The GOD Box

by Melissa Horan

  Done with his work in less than ten minutes, Jonathan went to scavenge drawers for food. Two water containers were left. That was okay, they’d last. Beef Jerky was almost gone, but there was other dehydrated food. That junk was nasty, but it would keep them alive for as long as they needed. There was a large bucket of honey as well as some wheat berries.

  Each with jerky in hand and at either table, they watched, mesmerized. Words were worth nothing at the moment. Little metal things worked like hands for a moment on something Dane couldn’t see inside the bag. Jonathan’s attention showed him nothing was wrong, so he stared harder. Something inflated like a bubble. The little bubble filled with water. Hmm… still nothing. The longer nothing happened, the more often Dane kept looking up. This was the most patient Jonathan had ever been. Dane asked for more information,

  “So what is filling up in the bag?”

  “The balloon thing is the placenta, and the water is Amniotic fluid.”

  “how -?” Dane cut off his question. There was now panic in Jonathan’s eyes.

  “No, no…” Jonathan screamed and grabbed his hair.

  “Whoa, whoa, tell me what’s going on.” Dane coaxed him hurriedly. The old man backed up, double bent over and crying, ran into the wall and slid down clumsily. Feeling a great disappointment that it wouldn’t work, Dane slid down, too, right next to Jonathan. Highs and lows of today rivaled any Dane had ever seen or felt. It took at least an hour for Jonathan to get ahold of himself. While Dane’s own sadness had him occupied for a decent amount of time, for some reason, Jonathan’s absence irritated Dane and he wished Jonathan would just snap out of it and explain. When finally he was capable, he explained in the most depressed and strangled voice Dane had heard come from him,

  “I didn’t think… I didn’t make the connection... The time lapse and the memories have to be combined for it to work, for them to grow. Phhh…” He spoke so slow Dane was afraid he was going to lose consciousness mid-sentence. Breathing heavily and through his nose a few times helped him gather his thoughts. He sounded like he was thinking really hard in order to explain this properly; in a way Dane would understand, “… Things have to be… perfect. Without experiences to put into the brain, there can’t be any mental growth… and in this instance, because the mind is instructing the age of the body, there can’t be physical growth. Phhh…”

  No more looking Dane in the eye, he was looking down at the ground in very distracted anger. “That’s why I’m so old. My memories instructed my body to be the same age I was before.”

  Dane tried to catch up, “So you need simulated animal memories for them to have any growth?”

  A whimper came from Jonathan’s mouth as his whole body gave in more to gravity. There would be no reasoning with him for a while. It could now be seen easily that this wouldn’t work. Dane was disappointed, but felt like there was something he still wasn’t quite understanding. These tubes which were filled with blood… these were living creatures. Dane went over to the box, bringing his blanket just up to his eyes so that he could see, but wouldn’t have to feel like his lungs would freeze. All the different names were so unfamiliar to him. They were in alphabetical order, and they seemed to go on and on. The little box inside the wall was lit with a bright light. A few rows in the very back didn’t look like blood, but he didn’t have a very good angle, as it were. He scanned through to see if there was anything he recognized besides chicken. Crab, fish, he’d heard the names and recalls even eating one once. But they were scarce.

  A thought came to him that he felt like he should have had before now. Why didn’t anyone breed those like they bred chickens? Was it that they didn’t know how? Or didn’t recognize the same process would happen? Did Dane know that any animal could reproduce as well as humans? Wasn’t that the purpose of this machine? To create them so that they can reproduce? And what were they for? Could you eat them? Did they make eggs, too? But Jonathan said an egg is anti-climactic… so maybe they’re born more like human babies? He moved away from the wall before his eye balls froze. This was proof as good as any for the rest of their world that more had existed which is what they had been searching for. But how could they possibly explain? Dane felt like he and May were prepped for this, because they searched for it. It was possible to bring others in one by one to witness it. Otherwise they’d be marked as crazy and sent to every therapist that existed. But then, if these animals couldn’t come to life anyway, what good would it do? Just as well to forget about the whole thing. That is, unless Jonathan could replicate his work.

  Dane didn’t bother him for a while, for hours and more. Not too long after the event, Jonathan seemed to give up and he fell asleep. Dane decided he might as well try to sleep, too. They weren’t in a hurry to get home. He needed to figure out what was going on through Jonathan’s head… and if he’d ever be right again. Between falling asleep and talking to Jonathan, two bizarre things happened. One, he had the strangest dream where the machines worked, animal after animal just seemed to pop out of the bags. All of them resembled chickens, but some with longer legs, some with bigger heads, and they piled out innumerably until Dane was backed up against the wall and squawking filled the room in every variety. They weren’t hurting each other; they were just walking around, stepping on each other, testing out their surroundings. It was one long-necked one that came up balancing on a regular sized chicken, seemingly sniffing Dane’s face that he woke up – hands in front of his face to push the bird away.

  The second bizarre thing was when he tried to find more food. In the drawer he opened before with the jerky, there were small packets of something. Since all he wanted before was the jerky, he ignored these other things. Now that the jerky was gone, Dane picked up one of the packets that said ‘chicken noodle’. Jonathan gave no sign of notice or caution. Dane unscrewed the top piece and squeezed. Something brown and chunky blurped out onto his hand. Sneering he tested it with a dot on his finger and touched it to his tongue. It was okay… he licked it off of his hand, and swallowed before he got the full effect. Gah! Sick! He tossed it away from him to the floor. Still no movement from Jonathan. That taste would linger. Oh, that was nasty! He searched all of the drawers for something to wipe his hand on – a rag or a towel is what he found, then tossed it in the drawer with the rest of the packets. Last he gave a look of offense to the drawer as he pulled the blanket back on and went to sit next to Jonathan who was still in a wide-eyed stupor.

  From his pocket came the little green book. No reaction from the self-imposed vegetable man. Dane found a few verses of comfort. “Look here… depressed…” Dane pointed to one of the first pages of the book that had encouraging paragraphs by topic.

  “I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.” Dane looked at Jonathan for a response… nothing, so he said, “no? well… I waited patiently *cough* for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock and established my goings…” Still no response, so Dane jumped up and acted the next one dramatically, lifting his hands in the air, “Why art thou cast down, oh my soul? And why are thou…” He paused to figure out the next word, “dis..quieted? within me?! Hope in God; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and… my…. God.” He pronounced the last three words emphatically in his lowest voice. Then, hopeful, looked at Jonathan who finally took notice of what was going on, but was uninterested, so he looked back at the floor.

  “Okay, I got it. I don’t think I understood the problem, but this one should help, ‘they are enclosed in their own fat… with their mouth…” Dane could tell Jonathan had a response to that one… very slight. Dane was laughing, too, and decided not to finish the thought.

  “Oh, would you shut up?” Jonathan grumbled. There was a little grunt that resembled a laugh as he said it, though, which is what Dane was waiting for. Dane dropped the act and gave a little unenthusiastic half smile and said, />
  “Should we go then?”

  “I’d rather die here.” He responded, returning to his sour mood. He might’ve too, if Dane would have left him. Miniature daydreams about trying to have a relationship with Janine were plausible. But the thought made him cry. He promised himself it would only happen if everything else failed. That was the trophy for losing. Now, those fears were realized. Everything was filled with regret. Dane asked him if they needed to turn the machines off, when Jonathan went to close the freezer.

  “Yeah, no, are you stupid?” Was Jonathan’s response.

  Dane squinted at him and waited for an explanation.

  “We’re coming back in a year; these will be grown by then.”

  “Say, what?”

  “Just the speeding up process didn’t work. They’re still going to grow.” He chimed dully like it was obvious.

  “And you went into temporary coma, why??”

  Jonathan grunted and didn’t answer. In the bottom drawers that Dane didn’t try, there was more food and some seeds. Without a word, he handed Dane a large and heavy bucket, grabbed a few more things to put in his own bag.

  “Are you kidding? Some freakin drama queen. You’re upset because you have to wait a year? For something to born? Because your requirements for success supersede the needs? The formula is working.”

  “Bug off. You don’t understand and I can’t explain.”

  Jonathan then went to the top left drawer where his medication was. Dane saw that and jumped to action.

  “Wait” he said. “Wait.”

  “What?!” Jonathan growled. Dane was going to keep him from more medicine. No. No. Not when everything failed. Jonathan would kill him if he stepped in between him and the medicine right now. Jonathan plunged his hand into the enormous half-full container. Dane grabbed his arm. Jonathan started hyperventilating.

  “Do you see how far you’ve come? Why are you going to go back? Jonathan, stop. What do you really want?”

  “I want a life oblivious to emotions and ignorant of right and wrong! That’s what I want! I don’t want freedom! I don’t want happiness! I want to be left alone!”

  Dane was completely taken aback. He didn’t know what to say to that. Who would blatantly say they didn’t want to be happy?

  “It’s too hard!” Jonathan finished. Frustrated with his own admission. “It’s too hard!”

  Dane thought for a moment and neither of them moved until Jonathan jerked his hand away. Some time passed, Dane filling with patience and empathy. He tried to say it as lovingly as possible,

  “Which ones to you need most?”

  “All of them” he snapped. Dane didn’t give in, “The bi-polar ones? That’s a no brainer. Depression and sleeping pills? So that’s the pink, the grey and the dark purple?”

  Jonathan was afraid that Dane was going to pick them all out, but instead, he moved aside so Jonathan could do it himself.

  “I won’t even watch you… but please, for all of our sakes, make a good choice. If happiness was a possibility, and it is, what do you want instead of self-inflicted rejection? Instead of emotional ignorance? Instead of never making a choice? Come on Jonathan.”

  Sweat was pouring down Jonathan’s face. He grabbed a smaller bottle, shaking so hard that he dropped it once, and then twice. He slammed his fist on the edge of the drawer, which made him bleed. He did mostly as Dane suggested, taking a few of each of the others just in case. Not saying a thing, he twisted the lid shut and left the drawer for Dane to close. Before Dane could read his next action, Jonathan popped some pills and swallowed them. Without a word, he turned to the door.

  He swiftly tapped the little numbers to get them out. Dane hurt for him. And, the pain was so personal, there was nothing Dane could do. Jonathan swore at him. Dane figured he deserved it, so he didn’t fight back. Then Jonathan did it again. Just get it out, Dane thought. After the fourth highly offensive insult, Dane could hardly stand it anymore.

  Up and up they climbed throwing insults back and forth. You’re such a baby. Juvenile. Impatient. Imbecile. Old man. Indecisive. Pity party. Wimp. Chicken dung. Freeze dried chicken noodle soup. Perfectionist.

  When the opening of the cave was visible Dane ran to catch up with Jonathan and stood in front of him, bringing him to a halt. Jonathan let out a sound that was a mix of a growl and a groan. He wanted to get outside and never see Dane again. He wanted to see the sun. Like he was a child who had to go to the bathroom he bounced up and down. Jonathan almost spit in Dane’s face when he finally stopped long enough for Dane to ask him for his watch, flashlight, and phone. No. They took away his pills, he was an emotional wreck, now his dignity was gone. This was below the belt and he wouldn’t have it. He pushed Dane aside. Dane pushed back. That was something Dane had never been; physically confrontational.

  “Will you rob me of everything?!? I possess nothing!” Jonathan screamed. The cave rumbled and rolled the sound of his voice until it was lost in the darkness.

  Jonathan paced, growling and writhing his hands like he was waiting to strangle Dane, trying to calm himself. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t work. If Dane said one thing – one patronizing comment about his attempt to stabilize himself, Jonathan wouldn’t be responsible for what happened to him. With enough control to not choke Dane, at least, he shoved him backward, then, went for a punch in the jaw, but he missed. Unfortunately, Dane didn’t and Jonathan got struck with an uppercut in the throat and lower jaw. ARGH! He was going to lose this fight, too. That thought made him desperate. Pummeling Dane to the ground, Jonathan pressed his forearm with his body weight on Dane’s windpipe. Dane’s right arm was pinned under Jonathan and his left arm flailed for something productive to do. Hardly knowing what happened, Jonathan screamed because of pain in his eye and Dane had the advantage to roll him over to his back and held his arm behind him until he called out in pain.

  “This is NOT your world anymore.” Dane scathed. Jonathan knew what he meant and started hyperventilating against the dirt, breathing it in, getting it in his eyes. Dane relaxed his grip when he felt Jonathan’s tension wane. “You need some medication, I understand that. You don’t need these devices. Not anymore. You need to choose to let go.”

  “Choose. Is this choosing? Is this choosing? Is this freedom?!”

  Dane let go, reluctantly accepting that Jonathan had a fair point. Dane stood, “For the record, it’s not my world either.”

  He was right to expect some comment about the Dane box, or the May box, because Jonathan was conjuring it as he said that. Jonathan had nothing more to say. Shaky hands handed all requests over. Nothing is what he felt. A black abyss. His head down, his shoulders slumped. For once, not looking for pity. He just felt broken. He wished he no longer existed. Dane now had control over everything Jonathan loved and needed. Perhaps it was even entertaining to the man to watch him submit, and to suffer. Regrettably, Jonathan knew that wasn’t true. Dane was pained to watch him. He left Dane there and drug himself to the opening of the cave, holding back his desire to drown himself. Crawling, stumbling, through the slippery water, getting a mouthful of old moss he drooped to the other side. Lay here and die. Just die, you pathetic worm.

  He tried to get up and walk forward.

  The sound of small mechanical things plunging into nasty water penetrated the world of silence. As if his thoughts weighed a million pounds, and as if they were the only truth that had ever existed, he staggered under the weight, catching himself on the trunks of trees, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and fell to the ground. Dane waited a good thirty minutes before trying to take his hand and coax him up and onward.

  Back at their campsite, Dane opened the large bucket to see what was inside. It was a golden color and was lethargic and sticky. It looked like glue. Dane put his finger in it and drew some out to place on his tongue. His world was turned upside down. The stuff tasted so good he didn’t even care if it was glue! For a full day they sat with Jonathan sleeping and Dane eating this fabulous substance. By t
he night-time his stomach was sick.

  Jonathan was awake now, but refused to eat. He rolled over in fetal position, saying nothing. By the morning, Dane’s stomach felt better and Jonathan was standing up with his bag on, ready to go. Dane didn’t question. Now was the time for mercy.

  When they returned, it was night, and they found May on the porch with a knife and the gun, where she had been on watch consistently for the last week. She looked tired from protecting the house from whatever was trying to penetrate. She would never be free from that burden, but she had chosen it. When she saw Dane, she didn’t even stand until he helped her up, wrapping his arms around her.

  “We have a lifetime of work to do.” He said, fully accepting the work at the cave as their obligation “But, I think it will be good.” He held her for a while, then let her go so they could enter the house, asking, “Were you out here the whole time? You look like death.”

  “Yeah, well, the day after you left, Darian came by…”

  “He saw us leaving town.”

  “Yeah, so I think he thought he could come and gain some advantage. First he tried sweet talking, and when that didn’t work, he pushed his way into the house and went straight for the chest with the books and clothing. He pulled out the clothing, even took some of it. I didn’t want to use the gun. I sent Janey to get Samson and while Samson was coming, I kicked him in the face and we fought for a little bit. … I don’t even care that he takes the stuff, really, not anymore. I mostly hate his intrusion.” She said defiantly, still flipping the knife fluidly in her fingers. “Oh, and someone heard our little marriage conversation with Jonathan and people have been asking me about it, kind of accusingly. I just don’t know what to do with all this information.”

  They continued their conversation inside, following Jonathan in.