Freely Offered

When you started the climb, you could hear a faint rumbling above. Wondering if it was dragons and hoping it wasn't, you began your voyage. Now, as you continue to climb higher and higher and become ever more dizzy and out of breath from the arduous circular stairs, you wonder why you ever decided to do this. You reflect that the inhabitant of this high outpost must be in excellent condition. Then you have another idea -- maybe he cheats and has an elevator tucked into some obscure corner. As you look hopefully for signs of one and continue to move upward, you wonder if this climb was specifically designed to remind you how unimportant you are.

As you climb toward the outer atmosphere, the rumbling has grown more distinct and you can make out music. Thankful it is not dragons, you round another corner, only to find a door blocking your way. As you stand there debating what to do, a voice says "HELLO". Startled out of your skull, you look wildly for the voice, which continues to interrogate you. Concluding that the voice comes from a hidden speaker, you answer with what you hope are the answers the voice wants to hear. Apparently the answers were satisfactory, for you hear "ENTER" and the door opens, only to close with an ominous 'click' immediately after you pass through. You realize you are now in Stein's domain.

As you continue to climb you begin to see signs of intelligence. Several anti-smoking signs and drawings decorate the walls, but there is no ash tray. Thinking you are lucky you do not smoke and wondering what happens to smokers who make it this far, you continue to climb and observe the walls. Scattered around are posters advertising many different and varied computer games, apparently chosen for their artistic value. Several holograms and amazingly life-like images of animals pop out from nowhere periodically, strategically placed to rattle your nerves. As you round another corner, you see an American flag hanging next to the flag of Uruguay. You have reached your goal. You are now in Stein's room.

You look out a window, fully expecting to see clouds floating below you along with a weather balloon or two. Instead, you discover you are only a few stories above the ground. Wondering how Stein tamed a time-space warp large enough for the stairs, you proceed.

You have been able to make out the music distinctly for awhile now; you recognize the theme from "Star Wars". Others who have survived the ordeal have reported selections as varied as classical, pop, jazz, and country. You feel the music -- the bass is making your stomach churn. You try to locate the speakers and other technology used to create the unbelievably realistic music, thinking that Bose or Sony would give their eyeteeth to have a look at them, but they are not to be found.

Having ended your climb, you stand amazed at how the ordinary room has been transformed into a veritable fairyland you will remember the rest of your life. Posters of every size and subject have taken over the ceiling. As you look at them, you realize they are arranged to make an exotic scene. Garfield here, Star Wars there, incongruous by themselves, in this exquisite tapestry they help build an illusion that makes you want to walk right out of this world and into the one on the ceiling. There are only two windows in the room, but the view from them adds to and heightens the perceived reality.

Massive bookshelves line one wall, books of every type, size, shape, and language filling them to overflowing. Sharing the selves are cereal boxes containing a similar diversity of magazines. Also sharing the shelves is a small portion of the immense stereo system you felt earlier. A desk stands along the wall next to the bookcase, covered inside and out by stickers of all types. The wall across the room from the bookcase is hidden behind a second skin of tapes and CDs which encompass every style of music imaginable, including some you have not heard of before. This music library is surrounded by postcards, pictures, and drawings. At one end of this wall is the side of a closet, which has been transformed into a bulletin board. Several cartoons and postcards are here, dwarfed by a Leblanc poster. Resting against the closet wall is yet another bookshelf, filled with even more books. The second side of the closet that faces the room is a door, on which several All State Music t-shirts are displayed, and on the other side of the music library a chimney juts out which is covered with the inevitable posters. Prominent among them is one advertising the Knowledge Master Open, which inquiry reveals to be a grueling, three hour national test given on computer.

In the wall between the closet and the bookshelves is one of the two windows, above which hang several shelves filled with many and varied knick-knacks. A laser picture catches your eye, but it is overshadowed by two paintings masterfully done in finger paints; enquiry reveals the artist of these was a sixteen-year old. Under the window are several plants and what appear to be miniature trees.

Littered across the floor are several instruments: a bassoon, a clarinet, electric and electronic pianos, several synthesizers, samplers, and sequencers, and a guitar; its case, like the desk, is adorned with a second skin of stickers. A grand piano sits in one corner of the room. Sitting on shelves in another corner of the room are Apple IIGS and Macintosh II computers, and NeXT and Sun workstations, along with terminals for several Crays, all emitting strange noises. Several more strange devices also repose on these shelves; you assume they are also computers, but they look like nothing you have ever seen. Along with these devices sit several peripherals common and not-so-common outside this room.

Stein has been composing, but has stopped to read his mail. "I get more junk mail" he mutters as the offending papers are thrown unceremoniously into the circular file. A few minutes later more letters get filed, accompanied by another mutter about the third teaching offer from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in a month. Turning once more to his keyboards, Stein looks up and notices you.

"Yes?"

As you start to answer a female voice announces that lunch is served. Stein rushes down the stairs, somehow avoiding the time warp you had to labor through. Encouraged that even geniuses such as stein must obey their mothers, you sit down to wait, reflecting on the things with which best friends put up.