by Andrew Gates
The words meant nothing to her. For the rest of the meeting her mind continued to jump from Hope Davis, the woman in green, to Dan Georgopolis, her apparent friend here. One she disliked, the other she felt attracted to.
The words Dan said earlier came back to her again. Hell of a first day, she thought.
After the introductions, new procedures were discussed, a few announcements were made about the upcoming school year and then returning teachers were dismissed. The room quickly cleared out. Where there were almost 50 or 60 teachers a moment ago, now there were now only four, not including the principle, who remained to lead the orientation.
All that remained were a middle-aged Southeast-Asian looking woman in a thick brown sweater, a slender Sub-Saharan looking man in a white shirt who looked far too young for his white hair, a short South American looking man in a white shirt and of course Tim and Iris. Apart from Tim, Iris remembered none of these people. She did not remember any of their names, nor even the subjects they taught.
“Alright, so at last there were four,” Tim joked, remaining seated this time.
All of the new teachers looked around at each other. Iris could tell by the twinkle in their eyes that they all felt both nervous and excited. She imagined what her own eyes were saying. I probably just look nervous, she thought.
“So now we’re going to go over your daily routines, your daily responsibilities, that sort of thing. Let’s just start off from the beginning. At the start of each day, you will report to your homeroom. It’s good to get there before the students arrive. This is where they will meet each morning and you will take attendance before the school hours begin.”
Tim continued elaborating on the daily responsibilities of the teachers. Iris tried to pay more attention this time since the information seemed important, but again, her mind would wander. This was not uncommon for her. Her mind often wandered when she studied history too. She would read the old texts and imagine a world in her head, surrounded by nothing but air, where wild non-human creatures walked alongside people. She imagined a world of green organic decorations feeding oxygen to the air. She imagined great buildings, bridges, automobiles and metal machines called airplanes that could swim through the sea above the water.
Though a wandering mind was nothing new to her, the thoughts dancing in her head now seemed to concern her new co-workers, mainly Dan Georgopolis, rather than visions of the surface. She could see his thick black hair and piercing dark eyes. But why was he on her mind? What was so special about this man? Iris did not know. She was never one for being social, but she did not think this was a normal reaction to meeting someone new.
He’s just a 36-year-old science teacher, Iris told herself. He’s nothing special. There’s no such thing as an immediate crush, or at least that’s what she used to think. Now she was no longer so sure.
Only a few months after graduating high school, Iris had her only serious romance with a boy named Thorn Hilmarsson. Or more accurately, Thorn had a romance with her. On a late August day, a naive 18-year-old Iris walked through the white halls of her sector when she stumbled upon a long faced boy with light hair and deep colorless eyes. He asked her name and she answered. Iris did not think much of this stranger when she first met him. She could tell that he was slightly younger, but he did not seem particularly interesting or physically attractive. Still, she played along.
That night she and Thorn followed the transition zone to one of the many multicolored entertainment sectors, lined with dance clubs filled with half-dressed holograms and bars serving brightly colored hallucinogens in green glass jars. To the girl’s surprise, Thorn took part in it all. Iris had never seen someone so uninhibited. Whoever this boy was, he sure knew how to command a room, engaging strangers, relating stories and sharing his opinions with anyone who walked by. This may have been a new world for Iris, but the 18-year-old girl did not last long in it. After the glamor wore off, she felt uneasy and quickly learned that this was not the life for her.
She left the sector early that night and Thorn insisted on walking her home. The gesture was nice, but not particularly necessary. Iris thought that would be the last of him, but to her surprise, she received a pod message from him a day later, inviting her to come to his residence. Iris was not ignorant. She knew his intentions, and although she felt nothing towards him, she agreed to go anyway. Feeling a sense of both eagerness and nervousness, she hastily put on a sweatshirt and pants and headed over. There was something exciting about knowing that she could lose her virginity, something she had looked forward to for a long time. But at the same time, she felt as if there was almost something sacred in maintaining it for as long as she had. Despite her mixed feelings, she continued on.
Iris could remember pressing on the door to his residence. It was unlocked and slid open with her light touch. The lights were dim and he simply sat still on his couch, clearly expecting her entry.
“You wanted me to come,” she said hesitantly. Thorn also appeared nervous that night, though Iris guessed for different reasons.
“What’s up?” he replied casually, clearly trying to hide his own nervousness.
The two talked awkwardly for a few moments, both fully aware of why they were here. As the conversation came to a lull, Thorn seized the opportunity and said, “So… you wanna make out?”
It could hardly be considered romantic, but Iris said yes and leaned in. She did not know the first thing about handling a man’s body and knew she was making a fool of herself. Nothing had to be said of her virginity. The boy could clearly tell by where Iris put her hands or by the odd way she pulled down his underwear. But Thorn did not seem to mind. In fact, he seemed almost excited by the fact that this was her first time. That night, they never made love, but it was the first time Iris felt a man’s mouth on her nether regions. The act itself passed so quickly she hardly remembered it happening, but she was excited by the very fact that it even occurred at all.
What followed was something Iris did not expect. What began as a quick hookup eventually grew into a relationship. She still felt nothing for the boy, but the thought of being in a relationship of any kind interested her. They started spending each day together, hardly ever leaving each other’s sights. They would eat together, silently read next to each other, even sleep together. Yet something was missing. She longed to find that spark she had as a kid growing up with Trace or as a student in high school belonging to a group.
Months passed and as time went on, Thorn began to show his true side. What began as romantic gestures gradually turned into lustful explorations. More and more, whether in residences, hallways, stores or even transition zones, his fingers would find their way into her shirt and around her breasts. Iris often gave in, not knowing how to turn him down. Though often it seemed he could never be satisfied.
As much as Iris loved being a part of a relationship, she came to realize that this was no relationship at all. He only wanted her for her body. That was plain enough to see.
Thorn was understanding when she finally confronted him about it. There were tears from both parties when she broke it off, but nothing more. The worst part for Iris was not the relationship itself, but that this dull partnership had actually been a high point for her.
“So if you’ll all follow me, I’ll take you all to your homerooms now,” Tim said as Iris snapped back into focus. She did not know how much she had missed, but she guessed it was a lot. Sometimes she really hated her wandering mind.
Iris stood up, as did the other three new teachers. They all waited for Tim to exit the room and then followed him out one by one. Iris was the first out, followed by the woman in the sweater, the skinny young white haired man and the shorter man after him. Tim turned around to look at the new teachers with a big grin on his face. He spotted Iris first, as she was directly behind him.
“Iris, I guess we’ll start with you,” he said in a jolly tone. She noticed the man waddled as he walked. His chunky body seemed to move left and right with each st
ep. “Your room is the closest one anyway.”
Iris and the others followed Tim down the dull thin grey corridors, past lockers and closed classroom doors. As she walked, she was reminded of her heels and her skirt. Spending all that time sitting down, she had forgotten how awkward it was to move around in these clothes. She caught a brief glimpse of her reflection in the glass window of a closed classroom door as she walked by. She had forgotten how colorful her bright red blouse was. It stood out in the sea of grey all around her. And once again she was surprised to see how tightly the skirt seemed to suck in her waist. Her face seemed different too beneath all that makeup, though some of it seemed to have rubbed off a bit, maybe from sweat, or just simply from brushing her hand against it. It doesn’t even look like me, she thought.
“And here we are,” Tim said after passing a few more doors. He stopped and turned around, facing the group. “This is the classroom for Ms. Vitneskja.” He said the words with a grin on his face, grabbed onto the door handle and pushed it open.
Iris stepped inside, hoping to see a classroom like the one where they held their meeting. But to her surprise, the room was a third the size. It seemed as if it was only able to hold 20 students at most. The walls were as grey as anything else here. All the chair/desks were facing her right as she entered and a large desk was positioned directly ahead of her, facing the student seating. Behind the desk was a chair, clearly meant for the teacher and behind that, a large touch screen monitor against the wall.
“It’s so small,” she said as she entered.
Tim lifted his hands up, as if to suggest there was nothing to do about it.
“What can I say?” he asked. “It’s the station. This is why we have population control, Iris. Space is limited.”
Iris walked over to the chair and pulled it out. It was white and made out of plastic. Iris always hated the smell of new plastic. In the old days men would carve chairs out of a special non-synthetic material called wood. Supposedly it was sturdy, light and beautiful, but best of all, its smell was renowned. As she sat down, she imagined she was sitting in an old wooden chair and thought what that must have felt like. Everything is metal now, she thought, or plastic or foam. She opened her nostrils to let in the woody smell but all that entered her nose was the smell of freshly molded plastic. Iris was immediately pulled from her fantasy. She hoped the smell would not last long.
“Do you like it?” Tim asked.
Iris looked up. Tim was standing next to her as the other three teachers waited out in the hallway.
“It will grow on me,” she answered. She turned and studied the undecorated room. “I’ll get used to it. So this is where I need to meet my students every morning?” she asked.
Tim nodded. He leaned over to a drawer on her big desk made out of the same white plastic she was sitting on, and pulled it open. He removed a small touchscreen from the drawer and waved his hand in front of it to turn it on. After pressing a few icons on the screen, he handed it to Iris.
“This is your daily attendance log,” he explained. “As I was saying in the meeting, you will record the student attendance here in this table.”
A white sheet appeared on the screen. Students’ names were displayed next to empty boxes. It appeared easy enough to figure out.
“I understand,” she said, looking up at him.
“Well if you have no further questions, I can just leave you here or you can come with us. You’ve already taken a formal tour of the school, right?” he asked.
“Yes, the day of my interview,” she replied.
“So then you’re done for today.”
Iris said nothing back. After a moment, Tim quietly turned around and walked out. This was her room now. This was her new beginning.
GREY SPENT THE ENTIRE MEETING wondering why Dan had taken such an interest in the new history teacher. He saw the way his brother greeted her as she entered and how he whispered to her privately throughout the meeting. Dan was always a friendly man, but Grey knew his brother. Dan was acting friendlier than normal with this shy woman.
“Glad to see you made a new friend,” Grey said to him as the teachers walked out together. He pulled his backpack up around his shoulder, feeling the weight of its emptiness. The math teacher did not really need to bring it today. All it contained was a water bottle and his personal pod but he had grown used to carrying his bag with him and found the habit hard to break.
“What do you mean?” asked Dan, turning to his younger brother.
Grey smiled. Come on, does he really not know? All he had to do was look at him for a few seconds and Dan finally caved.
“Alright, I thought it would be nice to be friendly to the new girl. She’s young and she looks like she has no idea what the hell she’s doing,” he answered.
“Dan, she acted like a 12-year-old in there,” Grey said. He wanted to sound comical not rude, but he wasn’t sure the tone came off the way he intended.
Dan put his hands up, as if suggesting it was not his problem.
“So she acts younger than she is. So do I,” he replied, as if he was trying to defend himself.
Grey wondered if Dan thought he was accusing him of something.
“But you don’t choke up when people ask you to speak. Look, she seems like a nice enough lady. Too bad for you she’s not a Greek,” he said, once again intending to be comical.
Dan took a step away from his brother as they walked down the grey halls of Harrison.
“Hey, who said anything about my interest in this girl?” he asked.
There he goes using the word girl again, Grey thought. Despite how she acted, this was a woman of 30 they were talking about. And why is Dan being so defensive?
“Calm down,” the younger brother said. “I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just trying to be funny. I’m giving you a hard time, that’s all.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” Dan said. Grey expected he would be finished with this conversation, but to his surprise, Dan continued to go on about her. “She strikes me as an academic. She says she spends most of her time studying. I feel like she belongs in a university, not a middle school, don’t you think?” he asked.
Grey did not know why Dan kept talking about her. He merely intended to make a quick comment about the woman and move on.
“Uh, I don’t know. I didn’t really talk to her as much as you,” Grey answered honestly. “Why do you care?”
Dan shrugged. Perhaps he did not know why he continued talking about her either. Fortunately for Grey, his older brother seemed to stay quiet after that.
The two brothers continued down the hall as the wave of teachers walked home. Some huddled in groups, having their own conversations, others paced down the halls at rapid speeds like their residential oxygen levels were about to exceed flammability regulation any second. Grey never quite understood why some teachers were so eager to make it back right away, especially on a day like today. They had only met for a few hours.
As much as Grey enjoyed his work, he always wished the summer break was longer. He liked having time off to spend with his wife and children. His five-year-old daughter Kaitlyn was growing up fast. He could still remember when she was Misha’s age. Next year Kaitlyn would be starting her first year of school. As any father would, Grey wanted to spend as much time with his girls as he could before they dove into elementary school.
Grey turned and looked towards his brother. Dan was older but had no wife or child. He was never good at staying committed to someone special. It wasn’t that he was bad at relationships, but rather he never cared enough to try. As far as Grey could tell, Dan was perfectly content living life on his own.
Maybe he likes this new teacher, Grey finally considered. If that were true, it would be the first time he had seen his brother take an interest in a woman like that. Perhaps it’s because they’re both adults acting like teens. Grey smiled as that thought crossed his mind. He doubted it was true, but if it was, it was amusing.
“What are
you smiling about?” Dan asked, noticing the grin on his face.
Grey did not realize his brother was watching. He turned to face him, slightly embarrassed.
“Oh nothing. You just got me thinking about that teacher again,” he replied honestly. Suddenly the younger brother realized he should not have said that. Now Dan will probably talk about her again, just after this conversation ended.
“Oh yeah? What’s so funny?” he wondered, returning Grey’s smile.
“I was just thinking, you guys both act like kids, whispering to each other, playing the age game and all. I wonder if you’re made for each other,” Grey responded in a joking tone.
Dan responded with laughter.
“Could be,” Dan said, “but it’s like you said, she’s not Greek. So I guess we’ll never know.”
That was true. The Atlantic Federation was strict about preserving old surface-era ethnic identities and limited relationships to people belonging to the same ethnic group. His own wife Selena was a Greek, her family name Karras before inheriting Georgopolis. Grey secretly always preferred her name to his.
“I didn’t catch her ethnicity,” Grey said.
“She said she’s Icelandic, whatever that is,” he responded.
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Dan said with a shrug. “I don’t think it’s close enough to get a pass. If she said she was Turkish or something, maybe that could work, but I don’t really care enough to look into it. Look, the girl and I were just talking, that’s all.”
“Alright,” Grey responded, not wanting to sound accusative. This brother’s defensive tone was back. But once again, the conversation about Iris seemed to be over and Grey did not want to make the mistake of bringing her up one more time.
The two brothers were quiet the rest of the way. As they exited the school area, the wall color changed from grey to yellow.
The color yellow marked the transition zones, long public commuter areas that formed a series of concentric circles around the station. Here, the halls were wider and the ceilings taller. The metal floor was thicker too, heavily reinforced to support the weight of scooters or movers. From this yellow ring, commuters could walk or drive to a number of different shops, recreation areas, residential areas, offices and so on.
