by Carol Snow
“Hello, there!”
“Um, hi. Is Taser home?”
Taser’s mother turned toward the house. “Taser? Are you here?” After a beat, still smiling, she turned back to Freesia.
“Sorry, but Taser is not home.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Sorry, but Taser is not home.”
“I know, but … did he go off to play zap wars? Or could he be out in his skiff?”
“Hello, there! Sorry, but Taser is not home.” She took a step back into the house. “Taser? Are you here?” Then she turned back to Freesia. “Thanks for stopping by! Sorry, but Taser is not home.”
She shut the door.
Freesia began to shake. Now what was she supposed to do? She climbed back into her itty car and pulled out her bubble.
“Friendlies check.”
A long list of names popped up. RICKY LEISURE, she tapped.
Clad in a plush bathrobe, Ricky lounged in a swivel chair in the vast marble salon room that lay off his even vaster marble bathroom while Nikita, his hair serf, trimmed the edges of his streaky blond hair.
“Don’t let her cut too much off!” Freesia called into her bubble, forcing herself to sound jolly.
Ricky’s blue eyes widened with pleasure. “I told Nikita one-thirty-second of an inch. That too much?”
“That should be good.”
“Come over later,” Ricky said. “And let my stylists prepare you for the dance.”
“Okay, but I don’t want to wait that long to see you. Meet me under the rainbow?”
“Where?”
“On the side near your house—the third bench, just below where the purple bleeds into the blue.”
The sun had just fallen low enough in the sky to turn everything golden; that meant Freesia had about a half an hour until the rainbow. She headed for the Dressy Dress Shoppe. So what if the Sweet Seventeen dance was imaginary? She still needed something to wear.
13
Ricky was waiting on the bench. He’d changed into flowered board shorts and a crisp white T-shirt that showed off his tan. His hair, of course, was perfect. For a flash, Freesia wondered what Ricky looked like beyond Agalinas, but she pushed the thought out of her mind.
“You’re early, Ricardo! The rain hasn’t even started yet.”
Over the harbor, puffy gray clouds cast gentle shadows on the boats below.
“I didn’t want to miss any of it.” He patted the bench next to him, and Freesia sat down. Together they watched as the shadows below the clouds sprouted blue-gray streaks of rain. Around them, the air grew cooler and the salt smells gave way to something green and just slightly metallic.
As the clouds drifted toward the island, the ocean foamed near the shore, setting loose a flurry of soap bubbles that floated up and around them. And then the rain began: soft, gentle droplets tickling their faces and dusting their hair. Next, the sun shot rays through the clouds and the colors began to appear: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—faintly at first but quickly gaining saturation and length until a full rainbow stretched above their heads along the entire length of the town of Avalon. Everyone stopped what they were doing to marvel.
And then, just like that, the rainbow faded and disappeared, and the last of the gray clouds drifted over the mountain.
Ricky stood up and stretched. “Nikita is waiting for you. She’s even got fresh flowers for your hair.”
“Oh, Ricky, you’re so…”
“What?”
“Just—I’m so glad we’re friendlies.”
In Ricky’s salon room, Nikita waited with two bouquets of every imaginable kind of flower. Freesia chose a dusty pink rosebud to match the dress she had just bought for the second time. Nikita brushed and curled and sprayed her locks until they tumbled and swam over her shoulders, then she pulled and twisted two front pieces away from her face and knotted the flower between them.
“I can summon a cosmetics serf, if you’d like,” Ricky said when Nikita had finished her work.
The offer tempted Freesia—she would have loved a set of butterfly eyelashes, as well as some glitter for her cheeks—but she needed to talk to someone about what had happened, and since Jelissa did not want to be that someone, Ricky was next on her list.
“Later, perhaps,” she said. “For now let’s go up to your rooftop and watch the sky turn pink.”
They reached the roof deck just in time to watch the coral sun cast a path on the water. Soon the deep blue sky faded to periwinkle, then lavender, and then a pink so bright it made her shiver.
“I never get tired of this view.” As she spoke, Freesia realized that it wasn’t true. In fact, she barely ever paused long enough to watch the sky turn pink. Why bother? There would always be another opportunity tomorrow and the tomorrow after that.
Ricky wore a beautiful smile of contentment. She didn’t want to ruin the moment for him and yet …
“Do you ever wonder if Agalinas is too good to be true?” she blurted.
He kept his eyes on the glowing sun. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters!”
“Why?” Ricky turned his face toward her. The sun made him glow like an angel.
“Because … because…”
Ricky was playing with her. Teasing her. Because he didn’t know what she knew.
“Ricky, what I’m about to tell you is—” She stopped. Considered her words. “This may sound hard to believe—” She paused. “I don’t want to upset you.…”
Ricky pointed at the horizon. “I love it when the sun just touches the water. It’s like it’s face-linking with the universe.”
The orange sun was halfway into the ocean now. Everything around them—the sea, the sand, the roads and houses—glowed apricot. They stood in silence until the sun slipped into the ocean.
Ricky took her hand. “I need to show you something.”
They went into the house and down a hallway to Ricky’s room (skylights, mirrors, tropical fish tank), through his walk-in closet (two walls of board shorts, a hundred T-shirts, countless flip-flops, one tie), beyond an herb-scented hot tub, past a salty-snack pantry, and down another long hallway. At a closed door, they stopped.
He turned the knob, followed her into the room, and shut the door behind him.
“I’ve never taken anyone else here.”
The room was small and plain, with nothing but a puffy black couch, a simple wood desk, and a giant dark screen on one wall.
“Movie room?” Freesia guessed.
“It can be. But it’s more than that. A lot more. Sit.”
Freesia settled onto the couch.
Ricky said, “Up on the roof—were you trying to tell me that Agalinas is a virtual world?”
She gasped. “So you already know?”
“I’ve known since the beginning. The memory blockers don’t work on me for some reason. That’s why I’ve got all this—the giant house, the waterslides. The parties. Because my father thinks I will make a fuss if he doesn’t give me everything I ask for. He’s afraid I will want to leave.”
“But how can you stand it, knowing none of this is real?”
He shrugged. “Who’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? We’re really talking to each other. Up on the roof, we really experienced the beauty of the sunset.”
Ricky took something hard and flat off the desk and sat down beside her.
“Is that a bubble?” Freesia asked.
“A keyboard.” He rested the rectangle on his lap and passed his hand over the surface until lettered buttons appeared. He nodded toward the screen on the wall. “That’s a virtual computer monitor—a bubble to beat all bubbles. My link to the outside world.” Ricky tapped the keyboard, and the screen on the wall lit up: gray, then blue, then …
“Oh my Todd—is that my mother?” Mother’s picture smiled from the top left corner of the screen, next to the words Flash Drive.
“This is your mother’s vlog site,” Ricky said. “She has
a new entry up. Let’s watch.”
A white arrow crossed the screen until it reached a triangle in the middle of a black box. With a click, the black box sprang to life. Mother’s voice sounded hollow. Freesia recognized the clunky brown desk, the plain white walls.
“Today I had the pleasure of visiting with my sixteen-year-old daughter F. while some updates were performed to improve the Bubble World experience. For those of you who haven’t watched my previous posts, F. is an honors student in Bubble World, the Web’s first fully interactive virtual education program.
“Normally we spend my daughter’s visits home enjoying family dinners, playing board games, and just talking. But today we took her to our local shopping mall. F. was astonished by how unrefined, unsophisticated, and monolingual the teenagers were.”
“I didn’t say the teenagers were unrefined!” Freesia burst out. “I just said they were ugly. And what does she mean by mono … mono…”
“Some of my viewers have questioned my husband’s and my decision to enroll our daughter in an untested program. However, as I’ve long maintained, somebody has to be the pioneer. Today, at the end of our visit, my husband and I asked F., as we have many times before, if she would like to discontinue as a Bubble World pioneer and reenter the public school system. And her answer, as always, was a resounding no.”
“That’s true,” Freesia said.
“Our daughter is happy in Bubble World.”
“True,” Freesia whispered.
“She has friends there.”
“Also true.”
“But most of all, she is proud to be a pioneer paving the way for others in this innovative educational community.”
The box within the screen went dark.
Freesia didn’t say anything for a while. Ricky took her hand.
“What was that?” she asked at last.
“The Internet. It’s got everything you want to know, anytime you want to know it. Celebrity gossip, world news, weather, fashion … funny cat videos.”
At that, Yow woke up and climbed to the top of Freesia’s purse, which sat on the couch next to her.
“Yow!”
“I love virtual cats.” Ricky reached over and picked up Yow. He cradled the cat in his arm and stroked its soft belly. “I’m allergic to real ones.”
Freesia buried her face in her hands. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”
“Don’t be sad!” Ricky balanced the cat on one arm. With the other hand, he tapped at the keyboard.
On the giant screen, another video appeared. An orange kitten snuck up on a giant sleeping dog, slapped its nose, and ran away.
“That one wasn’t very good,” Ricky said. He tapped the keyboard some more and came up with another mini cat movie, called “Cat Tarzan.” It involved kittens and window-shade blinds, and it made Freesia smile. A little.
“That’s how people in the so-called real world entertain themselves,” Ricky said. “By tapping keyboards and watching stuff on screens. Here in Bubble World, we don’t just watch entertainment, we live it. It’s much fizzier.”
“So that’s why our parents put us here? So we could have a tizzy time?”
“Of course not. They put us here so they wouldn’t have to deal with us. But they also think we’re getting this wicked education. Check out the Bubble World website.”
A few more keyboard taps, and the screen gave way to an aerial shot of Agalinas, with words drifting down the screen:
There is a place
Where your child can grow and learn and be happy.
Where she or he can become fluent in multiple languages,
Build friendships and develop social skills to last a lifetime,
Master high math concepts and sophisticated writing conventions,
Devour world history, the sciences, literature, and more,
Explore art, music, dance, theater, and athletics …
All in the comfort and safety of your own home.
That place is called …
Bubble World.
Click here for testimonials.
Ricky moved the arrow on the screen to the here, and just like that, the screen gave way to a shot of …
“Is that me?” Freesia asked.
“Sort of.”
A girl appeared on the screen. She looked just like Freesia—except that she wore a formless yellow polo shirt that Freesia wouldn’t be caught dead in.
“I can’t thank my parents enough for allowing me to engage in an interactive Bubble World experience. Before I came here, I struggled with academics and had trouble forming and maintaining interpersonal ties. Now I excel in my schoolwork, I have countless study partners, and I am fluent in five languages and proficient in two musical instruments.”
“What did I just say?” Freesia asked Ricky.
“That you spend all your time studying.”
For the first time all day, Freesia laughed. “But how do they make it look like I’m spouting such silliness?”
“Everything in Agalinas, including your voice and appearance, is computer generated,” Ricky reminded her. “A Bubble World Enterprises programmer can make your avatar say or do utterly anything.”
Freesia shuddered.
“Here’s my testimonial.” Ricky tapped the keyboard, and there he was, running up the steep hill that led to the interior, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He slowed his pace and faced the camera. “My favorite thing about Bubble World is all the opportunities it provides for physical fitness. Before coming here, I struggled with my weight. Now I enjoy running, biking, kayaking, and ocean swimming. Whatever my mood, there’s an activity to meet it!” He held up his hand to wave and sprinted up the hill.
“I thought that would make you twinkle,” Ricky said.
Freesia said, “My father told me that some of the people on Agalinas … aren’t people. I think Dare might be make-believe.”
“Oh, no—Dare is real. His real name is David, and he’s from Pennsylvania. He’s got this rare disease that makes his skin so sensitive that it can’t be exposed to sunlight. Bubble World is his only chance to have a normal life.”
He put Yow on the couch and reached down to a pull-out fridge under the couch. “Cheesecake?”
“No, thank you. Um … you know that’s really a nutrition bar.”
Ricky shrugged. “It looks like cheesecake. It smells like cheesecake. I say it’s cheesecake.”
He took a big bite and closed his eyes. Once he swallowed, he opened his eyes and said, “That’s what you need to understand. It doesn’t matter what’s computer generated and what isn’t. Agalinas is real because it feels real. Oh! This will make you twinkle. Chai’s virtual.”
“She is?”
“Nobody could be that noxious. But according to the psychologists who advised Todd Piloski, all teenage girls need someone to abhor. But he couldn’t have students shunning a paying customer—it would be bad for business. Chai’s an easy target. Plus, she was Bitsy’s Insta-friend.”
“Her what?”
Ricky ate some more cheesecake before answering. “Bitsy had trouble making friends. So her parents paid Todd Piloski to make one for her.”
Freesia felt dizzy. “Who else is make-believe?”
“None of our better friendlies,” Ricky said.
“Where is Pennsylvania?”
Ricky tapped at his keyboard some more and brought up a map of the United States. He moved the arrow over to the right side. “That’s Pennsylvania.” He moved the arrow to the lower left. “Your bubblepod is here—in Phoenix, Arizona.”
“Where’s your bubblepod?” she asked.
He moved the arrow way over to the left, where the land met water. “Newport Beach, California. Number five Sunset Drive. My real name is Richard Levine.”
“My real name is Francine Somers.”
“I know.”
“How do you know all of this?” Freesia asked.
He smiled. “In addition to the house, the boats, the cars�
�everything—I convinced my father to give me a next-generation bubble. When you were in class, I was writing code, hacking into the Bubble World’s mainframe, reading Todd Piloski’s e-mails, building this keyboard, this screen, this room.…”
Freesia bit her lip. “I don’t understand much of what you just said, but it sounds bad.”
“Oh, no. It is just something to pass the time when the rest of you are in class. But our true world—Agalinas—is far more interesting than anything we can find online.” He clicked a few more times, and the giant screen went dark.
“Does anyone else know the truth?” Freesia asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Taser knows something is off. He took me to this cave—”
Ricky gasped. “Down the coast? Past the wild waters?”
“You’ve been there?”
“I’ve … heard of it. Don’t go there again, Freesia. It’s not safe. And if you see Taser again, remember: you can’t talk about the so-called real world. Not a peep. You never know when they’re watching you.”
Freesia’s skin prickled. “Can they see us now?”
“Not in this room. I was careful to hide the code.”
“But…” Freesia’s head hurt from thinking so much. “Don’t they notice when you disappear?”
He shrugged. “They can’t follow all of us at once. The program is overloaded as it is. That’s part of the reason it keeps crashing. They watch Front Street, the learning center sometimes. Otherwise, they just follow people if something seems wiggy.”
“So I can’t let them think anything is wiggy.”
“Exactly.”
“But what could they do to me?”
“They could close down your account. Make you disappear.”
“Poof.” Freesia’s voice cracked.
“You just need to put all of this out of your mind. Let’s not talk about it again. Remember: Agalinas is real because it feels real.”
Freesia scooped Yow back into her handbag, and they left the secret screen room behind. Stepping out onto the roof deck was a relief. The glimpse of reality, such as it was, had been stressful.
Above them, a blue moon had begun to rise in the sky. Below them, on Front Street, a crowd had gathered—surprising, since everyone should have been home getting ready for the dance right around then.
