Life in a Fishbowl

by Len Vlahos

“Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, Mom, that’s okay. Besides, you can always watch it on TV tonight.”

  Deirdre was still smiling at the joke as Jackie left the room with her computer tucked under her arm.

  Ethan was sitting alone in the living room. When he saw Jackie, he clapped, very slowly. “Smart kid,” he said, “but you have no idea how much trouble you’re causing.” This, more than anything else, made Jackie smile. “Give me the phone.”

  Jackie expected Ethan to ask for the phone and knew it was pointless to fight. She took the iPhone out of her pocket and tossed it across the room. “The computer, too.”

  “What?”

  “The computer, Jackie.” The edge in Ethan’s voice was frightening. “We’ve decided you need to engage more with your surroundings. Burying your nose in your computer screen all day isn’t very good television, now, is it?”

  Jackie just stood there. Ethan shook his head, got up, crossed the room, and took the laptop out of Jackie’s hands. She didn’t put up a fight. Ethan went back to the couch.

  “You told people not to watch the show.”

  “I did,” Jackie said.

  “I’m not sure I care, but curiosity is getting the best of me. Why?”

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t think there is any way I can make you understand.”

  Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Your wings are clipped. You’re going to get in line and do what we say, starting tonight. You’re going to tell America that you were just lashing out because you’re sad about your father’s illness.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re not what?”

  “I’m not going to tell America that I was just sad because of my dad’s illness. I’m going to continue to tell them, every chance I get, what a big phony you and this television show are.”

  “Don’t be so sure, Jackie. I’ve handled some of the toughest people in show business. I think I can handle a fifteen-year-old girl.”

  It was this moment of arrogance, of naked hubris, that gave Jackie all the confidence she needed.

  Later that afternoon when Andersona tried to interview her about how wrong she’d been to post the new episode of The Real Family Stone of Portland, Oregon, Jackie answered every one of the questions with a stream of curse words.

  ANDERSONA: It must be hard on you, having to watch your father go through this.

  JACKIE: Fuck, shit, piss.

  ANDERSONA: The YouTube show was all about you lashing out, wasn’t it?

  JACKIE: Cock, tits, bitch.

  This went on for a full five minutes. When Andersona was done asking the questions she had come to ask, which she read from a prepared script, she left the room without saying a word.

  Jackie stayed in the chair and laughed, at first. Eventually emotion overwhelmed her and the laughter turned to tears. She sat there until she was done crying, and then retreated to her room to read a book.

  ***

  The episode of Life and Death that aired that night was made especially for Jackie.

  The opening scene was Jackie’s plea, from The Real Family Stone of Portland, Oregon, for people not to watch the show. It dissolved to Jackie listening to Andersona’s question: “The YouTube show was all about you lashing out, wasn’t it?”

  The camera shifted to a view over Jackie’s shoulder, showing a concerned Andersona. Jackie’s voice-over, plucked and cleaned up from her conversation with Ethan, was made to seem like an answer to Andersona’s question: “I was just sad because of my dad’s illness. I was a big phony.” Only the most seasoned editor could have spotted the fakery.

  “How does that make you feel?” Andersona asked. The editors cut to Jackie cursing, with all the swear words bleeped out. Then back to Andersona to ask the question again. This time the camera cut to Jackie, sitting in the interview chair, weeping.

  The credits rolled.

  After the commercial break, Ethan, who was furious that Megan hadn’t alerted him that Jackie had somehow recovered a phone, had a small message for her, too. They showed the entire sequence of Megan following Jackie, and even included a bastardized version of her conversation with Ethan in the limousine. In the version that aired, Megan approached Ethan and offered to spy on Jackie if the producers would feature her, Megan, more prominently in the show. Ethan, in a set piece recorded after the fact, refused.

  The actions of the two Stone girls were stitched together to show a family splitting apart over the stress of their dying father. Jackie and Megan were shown to be conniving but pitiable characters, with Ethan and Andersona each playing the part of compassionate benefactor.

  It was both a high and low watermark for the power and pull of the medium.

  ***

  Jared watched the episode with his wife and daughters like he always did, but none of it was making sense. He knew that something bad was happening between his family and the producers of the show, he just didn’t understand what. And worse, he didn’t seem to care. All Jared wanted to do was sleep. Even the pain in his head seemed like it should be someone else’s problem.

  He found himself wondering about the strangest things. Like what was a nun doing in his house? Was this even his house? The frequent visits from Deirdre, Jackie, and Megan suggested it was, but maybe the television network had built a replica of his house for the show. Maybe they were all in Los Angeles. That was a horrible thought. He didn’t want to die in L A.

  Jared was increasingly aware that he was dying, and he knew that it would be sooner rather than later. He knew he should be putting things in order, or at least that’s the phrase that kept rolling around his brain. (Intrepid snorting thug.) Though what things and what order were a mystery.

  He’d had three more instances of blurred or lost vision, and the same had happened with his hearing, inexplicably failing and then returning to normal.

  Jared Stone was checking out, and he knew it. He had only one foot in this world; the other was already probing for the next, whatever and wherever that might be.

  As he maneuvered through the remnants of his faculties, he made a decision. It was the last lucid thing on his mind, and he needed to tell someone before it was gone. He summoned Deirdre.

  “D,” he told her when she arrived by his side, “come closer.”

  “I’m here, Jare,” she answered, putting her ear next to his mouth.

  “I want to end this,” he whispered. She didn’t respond, and Jared closed his eyes. She was about to go when he added, “Please, help me.”

  With that, Jared rolled over and went to sleep. Deirdre kissed his head and said, “Of course, my love. Of course.”

  ***

  When Max watched the latest episode of Life and Death, he knew immediately what had happened. His video-editing skills were growing at an exponential rate, and it wasn’t hard for him to spot the handiwork of the ATN team.

  “Pizdet!” he barked. He was watching Ethan Overbee’s evisceration of Jackie on the ATN website after school the following day. A cold wet rain that smelled of winter was pelting his window.

  More than anything, Max wanted to talk to Jackie, to tell her that he knew what the editors had done to her, that together they could make people know it was all lies. But afternoon in Western Russia is the middle of the night in Oregon, and Jackie was not online. Max needed to talk to someone, to do something now.

  After the meetings in Azeroth, Max and Hazel had become Facebook friends. Knowing that it was already six thirty in the morning in Alabama, he sent her a message.

  Max

  Hazel, do you see the television show yesterday? Do not believe this is true! They use editing tricks to make Jackie look bad. We must do something. Meet me by palace.

  Five minutes later, he was standing outside the guild headquarters in Azeroth.

  Hazel

  Hi, Max.

  Max

  Oh good! You are here. Did y
ou see this new episode?

  Hazel

  I did, and I didn’t believe it. Jackie told me how heavily they edit the show to create story lines that don’t really exist. It’s sick, but I don’t know what to do.

  Max

  I am worried about our friend.

  Hazel

  Me too, Max. But maybe they’re just too big and powerful for us.

  Max

  Nyet! This is not true of American colonists, this is not true of Russian Bolsheviks, and I do not believe is true of Jackie Stone. She is not girl to give up. She beat them step by step. We have Russian saying: “Ispodvol’ i ol’khu sognyosh.” Anyone can bend alder tree, if they do it little at a time.

  Both he and Hazel were silent for a minute.

  Hazel

  Okay. Let’s think about the problem. We know they’re manipulating their own footage to box Jackie in.

  Max

  What means box in?

  Hazel

  Sorry. They are making it very hard for Jackie to react or take any action against them. They are cutting off her options.

  Max

  Yes.

  Hazel

  We know they took her phone, twice. They’ll probably take her computer, too.

  Max

  Yes, I think this also.

  Hazel

  So Jackie probably can’t get us footage, at least not until we figure out how to get a camera into her house.

  Max

  Yes.

  Hazel

  So what we need is another way to make an episode.

  At that instant, a lightbulb went on over Max’s head. Literally. His mother had entered the room and turned on the overhead light to combat the grayness of the day beyond the window.

  “Maxi, I wish you wouldn’t spend so much time in front of that computer,” she said before moving on down the hall.

  He barely heard her. The literal lightbulb had, in fact, been accompanied by a figurative one.

  Max

  I have idea. And I will be needing your help.

  ***

  When Jackie got to school the next morning, her heart fell into her stomach.

  Three large ATN trucks dominated the teachers’ parking lot. Students gawked at them like they were looking at Taylor Swift’s tour bus. Jackie knew what was going on even before the principal—a balding man with a rumpled suit, mismatched socks, and an old ketchup stain on his tie—pounced on her at the front door.

  “Good morning, Miss Stone!” he offered with too much enthusiasm. “Isn’t it wonderful? Your television show has come to our school!”

  Jackie clenched her jaw. “This can’t be real. Don’t you have to get parents’ permission or something?”

  “Apparently the ATN legal department worked on that all night, and we’re good to go. The few students who didn’t want to participate are attending another high school until this is all over.”

  Jackie locked eyes with the principal, the scowl on her face making him realize the horror of what he had just said. He put a hand to his mouth the way a bad actor feigns surprise and regret.

  Jackie rolled her eyes and tried to brush past him. The only thing she wanted was to go to her locker.

  “But you don’t understand,” he said, blocking her way and trying to regain his footing in the conversation. He looked up at the ATN camera suspended from the ceiling like he was starring in a soap opera. “The network is going to build us a new gymnasium, and we have you to thank!” He stood in front of Jackie holding his arm up, palm facing her.

  Does he actually want a high five? she thought. Lame! This time she squirmed past with force and ran inside.

  Everywhere Jackie turned, she saw cameras, and everywhere she turned, students were staring at her. A gaggle of the school’s most popular girls had formed a semicircle around her locker.

  “Hi, Jackie,” one of the girls said. They all wore the same basic outfit, the same hairstyle, the same makeup, and had the same affected speech; Jackie had trouble telling them apart and wasn’t really sure which one was talking. “Isn’t this exciting? Now we know how special you must feel every day!”

  “Why, is your father dying, too?” Jackie couldn’t help herself. She knew the smartest course of action was to keep her head down and her mouth shut, but this was too much. Ethan was pulling out all the stops, and it was getting to her.

  Before the stunned popular girl could think of a response, a high-pitched whine originating from deep inside someone’s sinus cavity was saying, “Let me through; let me through!” An instant later, Jason Sanderson pushed his way into the center of the crowd.

  “Hi, girls,” he said, grinning like the village idiot.

  “Go away, geek,” the same popular girl said.

  “Congratulations, Brie,” Jackie answered, having sorted out which queen bee was which, “you were just a primo bitch on television’s most popular show.” Jackie pointed at the camera aimed directly at her locker.

  Brie’s cheeks turned the same color as her cherry lip gloss, and she stormed away. The gaggle followed her.

  “Thanks, Jason,” Jackie said. “It’s really good to see you.”

  Jason blushed, shook his head, and got right to his point. “Did you see it yet?” Jason asked.

  “See what?”

  “Oh, boy!” he said. “Come with me!”

  Jason led Jackie to the computer lab.

  “Hi, Miss Onorati,” Jason said.

  “Mr. Sanderson, Miss Stone,” the teacher answered, unable to stop from grinning.

  “Jason,” Jackie whispered, pulling his arm, “we’re not supposed to be here. I have history now. So do you!”

  “It’s all right, Miss Stone,” Ms. Onorati interrupted. “I spoke to Mr. Egloff a few minutes ago, and he understands that you might need to miss history this morning.”

  Jackie looked from Jason to their teacher. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on,” Ms. Onorati offered, “is that the young squire here has a small bit of treasure to impart to Gerald the Generous.”

  “What?” Jackie looked closely at her teacher. She was a pretty woman but didn’t seem to know it. Long but stylishly unkempt brown hair with a touch of gray; bright, hazel eyes made large by a pair of round glasses too big for her vertically orientated face, its long nose holding court over a wide and smiling mouth. She looked like a short, disheveled version of Angelina Jolie.

  “Surprised?” Ms. Onorati asked.

  Jackie was too surprised to speak. She nodded.

  “Jackie, I’m a forty-one-year-old, unattached computer science teacher. Do the math.”

  “Her name in Warcraft is Onan the Arbarian,” Jason snorted. “Isn’t that great?”

  “Were you at the guild meetings?” Jackie asked.

  “No, but when you’ve been in the game as long as I have, word travels fast. I’m here to help you in any way I can.”

  “But what about them?” Jackie asked, pointing to the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

  “What about them?” Ms. Onorati said. “Let them watch. I think they’ll want to see what Jason has to show you, too.”

  “I’ll show you on my computer,” Jason said with just a bit too much volume. Jackie realized that everything that had happened to her—was happening to her—was actually a good thing for Jason. It was helping him belong, giving him a purpose. It wasn’t much of a silver lining, but it was something; Jackie tried her best to hold on to it.

  Jackie sat at the computer station with both Jason and Ms. Onorati standing behind her. On the screen, Jason clicked a link to YouTube, and there in the middle of the screen was The Real Family Stone of Portland, Oregon: Episode IV, A New Hope.

  Jackie knew the title was in homage to the original Star Wars. What she didn’t know was how a new episode of The Real Family Stone of Portland, Oregon could even exist.

  “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  “Just watch,” Ms. Onorati said, putting a gentle hand on Jackie’s sho
ulder.

  On the screen, the video started. It was footage Jackie had shot more than a week ago, for the second episode. It was a thirty-four-second clip of the Jo Garvin interview, the scene where Jo goes from crying to winking at Andersona’s “Honey, you’re going to win an Emmy” remark. The image freezes on Jo’s wink and fades to black as a voice-over begins.

  “This is unedited footage; it’s what actually happened.” Jackie didn’t recognize the voice, but the lilting Southern drawl gave her a good guess as to who it was.

  “It has not been manipulated in any way,” the voice continued. “It’s footage that came directly from Jackie Stone’s now confiscated iPhone. Our showing this to you is not meant to influence your opinion of Jo Garvin. We only want you to see the truth.

  “If we had wanted you to like Jo Garvin, we might have shown you this.”

  A scene, back in the interview room, fades in. The footage is of Andersona interviewing someone. Jackie remembered capturing the footage her very first day of recording and knew that the shoulder the camera was looking over belonged to her mother. The shot is framed so that only the smallest wisp of Deirdre’s hair is visible. Out of context, it’s impossible to tell who is being interviewed.

  “Tell me, what has this done to your career?” Andersona asked.

  There is a seamless cut back to Jo Garvin, whose tears are already starting to fall. The unmistakable impression is that Jo Garvin is devastated that her career as a television character actor is over.

  Max’s edits were so good that even Jackie did a double take, feeling, for a moment, sorry for Jo.

  “Do you see?” the voice continued. “Do you see how easy it is to fool you? But it’s not you who should feel foolish; it’s them.” The voice said “them” with all the bile it could muster.

  “And that brings us to the point of tonight’s episode of The Real Family Stone of Portland, Oregon. Jackie Stone never apologized; she never acquiesced. Everything you saw last night on Life and Death was a lie. You, America … no, not just America. You, world,” the voice grew in timbre and pitch, “have been duped.