2043 A.D.

by Edward M Wolfe

  The bus slowed and Michelle stood up and started to grab for the overhead rail to steady herself as it came to a stop, but her top rose along with her arm so she quickly brought her arm back down and tried to tug her top down to the least embarrassing position.

  She mentally cursed herself and Jenny for the hundredth time. How could Jenny go places dressed like this on a regular basis? The bus stopped and now Michelle thought of how she was a magnet for the attention of every hetero man around, and she was almost afraid to get off the bus. But her neighborhood was much safer than where she’d already been, and she reminded herself that violent crime statistics were at their lowest point ever. She took a deep breath and stepped into the aisle, telling herself that the pervert who wanted her to sit next to him was going to be undressing her with his eyes as she passed him, but it was a million times better than doing it with his hands.

  She made it to the front of the bus and saw that the door wasn’t open yet. Now what!? The driver always opened the door as soon as the bus came to a stop. She was standing and looking at the closed door, three steps down from where she stood. She expected it to open right now. It didn’t. She turned around and looked at the bus driver. He raised his eyes from where they had been looking at her too short shorts and spoke to her.

  “Um, pardon me for saying so, miss, but you might not be safe walking around at night dressed like that.” His eyes flicked from hers to her chest and back. He licked his lips.

  “Can I just go, please?” Michelle nearly whined. She wanted this night to be over. She wanted to be off of this bus and in her house and wearing clothes that covered her entire body.

  “Do you need me to walk you somewhere?”

  “Don’t you need to stay with the bus? Please just open the door.”

  He reached for the handle that opened the door without taking his eyes off her chest, and then as she turned at the sound of the door opening, he dropped them again to her shorts. She quickly descended the steps and started running when she hit the street.

  “Have a good night!” the bus driver said after her, and watched her run past the front of the bus as she crossed the street.

  Michelle heard the airbrake release behind her and was grateful to finally be off the bus and close to home. There was much less traffic here than where she started. This street intersected with her own just a few blocks up. She was thirsty, but there was no way she would stop in the convenience store at the corner of her street with the clothes she had on. She could easily wait until she reached her house a mere block from the store.

  She held the newspaper in front of her chest while she half-jogged down the sidewalk. As she cut the corner to her street, she came close to the front of the convenience store, drawing the attention of the cashier and another man who was apparently just hanging out with him. They both stopped talking and watched her pass. The man on the customer side of the counter stepped outside to watch her round the corner of the store. He wolf whistled as he watched her run diagonally across the street and then continue down the sidewalk.

  Finally, she was almost home. Safety, sanctuary and sanity. Only thirty yards away. Oh great. A man came walking from her front yard out onto the sidewalk, heading right toward her. He stared at her like a sex fiend as he approached but she wasn’t afraid of him, being just yards from her house. They passed by each other without incident and she was glad to be on the other side of him, but she could still feel his eyes on her.

  She reached her house with the big willow tree in the front, intending to go inside and never come back out again.

  Twenty-one

  Charlie was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Model-T Ford that was on top of a parade float. Deron was sitting next to him and they were both waving at the people who dotted the sidewalks on each side of the street. Not much of a turn-out, Charlie thought. Theirs was the only float. It was pretty pathetic as far as parades went. He was waving like a prom queen to the few people on the right side of the street and turned his head to the people on the left and he could swear that there were fewer people now than there were just seconds ago. He looked back to the right and saw that one of the three people he had just waved to over there was now gone.

  He jerked his head back to the left and now the sidewalk on that side was empty. He looked back to the right and the two remaining people were still there, but he felt that something else was missing. He tried to think of what it was, but all he could think of was that the people on the sidewalks were disappearing. He wanted to ask Deron if he had noticed it too and he realized that’s what was missing. Deron was no longer sitting in the passenger seat. He too had vanished.

  Fear squeezed his heart and he shouted, “No!” and woke up on Kathleen’s living room couch. He looked around, wondering where he was for a moment, and then it came back to him. He had been looking for Deron and decided to lie down and wait a while to see if he would show up. It didn’t appear that anyone had come home while he’d been napping, but he got up to walk around and make sure. Maybe someone had come home and just didn’t want to wake him.

  A quick tour of the house confirmed that it was as empty as it sounded. Charlie would’ve ordinarily looked at his communicator to get the time, but made an exception and called out to the house unit, “Time?”

  The unit responded, “Seven forty seven, pee em.”

  “Damn it.” Charlie started toward the front door, then stopped, went back to Deron’s room and looked once again at the address Deron had written on the unsent letter to Michelle, committing it to memory. That’s the only place he knew to look, so he was going to go there with the hope of finding him. If Deron wasn’t there, Charlie would be more certain than ever that something bad had happened. For now though, he was holding on to hope that once he got to Michelle’s everything would turn out to be okay.

  When he went outside, Kathleen’s car pulled into the driveway. Charlie was disappointed to see that the passenger seat was empty. Kathleen got out of the car and crossed the driveway, surprised to see Charlie was at her house.

  “Dad. What are you doing here?” She pressed a button on her car fob and the garage door rose silently.

  “I came over to see if Deron had come home, but he’s not here. And he’s not with you either, so I’m going to go look for him.”

  “You won’t find him.” The headlights of her car flashed and she moved out of the way, allowing it to move forward into the garage.

  “Just what is that supposed to mean?

  “Come inside. I’ll explain.” After the car parked itself the garage door beeped a warning as it closed.

  She’d explain? Charlie really didn’t like the sound of that. Deron was somewhere, and Kathleen knew where that was, and yet she hadn’t known earlier on the phone. Or, she had lied to him. He took a deep breath and followed his daughter into the house.

  “I need to finish making dinner. Are you hungry, Dad?”

  “I don’t know. Where is Deron?”

  “Just a minute. Let me get us some coffee, then we’ll talk.”

  Charlie refrained from saying anything. As usual, Kathleen was engaging in her uncanny ability to drive him crazy. His fingernails tapped a staccato rhythm on the marble table top. After what seemed like a long time, Kathleen came to the table carrying two cups of coffee.

  “It’s instant, but it’s all I have.”

  “Thank you,” he said, looking at her sternly. He didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark about Deron’s whereabouts, even if it was only for a few minutes. “Now will you tell me where my grandson is, or would it be quicker if I searched the city for him?”

  Kathleen told herself to be patient with her father. He had a short temper on top of everything else he had working against him.

  “Deron is in a special program that is going to help him with his problems. He just started it today, and he’ll be there for at least a few months.”

  “What do you mean a special program, and his problems?” Charlie was ready to blow his top a
lready and she’d just barely started explaining what was going on.

  “I know you’re not going to like this, but it’s a government program. But it’s not anything to get upset about. It’s entirely for his benefit.”

  “You have got to be kidding me. You enlisted my grandson in a government program? To do what, exactly?”

  Kathleen didn’t want to tell Charlie what she had been told by Eric. She needed to lighten it up a little so Charlie wouldn’t go ballistic.

  “It’s to help him with his social skills,” she said, feeling like she wasn’t even lying really.

  “Deron doesn’t have a problem with his social skills. He’s one of the most capable youngsters I’ve ever known!”

  “Now, Dad, you know that Deron doesn’t socialize very much. He never spends any time with kids his own age.”

  “By choice, Kathleen! He chooses who he wants to spend time with. That isn’t a problem. Have you spent five minutes talking to the average teenager lately? Not that you’d notice anything wrong with them, but Deron is a little more discriminating in his tastes. Kids today are mindless fools. If Deron wants nothing to do with them, that isn’t a problem!”

  “Dad, calm down. Deron was given an opportunity to be part of a special program, and he is the one who chose to do it. So if you want to be mad at someone, you can just save it for him.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. Did Deron tell you he wanted to do this of his own free will, with no coercion or threats?”

  “He didn’t tell me himself, no, but he—.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Charlie growled, getting up from the table and leaving without another word.

  Twenty-two

  For the second time that day, Deron awoke in a strange bed without knowing how he’d gotten there. But this time, the room wasn’t as nice and there wasn’t a pretty nurse-like woman attending to him. He tried to move and found that his arms were restrained.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  He looked around and saw that there wasn’t much to see. Lime green walls and a toilet right out in the open. No bathroom this time and no closet and no nightstand next to the bed with a pitcher of water.

  “Can anybody here me!?”

  “I can hear you just fine. There’s no need to yell,” a voice sounded from a speaker he couldn't see.

  “Let me out of here!”

  “Not gonna happen, obviously. So just calm down. If you behave yourself, we’ll take the restraints off, and maybe even provide you with some reading material.”

  “Fuck you! I’m not going to calm down. Let me out of this—“ Deron suddenly felt incredibly drowsy. He looked down at his left wrist were he felt a funny heat traveling up his arm. There was a remote controlled I.V. bracelet on his wrist.

  “You fuckers…” he said, and drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning he awoke knowing that resistance was futile. It was time to employ his original plan of going along with the program – whatever it was. He would cooperate and earn his way out through completion of their program, or he’d escape. Whichever came first. He hoped it would be escape.

  “If you can still hear me, I could really use something to eat. I haven’t eaten since lunch at school yesterday.”

  “We’ll bring you something shortly.”

  A few minutes later he heard a door open. He looked to his right and there was Dr. Fielding with a bandaged head.

  “Good morning, Deron.”

  Deron sighed in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to say.

  “Can you give me your assurance that if we remove the restraints you will show your appreciation by simply eating and not attempting to use your dishes or utensils as weapons?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I believe you certainly did intend to hurt me. What other outcome could there have been from smashing a glass pitcher on the back of my head?”

  “Okay, yeah. I mean, I did, but my intention wasn’t about you personally. It was just to get away. I’m really sorry. And yes, I promise it won’t happen again. You can remove the restraints. I’ll even sit on my hands.”

  The doctor looked up at a hidden camera, nodded, and the restraints fell away.

  “I’ve released your arms and legs. You can sit up. But if I even suspect you’re about to become violent, you will immediately be rendered unconscious.”

  “I understand. Thank you.”

  “Throughout the day you will be monitored. The longer your behavior remains appropriate, the more liberties and privileges you will regain. Misbehave, and you’ll find yourself strapped to the cot, fully restrained again. You control your own destiny.”

  Deron nodded, wondering what type of liberty he could have while he was imprisoned. He was determined to be a model prisoner though, or model patient, and gain as much liberty as possible. He couldn’t stand being restrained or drugged. And he really didn’t want to use that toilet in the middle of the room.

  The doctor must’ve signaled someone because the door opened again and an orderly pushed a cart into the room and over to the cot. He turned around and left without a word.

  Deron lifted a large metal lid and revealed a plate with bacon, scrambled eggs, and hash browns; all of it cooked well-done. He couldn’t believe it. Real food. He lifted a smaller lid and found four pieces of sourdough toast and a small cup of whipped butter.

  “This is exactly the way I like my breakfast!”

  “We know,” Dr. Fielding replied.

  “But how?”

  “Just because you aren’t chipped yet doesn’t mean we can’t track your purchases in stores and restaurants. But it will be easier once the chip is in you, that’s for sure. Much more instantaneous than the weekly uploads we receive on the few people like yourself who aren’t chipped. But we’ll be taking care of that soon.”

  That answered how they knew what he liked, but not how he liked it. His mom is the one who bought the groceries and print tubes, and did the cooking. This had to mean there were cameras in his kitchen, despite the government claiming that the only domestic cameras were the ones that were built in to televisions for interactive purposes, and the exterior security cams.

  Deron ate while the doctor told him he would be showering after breakfast and then having his first therapy session, followed by social time, assuming he behaved himself through each activity. When the doctor finished, he left the room, closing and presumably locking the door behind him.

  Deron didn’t see any cameras in the room, but there had to be at least one somewhere because the same person who brought the food cart came back to remove it as soon as Deron finished eating.

  When that guy left, two more came in with someone who was probably a nurse. But this one was nothing like the last one he’d had. This one looked big and mean.

  “I’m removing your I.V. so you can go to the showers, but any funny business out of you and you’ll regret it.” She glanced at the two guards, each of whom held a black device that Deron recalled could make him feel extremely sick, very quickly.

  With the I.V. bracelet off, they led him out of the room. The nurse went one way and the guards indicated for him to go the other way. One walked in front of him and one stayed behind. They took him to a room that looked like the gym locker room and showers at school, only smaller.

  When they entered, both men stood still by the door, crossing their arms in front of their chests. One of them nodded toward the showers. Deron wondered why they hadn’t spoken a word yet. He undressed and showered, and when he came back toward the men at the door, one of them threw him a towel. After he dried himself, the other man threw him a package with a paper gown in it.

  Great. I guess I have to earn the right to wear real clothes.

  The men escorted him away from the showers, down the hall and into a room with a desk and a long horizontal metal cylinder. After Deron entered the room, the men left without giving him any instructions.

  ***


  When Charlie got up he decided to bury Feenix after all. So what if he didn’t have a backyard? He got his old army shovel from his closet and went to his front yard and started digging. It wasn’t easy to dig with a two-foot long shovel, but Charlie was determined to do it to bury his best friend.

  He had no idea what the punishment would be if he was spotted, either by surveillance cameras on his street, a neighborhood patrol drone, or if someone reported him. At this point, he was so disgusted he didn’t care. Without Deron or Feenix in his life, he felt he had nothing else to lose. At least Deron was only gone temporarily, but for how long, he had no way of knowing. So he wouldn’t make matters worse by shooting the cameras or the street lights. As long as Deron would be returning, he had something to live for.

  Shortly after he had finished filling in the grave, while Charlie was sitting on the grass and thinking about Feenix a blue and white EEC patrol car pulled up partially blocking his driveway as well as the next-door neighbor’s. Charlie figured he was busted, and it hadn’t taken long at all.

  The officer in the passenger side of the car looked at him, the shovel, and the small rectangle of fresh soil amidst the perfectly groomed lawn and wondered what the hell Charlie had been doing. Then he and his partner got out and walked up the neighbor’s driveway and over to the front door.

  They knocked, then spoke to someone, then returned to their patrol car with the man next-door following them. The two black officers and the white man stopped when they reached the patrol car. Charlie could clearly hear their conversation.

  “Am I under arrest? I haven’t done anything. I swear.”

  “No, Mr. Johnson. You’re only receiving a citation and a training order.” The officer read over the report on his slate computer. The other one stood there looking around, frequently glancing at Charlie inquisitively.

  “I honestly don’t know what I’ve done wrong,” the man said.