by Nic Tatano
“Yes, I’ve noticed you haven’t activated it yet.”
My heart slams against my chest. I lean against the wall for support, but my knees weaken and I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. “I… uh… haven’t had time. School stuff… lots of, you know, tests. And homework.”
“Well, I hope you’ll turn it on soon. Your other cell doesn’t appear to be working.”
Think fast. “I accidentally dropped it in water and it shorted out.”
“Oh. Well a teenage girl shouldn’t be without a cell phone. You should activate the one I sent you.”
“Yeah, sure. I will.”
“Everything okay, Jillian?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Listen, I’m sorry about how we met. I hadn’t planned it that way. But I hope we can get together in the future and talk. There are some things I’d like you to know about me and why… things happened the way they did years ago. And I’d like to get to know you better.”
I’ll bet. “Sure.”
“Okay, then. Anytime you need anything, you can call your dad.”
Now he’s crossing the line. I don’t have a dad. I’m suddenly getting an infusion of confidence, morphing from scared to pissed off. My eyes narrow as my jaw tightens. I would hang up, tell him to go to Hell even though he’s already got a timeshare there, but there’s too much at stake.
“Or with that new phone you can just think about it.”
“Yeah, okay. Sure.”
“You still have the phone, right?”
“Yes.” (A lie - it’s at The Summit. Plus, I’m waiting to hear back from the federal government to see if I can bury it in the warehouse seen at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.)
“Good, because yours is a very special phone, top of the line with features the regular phones don’t have. I designed it specially for you. It’s one of a kind. Take care, Jillian. Give my best to your mother. Bye now.”
The line goes dead just as my mother walks in and sees me.
She runs and crouches down next to me. “Jillian, are you all right? What are you doing on the floor?”
“I’m okay—”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“More like talked to one.” I hold up the phone. “My father called.”
Now my Mom has gotten upset from time to time over the years, but I’ve never seen her like this. She takes the phone from my hand, stares at it like she’s Superman trying to bore a hole through it with her laser stare. Her tightened face goes red. “How dare he,” she says, in a guttural tone I’ve never heard and, quite frankly, makes me want to call a priest and tell him to hurry over with holy water.
“I’ll be okay, Mom.” (I’m a good liar.) “He caught me off guard and I got a little dizzy. Just let me sit here a few minutes.”
She hangs up the phone, sits down next to me on the floor and wraps an arm around my shoulder, then kisses me on the side of the head. “I’m so sorry, honey.” Her eyes well up and I see a single tear roll down her cheek. “I honestly thought he would stay out of your life and I thought I was done with him. I hate that he’s ruining what should be one of the best years of your life.”
“He’s not, Mom. And I’m not going to let him.”
***
Fuzzball dropped by an hour later with a gift that will at least keep my father from hacking a crucial piece of electronics in our house.
It’s an old fashioned analog phone with a rotary dial. The geek squad at The Summit contends that since there’s no real digital technology in the thing, my father should not be able to interface with it. And if that doesn’t keep him from mentally wiretapping us, we’ll downgrade to a couple of tin cans and a string, or, use the old New York standby, yelling out the window.
So our cordless has been replaced with this ancient black telephone with a straight cord and a handset that weighs a ton. It’s from the 1940s. Fuzzball got some contact of his at the phone company to change our service so it will work with a rotary phone. Call waiting is now a busy signal. (What a concept… you actually have to finish one conversation before insulting the person you’re talking to by taking a call you deem more important.) Caller ID is a crapshoot. But the phone does come with one feature I’m gonna like. Now if you want to seriously hang up on someone you can do it with a little flair and a loud bang. Somehow jamming your thumb into a button on a cordless doesn’t carry the same effect.
And no, I didn’t have to ask him how to use this retro device. (I have seen Mad Men, after all.)
So my first call (amazing clarity on this thing) is to Ryan, telling him I desperately need his company.
He arrives five minutes later, a bit out of breath, so I know he ran the few blocks from his house. He locks eyes with me and instantly sees a damsel in distress, albeit one who is quickly developing a steel backbone, wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me into a hug. I lay my head on his shoulder with my arms around his neck. His special hugs make me feel safe, and in those moments I’m hanging there in midair I know he’ll protect me at all costs. I become a 1940s girl, matching the telephone. He puts me down after a minute, brushes my hair back and studies my face as he gently takes it in his hands. “What happened, Sparks?”
I give him a quick recap of my phone call from hell. (Kinda sorta literally.) “I’ll be okay. I just need you to be with me right now.”
“Sure,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch. We both sit, still holding hands. “Don’t worry, Sparks, I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I know you won’t. And you give me strength.”
“I think it’s the other way around, remember? You’re the healer.”
“I meant it in a different way, Ryan.”
“Hey, you’re tougher than you think.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Suddenly his eyes widen. “Oh, I’ve got news regarding that scouting mission you sent me on.”
I’ve forgotten I’d asked him to find out what happened with Brian and Stacy. “Soooo…”
“You were right, Brian didn’t get one of those phones. Anyway, he said a few days after Stacy got hers she started acting distant. Get this, she quit the cheerleading squad.”
“You gotta be kidding! That was her whole life.” (When Stacy asked, “Are you okay?” she would spell out the letters with her body, R-U-O-K.)
“Handed in her pompoms on Friday. Told Brian she thought it was stupid to run around in a short skirt and a crop top cheering for a bunch of dumb jocks. That upset him, then she told him they were going in different directions and her goals had changed.”
“Changed… to what?”
“She didn’t say. But she said she didn’t want to date him anymore.”
“Was he cheating on her?”
“Are you kidding? What guy in his right mind would cheat on a girl who looked like that?”
I raise one eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Soooo… you think Stacy’s hot?”
He blushes a bit. “I mean, uh, you know, if you’re a guy who’s attracted to that type.”
I’m gonna have a little fun with this. “Oh, I see. By that type you mean a blue-eyed blonde with a bikini perfect body?”
“Sparks, I’m your boyfriend but I’m not blind. Gimme a break here.”
I shoot him a soft smile and run my fingers though his hair. “I’m just messing with you. Girl’s gotta make sure the man in her life doesn’t have a roving eye.”
“What guy in his right mind would cheat on a serious babe like you?”
“Nice recovery, mister.” Really, the boy’s learning fast who’s the boss around here. (Roxanne is certainly onto something.)
“Meanwhile, if we can get back to those two breaking up… she’s apparently in some new clique and everyone in it has one of those phones.”
“Any idea what they’re up to?”
“No, but I have an idea how to find out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Two days later, we’re about to know a lot more.
The Summit geeks have finished testing the phones; those available to the general public and the one my father sent me. So Sebastien has dropped by for an after school special to bring us up to speed.
“The phones are able to access the part of the brain, that, for lack of a scientific term, controls free will,” he says, sipping coffee at our kitchen table. “In other words, we think your father will be able to control anyone who is linked to one of his phones.”
“I think he already has that ability,” I say.
“Not quite,” says Sebastien. “He seems to have removed whatever ambition people had. As to what he’s planning to do with these people, we still do not know.”
“What about Jillian’s phone?” asks Mom.
Sebastien reaches into his briefcase and pulls out the gold cell, which sends a chill up my spine as if it were an explosive device.
“So what’s the deal with that one?”
“It is similar to the other phones, though it only uses Delta brainwaves.”
I furrow my brow. “Aren’t brainwaves all the same?”
“No. Different waves control different functions.” Sebastien takes a small pad from his inside jacket pocket. “This is all new to me as well, so I took notes. There are four kinds of brainwaves: Alpha, Beta, Theta and Delta. All are in play to differing degrees at the same time.”
“So what’s the difference?” asks Mom.
“Alpha waves are sort of relaxed thought, like when you’re trying to control stress. Beta waves are emitted during a normal state of consciousness. Theta waves are produced when daydreaming or learning, and those are the waves the regular cell phone ties into.”
“Which is why everyone looks zoned out,” I say.
“Not a scientific term, but accurate. We believe your father is using Theta waves to access the part of the brain that is very receptive to learning, and that he is somehow teaching people to lose their ambition. To start.”
“And my phone uses Delta waves.”
He nods. “And only Delta waves. Those are the waves produced by your subconscious. So obviously that’s the area of your brain he wishes to access. And, though we have no way of testing this theory until the phone is activated, we think it could have even more control over its user.”
“Its user meaning me.”
He nods.
I go cold. Because I know what this means. The Council wants to activate the damn thing and I’m gonna be a guinea pig.
“So, what’s the plan?” asks Mom.
“Regarding the phone, we have not come up with anything as of yet,” says Sebastien. “But The Council believes it is imperative that Jillian develop a… relationship… with her father.”
“No!” says Mom, standing up and folding her arms. “I won’t allow it. He nearly killed Ryan.”
“We do not believe he would harm his own daughter.” He turns to face me. “We think he has plans for you.”
“Wow, what a news flash,” I say. “Let me call the networks.”
“Jillian!” Mom shoots me a glare.
“I’m sorry, Sebastien, that was rude. I know you’re only trying to help me and I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. So what do you think those plans would be?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing unless you develop a relationship.” Sebastien leans forward and takes my hands, the first time he’s ever touched me. His are cold, wrinkled and coarse. “Jillian, I’m not suggesting you accept him as your father, but merely pretend to be interested in cultivating a relationship with him to find out his intentions.”
“Not gonna happen,” says Mom, as she lays one hand on my shoulder and looks into my soul. “She’s my only child.” Her voice cracks as I see her eyes well up.
“I’ll be okay, Mom. I already talked to him on the phone and nothing bad happened.”
“Yeah, and he wants you to activate that phone. God only knows what could happen if you do that.” She shakes her head again. “Sebastien, isn’t there any way to activate it without her brainwaves?”
“Unfortunately not. Every one of his phones requires a personal link. And we cannot use someone else. If Jillian is to gain her father’s trust, the phone must be activated.”
Sebastien’s words hang in the air for a minute, the rhythmic ticking of our grandfather clock the only thing audible as it seems to tick off seconds down to my impending doom. Finally I break the silence. “You’re sure my phone only uses Delta waves?”
“Yes,” says Sebastien.
“Well,” I say, “if that’s true, I’ve got an idea.”
***
“I don’t like it.” Ryan shakes his head as he looks past me out to the street from my front porch. “It’s too risky.”
“I agree,” says Roxanne, sitting next to him. “Jillian, you’ve seen what those phones do to people.”
“But it won’t receive my unique brainwaves when we activate it,” I say, facing them as I stand on the brick front walk. “The phone will receive a combination of our brainwaves since we’ll be in the middle of a session.”
“How do we know our brainwaves will combine?” asks Ryan.
“Sebastien says his scientists are reasonably sure.”
Roxanne raises her eyebrows. “Reasonably sure? I don’t think I want to risk your life for reasonably sure.”
“Look, they’ve done tests this week with people in the middle of sessions and the brainwaves do combine. The phone will receive a pattern that does not exist in one person. It will contain a part of each of us.”
“Yeah, and part of it will be you,” says Ryan. “Which means the phone could affect you. Even if it affects one third of your brain, that’s one third too much.”
“Look, I have to establish a relationship with my father. Activating the phone is key to making that happen because he’ll never trust me otherwise. I can’t keep coming up with excuses as to why I won’t use the thing. Besides, you can text manually on it so I won’t be sending him messages with my mind. He’ll never know.” I can tell they’re still not buying my argument. “Guys, we’ll all be together in my subconscious, and the phone is only interested in those particular brainwaves.”
Ryan and Roxanne look at each other. “I still don’t like it,” she says.
“I don’t either,” says Ryan. “But she can be pretty stubborn.”
“Hey!”
“Truth hurts, huh?” says Roxanne.
“Leave me alone!”
Ryan reaches out, takes my hands and pulls me up the steps so that I’m looking down at him. “Look, Sparks, we both think this is a bad idea. But if you’re hell bent on doing this, we’re not gonna let you do it alone.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re turning into a friggin’ daredevil,” says Roxanne.
“Just taking after you.”
“Okay then,” says Ryan. “But I have a question. How are we going to have a session while getting a phone activated?”
“Fuzzball has that taken care of. He’s got a friend who runs a store. He’s going to let us in after it closes and leave us alone.”
“So when are we gonna do this?” asks Roxanne.
“Sunday night.”
“Great,” says Ryan. “we at least get one more weekend before you turn into a pod person.”
***
Ryan moves slowly through the serving line, my gold phone peeking out of his pocket. He heads to our table at a glacial pace, sliding his feet across the floor, and sets his tray down next to me. “Good afternoon, girls,” he says, in a robotic tone. “And how are you today?”
“Good God,” says Roxanne. “Are you a Cylon or a member of the Borg collective?”
“Resistance is futile,” he says, keeping up his pod person disguise as he stares into space. “Take me to your leader.”
“I think you’ll fit right in,” I say. “Go for it.”
“See you tonight,” he whispers in a normal tone out of the side of his mouth. He gets up and heads for the table filled with
the cell phone zombies.
“He’ll make a good double agent,” says Roxanne.
“Yeah, that’s a spot-on impression of them.” I look over and see Ryan slide his tray onto the table and sit down next to Stacy, who is no longer dressed in her usual cheerleader outfit but in pants and a high necked blouse. Everyone at the table is eating very slowly and talking very little. “I just hope they don’t do anything to him and he can snap out of it tonight.”
“I’m sure one of those new outfits will help bring him back to reality. You worn the leather skirt yet?”
“No, but that’s a good suggestion.” I look around for Jake and see him looking forlorn at the geek table. I cock my head in his direction. “Your new boy toy looks a little down.”
She glances over at him and gives him a quick smile. “That’s because I’m going out with someone else tonight.”
“I thought you and Jake had chemistry.”
She turns back to me. “We do. But I’m letting him know who’s boss.”
“Isn’t that already established, Mistress Roxanne?”
“Just showing him there’s competition. Even though there isn’t.”
“Jeez, Rox, I thought we were past making guys jealous.”
“Well, there’s more to it than that. I’m going out with Tyler Hall tonight.”
Oh. The Body, as he’s known around school. The star defensive end Greek god for whom every girl would make an exception and overlook the fact that if he doesn’t make the NFL he’s got a real future as a doorstop. He’s the full size version of the Pocket Chippendale. “I’m curious as to what the topic of dinner conversation will be. Quantum physics? Doctor Seuss?” I get a cute idea and use my little girl voice. “Gimme wham-bam, thank you ma’am. I’m yours tonight, Roxanne I am.”
“Very funny. Look, I don’t care if he opens his mouth except to kiss me. The guy is six feet five inches of prime beef without an ounce of fat. A girl built like me doesn’t get to feel diminutive very often. It’s a one time deal that I couldn’t pass up.”
A folded slip of paper floats down the table and lands in front of me. I open it and read Can we talk after school? I look at Jake, smile and nod.
