Chapter 7 — Promotion
And thus begins Chapter Seven.
Now, children.
There we were.
Following Pimp Number One.
The man who had begun his day attempting to sell me women
and had somehow evolved into
adventure tourism.
The council checks his resume again.
PIMP.
BOAT MAN.
POSSIBLE PARASAILING OPERATOR.
Children.
Versatility.
We followed him.
Away from the beach.
Into an alley.
Then another.
Turn.
Walk.
Another alley.
Children.
At first I assumed:
Boat this way.
Reasonable.
Then
we curved.
Moved farther from the sea.
Then later
back toward the sea.
The council pauses.
Why?
Excellent question.
Children.
The ocean had been right there.
Large.
Visible.
Famous for being difficult to misplace.
And yet instead of simply walking along the beach
in what appeared to be roughly a straight fucking line
we had entered a maze.
Left.
Right.
Away.
Around.
Back.
I began wondering.
Perhaps this was the actual route.
Possible.
Perhaps boats lived behind some particular access point.
Possible.
Perhaps the man got lost.
Also possible.
Perhaps he had enemies on the direct path.
The council raises an eyebrow.
Enemies?
Children.
I did not know this man.
His known employment sectors already included prostitution brokerage and questionable monsoon parasailing.
Enemies did not feel impossible.
Perhaps he owed someone money.
Perhaps someone owed him money.
Perhaps he simply enjoyed alleys.
Maybe he knew a shortcut so advanced it only appeared longer.
The council sighs.
Whatever the truth
unknown.
And unknown?
Concern.
A little.
Not enough to turn back.
Obviously.
But enough for Story Nuo’s brain to occasionally note:
If this man murders us,
the route back is going to be annoying.
The council nods.
Reasonable concern.
Hat?
Following.
No Hat?
Still radiating Golden Retriever confidence.
Children.
There is something deeply calming about having one member of a group who appears delighted by literally every development.
Pimp leads us into increasingly questionable alleys?
No Hat:
Adventure!
The council refuses to quote internal thoughts not given.
Fair.
But vibe.
Joy.
Consistent.
And eventually
after enough suspicious navigation
sea.
Again.
The alley opened.
Beach.
And before us
boat.
Pause.
Children.
An actual boat.
The council looks surprised.
Not canoe?
No.
Not one half rotten fishing vessel with prayers holding the engine together?
No.
Speedboat.
Competent looking.
Solid enough.
Engine.
Seats.
The sort of thing where, at first glance, you think:
Yes.
This object was built for water.
Excellent.
And on the back
what appeared to be parachutes.
The council goes quiet.
Parasailing equipment?
Apparently.
Children.
So far
everything advertised by the pimp
had turned out to be real.
A sentence I never expected to say.
The man said:
I have a boat.
Boat.
He implied parasailing.
Parachute looking equipment.
The council updates trust score.
From catastrophically low to
Low.
Exactly.
Do not get carried away.
But improvement.
Now.
Pimp Number One climbed aboard.
Hat followed.
No Hat followed.
And me?
Children.
Mission complete.
I had found parasailing.
Guide duties fulfilled.
No further contractual obligation.
I stood there.
Waved.
“Have fun.”
Or whatever cheerful goodbye happened.
The party was about to disperse.
Perfectly natural ending.
They wanted parasailing.
I helped locate it.
They go fly.
Nuo returns to wandering.
Maybe dogs.
Maybe food.
Maybe relic shop.
Maybe just walk.
The council closes temporary party file.
Except
Hat looked back.
Waved me over.
“Come with us.”
Pause.
Children.
No.
Not no as refusal.
No as:
Oh.
The party is not dispersing.
Hat continued.
“We must all fly.”
The council smiles.
All?
All.
Children.
At the time,
this registered as exactly what it appeared to be.
Friendly invitation.
We had spent part of the day together.
We had walked.
Talked.
Found the beach.
Found the boat.
Why not make it a group activity?
Harmless.
Fun.
Potentially stupid.
Which is usually where Nuo performs best.
The council checks finances.
Ah.
Yes.
Wallet.
I checked.
Children.
Essentially empty.
Not Chennai demonetisation empty.
Different kind.
Ordinary Nuo empty.
The familiar economic condition of:
I possess desires exceeding currently available personal capital.
The council opens treasury protocol.
Again?
Again.
Children.
Father Treasury.
A timeless institution.
Phone.
Request.
One:
“Dad plsssss.”
Perhaps slightly more context.
Perhaps not.
The exact wording is not important.
The function is.
Request sent.
Funds acquired.
The council sighs affectionately.
Father continues to sponsor side quests he did not request.
Good man.
Questionable decision making.
Again.
I climbed into the boat.
Children.
Independent wanderer.
Sponsored by Dad.
No contradiction.
The council objects.
Many contradictions.
Ignore them.
Life jacket.
Equipped.
Important.
Hat
life jacket.
No Hat
life jacket.
Nuo
life jacket.
Pimp
boat operator.
The engine started.
And
off.
The shore began receding.
Water beneath us.
Speed increasing.
The boat cutting into open sea.
Children.
This already felt worthwhile.
Even before flight.
There is something about leaving shore.
Not far enough for land to disappear.
But far enough that the city becomes
background.
Kovalam behind us.
Beach reduced.
People reduced.
Noise altered.
Wind stronger.
Water larger.
The council looks toward shore.
Still visible?
Yes.
Important.
We were not entering some endless ocean void.
Shore remained in the distance.
A visual promise that civilization still existed.
Probably.
And then
the pimp asked for payment.
Pause.
Children.
Of course.
The transaction.
Because until now,
we had merely trusted the entrepreneur enough to board.
Now he produced
QR code.
The council freezes.
QR?
Yes.
Children.
Modern times.
Unlike Chennai.
No begging shopkeepers.
No ATM migration.
No cow barter.
The alleged pimp parasailing enterprise accepted digital payment.
Civilization had evolved.
Hat paid for two.
Presumably herself and No Hat.
I paid for myself.
The council looks impressed.
With Father’s money.
Independent wanderer.
Sponsored by Father.
We’ve established this.
Payment complete.
₹1500 each,
as offered.
No last minute doubling.
No:
Foreigners price different.
At least not in the version of events I experienced.
The quoted number became the paid number.
Children.
Another point for Pimp Number One.
Trust rating now
Moderately low.
Improving.
The council nods reluctantly.
Then came the operational question.
“Who first?”
Pause.
The sea seemed suddenly larger.
The parachute equipment suddenly more real.
The activity transitioned from:
Fun concept.
To:
One of us is about to be tied to that and launched into the sky.
The council looks at the party.
No Hat?
Hat?
Nuo?
Hat turned toward me.
Children.
And then
my true purpose became clear.
“You first.”
Pause.
The council stares.
Me?
Yes.
“You first.
See if it’s safe.”
Silence.
Children.
Excuse me?
The council erupts.
THERE IT IS.
Yes.
The entire day recontextualized in one sentence.
Tour guide?
Temporary title.
Real role?
Crash test dummy.
The council updates employment record.
POSITION:
Unpaid Risk Assessment Intern.
COMPENSATION:
None.
EMPLOYEE CONTRIBUTION:
₹1500.
Children.
This was perhaps the least profitable internship in economic history.
I had:
found the activity,
helped guide them,
paid for myself,
and now my first assigned duty was
Go airborne and establish whether the pimp’s parasailing system kills people.
The council folds its arms.
Excellent career progression.
Exactly.
Tour Guide Nuo had been promoted.
Not upward.
Sideways.
Into danger.
Children.
Hat’s logic?
Brutally efficient.
You are local.
You found the man.
You appear to possess questionable self preservation.
Therefore
you first.
The council asks whether she said all that.
No.
Only:
“You first. See if it’s safe.”
The rest is Present Nuo translating corporate structure.
Archive law maintained.
And I looked at her.
Perhaps at the equipment.
Perhaps back at Hat.
No Hat
still there.
Likely enthusiastic.
The council does not invent gestures.
Right.
But the vibe remained.
And children,
I had one brief realization.
Earlier,
I thought they had asked me along because:
friendship.
Maybe they did.
Likely they did.
But now another possibility had entered the equation.
Utility.
Nuo as biological safety trial.
The council laughs.
Was this betrayal?
No.
Children.
It was funny.
Extremely.
Because if I were in their position?
I might also look at the local idiot who confidently hired a pimp with a boat and think:
Let him go first.
Sound risk management.
I could not even be offended.
The council nods.
In fact
respect.
A little.
Hat:
Woman of culture.
Woman of strategy.
No Hat:
Golden Retriever.
And Nuo?
Canary in the coal mine.
The council approves the classification.
Now.
Did I know whether parasailing was safe?
Still no.
Had every local we asked told us it was unavailable during monsoon?
Yes.
Had Pimp Number One contradicted all of them?
Yes.
Were we currently far enough offshore that turning back required cooperation from said man?
Also yes.
Did Hat want empirical evidence before volunteering herself?
Children.
Reasonable.
And who better to provide that evidence
than the man who had no useful qualifications except willingness?
The council opens job description.
REQUIRED SKILLS:
Be expendable enough to say yes.
Rude.
Accurate.
So there I was.
Life jacket on.
Boat rocking beneath me.
Open water around us.
Kovalam distant.
Hat looking at me expectantly.
No Hat nearby.
Pimp Number One preparing whatever came next.
And suddenly
the adventure had become mine first.
Children.
This is one of my favourite things about conscious Wanderings.
You begin with:
I’m bored.
Forty minutes later:
Beach.
Then:
Strangers.
Then:
Dogs.
Then:
Tour guide.
Then:
Parasailing search.
Then:
Pimp.
Then:
Boat.
Then:
Father sponsored recreational aviation.
And now?
Crash test dummy.
The council reviews the chain.
Escalation?
Healthy.
No.
Interesting.
Yes.
Very.
I had not come to Kovalam to fly.
I had not even known parasailing was part of the day until Hat asked.
I had no swimsuit objective.
No water sports objective.
No:
Today I conquer fear.
None.
Children.
The day simply kept handing me doors.
And Story Nuo kept saying:
Sure.
That is perhaps the operating principle.
Not courage.
Not recklessness entirely.
Availability.
The thing appears.
Do I want to know what happens?
Usually.
Then
yes.
The council nods.
And there is another small thing I appreciate.
Hat did not disguise the request.
No:
Oh, you should go first because you’ll love it.
No manipulation.
No pretending.
Children.
Straight.
“You first.
See if it’s safe.”
Beautiful.
Clear communication.
I knew exactly what my role was.
The council laughs.
And I suppose by then,
that fit our social rhythm.
I had mocked No Hat directly.
Hat had trusted me to lead them through places I didn’t know.
No Hat had joined dog protocol.
We had bypassed politeness fast.
So yes.
Use Nuo as test subject.
Why not?
The friendship had matured approximately one hour.
The council checks readiness.
NUO:
Paid.
LIFE JACKET:
On.
SURVIVAL CONFIDENCE:
Unverified.
PIMP’S CREDENTIALS:
Still unclear.
HAT:
Waiting for results.
NO HAT:
Next if experiment succeeds.
CHILDREN:
Concerned.
Correct.
And I looked at the setup.
At the sea.
At the parachute.
At the man who had earlier offered me prostitutes.
At the two women who had apparently decided I should determine whether any of this was safe.
Children.
What a beautiful afternoon.
The council asks the obvious.
Did you go first?
That
belongs to the next chapter.
For now,
let us preserve the promotion.
Nuo.
Tour guide no longer.
Crash test dummy.
An unpaid internship
where the intern pays admission
and the performance review is:
Did he survive?
The council closes the file.
Thus concludes Chapter Seven.
The Suspicious Alleyways.
The Failure Of Straight Line Beach Navigation.
The Possibility That Pimp Number One Had Enemies.
The Return To The Sea.
The Actual Speedboat.
The Actual Parasailing Equipment.
The Unexpected Sentence:
“As Advertised By The Pimp.”
The Attempted Goodbye.
Hat’s:
“Come With Us.”
“We Must All Fly.”
The Empty Wallet.
The Father Treasury.
The Sponsored Independent Wanderer.
The Life Jackets.
The Open Water.
The QR Code.
The Successful Payment.
The Question:
“Who First?”
Hat’s Immediate Selection.
“You First.
See If It’s Safe.”
And
The Promotion.
Children.
I had started the day unemployed.
Then I became a tour guide.
Now I had become a crash test dummy.
And somehow,
this promotion cost me ₹1500.
