Chapter 5 – A Kaleidoscope of Color...
“Are you telling us you're not hungry at all?”
Tarence's mother frowned at her son's stubborn refusal to taste any of the licorice, popcorn or pie that the administrators supplied to the family table to celebrate another one of Tarence's special days.
The boy's father grinned apologetically at the dark-suited administrators. “You're being rude, son. You should not brood all sudden and sour, especially when so many sweets fill your table. You should thank them. You should be happy.”
Tarence grimaced. “I worry I've had too many special days this year.”
Father's face flushed and mother's face paled at their son's defiant tone. Even in the new word, children could still be monsters.
“We're very sorry for his behavior,” the mother sobbed to the taller administrator.
“It's nothing to feel sorry for,” the administrator responded. “The latest modifications are showing results beyond our highest hopes. It is natural that he should feel a little trepidation. Your son's about to step into an entirely new world.”
Tarence feared peeking upon the table laden with sweets, unless his eyes lock onto the dark spectacles the administrators delivered. He was too afraid that he might find something other than the darkness as he gazed into those black glasses. He feared he would be unable to look away. His parents vowed that the world he knew was plastic and dull. They promised he deserved a better world composed of desire and dream that the machine would give him. Yet Tarence did not share such faith. Tarence enjoyed many things in his world of white, plastic walls – he knew friends, he knew games, and most of all, he knew the replicant maker and the man's wonderful creations. Could the machine possess anything as inspiring as the replicant maker? Tarence had never heard his parents talk of flying cranes. He never heard them describe frolicking cats and loyal dogs. He never heard them talk of leaping dolphins and charging rhinoceroses. Watching the replicant maker inspired Tarence to describe such things. The replicant maker's animals pulled the memory of the old world out from the outside's ruins. Tarence wanted little part of the machine world if such a space held no room for animals.
“Imagine it, son.” Father knelt next to his son and clasped his forearm. “A world of imagination.”
Tarence felt fear welling in his throat. “This too is a world of imagination. The replicant maker has taught us how to fill the plastic, white walls with wonder.”
Tarence's mother swooned.
“Ah, the replicant maker,” the shorter administrator nodded and took a seat next to Tarence at the table. “We owe that man much for the comfort he gave the young when their minds remained too young for the machine. But the new modifications now provide a place for children in the machine. Mr. Hightower served us well, and we are hoping that the latest modifications allow him to return to the machine.”
Tarence's frustration flashed with a thump of his hand onto the table, toppling a cupcake onto the floor.
“The machine hurt the replicant maker,” Tarence growled.
The tall man nodded. “Mr. Hightower's situation is as tragic as it is unique. He has been the only one to ever find hurt within the machine.”
Tarence raised an eyebrow. “What if I find hurt?”
“You will not,” and such was the shorter man's faith. “You will find anything you want. Anything you can think of is waiting for you within the machine.”
“We're happy to finally give you the special day you deserve, Tarence.” The taller administrator moved to Tarence's side opposite of his suited companion. “We regret it took so many tries. Before the recent modifications, there was no way to precisely know when the machine and the mind would merge. Now, we know for certain that the machine is ready for you, Tarence.”
“But I don't want to go.”
Tarence gave a muffled moan as the men in the dark suits and thin ties grabbed his arms and held them against the table.
“Believe us, Tarence,” spoke the tall man. “You'll never want to leave after the machine embraces your mind.”
Tarence squirmed. He kicked. His struggles toppled a soda and a milkshake, and many hard-candy jawbreakers rolled across the floor. But Tarence could not fight the administrators' patient, persistent strength while his father, with pride sparkling in his eyes, took the spectacles from the table and placed them upon his son. The spectacles hummed quietly as they embraced Tarence. For a moment, Tarence's vision remained black.
Then, a white diamond appeared in Tarence's vision, a single pinpoint of light against the black curtain. It throbbed in rhythm to the beat of Tarence's heart as the machine opened to another child's mind. The white point of light expanded. A kaleidoscope of color swirled in Tarence's eyes – reds and magentas, yellows and oranges, blues and greens absent in the new city's plastic, white walls. The dark spectacles unraveled visions to the boy's mind. Tarence ceased his struggles and smiled.
“He's in. He's finally in.” Tarence's mother clasped her hands while joy filled her eyes with tears.
“I knew he would just bloom once the machine embraced him,” and pride cracked his father's voice.
“We regret we kept Tarence waiting so long,” the shorter man apologized.
“But we are thrilled that the most recent modifications now speak so well to the children,” the taller associate smiled. “They've been separated from the machine for too long.”
The associates accepted the father's handshakes and the mother's hugs before showing themselves through the apartment's door.
Tarence's parents beamed as they watched their son take his first steps into the machine's new world. Tarence never budged in his chair. Surrounded by the candies and the treats that crowded his table upon his special day, Tarence gave no regard to the sweets that might have otherwise tempted his taste. He was in the machine, and the machine would provide any of the luxuries he would onward crave.
Tarence's mother smiled at her boy. “What do you think he dreams?”
The father shrugged his shoulders and hugged his wife. “We'll never know. Whatever he dreams within the system is only for him and the machine to know.”
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Butcher, Baker and Replicant Maker Page 7
