THE DAY OF MAPS
by Fr. Andrew Marr, OSB
This was the morning everybody had been waiting for. Sharon Van Vanntoo, was excited, but she tried to appear calm. She buttered her toast and spread her favorite jam while the computer printer sketched the new map to her school. Now she would know the best way to get there and back. Sharon's mother hastily opened the hutch, took out a plate and slipped it under Sharon's toast before she filled the tablecloth with crumbs. The hutch was the oldest piece of furniture in the apartment, having been handed down through the family for several generations. Sharon's father was scratching his head over the new map to his office while he finished off his coffee.
As of this special morning, all maps were unified in the World Cartilogical Unification Project System, affectionately known as the World CUP System. From that day on, everybody would be given a personalized map to wherever they needed to go just by punching the keys on a computer keyboard.
"The greatest care has been taken," the radio announcer droned on, "to take full account of every street and transportation route. Our central computer system has worked out the most efficient route from each location to each location. New streets and transportation routes have now been instituted to meet every need. Everything in the realm of reality has been included in our comprehensive scheme. By simply following your individualized computer-generated map, you will arrive safely at your destination of choice with the maximum of efficiency and the minimum of time. Cartilogical officials will be available at all stations to help anyone in the remote possibility that an individual's map is not perfectly clear. On this special day, the public is warned that any use of unauthorized maps could lead to confusion and disruption of the system and a maximum sentence of two days in jail and a fine of $250.00."
"I never knew some of these streets existed!" Sharon's father exclaimed as he looked over his map. "To think that these shortcuts were under my nose all this time!"
"Think of how we can now economize on automobile fuel and bus fares," said mother. "That's why we spent the country's savings on this project."
When the computer printer finished squealing over Sharon's map, she was kept waiting another two or three agonizing seconds before it released the document. Sharon snatched it so quickly, she almost tore it before she had a chance to see it. The graceful design of the streets was enough to make her eager to start off for school. But when she looked carefully at the map, Sharon began to wonder if it would be as helpful as she hoped and as the government promised.
"What's the matter darling?" mother asked. "You have such an elegant-looking map to help you find your way to school."
"But--the map says I should leave by the back door of the apartment building."
"What wrong with that?" Father asked, as he poured another cup of coffee and scratched his head once more.
"I always leave by the front door of the building," Sharon protested.
"Then you must not have been taking the best way after all," said Mother. "Surely you will get to school all the sooner by going out the front door as your new map directs you."
"Besides," said Father, "if they catch you going out the front of the building with a map that tells you to leave by the back door, they might put you in jail, and I wouldn't want to see that happen to my dear little girl."
"And I don't want that to happen to me, either," said Sharon.
"So, that's settled," said Mother. "You will go to the back door and leave the building that way. It should be a nice change."
"But--this map doesn't tell me how to find the front door," said Sharon.
Father took another sip of coffee and stroked his chin.
"That could be a problem. My map instructs me to take the Northeast side door, so it won't help you find your door. I don't think I've ever used the front door myself."
"I always use the front door when I got out grocery shopping," said mother, "and my map says that is still the best way for me to go."
"What am I going to do?" asked Sharon.
"Just go to the back door of the apartment building and go from there," said mother.
"But how do I get there? There won't be any police or Cartilogical officials outside in the hall, will there?"
"Ask the first person you find heading for that door," suggested father. "You'd better hurry and get an early start since you're using your map for the first time."
"I haven't finished my toast," said Sharon.
"You can eat anything in two seconds when you want to," said Mother.
Sharon rose to the challenge by gobbling the rest of her toast in a second and a half. She scooped up her books and map, then stopped at the mirror to make sure her dress looked just right. She was wearing a dress with a pastel floral design, one of her favorites, to celebrate the occasion.
"Don't be late," said mother as she kissed Sharon on the cheek and gently pushed her out the door.
"Have a good day, sweetie," said Father, blowing a kiss from the breakfast table.
In the hallway, Sharon looked both ways but saw no one. Since she usually went left to reach the front door, she decided she would go right, hoping that would lead to the back door. With her face buried in her map, Sharon started off, walking at a good clip, but did not get far before she ended up against the face of Gerald Kaylen. Two pieces of paper were sandwiched between their noses, and their schoolbooks were strewn on the floor. They both took a step backwards. Sharon lowered her map and rubbed her nose. Gerald did the same. He had blond fluffy hair and he wore a pair of glasses that Sharon suspected made him look more intellectual than he really was. He looked sharp, dressed in his school blazer with a red tie.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" each asked the other.
Sharon might have laughed if Gerald had looked the least bit amused, but he didn't. Sharon picked up her books, feeling very much like a fool. Gerald picked up his books with as much dignity as the task allowed.
"I thought maybe we would be going in the same direction this time," said Sharon.
"I might have thought the same thing of you if I thought of it at all," Gerald replied, "which I didn't."
The two children passed each other in the hallway each morning on the way to their respective schools, but otherwise they never saw each other although they were both fifth graders.
"You must know the way to the back door, then," said Sharon.
"Why should I?" Gerald asked.
"Because you go out that door every morning, don't you?"
Gerald peered at Sharon over his spectacles.
"Sharon, is this morning a morning?"
"I -- guess so."
"And do I appear to be headed for the back door of the apartment building?"
"No."
"Then it is not true that I go out the back door every morning, and therefore it does not follow that I know the way to the back door. I suppose next you're going to tell me you know the way to the front door because you go out that way every morning, but you aren't going out the front door this morning; therefore, you do not know the way out of the back door."
"Is that how they teach you to talk at your school?" Sharon asked Gerald.
"No, that's just the way I taught myself to talk at school in order to facilitate my vocation of driving teachers up the wall and keeping them there."
"Are you trying to drive me up a wall?" Sharon asked.
"Are you a teacher at my school?" Gerald asked.
"No."
"Then I am not trying to drive you up a wall."
"Good. Now, can you show me how to get to the back door of this building?"
"Why don't you just show me the way to the front door, and then walk round to the back and go from there?" Gerald asked.
"I don't have time to go out the wrong door and then go around," Sharon replied.
"And I don't have time to take you to the back door and then go around the building."
"If one of us doesn't do what we don't have time to do, than neither of us will get to school on time," said Sharon.
Sharon and Gerald stared at each other for a tense moment.
"Does your map include the back door so that you could show me how I'm supposed to get there?" Sharon asked. "My map doesn't tell me that. It only starts with the back door."
Gerald stuck his nose into his map and studied it.
"My map shows the way to the front door," said Gerald, "but then it seems to skip a couple of blocks, unless they took those blocks out last night, but if they did that, then a couple of apartment buildings got moved. Not only that, but there are more hallways on this map than I ever knew about. I heard on the radio that they put extra hallways in the apartment buildings if they were needed to make the maps work better. Maybe they put some apartment buildings inside this building, or something."
"Maybe we should go to the back door together, and then see if I can figure out what to do next," Sharon suggested.
"That would be a violation of the new regulations, which could lead to the incarceration of two juveniles in a domicile of detention."
"Can you translate that?"
Gerald gave Sharon a scornful look that did not help her feel good about herself.
"What I mean is that we had better follow our maps."
Several smartly dressed men and women carrying brief cases and their new maps passed the children in each direction. Interspersed between the people going to work were some schoolchildren with their school books. Sharon did not feel like complicating things by enlisting the help of any more children, and Gerald seemed oblivious of everything that wasn't himself and the map he was studying.
"Is there a chance these maps aren't as perfect as the radio announcer said they are?" Sharon asked in a whisper.
"There's not supposed to be," said Gerald.
"My father was a bit puzzled about his map," said Sharon.
"My parents are always off to work before I get down to breakfast," Gerald replied, " so I don't know what they thought of their maps."
"May I help you?"
The man who asked that question was smartly dressed with a coat and tie. His dark hair was perfectly combed and he stood perfectly erect. On his lapel was a name tag identifying him as Henry Harrison, representative of the World CUP System.
"My map tells me to go out the back door of the apartment building," Sharon began, "but it doesn't tell me how to get to the back door."
The young man snatched Sharon's map and looked at it.
"It's very simple," he replied after a quick look at the map. "The front door must be just outside your room."
"But it wasn't--" Sharon tried to say.
"It's quite clear on the map, so you don't need to worry about it. Just step out of your apartment and the front door will be right there. No need to worry the authorities about it. Have a good day now. May I help you?" Henry Harrison asked a woman standing behind the children.
Sharon followed Gerald away from the representative, noticing that Gerald was clutching his map to his chest with no intention of asking for help.
"I'll find a way to get us out of here," said Gerald in a low whisper, "then maybe you can help me with the first two blocks outside the building. Let's go."
Gerald led Sharon down a corridor wallpapered with yellow and orange flowers, all of which was strange to her. Apparently it was strange to Gerald as well. He stopped and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. Meanwhile, people of all ages were walking in the same direction ahead of them.
"Is this hall on your map?" Sharon asked with some misgiving.
"No. Therefore, it isn't here."
"Do you believe that?"
Gerald said nothing.
"I won't tell the World CUP System agents or the police about you," Sharon added.
"You'd better not," Gerald warned.
"I said I won't."
"I won't tell on you either."
"I suppose if we follow the crowd, we might get to the back door," said Sharon.
"Maybe. Depends on whether or not they can read their maps," said Gerald. "Or whether their maps are readable."
As he said those words, Gerald turned down a corridor going in the opposite direction from that of the other people they had been following.
"They went the other way," said Sharon.
"I noticed," said Gerald. "Guess they can't read their maps."
"Can you read yours?" Sharon asked.
Gerald stopped and whirled around to face Sharon. Down this corridor, there were oak paneled doors that Sharon had never seen before.
"Look who's talking about being lost and knowing how to read maps."
"Just because I'm lost doesn't mean you know where we are and where we're going," Sharon retorted.
Gerald started to crumple, then he pulled himself together in an unconvincing attempt to look as if he knew what he was doing.
"Sharon," said Gerald, " you can take your choice. You can go with me, or you can go in any other direction your heart desires. I didn't ask you to help me out."
When Gerald started to continue on down his corridor of choice, Sharon stomped off in a different direction, where the carpet was worn to a frazzle, just to get rid of Gerald. She didn't get far before she stumbled through an entryway into a store that looked old enough to be a museum. The shelves were filled with small cardboard boxes marked with such labels as McPherson's Shaving Cream and Baxter's Baking Powder. Near the counter there were several round barrels. Some of the barrels with filled grains. Other barrels were filled with potatoes and carrots. The smell of cinnamon filled her nostrils. The floor was wooden and worn. On the counter there were large glass jars filled with hard candy and toffee and pieces of chocolate. Over the front window of the shop, the letters of the store's name were printed backwards and Sharon could not read it. Outside the window, Sharon saw a cobbled street and a pair of horses tied to a post across from the store.
"May I help you?" asked a friendly-looking woman. She was wearing a dress and cap, such as Sharon had seen in history books.
Sharon had her mouth open to say "yes," when the word was spoken for her by Gerald. Sharon wasn't sure if she was more relieved than angry at seeing him again so soon.
"How much is a pound of chocolate?" asked Gerald, who seemed to have no problem showing his greed for candy.
"Seven cents a half One pound for twelve cents."
Gerald's jaw dropped. Sharon's would have as well if she had let it.
"How do you stay in business?" Gerald asked.
"Don't worry, I make a three cent profit per pound," the woman replied.
Gerald picked up a piece of toffee and turned it over in his hand.
"It feels like it's really here," said Gerald.
"Oh I assure you that only genuinely real candy is sold in this establishment," said the woman.
"I'm trying to figure out how your establishment can be here when theoretically it isn't here," said Gerald. "It isn't even on the map which is supposed to show the way to every place that truly exists theoretically."
"I don't know about theory," said the woman, slightly affronted, but still willing to be friendly, "but I assure you that I never work at an establishment that is not genuinely real."
"In that case," said Gerald, "I'll take a half pound of chocolate and a half pound of toffee," said Gerald, eagerly placing a dime and two pennies on the counter.
"Very well. I trust you will share with your friend. The good things in life are nicer when you're sociable with them."
Gerald gave Sharon a startled look. Apparently he had not realized that Sharon had also found her way to the store.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped.
"I could ask you that question," said Sharon in return. "Is there a law against my entering the same store as do?"
Gerald shrugged his shoulders. The crunching sound of a carriage with metal wheels and the trotting of the horses drowned out everybody's thinking for a moment. Sharon doubted that dropping a dozen trash cans from the fifth floor of her apartment building could have been any noisier.
"Miss--" said Sharon.
"May I help you?" asked the woman as she put more candies in a paper bag.
"Uh--is this the front door of the building?" Sharon asked, pointing uncertainly towards the cobbled street.
"That has always been my genuine belief," the woman replied.
"Then that should be Flowerfield Street, shouldn't it?"
"I don't know why that should be Flowerfield Street just because it's in front of my store," said the woman. "When I woke up this morning, this was Grover Way. I suppose the city council could have changed the name to celebrate breakfast. But if they did that, they didn't bother to tellme."
"On my map it says Flowerfield Street is in front of this building," said Sharon.
"Then whoever made your map is in a state of disagreement with the city council."
"I thought there wasn't supposed to be a disagreement like that," said Sharon.
"There are many reasons why maps and street names should agree," said the sales woman, "but for what reason do you believe that your map and this street name should agree?"
"All the maps have been unified as of today so that everybody will know how to go most efficiently to where they are going without getting lost."
"A fine job they've done with these maps if you don't even know the front door from the back door," the woman returned. "If you are asking my advice as to where to find a real map that shows you the most expeditious ways to get to the most important places, I suggest you go down the street to your left two stores down. Tindy's is the best map store in town. They'll sell you a map that has the street names marked properly and the map will be worth looking at to boot."
"Will it show me the way to the General Child Institute on 41st Avenue?" asked Sharon
"Tindy's can sell you a map with any place on it that's worth getting to," the woman replied. "Thank you very much, come back again as soon as your sweet tooth gets hollow!" The woman scooped up the coins Gerald had put on the counter and tossed them into an old cash register that rang several bells with a flourish.
Gerald stepped out onto the cobblestone street, took a piece of toffee from his bag and munched on it. Another horse drawn carriage passed in front of him. Gerald walked up to the corner, not looking back at Sharon who held back and sauntered towards Tindy's Cartology Shop where huge parchment maps were displayed in the show window. Gerald looked up at the street sign and then at his map. He shook his head in disgust and walked back towards Tindy's. Sharon hastily stepped into the store so that it would not look as if she had gone in with him if he should enter as well.
Tindy's Cartology Shop looked more to Sharon like an art store than anything else. On one wall was mounted a large map with a few islands drawn on it surrounded by large pictures of various sea monsters. Throughout the store there were barrels filled rolled up parchment sheets. Sharon was afraid to even touch any of them without permission. Each step raised a cloud of dust from the floor that made Sharon sneeze. Looking behind her, Sharon saw her footprints in the dust leading back to the front door. And she saw Gerald walking in, stirring up all the more dust as he went and wrinkling his nose.
"What are you looking for?" asked a friendly-sounding man.
It took Sharon a moment to focus on the storekeeper who had spoken. He was a plump, bald man sitting cross-legged on a dusty counter. He was wearing a linen shirt and a pair of suspenders over his shoulders to hold up his baggy trousers.
"Can you find us a map that tells us how to get from Grover Way to Flowerfield Street? If you can do that, we can follow our maps to the schools we're trying to go to. And I fear we are rather late already."
"Dear, dear, my dearies," said the shopkeeper. "It won't do to be late. We may have to map out a new time scheme to get you there on time."
The shopkeeper hopped off the counter, coughed when the dust hit him full in the face, and ambled over to one of the barrels.
"Flowerfield Street...Flowerfield Street...hmm...not in this time frame. Let's see your map."
Sharon unfolded her map and showed it to the shopkeeper.
"Pfui! Never saw such a bad piece of drawing in my life! And I've seen a few clamheads on the job in my day!"
It's is a computer-generated map," Sharon explained.
"Com- comp - p - pp -- what did you say?"
"Computer-generated," said Gerald. "It's all in the World Cartilogical Unified Project System. You know, the World CUP System."
"Hmpf! No, I don't know. Last year's Cartilogical Convention did lead to a few agreements and one of them was that maps shouldn't be drawn with worthless faded pencils like this one! Where did you get it?"
"From my computer, in my apartment," said Sharon.
"Com -- com - p! - pp! yuu -- commm -- pp! yuu!" the shopkeeper spluttered with a violent sneeze at the end.
"Computer," said Sharon.
"Thank you, could have said it myself. Well, you'll never find anything on a map like this. Let me see here -" The shopkeeper riffled through the rolls in the barrel. "Now where are you trying to get to?"
"The General Child Institute on 41st Avenue," Sharon replied as patiently as she could.
"And I am trying to find the Franklin W. Richard District Pedagogical Association on Rivervary Street," said Gerald.
"No wonder you can't find it," said the shopkeeper, "when the name itself is nine miles long--now let's see here--I think you two children need a special map, one that will help you in time of need--let's see here--- "
"We need very badly to find our ways to our schools before the truant officers catch us and put us in jail," said Sharon.
"That's what I mean," said the shopkeeper, "if they--whoevertheyare--think they have unified all the maps--then there's bound to be trouble for nice children like you who walk the real streets of life--so I think I had better sell you a map that can get you home -- "
"But we have to get to our schools first before we can go home," Sharon protested.
Gerald munched on one chocolate after another as he looked absently about the store.
"Ah! Here we are!" cried the shopkeeper, as he pulled out a roll triumphantly.
He shuffled over to the counter and unrolled the parchment. The beautiful curved lines drawn in dark blue and bright red lines were a sight to behold. In the middle of the map there was a drawing of a large tree whose branches and roots were entangled with all the streets and pathways. In the lower right hand corner was a drawing of a dragon in black ink with bright green eyes. Sharon's heart sank.
"It's beautiful, but-"
"What are the dragons for?" asked Gerald, who also did not look enthusiastic.
"Why, dragons are on the map because they are likely to be on your route," answered the shopkeeper. "You follow the blue path through the underwater caves and then the dragon follows the red path in the air, and you're all set. Just make sure the dragon has green eyes before you give him the map and hop on his back."
"This is just what we need," said Sharon, making her tone as sarcastic as she could without sounding too rude.
"Yes, I think it is," said the store keeper. "This map will cost eleven cents."
"Uh--I'll share some of my candy if you can buy this map," said Gerald.
Sharon thought that a clever way of telling her that he had spent all his money on the candy. However, this was also her best chance to get some candy for herself
"It's a penny cheaper than the candy I bought for us, so you're coming out ahead," said Gerald.
"But you haven't given me any candy and I don't even want this map!"
"You have to want the map!" cried Gerald. "Can't you see we're in trouble and we need all the help we can get?"
"From paper dragons?" Sharon retorted.
"Now, now," said the shopkeeper, "aren't you two a bit young to be having a lover's quarrel?"
The cheeks of both children turned red.
"We're not lovers and we're not quarreling," said Gerald, "we're just lost together and we just can't come to an agreement just yet as to how we are to negotiate the discrepancy of reality and theoretical theory which we are experiencing."
"Please don't tell the agents of the World Cartilogical Project about him," Sharon whispered to the shopkeeper.
"If any agent who had anything to do with the frightful map you'vegot should come around," the shopkeeper whispered in reply, "I will be so preoccupied with my critique of the poor draftsmanship that I am sure I won't think of anything else to say."
"Do you really think this map will help us?" Sharon asked Gerald.
"Do you have any other alternatives to suggest?" Gerald replied.
"We could try climbing the tree on this map!"
"Think you can even find the tree without this map?" Gerald asked.
"But--this map doesn't even have Flowerfield Street on it," Sharon protested.
"Than it would not be profitable for you to go by way of Flowerfield Street," said the salesman.
Perhaps Sharon would never have bought the map if she were not feeling a few hunger pangs and an ache from her sweet tooth. She held out her hand until it was well filled with toffee and chocolates, then she nodded in agreement. She opened her change purse and took out two nickels and a penny and handed the coins over to the shopkeeper.
"I wish you many fulfilling journeys through the map's agency," said the shop keeper as he pocketed the money.