Mind Erase

 “Who will be the next contestant on Mind Eraser?”

Applause filled the air.  Six cameras gyrated to focus on the audience.  A woman stroked the bald head of a boy in a wheel chair.  He turned his chin up to her and smiled.

“Did you get that?  Did you see that? Oh yeah, baby.  That’s a keeper.” 

Hugh pushed the glowing square button on the control panel.  Camera one.  The monitor switched from Johnny Polastik to the bald boy.  Camera two.  An old man clutched a framed photo picturing a woman wearing a kerchief tied under her chin.  Her eyebrows were thick.  Her lips dark.  The frame was cracked and dusty.  Camera three.  A teenage girl held a dog leash, the empty collar hung limply from her hand.

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, grandmas and grandpas.  One person in this audience tonight will be the next contestant.”  The crowd cheered. 

“Man, he’s on tonight,” Brenda said. She grabbed Hugh’s arm and shook it.  “He’s working it.”

“Yeah, he’s working it all right.” 

“Switch to camera six.  Get the guy in the back.”

“Why?” Hugh asked.  “He doesn’t even look like he’s in the running.”

“Yeah, just wait, love.  He is the winner tonight.”

Hugh pushed the button.  The monitor flashed to a middle aged man in the back of the room.  His arms were crossed over his enormous belly.  He bit at his bottom lip and then took a deep breath.  He looked up at the monitor above the audience.  When he saw his own image, he seemed embarrassed.  He straightened his back, pushed back his shoulders and uncrossed his arms.

“Now switch to the tiled shot.  Come on, Hughy.  Let’s not miss this one.”

“Mind Eraser is a public service,” the host said to the camera.  “Mind Eraser uses state of the art technology to quickly and easily eliminate painful memories.”  Johnny Polastik stepped toward the camera.  “How many of you,” he pointed his finger, “out there, would like to be able to forget a bad experience.”  The crowd started to chant. “For-get.  For-get.  For-get.” 

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen.  Our scientists, well… me.  I discovered a simple way to rub those unwanted memories out of your head forever.  It’s a simple procedure.  Just takes a second.  This electrical probe is placed at the base of the neck.  A gentle shock passes through the cerebral cortex and you forget about that horrible break-up from your wife of seventeen years.”

“Now Hugh. Get ready,” Brenda said.  Her eyes darted from one monitor to the next. 

“Charlie, on five.  Zoom in on that overweight guy.”  Camera six slowly moved closer to the man.  His arms were once again crossed over his bulging belly. 

“Or, perhaps…” Johnny Polastik paused as he waited for his words to have their effect on the audience.  “Perhaps, your memory is more general.  Perhaps your father was abusive.  Perhaps he tormented you by calling you names.  And by… restricting your food.”

“There.  Now he knows.  He thinks he knows.  He’s hoping.”  Brenda grabbed Hugh’s arm.  “God, this is better than sex.  Hugh.  Take me now.  I’m going to explode.”

Hugh had his finger on the button.  Too soon, and he would give the secret away by showing just one contestant.  Too late, and the synapses of the brain would be confused. The adrenaline misfire.  Viewers at home loved the tension.  They loved trying to figure out who would win the erasure.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen.  One of you here tonight wrote a letter pleading to erase the memories of an abusive father.”

“Thank you, Johnny,” a woman called out from the audience.

“Brenda, you’re wrong.  It’s not the fat guy on six.”

“She’s just a plant, Hugh.  It’s okay.  Stay with me.”

Camera six zoomed in closer.  The middle aged guy sat up straight again.  Sweat beads appeared on his upper lip.  He tipped on his hip in order to pull a white handkerchief out of his back pocket.  He dabbed at his lip, then his forehead.

“This contestant believes… that if he could forget about his father… and how he starved him when he was five and six years old, this contestant believes that he could lose weight and finally find the love that he’s been yearning for for the past thirty-five years.”

“Now, Hugh.  Now.”

Hugh pushed the button.  The fat guy’s chin dimpled.  His eyes looked upward.  Tears streamed down his cheeks.  His mouth formed the words, ‘Thank you.’ 

“Hugh, did you get that?  Did you get that climax?”

“Do you talk to your husband like that, Bren?”

“Yeah, sure hon. All the time.”

“Brian Doyle.  Come on down.  It’s time to…”

The crowd chanted, “Erase… your… mind.”

  ***

“You fucking bitch.”

“Glenn, what’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.  You’re having an affair.  Don’t try to pretend it’s not true.  I know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Glenn.”

“Who is it?  That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.  Is it someone from the studio?  Is it someone from that ridiculous book group you go to?  Is it a kid from that college where you teach?  That’s it, isn’t it?  You always had a thing for younger men.”

“You’ve been drinking again.  You’re crazy.”

“No, you’re the crazy one,” Glenn said.  “I accidentally picked up your cell phone today.  I accidentally read your text messages.  ‘You were amazing today.  Do me like that again.’ There’s more.  Shall I go on?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, no kidding.  What’s the matter with you?  I thought that you promised not to do this again.  Remember, the marriage counselor?  Remember the dying wish that your father made?  God, Brenda.  I don’t understand.  I just don’t understand.”

Brenda pulled her cashmere cardigan close to her chin.  She’d had this habit since she was a kid.  If she was wearing a turtleneck jersey, she would actually pull it up over her mouth.  Even though she was the executive producer of TNT’s top rated syndicated show, Mind Eraser, she still could be intimidated by Glenn, her husband of eighteen years.  Glenn knew her before the nose job, before the blond hair, before she dropped fifty pounds and gained confidence in herself. 

Four years ago, Brenda had a brief affair with a professor at the university where she earned her Master’s degree in communication.  Glenn forgave her this slip because her father was dying, and Glenn had been spending a lot of time with his daughter who was going through a difficult time on her own.  Peg was from his first marriage.  A marriage that lasted just eighteen months, but that produced three children—Peg, now twenty and the twins, Jared and Jason, now nineteen.  Glenn could not handle the pressure of three children along with a meddling mother-in-law who never approved of the marriage anyway.  Glenn, after all, was from a lower class Greek family.  His first wife, however, was an heiress.  What could she possibly see in this dark skinned guy who didn’t even graduate from college? 

Glenn and Brenda had reconciled after her father begged her to stop fooling around and fulfill her obligations to her husband, the man she married before God and all those Catholic relatives.  Brenda had been faithful, for about a week.  That’s when she started working at the network.  That was when she first caught a glimpse of Johnny. 

 ***

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Johnny Polastik said.  “Boys and girls.  Grandma’s and grandpa’s.  Viewers at home.  Next week, the Mind Eraser Game Show will change its format a bit.”  Camera six closed in on a shot of an Asia couple holding a stuffed animal.  They looked at each other, then back at the camera.  Their mouths were saying, ‘No, no.’  Camera three showed an elderly man wearing dark glasses.  He shook his white cane in the air.  ‘No,’ he mouthed.

Johnny waited for the crowd to settle down.  “Yes, we are going to try something new.  But it’s still about altering the memory.  Now, contestants will be able to choose someone else’s mind to erase.  Now, let me explain.  Take Billy here.”  Johnny steps down off the stage and approached a boy in the front row.  “Billy here has been sexually abused.  Billy doesn’t want to erase that memory.”  The crowd instantly starts chanting.  “For-get.  For-get.  For-get.” 

“I know what you’re thinking.  Why would he want to remember that.  But Billy doesn’t want to forget his own pain.  Billy just wants his father to forget that he’s the object of his desires.  If Billy can erase that urge, that sick desire to molest his own son, why then Billy can reclaim his childhood.  He’ll be able to toss a baseball with the old man.  He’ll be able to ask dad for help on his homework without worrying that dad is going to want payment for the job.”

Brenda stood quietly behind Hugh.  She rested her hands on his shoulders.  Hugh looked up at her.  “Bren, did you know about this?”

Brenda didn’t answer at first.  Then, she stepped toward the one way glass mirror that looked down over the studio audience.  “I’m saved,” she said.  “That’s it.  I’ll erase Glenn’s memory of the incident.”

The studio audience murmured as the new format for Mind Eraser sank into their own minds.  Johnny Polastik was back on the stage now.  His gleaming white teeth sparkled for camera two.  He held the microphone just below his chin.  His brown eyes squinted for a moment, then widened.  He seemed to look up toward the booth, but immediately dropped his gaze back to the audience.  “We need your help,” he whispered into the microphone.  “This is our little secret.  We need all of you here today, and all of you at home, to send in your requests for a mind erasure of someone that you know.”  The audience cheered.

“Log on to www.minderasure.com and fill out the quick form.  Be sure to register to donate to Minds For A Cause while you’re there.  They accept MasterCard, Visa, Discover and American Express.  You can also do checks online.  We’ll pick one winner each week.  We read all your stories.  We’ll narrow it down to five, then my assistance, the lovely Brenda, will interview those five and determine who the lucky winner is.  Doesn’t matter where you live.  Mind Erasure will pay for you and your guest,” Johnny winked at the camera, “to attend a studio taping.  Heck, we’ll even throw in a three day, two night, stay at the Ritz Carlton, courtesy of Mr. Bellini’s Fine Men’s Clothes.” 

Brenda strutted back to her place behind Hugh.  Even though she had a chair, she preferred the mobility of standing behind Hugh, watching over his shoulder as his hands darted over the glowing lights controlling the cameras.  “I’m not so sure about this new format, Brenda.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you have to worry about consent?  I mean, it’s one thing to go up there and volunteer to forget a painful memory.  But this is different.  This is about intrusion.”

“I need a vacation.  That’s what I need,” Brenda said.  She paced behind Hugh. 

Johnny Polastik continued to work the crowd.  “Don’t delay.  Log on today.  Mind Eraser.com.  And be sure to tune in tomorrow.” Johnny grinned.

Finally, the taping ended.

The studio was dark.  Johnny Polastik and Brenda were alone in the booth.  Johnny kissed her neck.  He reached his hand under her sweater and caressed her breast.  Brenda closed her eyes and sighed deeply. 

“He knows,” she said quietly.  “My husband knows about us.”

“What does he know?”

“He knows that I’ve been unfaithful.  He found text messages.”

“Jesus, Brenda,” Johnny said.  “I thought you were going to be more careful.  What, did you want to get caught?  You know that I cannot have this.”

Brenda straightened and pulled her sweater down.  “It’s all about you, isn’t it?  Why don’t you love me?  Why don’t you want to be with me?”

“It’s not about me, Brenda.  It’s about the ratings.  Think what this would do to our ratings.  Think about that.”

“Well what should we do?”  Brenda asked.

Johnny unbuttoned his dress pants and unzipped his trousers.  “I know what YOU should do.”  Brenda kneeled before Johnny. 

The door opened and fluorescent light from the hall way flooded the room. “Excuse me,” Hugh whispered from the doorway.  “I forgot my cell phone.”  Brenda didn’t move.  Johnny stood motionless.  The door closed again and darkness sank everywhere.

 ***

A group of men sat around a large round table so highly polished it looked like a mirror.  The men were from the national office.  The men were meeting to discuss the proposed format for Mind Eraser.  The men were not so sure that the new format was going to ‘catch on.’  The men were debating with Johnny Polastik and Brenda.

“The show has become a farce,” Johnny said.  “It’s like people going to see Jesus, or something.  I mean, it’s become a miracle show.  It’s all about cripples and invalids.  Where’s the humor in that?”

“Who said this was supposed to be humorous?” A man with the richest looking suit and the silkiest paisley tie stared him down.  “It’s about the profits.  Do you really think our sponsors will back this new format as much as the parade of the sick people?”

“What Johnny is trying to say,” Brenda suggested, “Is that this is a game show after all.  This is not supposed to be just about who’s got the saddest story. Leave that to Extreme Makeover, or the 700 Club, for that matter.  The show has gotten away from it’s… how should I say this?  Randomness.  The chance factor.  You know. Let’s spin the wheel, Vanna.”

“And we feel that my device, my invention, could be more fun, rather profitable, to all of us, if we return to the game aspect of the show.”

“That’s why,” Brenda looked at Polastik for approval, “that’s why we think, we believe, that the new format will indeed bring more viewers.”

“It’s like Deal Or No Deal.  If it was just a matter of opening cases, there would be no drama.  But you mess up the works by throwing in the element of offering an out to these people, and you see what they’re really made of.  And they’re made of greed.  And malice.”

“Still, the sponsors want to know that this is going to fly,” the suit said.  His steel stare was fixed on Polastik. 

“We’ll do a test run.  We’ll try three weeks.  If the ratings are not through the roof, we’ll go back to the old way.  Bring on the teary-eyed grandma’s, the lonely widows.  But if I’m right.  If we’re right, then you’ll be thanking me.”

“One week.”

“Two weeks, at least sir.  Otherwise, it’s no test at all.”

“Two weeks.  And we better see results.”

 ***

Glenn sat at the kitchen table sipping a beer.  Four empty brown bottles stood in a rigid line before him on the table.  The room was dark.  He had not moved from his chair since five o’clock.  The digital read-out on the stove glowed 9:06.  He set the bottle on the table as he listened to the key turn in the lock of the backdoor.  Brenda eased the door open and kicked off her heels.  She set down her purse and her leather messenger bag then turned to push the door closed.  She pulled her cell phone from her belt clip and flipped it open.  The glow lit her face with a green blue light.  She smiled and started pushing keys as she texted a message.

“Don’t forget the X’s and O’s, Bren.”

“My god.  Glenn.  What’s wrong with you?  Sitting in the dark?  Are you sick?”

She flipped on the overhead light. 

“Jesus.  Give a guy a break.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re a whore.”  Glenn stood and pushed Brenda against the counter.  He grabbed her arm and twisted the phone out of her hand.  “What’d you say this time?  What’d he say?  Oh yeah, did I tell you you’re a cheating whore?”

“Glenn, you’ve had too much to drink.  Let me make you dinner.  The food will help sober you up.”

Glenn held the phone in his hand.  He stared at the  messages.  “This one is from today.  Even after I accused you, you’re still sending these messages.  What did he say?  Let me see.  ‘Stay late today.  I’ll make you feel like you were twenty-five again.  I’ll tickle that spot that you love me to touch.’ Jesus fuckin’ Christ.  Don’t I mean anything to you?”

“Glenn, of course you mean something to me.  You mean the world to me.”

“Don’t patronize me.  Bren, I’d do anything for you.  But you know, now… I wish I didn’t know this stuff.  I wish that I could go back and forget this.  I don’t think I’d mind so much if I just didn’t know.  Call me an idiot, but I adore you Bren.  I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Brenda stared at Glenn.  She swallowed hard and then she straightened her back and raised her hand to touch his cheek.  “I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?  By letting me touch that spot.  I don’t even know about that spot.  I don’t even know you.”

Brenda turned and opened the refrigerator.  She pulled out a package of hamburger patties, potato salad, cheddar cheese and ketchup.  She turned the gas stove to medium high and placed a frying pan on top of the blue flames.  She waited a minute, then dropped the patties onto the pan.  They sizzled immediately.  She set two plates on the table and filled two glasses with seltzer water.  When the burgers were done, she topped each with a slice of cheese and set a cover over the pan while she toasted two rolls in the toaster oven.  Finally, she set the two dinners on the table.  Glenn pushed his away.

“You cannot live on beer alone.  You’ll die.”

“What do you care?  What do you care about me anyway?”

“I care.  I cook and clean and sleep with you.  I pay the bills.  I…”

“Just shut up, Brenda.  I’ll eat the food if you’ll just shut up.”

  ***

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, grandmas and grandpas.  Tonight, we’re so excited.”

“Hugh, camera one.  Catch the twinkle in his eye when he makes the announcement.”

“Have you ever wanted to make someone else forget something?  I mean, say you forgot your wife’s birthday.  You got caught looking at your husband’s brother at the family barbecue.  Or you accidentally ran over your son’s little kitten.”

“Now Hugh.  Switch to camera six. Get the guy with the little boy on his lap.  He’s the one.  He’s tonight’s big star.”

“Who?  The old man?”

“No, the kid.”

“Brenda.  He’s not going to mess with a six year old’s brain, is he?”

“Johnny knows what he’s doing.  Believe me.”

“Yeah, he knows what he’s doing all right.  But do you?”

“What do you mean, Hugh?”

“Brenda, I saw you in here the other night.  I saw you and… you know… you were.”

“Giving him a blow job?”

“Brenda. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But Hugh.  You are.  You brought it up.  Care to bring up something else?  When was the last time you were with a woman, anyway?  Are you a virgin, Hugh?”

The crowd cheered.  Polastik was leading the boy up to the chair where contestants had their minds erased.  The boy held en empty rhinestone collar on his lap.  Johnny was placing the metal probe at the base of his neck.  The boy’s terrified face filled monitor four.

“Hugh, quick.  Switch to four.  Jesus, you’re missing it.   Hugh, come on.  You’ll get us both fired goddammit.”

“What’s your name?” Johnny asked, smiling at the camera as he held the microphone to the boy’s lips.

“Albert.”

“Albert.  That’s not a typical name for a little kid these days, is it?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, Al, were you named after someone?  Say, a prince?”  Johnny grinned at the camera.

“Switch to two.  Now three.  Catch the dad’s look.  Yeah, that’s it.  Work it, Johnny.  Work that crowd.”

“I wasn’t named after anyone, mister.”  Johnny stepped away from the boy and pushed the microphone toward the dad. 

“Why’d you give your son a name like Albert?”

“I like the Beatles.”

“Goo goo ga choo.”  Polastik beamed at the camera. “I’m so-o-o sorry, Uncle Albert.  But it’s time to…”  Polastik raised his hand to his ear and leaned toward the studio audience.

“For-get.  For-get.  For-get.”  The audience chanted in unison.

“Yes, that’s right ladies and gentleman.  This little boy has a painful memory of his cute little kitten.  What was the little guy’s name, Al?”

“It was Walrus.  But we called him Wally.”

“I AM the Walrus.  Are you the Eggman?”  Johnny bared his white teeth at the camera.

“Hugh, are you ready?  Are you ready to see our ratings soar?  You’ll get a raise, you know.  If this works, like Johnny says it will work, we’ll all get raises.  He put that in the new contract.  You’ll be able to buy a new car.  Something that will attract the ladies.  You could even join a gym and maybe get Lasix.  Girls don’t like glasses, generally.”

“My girl will like glasses,” Hugh murmured.

“Here goes.  Al, in a second, you won’t remember Wally.  So hand over the little leather collar.  Maybe someday, you’ll get a new kitty, but tonight, and from this day forward, you won’t miss little Wally any more.  Ready?”  Johnny strutted across the stage and stood before a panel of buttons.  He twisted a dial, and pulled down a lever.  He pushed seven colored buttons and then he froze, his finger poised on a big red plunger.  “Ready?”

“For-get.  For-get.  For-get.”

“Bye bye Wally.  Dad, you’re saved.  Al, you won’t feel a thing.”

“Hugh, camera five.  The close up on the kid.  Awe. He’s crying.”

  ***

Brenda pulled her red Lexus up to the front walk to her brick house.  She wanted to carry in her shopping bags from Victoria’s Secret and Lord and Taylor.  She didn’t want to confront Glenn.  She didn’t want to do anything but light candles and take a long bubble bath.  When she opened the front door, she saw an envelope on the table.  The return address was Leslieanne Gordon, Attorney at Law.  Brenda ripped open the envelope.   ‘Please be advised that my client, Glenn Birdwick, is filing for divorce from his spouse, Brenda Birdwick, on the grounds of infidelity.  Please be advised the Mr. Birdwick is seeking damages in the amount of $1,000,000 for psychological distress as well as alimony support in the amount of $8,000 per month.  A preliminary hearing is set for Monday, the eighth day of June, in the year of our Lord 2007.’

“Oh Lord,” Brenda sighed.  Then she bellowed, “Glenn, what the fuck is going on?”

  ***

“Brenda, it’s going to be okay.  You’ll see.  Lots of people get divorced,” Hugh said as he stared at his computer monitor, his fingers flying over the key board as he typed in the credits for the evening’s taping of Mind Eraser.  “What’s the old lady’s name for this evening?”

“Hugh, you don’t get it.  Glenn is on to me.  He’s out to take me down.  What he wants is out of the question.  I earned that money.  I’m the one who’s been saving it.  It’s not his.”

“Was it Edith?  Or Ethyl?”

“You’re not listening.  He’s going to ruin me.”

“Bren, you’ll bounce back.  You’ll be fine.”

“It’s Edith.  Edith Stevens.”

“Too bad you couldn’t erase Glenn’s mind.  That would solve your problem.”

Brenda raised her hand to her chin.  Her eyes brightened.  “Hugh, you’re a genius.  That’s what I’ll do.  Now that the format on the show has changed, I’m going to erase Glenn’s mind.  I’m going to fix this.”

Brenda raced down the hall toward Johnny Polastik’s office.  The door was closed, but she pushed it open without hesitation.  Johnny was lying on a sofa bed, his feet up, a sleep mask over his eyes.  Brenda kneeled beside him and started massaging his thigh.

“A little higher, Angel.  Just a little higher.”

Brenda slapped him on the stomach.  “It’s me.  Brenda.  Your lover.  You got to wake up.  We’ve got to fix this thing.  Glenn is filing for divorce and suing me for support.  If we can erase his mind, with your thing, then we’ll be all set.”

“I’ll erase YOUR mind with my thing, if you know what I mean.”

“Johnny, this is serious.  This is real.  I need to get my husband on the show.  The next show.  Tonight.”

“What about poor old Ethyl.”

“It’s Edith.  And who the fuck cares?”

“I like it when you’re excited.  Do me, Angel.  That’s my new nickname for you.”

  ***

Brenda dashed home in the early afternoon to talk to Glenn.  She intended to convince him to come down to a show taping.  She found him in the den watching ESPN.   She looked at him from the doorway.  She thought, ‘How did I come to marry him?  We’ve nothing in common.  I don’t even know who he is.’  With one hand he raised a beer bottle to his lips; with the other hand, he clicked to another channel.  ‘Why is he so lazy?  Why is he content to just sit there on the couch hour after hour, day after day?  How did I get myself into this mess?’

“Glenn,” she said.  No reaction.  “Glenn,” she repeated a little louder.

“Whad’ya want?”

“I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything later, if you might want to come down to the studio with me.  They’re changing the format on the show.  I thought you’d like to see it.  It’ll be fun.  I’ll take you out to Applebee’s after.”

“You expect me to go down there where you work?  Meet up with the guy that you’ve been text messenging?”  Glenn stood up, but staggered.  Finally, he dropped back down onto the couch.  “Yeah, all right.  And when I figure out who the guy is, I’m gonna punch his lights out.”

“Why don’t you take a shower?  Shave and brush your teeth.”

“You embarrassed by me, Bren?”

“No, it’s just that the camera pans the audience and we try to keep up appearances.  It’s for the network executives.  It’s for the advertisers.  You’ve got that new plaid shirt in your bureau.  I’m going to go get it for you.  Come on.  We need to leave in an hour.  Have you eaten today?  I’ll make you a tuna salad sandwich.  Just the way you like.  With relish on rye toast.”

Glenn stood again and slowly walked toward the stairs that led up to the second floor.  “Any chance we have any chips?”

 ***

The tech crew at the studio was scurrying about getting ready for the taping.  People passed through a metal detector on their way to the tiered seats in the audience.  The stage was already set up, but the lights were kept low.  Johnny Polastik sat in a raised chair while Angie, the new stylist, worked on his hair and his make-up.  Polastik sipped Coke through a straw while he read Entertainment Weekly. 

“Johnny,” Brenda said quietly.  “He’s here.  The SUBSTITUTE is here. He’ll be sitting in A5.  Center front.  Got that?”

“Sure Angel, whatever.”  Angie smiled.  Angie answered to Angel, too.  “Oh Bren, there’s going to be a twist tonight.”  Brenda tipped her head and looked at Polastik.  “Yeah, came down from the tip-top just a few mintues ago.”

“What’s going on?”

“Picture this, Bren.  Now that we’re ‘doing it to other people’ we give those people a chance to pick someone else to erase their mind, too.” Brenda looked confused.  “Pay attention, Bren.  Follow me.  We’ve got the guy, or girl, in the chair.  The audience is chanting, ‘Forget. Forget. Forget.’ And just as I push the red button, I shove the microphone in their face and say, ‘Any last requests?’ And then, if they choose someone that’s present, we erase their mind, too.  Brilliant, isn’t it?  I mean, the suits were uncomfortable with the ‘doing to’ thing, so now it’s like a kind of mutual battle.”

Brenda staggered back.  “But Johnny, I thought you were going to do me a favor tonight.  I thought you were going to erase my husband’s mind.  Make him forget about finding out about our affair.”

Polastik put his hands over Angie’s ears.  He looked at her and shook his head.  “You’ve got to be more careful, Bren.  You can’t just go around saying those things.” 

“But Johnny.  What if… what if Glenn picks me?”

“Forget about it Angel.  From what you said, he’ too thick to think of something as great as that.”

Brenda’s hands were shaking. A sick nausea clutched her stomach.  Hot, moisture stained her armpits. “You’re probably right.  Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Hugh ran in with a script and a flow-plan to review with Polastik.  Glenn stood in a line with the other audience participants.  He looked boyish as he wore the new plaid shirt and his hair freshly washed and combed back still wet.  Lines from the comb framed his face.  A piece of white tissue with a red spot in the middle adorned his left jawbone.  He paused as the security guard ran a metal probe wand up and down his pant leg.  He looked up and seemed relieved as he spotted Brenda next to Polastik and Hugh.  Just then, Hugh leaned forward and caught an eyelash out of the corner of Brenda’s eye.  He held it before her lips.  Brenda noticed Glenn staring and played up the situation.  She held Hugh’s hand and leaned close, pursing her lips to blow the lash away as she made her wish.  ‘It would all be over soon,’ she hoped.  ‘He won’t know anything in just a little while.’

 “Five minutes, people,” the director said.  “Lights.  Cameras, let’s do a system check.”  Glenn took his seat in the center front.  Brenda smiled at him as she and Hugh retreated to their booth.  Polastik pulled the tissues from his shirt collar as he checked his smile in the mirror. 

“Five, four, three,” the director said, then held up his fingers, and mouthed, two, one!

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, grandmas and grandpas.  Tonight, we have a new format to reveal.  It seems that some of our viewers are uncomfortable with us erasing someone’s mind without their consent.  So we’ve added a twist.  Just before I push the button, I’ll ask them for retribution.  What’s retribution, I hear you asking?  It’s a chance for them to erase someone else’s mind.”

“For-get. For-get,” the audience started chanting.  Glenn looked around not knowing how to react to these people. 

“Tonight, our contestant is a carpenter, like Jesus.  Currently, he’s out of work.” Polastik glanced down at an index card with notes.  “He spends his days drinking beer and watching sports on TV.”  Glenn’s mouth turned into a frown.  The bloody tissue fell from her jaw.  “This fellow he believes his wife has been unfaithful.  For the sake of the marriage, Glenn Birdwick, you’ve been selected to have that painful memory erased from YOUR MIND FOREVER”

Glenn shook his head.  Two tall men wearing dark sunglasses approached him from the left side of the stage.  “No, I’m not going to do it,” Glenn said.  “I won’t let you do this.” 

“Mr. Birdwick, you signed a waiver when you entered the theater tonight.  You HAVE to consent.”

“This is insanity.”

“No, it’s Mind Eraser,” Polastik said.  Then, he turned to camera two and quickly repeated the disclaimer notice. 

Brenda and Hugh watched out the two way mirrored booth.  “Hugh, camera two.  You’ve got to switch to the disclaimer.”

“I’m going to split screen.  I’m staying on your husband.”

“All audience members sign a waiver upon entering the studio.  This waiver applies to tonight’s taping only.  No audience member may return for more than three shows in any given thirty day period.  Any subsequent loss of memory or mental capacity is purely coincidental and is not the responsibility of the network, its owners, or me, Johnny Polastik—the inventor of the Mind Eraser technology.  The producers do not take any responsibility for damage done to viewers at home.  Thought pattern shifting is a serious side effect, but rare, and may present itself in the form of vomiting, diarrhea, severe headaches and in some extreme cases, death.  Generally, these symptoms are temporary.”

Polastik stepped back onto the stage where Glenn sat strapped into the chair.  Polastik moved the probe close to the base of his neck.  A drop of blood had appeared along Glenn’s jaw and slowly tracked a faint red line to his plaid shirt collar. 

“We’ll erase Glenn’s mind… right after this commercial message for viewers at home.”

Hugh pushed the sponsor tape and an ad for the ‘little blue pill’ appeared on the studio monitors.  “I just want this to be over,” Brenda said.

“But Bren, you’re just going to do it again.  And when he finds out again, what then?”

“He won’t find out.  That’s all.”

“He seems like a decent guy, Brenda.”  Hugh studied the small monitor from camera four that framed Glenn’s face.  He looked concerned, worried. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I feel kind of bad for him,” Brenda said. “But not that bad.”

 ***

“Welcome back,” Polastik said.  “Now Glenn, any last wishes?  Your wife, Brenda Birdwick, a producer on this very show, nominated you because you found out about her affair with SOMEONE who works in this very studio.”  A tear formed in Glenn’s eye.  “Brenda wishes that you didn’t know about this little mess. What say YOU, Glenn?  Any last requests?”

“I wish for Brenda to have her mind erased of her lover. I wish for my wife to forget about this affair.  Forever.”

Polastik grinned then looked up at the mirrored booth.  He lifted his index finger and curled it towards himself.  “Come on down, Brenda.”

Brenda froze.  Hugh smiled.  The two studio guards pushed the door to the producer’s booth open and stepped toward Brenda.

“For-get. For-get. For-get.” The audience chanted.  Brenda was led onto the stage.  Glenn rose from his chair as the guards motioned toward the empty seat. 

“Polastik, you bastard.  I love you,” Brenda said.  “Please, don’t do this.  Please.”

“It’s him?  I thought it was the meek guy in the booth,” Glenn said. 

“You’re an idiot,” Brenda sneered at Glenn.  Then to Polastik, she pleaded, “Don’t do it, Johnny.  I beg you.”

“Audience?  What do you say?  Push the button?”

“For-get. For-get. For-get.”

Polastik sat at his control panel.  He twisted the dial and checked the read-out.  He turned to the camera and flashed his Pepsodent smile.  “I’m sorry, Brenda, but your husband has chosen to have your mind erased.  I hope that you both live happily ever after.”

Hugh switched to camera four.

  © Bernadette Stockwell, March 2008