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Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1532312
Are our children's characters made by nature or nuture?
“A”

Amanda L. Shore


         “A” grips the bed. This is contact. The light turns on and “A” opens her eyes.

3…2…1
Good morning. This is voice.

Good morning, says “A”. This is speech.

“A” has learned this. She has learned the words and actions for eating, sleeping, tired and awake, happy and sad. She has learned how to identify these things within herself through lessons taught by the invisible They that control her every moment. From them she knows she is not alone, she knows that there are others “somewhere”.

“Somewhere” is elsewhere, elsewhere than where she is, which is somewhere in the world, she thinks.
***

         Today the program is love. Johnny looks at Casey. Casey looks at Johnny. Johnny touches Casey. Touches. To touch, a verb.
Casey looks at Johnny. Looks. To look, another verb.
Johnny kisses Casey. Kiss. To kiss, big verb.
They love each other. Love. Not a verb…a feeling?

Feeling. To feel, a verb.

I know this and more. After all, there’s not much to do here in the Hub but learn. I’ve never met anyone else like me, I’ve seen them but we’ve never met, never touched. The Scientists, They tell me I should be honored that I am part of the experiment that will change the world.

The Hub is where I exist. The Hub is where I eat, sleep and watch the screen. The screen is a large rectangle, plastered against the forward wall. I deem this to be the forward wall because it is the wall to which all my furniture is faced and from which my meals are served. I have a controller to turn the screen on and off, but the Scientists have a controller also. When I was younger they would turn the screen on and off. On when they wanted me to learn, off when they wanted me to sleep. Now they only turn it on to talk to me. I am expected to educate myself.
         Across from the screen is my bed. It is in the shape of a square with a large cushion to sleep on. Next to my bed is my desk, which faces the screen. This is where I do my lessons. There is nothing else in the room, not like on the programs I watch. In the programs I watch there is no Hub, the kids have bedrooms with lots of furniture, desks, tables, chairs, shelves, books. And they exist “outside.”

Unlike these kids I have lived in the Hub for as long as I can remember. They tell me I am special. During my time here I have learned from the programs on the screen about car chases, guns, drugs, violence, heartbreak, corrupt cops ,murderers and other bad things that exist in the outside world. I am here so that They can learn how to stop these things. All I have to do is learn and live here in the Hub until they tell me I can leave.
***
They tell me I might one day be let out. I might be given new clothes. I might go to a school.  A school is an institution for instruction, there is no screen and the people are taught by a They in a large room. Then they leave and go home. I might get “parents”.
***
         They stand, pens flick, flick, flicking on paper, heads going up and down as if on springs. Up and down, up and down. One eye on the page, one eye on me. One eye on the page, one eye on me.
They wear white coats done up all the way to the neck. I cannot see their legs or their feet, only their waists. I can see their faces. There are four of They. Lined up in a row like worshippers in a parish. They have faces, brown, yellow, white and beige. Their eyes are never pointed directly me. They keep them slanted, so I will not make contact. I do not know if They look at me, but then what else is there to look at?

I cannot see the room They stand in.

Are They there all the time? Or do They have homes? Do They have “parents”? They ask me questions and I have to answer. I ask Them questions, but I never get an answer.

***
         “They” say I may get parents one day.

So I practice.

“Hello mother?”

“Hello, father?”

Then there is “embracing”. To embrace, a verb.  I go towards the desk. Standing at one end I bend down and open my arms. I wrap my arms around the hard desk and squeeze, shutting my eyes tight.

“Hello, parents,” I whisper.

I repeat this exercise everyday; sometimes I use the chair. I approach from behind and enfold the back of the chair, pressing my chin against the top and “smiling”.
Everyday I do this until I am sure I have it perfect. Then I practice “kissing.”
I kneel in front of the desk so I am eye level with the top. With my pencil I draw a circle. I lean forward so my nose touches the edge of the circle I have drawn. The desk smells like fresh paper. I try to remember the way they do it on the program. I recall the way their lips pucker up like those of the animal species, fish. The floor is hard and my knees begin to ache, but I cannot move until I try a kiss. I extend my lips and think of a fish, I try to imitate a fish and stick out my lips as far as they will go. They are pursed so tightly that my teeth grind together, uncomfortably. Finally, my lips touch wood, it is cool, I have never felt wood with my lips before and I withdraw quickly. Is wood what human touch is like? I try again and this time I leave my lips on a little longer, feeling the firm wood under my lips. I can smell the timber and I think that this is what a forest must smell like. The pressure I put behind my lips squishes my nose against the desk, I try to get a feeling, but I feel nothing. Pressing my lips against the desk is the same as pressing my hand against it. Is this what a human “feels” when they kiss? Then how come they are always so happy when they do it? I try again and still feel nothing but awkwardness. My lips are sore from being pressed so long against a hard surface. I massage them gently to try and get the numbness out. It feels good when I massage them. Tomorrow I will watch a program about “kissing” and see what I am doing wrong.

***
         I am given new clothes today. A skirt, a blouse and a sweater. These replace the slacks and long sleeved shirt I am accustomed to wearing. The skirt is long and pleated reaching all the way to my ankles. I am uncomfortable in it I prefer my slacks. The blouse is stiff and itchy, but I like the sweater, it is warm and comforting. I wear these clothes for one day. The next day racks of clothes are brought in. I am told that I may choose to keep what I am wearing or choose new clothes from the rack. The feeling I have is excitement. On the rack there is an assortment of clothing. There are more skirts of different lengths, slacks and blue jeans. There are blouses, T-shirts and sweaters. I try on a pair of blue jeans but I find them too tight. So I choose a pair of slacks that are black in color, these are comfortable. Next I pick out a black shirt and a red sweater. I think these will go well together but I have no mirror. I have only ever seen myself for a bit, but it wasn’t anything exciting. Once when I was little They brought one in a second time when I turned eleven, that was the last time I ever got to look at myself.
         They bring a mirror in when I have chosen my clothes. They say, look at yourself, what do you see?

I look into the mirror and lock eyes with a girl of medium height. She has brown eyes with straight brown hair that hangs limply around her round face. Below her neck there are two bumps. These are breasts. I have known that I have been growing breasts but seeing them in the mirror, is terrifying. The mirrored image stares at me with bulging eyes, taking in everything. Is this really me? Is this how I will be seen when I leave the Hub? What will people think of me?
***
         The door opened. Today was the day. I had on my new clothes; I’d washed my face and brushed my teeth. I was ready. The light from the open door streamed in and for a moment I was blind.

My eyes adjusted and I looked around in awe. I was outside the room I’d lived in for thirteen years.

I found myself in a white room or a “laboratory” There were desks and computers, machines of all kinds and several people in white coats. It was They.
I heard the door close behind me and I turned to see one of They behind me. It was a male, with graying hair at his temples and an austere gaze. I swallowed hard. He didn’t meet my gaze but looked over my head to another one of They.

“Let’s move out the others, I’ll bring this one to the common room.”

Others?  Could there be others here like me? I’d never imagined such a possibility. Then again it had never occurred to me why I was here in the first place. I wasn’t special. Maybe that’s why They were releasing me now because They had discovered I wasn’t special.
A thousand thoughts race through my brain, I didn’t even notice the man’s firm hand on my shoulder until I realized my legs were moving and I was being led out of the lab. Fear seized me, an emotion I’d never felt before. I was leaving the one place I had always been safe. Now I was vulnerable, I was out in the open. What was going to happen to me?

The room I was led into was very bright. It was a circular room with white walls and brown upholstered furniture. There were two semi-circular couches, one across from the other and two chairs, also opposite each other that filled in the gaps. It was a circle of furniture inside a circular room, very peculiar. The room felt cold and I shivered involuntarily. The man looked at me sharply. I smiled shyly.

“Sit,” he instructed.

I sat. My lips were so stiff that they stuck together. My arms were firmly squeezed against my body as I tried to make myself smaller.  I waited. The room was like a tomb. What seemed like hours passed by before another human being entered. It was another of They, this time a female. She was leading before her a young boy. I stared in shock. This boy was my age, tall and lanky with cropped hair. He was wearing dark jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Another one, like me. Was he from the outside or did he live here too? His face mirrored my astonishment and fear as he was directed to the seat opposite mine. A few moments later three more of They entered each with another human like myself. There were five of us in total; all seated on the brown furniture like tourists in a foreign country. They surrounded us and murmured among themselves. It appeared as if we were waiting for something.

I wanted to cry.

A man in a dark suit entered the room. He was plump like a rooster, with thinning dark hair running away from his forehead. Small tinted black frame glasses rest on his bulbous nose in front of beady green eyes that take us all in with greedy amusement.
         My heart began to beat furiously, there was sweat on my palms and my armpits felt clammy. All this waiting was unbearable. Finally the plump man spoke,

“Children, congratulations on reaching the brilliant age of thirteen. Your journey into adulthood is beginning and we here at Zed-Taph are here to make that journey as pleasant and educational as possible.”

Clasping his chubby hands in front of him, he looked to be quite pleased with himself and was about to continue when a flash of movement caught his attention. A female with curly brown hair had raised her hand and was holding it above her head like the students on the screen programs.

Taken aback the man addressed the girl, “Er...yes? My child? You have a question?”

The female put her hand down and took a deep breath, “I want to know sir, why we are here. Why us? We are not like the others that we’ve been shown on the programs.”

I had been wondering the same thing but I was awed by this female’s courage.

The plump man recovered his composure and answered, “You have been selected because you are special children. This is a place of higher learning and you are the privileged few who have been selected to be here.”

The female’s arm shot up again. The plump man gave her a warning stare and she reluctantly put it down.

“Now,” he continued, “You will return to your rooms and in the morning you will begin group lessons.” He gave them a tight smile. “Tomorrow, preparations begin for your release and adaptation into outside society.”
My heart jumped. We were going to be released. They were going to prepare us for the outside world and then let us out. The thought was frightening and yet thrilling at the same time. Imagine that, me in the outside world just like all those programs. I would be able to kiss! I could fall in love! The prospects made my head twirl.

The plump man was still speaking but I couldn’t concentrate, I was shaking with anticipation. When he’d finished I was led back to my room, my brain still reeling with all that awaited me outside the Hub. I was spread out on my bed when I noticed voices not coming from the screen. The door to my room had been left open and They were conversing in hushed tones within range of my hearing. I crept forward.

“I don’t know why Mr. Vaughn insists on telling the children those lies. It only gives them false hope.”

“They must believe they are working towards something. We must monitor the ways in which they go about achieving their reward. It is essential they believe that their freedom is imminent for us to determine whether their actions are natural or as a result of their lives here.”

Lies! They weren’t letting us out after all! It was all a trick!

My face was flushed, hands clenched into fists. I had never felt this way before. I glanced at the screen. It was one of my usual programs. Johnny was showing Casey how to start a bonfire. I watched my chest heaving. The paper quickly caught flame from Johnny’s match and began to spread. The flame engulfed everything. Everything was on fire. I stared at the screen but I did not see a rosy bonfire, I saw this place and all Their lying voices going up in smoke. It was amazing. I felt a strange new emotion take hold of me. Everything seemed clear now. It all made sense. I knew what I had to do.

I felt powerful for the first time in my life. I strode towards the still open door. I didn’t even hesitate as I pushed it open and stepped into the lab. There was no one there. Perfect!

I began a frantic rummage around the room. Going through every drawer, throwing everything carelessly on the floor. I didn’t care if I was caught; it was too late for that. Then, finally, I found what I needed. It was a slim canister called a lighter. I’d seen them used before on the programs so I knew how they worked. Taking the nearest stack of papers I flicked the canister and a flame shot out, licking the paper’s edge. It smoked and curled, I lit another page. It began to flame. Flames shot out at their core they  shone brown, red and purple. Always changing, flickering in and out of sight. I continued until everything was alight. It was beautiful.

The fire grew and grew taking over all the papers on the floor. It was getting very hot in the room. There was a lot of smoke and I was finding it hard to breathe. Breaking out of my reverie I realized things had gone too far. Groping desperately for something to put the fire out with my hand came across a cool glass bottle. Grabbing it, I opened the bottle and flung the contents onto the fire.

WHOOSH!
***

October 19,2010

To: President Holland Vice
From: Mr. Cornelius Vaughn
Re: Fire in laboratory #1

         Damage to notes and fieldwork extensive. Foresee many months set back. Equipment damage: 3 burned computers beyond repair, 2 scorched desks, and 4 chairs in pieces. Estimated cost for repairs to equipment and facility is $100 000.000

Concerning subject female A900. Conclusive fire was started manually by said subject. Circumstances under continued investigation. Female subject only casualty.

We look forward to the board meeting to discuss further action.

Sincerely.

C.V.
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