The Future: Some time early on Sunday morning, February 2013, just hours after Dwight’s first night with Glenda
Dwight, mastermind of the Dweebo virus, sits in his dark flat and stares at the walls.
“What have I done?” he mutters over and over. “What will happen to me now?” Blind terror fills his heart while outside the bright Sunday morning sun shines.
Like a small frightened child, he bursts into tears.
***
The Present: February 2013
But right now it is Saturday evening. Sunset falls on Glenda’s cottage, turning it golden-red. Dwight knocks at her door, thinking his heart will burst from happiness.
And there is Glenda in her blue silk gown. She looks lovelier than ever. She puts out her hand, takes the Kay quickly and without fuss. She slips it into a drawer. Then she says, “So what’s your name, sugar?”
“Dwight,” says Dwight before he can think. All his life, he has hated the name ‘Dwight’. And now, it sounds uglier and more stupid than ever.
But Glenda nods and smiles. “Aah, Dwight!” she says. “That’s a fine name. There was an American President, wasn’t there, called Dwight?”
Suddenly the name doesn’t sound stupid or ugly, not the way Glenda says it. “Yeah. Dwight Eisenhower. The thirty-fourth president.”
His love for Glenda is growing by the minute. She takes his hand and leads him into the bedroom. It is candle-lit, the bed huge beneath satin covers. Dwight tries not to think about all the other men who have lain on this same bed.
No. He will pretend this is her very first time – just as it is his very first time.
“Come on, then, sugar. Hop in,” says Glenda. She pulls back the covers. The sheets are bright purple. They shine and glisten in the candle light.
Gently she removes Dwight’s glasses and puts them on the bedside table beside the large alarm clock.
And their time together is everything – everything – Dwight has ever dreamed of. His happiness is complete. All his hard work on his laptop has paid off.
Afterwards he holds her in his arms. He kisses her forehead as she rests her head on his chest.
He thinks, “Surely now she will be mine for ever? She won’t want to be with another man. Not after this. No, she must see how much I love her!”
And maybe there will be a baby? For once, Dwight’s imagination is soaring. Imagine that! A little girl as beautiful as Glenda? Or a son who will grow up to be a genius like his Daddy? They can be a family, the three of them together for all time.
Glenda gets up, wraps her blue gown around her. “Right, sugar! I’m off to the kitchen for some orange juice. This is thirsty work! Would you like something? A beer? Iced water?”
But Dwight shakes his head. He watches as she floats out of the bedroom. Maybe when she comes back, he will ask her to marry him? Especially now that he has money.
In the candle light he sees that the clock on her bedside table says 2 am. Two in the morning! Dwight cannot believe so much time has passed. Only a few more hours and this night will be over! He must check with her about Sunday night, as soon as she comes back from the kitchen.
Then he notices the letter folded up beside the clock. He slips his glasses back on. In the candle light, he reads it. The address shows it is from St Mary’s Hospital.
It says:
Dear Ms Motubudi
We are pleased to inform you that your AIDS test has come back negative (-).
And there at the bottom in 8-point Century Gothic Italics is the word: Dweebo.
The End.
***
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