The problem is, if you want just a plain old peanut-butter sandwich, which is grown in loaves with layers of peanut-butter between layers of bread layers, it tastes like raw fish. The tomatoes, which grow in a sort of gelatin block and can be sliced, taste like fish and peanut-butter.
Outdoors it is no better: the playground was designed eons ago by a landscape architect hired by the Bermese Pythion company as part of their Art for the People public works which meant that they didn’t have to pay local taxes.
There are eighty kids in homeroom and it is impossible for the teacher to keep order, especially today, when all the kids are wrecks, knowing in a minute they will file to the auditorium for the test. Julie arrives and takes a seat in the back of the class. This is where the kids sit who claim to worship Deepak Chopra and Tupac Shakur.
And then it is time, the auditorium, the sheets passed out, the whole thing made to seem… scary. “You may now open your test booklets which you will find in your computers on www.EighthGradeEducation.com!” The principal’s voice cracks through the air. “And… you may begin!” Loud music comes on over the speakers, some of the latest hit tunes the kids have asked for.
Three whole hours; a quick lunch break and then more.
MATH:
If the time before Christ is B.C. and after Christ is a.d., what is the time during which he was alive called. A) D.j. b) d.c. C) J.C. D) the twelve thousand forty-five days
Gladys bought two shares in Bermese Pythion stock. Over a one-year period the 52-week high was 84.8 while the low was 63.29. If the quarterly dividends were .68 of a share and the last change was +8.01, what is your prediction for the next annual report in the event that the Warren Buffet clone is twenty years of age and available? show all work.
ENGLISH:
A cat-o’-nine tails is to the English as
a) Hologramovision is to an American b) Lala Rookh is to Muslims c) Perl Mista is to a dinner party d) Teapot Dome is to taffeta
An olive is to a chair as a) an umbrella is to an algebra equation b) as buttered toast is to an alarm clock c) a cataract is to a catamite
A borsalino is to an isotherm as a) gaiters are to a monstrance b) ontology is to a philanderer c) an anchorite is to a hectare d) a pood is to a jeroboam
Suttee is to a suicide as a) a suture is to a surgeon b) sewage is to a sturgeon c) a surge protector is to a superior d) solution is to a servant.
Oh, bowel movement, she thinks, she’ll try to guess – that gives at least a one in four chance – maybe it is sewage is to a sturgeon… then realizes, she doesn’t actually know what a sturgeon is, something to do with a boat? An old kind of sailing ship? In which case, they would have plenty of sewage on board – unless the toilets in those days went right in a hole down to the water – but then, in that case, wouldn’t the…
bilge, yes that’s the right word, wouldn’t the bilge come up, back into the sturgeon?
The ship’s sturgeon… her head really hurts, and to make matters worse, her laptop – on which the test is – emits an odd sound and the question is… it isn’t lost, exactly, it has mysteriously converted into a little table, a diagram of some sort, and she can’t revert it back to its original shape. Now so much time has gone by she knows she is going to flunk. Flips through the test, a picture!
SPORTS MARKETING:
In this famous work by Jean-Louis David, entitled ‘The Tennis Court Oath’ discuss the use of foul language at Forest Hills and Wimbledon in the centuries since this was first painted and how it compared to what was being said in French. Describe the similarities and differences in clothing style and logos, advertising and sponsors.
There are almost two thousand kids in her school who are in the eighth grade; only half can fit into the auditorium so the others will take the test, a different one, tomorrow. Most of the kids are illegal immigrants, and it is obvious the only jobs that will be open to them are at the fast food franchises, and nowadays you have to go to a two-year college for that, or else get all the service positions out in Nature’s Caul Valley, working for the rich people. Sitting next to her is one of the Chinese girls, for some reason they are mostly named Maya. If only she had been adopted from China, it really isn’t fair, how come her mother had found, like, the only two fertile guys left on the planet who naturally had no brains… And all those Chinese girls, when they grew up, they got to go to China where there were like, a billion guys for every girl.
At this rate she is going to fail completely. “Psst!” she says. “Maya… you gotta help me. I can’t do an essay! What am I supposed to write?” Maya ignores her… maybe she should just go on.
LOGIC:
What comes next in the following list?
High boy; cowboy; toy boy; rent boy; drummer boy; delivery boy; cabana boy; whipping boy; head boy; dough boy; Boy Wonder; cabana boy; dog boy; down, boy! fat boy; charpoy; golden boy; The Beach Boys; Boy George; cabana boy; po’ boy; tom boy; bugle boy; hoi polloi; house boy
Logic? Is that something they even learned? This isn’t working, if you can’t answer a question keep going but… there is another goddamned essay section of the test!
In Song of Solomon, Solomon says, “Of the writing of books there is too many.”
What were the names of the books? Use your best judgment. Defend your position.
Holy intestinal extrusion! Where has she been all semester? She can’t remember ever being assigned the Song of Solomon. Was it something in her Musical Theater and Film class? The whole thing is a nightmare, she could look it up but obviously, all ZiplineNet 23 service has been cut off… Everyone else is writing eagerly. Keep moving, keep going forward, then if there is time she can go back to check the work…
What was the largest grossing movie of 2029? Write a plot synopsis, explaining why you think that movie was so effective. Explain the difference between net and gross profit. Extra Credit: provide biographical detail of this film’s producer.
Just for fun? Just for fun? My gosh it is so difficult to do anything with her hands all bandaged up…
Oh b.m., b.m., British museum! Why had she been such a rectum and not studied more; let there be a fire drill, let there be a bomb threat, something has to happen, she is going to end up with a big fat zero and nowadays you gotta do better than that even to be a bathroom attendant.
To her horror, her computer is eating everything in front of her. It is just swallowing up the whole text, little bugs are crawling out from under the keys, not fake bugs but the damn cockroaches!
Not that she is the only one to have cockroaches in her laptop, mind you, it’s just that she isn’t as tidy as the other girls, something sticky is on the keys and maybe if she had spritzed with that disinfectant the teacher kept telling them all to use…
She gives the laptop a shake; man that thing stinks, piles, clouds of cockroach droppings, like pepper flecks, come tumbling out of the holes in the back and the stench is tremendous, that cockroach smell of death, along with a nasty collection of dried legs, feelers, fragments of carapace. She’s about to start smashing the emerging newborns (very new, since they are still in their just-hatched, newly white stage) when a big guy comes out and just in time she realizes she’s about to smash Greg! He’s got that red spot and he’s waving his feelers at her; quickly she scoops him up and zips him into her bag.
Chateaux, the girl next to her, wrinkles her nose: oh, come on, there is no way Chateaux lives in a place that is any cleaner, those damn bugs are everywhere, she only wishes Chateaux hadn’t seen her rescuing Greg, it’s going to get around school, she bets.
Maybe her prayers have been heard: the giant hologramovision screen on the wall in back of the stage, which is constantly turned on, goes blank.
The kids applaud, they are so sick of the Educational Station: pictures of canyons filled to the brim with beer cans, dying elephants, effects of drought where lakes are drying up, animals being euthanized in shelters, hurricanes wiping out villages, the polar ice-caps melting, irradiated kids dying
where nuclear power plants have exploded, etc. etc., and while these scenes play, at the bottom of the screen is the number you can call to donate money – anyway, all this goes blank.
When it comes on again this time it is the President. The kids taking the test begin to cheer; if he is interrupting the educational channel they had better listen! Even if it means not completing the test!
“Today’s security has been upgraded to Code Lime/23,” he says. “I urge you all to return to your homes and remain calm. We believe the threat of terrorist action to be very real. We believe this to be a very deliberate attempt to sabotage the coverage of my wedding. Nevertheless we have no plans to cancel this evening’s hologramovision broadcasts of the wedding supper followed by dancing to the Duchin-Haywood Orchestra, and this morning’s ceremony, as you may know, has gone smoothly. However, at the present time for your own safety, details cannot be released. As citizens of our great nation, I suggest that you make sure your Homeland Emergency Supply Kit is fully stocked and has not reached its expiration date. While you stay close to home this afternoon and evening, a helpful hint might be to turn to the Shopping Network. To keep our economy strong, for a limited time only the updated Emergency Supply Kit 2200Q will be available at a special price. Shipping and handling not included.” The sound grows fuzzy, maybe something is really wrong?
While he is blabbing the kids begin to print out whatever part of the test they have finished and fold up their computers. At least this way maybe Julie can re-do the whole thing, she’ll have the excuse that, as a Homeland Girl Guard, she has security duties to perform and she can say that somehow in her haste the print-out got lost, they have to schedule a make-up test, right? Nothing ever happens when the President says there is going to be a terrorist attack anyway.
The war has been going on now for… what, thirty years? Sixty? It isn’t always the same war but close enough; different countries take over from time to time on one side or another, mostly to get their turn at off-loading some weaponry they had been forced to buy or manufactured themselves that is rapidly becoming outdated.
The buses are lined up outside the school and she is about to get on when her mother pulls up. “What are you doing, Mom? You’re not supposed to be out, you should have gone home, didn’t you hear it’s a Code Lemon?” She looks around at the kids lining up to get on the bus.
“You, young lady, are in big trouble…” Murielle is white-lipped.
Julie doesn’t dare speak. The car is full of rage, they are sealed in together in an airless room filled with wet concrete. They drive in silence. The house is not far from the lab and her mother’s work, La Galleria Senior Mall and Residence Home for the Young at Heart. Her mother knows the back routes.
Maybe her mother can be jollied out of whatever mood she is in. “Sure is hot out here, huh?” Julie says. Her mother doesn’t respond.
Usually the weather is far more changeable. This heat has gone on for months, no rain at all or when it does it has higher-than-usual acidity. The raindrops sting your arms, blister the siding of houses. There is nothing left alive outside the car, even where things are not paved over, the plants and trees have died long ago, except for the property around the Bermese Pythion laboratories, where specialized trees and grasses have been planted, also genetically engineered.
Her mother is definitely in a sulk. Now all Julie has to look forward to is a long evening of cleaning out her own animals’ cages in the basement, and then, before getting to play with them, she will have to fix dinner. It seems odd that her mother is not berating her or telling her what a difficult day she had. Murielle is in a deep black funk, speechless, a sack of skin filled with rage, slamming doors, maybe not speaking to Julie for days, weeks upon end… leaving Julie unable to figure it out. “Ma,” she says at last, nervously, “Ma, is everything all right? Is it that Grandpa told you?”
Her mother acts as if a cork is pried from her mouth. A gassy explosion. Julie flinches. “Grandpa? Why? What did you do to him?” Murielle drips with cold sarcasm. “Listen to me: I had a call today, from A. Jesse. He says things have gone missing from the labs at Bermese Pythion, things, I mean animals and did I know anything about it; you are suspected… Lucky for you I didn’t tell A. Jesse that I figured you probably had done it. I told him, ‘If she did take anything I don’t know anything about it, yes she has some pets at home but she’s had them a long time.’ Believe me Julie, if you did something and you get caught I’m not gonna be there to bail you out! Why can’t you be like your sister?”
Julie bursts into tears, she begs to be forgiven. “Ma?” Julie is frightened. “What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know what to say, Julie, if they decide to come over and search and you have their lab experiments, that’s the main thing they’re afraid of, that the projects will get in the hands of the wrong people or infest an area. Dyllis will probably lose her job, and I guess if you have their things, they’ll send you to juvenile detention or prison, whatever a judge decides.”
“Ma, I don’t feel so good. You better pull over.” She is out the door, vomiting copious amounts of what appears to be lime Jell-O. Small raspberry-colored things writhe in the transmission-fluid-green pool.
“Julie, you look awful. All kind of… Oh my gosh, ugh, you got pimples! Lots of them. Holy Excrement, it’s that Cox-Weems Pox, what should I do?” Murielle peers intently. Boils are rising as she inspects.
“I’m fine, Mama. Maybe something I ate.”
“They said on HGMTV that it was a terrorist biochemical attack. We’re going to the hospital.”
“Ma! I just puked, that’s all.”
It’s no use.
The hospital it is.
It is so nice of Cliffort to visit her for a while and give her mother a rest. Murielle goes to the cafeteria for a quick cup of coffee and some green jelly. Cliffort is so dreamy, she can’t help but smile when she sees the nurses and doctors do a double take, he really does look like a movie star. He gently pats her on the tummy and then bends to her ear. “My gosh, Julie… you’ve got quite a little tum-tum there, there’s no way you think you might be… you know.”
“What?”
“Um, how to put it? In the family way, enceinte, preggers, knocked up, a bun in the oven, big with child.”
“But how could I be?” She can barely speak, her voice is a whisper and for some reason she is not allowed anything to drink. But she manages to whisper, “I mean, I’m too young, I never even got my period, how could I be?”
“Stranger things have happened,” says Cliffort with a wink. “As the actress said to the bishop.” He takes a step back as the nurse enters the room with two giant objects resembling pills, or coated candy, each a bit bigger than a fist. She shoves the first into Julie’s mouth and tells her to bite down. Then the nurse turns her over and inserts the other in her bottom.
Julie wants to scream but instead she bites down. The thing in her mouth is full of a kind of liquid chalk with the flavor of blue cheese. She wants to say maybe the nurse got the two things mixed up, put the suppository in her mouth by mistake? But she can’t speak, she is half-choked and in pain.
“Nurse Dawn?” Cliffort glances quickly at her nameplate. “Perhaps you can answer the question: a friend and I have a little bet going. He says a woman can’t get pregnant before her first period.”
“Untrue,” snarls Nurse Dawn, as she yanks out a chunk of Julie’s hair. “The lab has asked for this for analysis before the intubation. Then we’ll have to do another, after.”
“And, part two, could the mere presence of spawn in the vicinity of the vulva find its own way up the vaginal canal?”
“Spawn?”
“Sperm, semen, jism, spunk, cum, ejaculate, tadpoles, manly nectar –”
The nurse is distracted. “What? Oh yes, I s’pose it could happen.” Julie can’t help but think that her mother and Cliffort are taking a secret delight in what is being done to her. They watch her expression as plugs of skin are re
moved with some sort of device resembling a hole punch; then, most horrible of all, Nurse Dawn inserts a speculum so that scrapings can be taken, to prepare her for the intubation. A group of medical students enter the room in order to watch.
By stretcher she is taken down the hall and placed in a narrow tube that slowly slides into another tube for resonancing of some sort, which wouldn’t be so awful except her body has to be practically frozen to reduce her temperature, she has to lie naked on a bed of ice for nearly an hour. They put a nasty suctioning device into her ear and painfully vacuum stuff out which hurts an unbelievable amount.
Still they keep saying they are trying to lower her temperature; she is sure she has heard a doctor say she is to be given some pain medication but no one does this and instead, still naked on the bed of ice, she is deposited on a stretcher in a hallway where everyone who walks by stops to stare.
Hours go by. More and more people – doctors? Interns? Official-looking men in drab suits! And someone claiming to be the Head of Security for Bermese Pythion – he wants to talk to her, even though she is stark naked and shaking! But curiously he disappears when she pukes, this time a lemon-yellow material, spongiform in appearance, dappled with holes from which protrudes something resembling waving, wiggling antennae…
They Is Us Page 22
