Free A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World by Rachel Cantor Page A

sudden cold coursing through his room—a mighty wind, actually, a mighty polar wind. Medusa, the neighborly cat, yowled outside. Shivering, Leonard tried to coax her in through the cat-chimney, or even through the door, thinking she might warm him, but she wouldn’t cross the threshold, nor would she leave off yowling.
    I’m not listening! Leonard shouted, and the ground started to shake, the sixty-day seal on his grandfather’s closet popped open, the opaque flimsies on his windows became translucent, letting in great light—and from the corner of his eye, he saw movement on his screen: it was his grandfather, wearing his worn brown caftan, gesticulating to a small boy. He and the boy were on the settee in the White Room, before it was a White Room, as the room had been when his grandfather was alive. The boy had a brown afro and a T-shirt that read “I Love Grandpaw.”
    Boychik, the grandfather said to the little boy, there will come a day when I will no longer be with you …, and the boy said, Don’t say that, Grandpa! I don’t like it when you say that! and the old man said, Boychik, I need you to listen good. A man will come for you named Isaac. I don’t know how he comes but you gotta do how he says. Remember this, because I won’t behere to tell you! And the boy said, No! I’m not listening! and he put his fingers in his ears and shouted, La, la, la, la! The grandfather smiled and shrugged his shoulders at the adult Lenny, as if to say, Look at yourself! What a boy!
    Had that happened? Leonard was shaking. This wasn’t a Neetsa Pizza test, this wasn’t the joke of a loony—this was real, whatever real was.
    The phone bleated and Leonard picked it up.
    What do you need me to do? he asked.
    This is more like it, Isaac said.
We hate traitors
    The room was quiet again and no longer a White Room. Leonard had opened the door and let in Medusa, who deposited a dead chipmunk by the cat-chimney. He was yanking the flimsies off the windows when the phone began to ring like a siren.
    Yes, sir, Leonard said.
    High Command advises that there has been a breach of the White Room.
    Yes, sir, Leonard said. I have to take a break, that’s all, which is to say, I can’t work for you anymore.
    Medusa jumped on his lap and began to purr.
    It’s not the Heraclitan Grill, is it? Our Listeners are never happy there. They come crawling back, but you know our policy.
    Yes, sir, you don’t like traitors.
    You know the only support they get is a can of Flame-Off for if they set themselves alight.
    I know, Leonard said.
    Was it the attack on our pizza grottos? They’re under control now, you know.
    I hadn’t heard about that. No, it’s something else. I can’t talk about it.
    You recall that you signed an
echemythia
agreement?
    I agreed to be silent about—
    Our recipes ingredients White Room Pythagorean Papers soul tracing aptitude tests meditation scripts algorithms policies and punishments.
    Punishments?
    You signed the agreement. Keep it and you’ll have nothing to worry about.
    Right, Leonard said. I won’t tell anyone.
    We know about your true-ray blocker.
    Goodbye, sir.
    Don’t you come crawling back! We hate traitors!
    For the second time that night, the doorbell rang. It was Carol and Felix.
    I saw the shades were up. You okay?
    I quit my job.
    Good, Carol said. You can watch Felix. Don’t worry if I don’t come back straightaway. I’m going to a book-club convention.
    She was wearing her climbing suit and dust cap and was carrying not her usual clutchbag but a six-gallon grabbag over her shoulders.
    Go on, Felix. Uncle Leonard will take care of you.
    She pushed her son forward but he clung to the ridges of her climbing suit.
    Don’t go, Mommy! Please don’t go!
    Big boy, Felix. Clootie dumplings and head cheese in the freezer, lucre in the peanut-butter jam square jar.
    She pecked Felix’s cheek and,