The Emoticon Generation (16 page)

Read The Emoticon Generation Online

Authors: Guy Hasson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Anthologies & Literary Collections, #General, #Short Stories, #Anthologies, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Genre Fiction, #Anthologies & Short Stories

BOOK: The Emoticon Generation
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“Scientists say it
is
true, so it must be true.”

Joan shook her head vehemently. “Scientists have been wrong. Scientists make mistakes. Sometimes the news interviews kooks as scientists.”

Roger lay on his back. “I don’t know. They took scans of brains and they say that that part of our brains and the kids’ part of the brain is the same. So that’s it. It’s done. It’s true. It’s just... maybe what he says about imagination...”

“What did he say? I don’t remember.”

“Maybe we blocked it. Maybe we heard too many ‘no’s from our parents and school. Maybe it’s just blocked.”

Joan shook her head. “No. I don’t feel blocked.”

Roger raised the newspaper and was about to read it again. “Anyway, what does it matter?”

Joan shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s just interesting.”

“We’re on a bus!” Russell’s excited scream came through the closed door.

Roger shook his head. “You’d better get him to do his homework, or he’s going to drive his bus right through the wall there.”

Joan turned around to look at the math book. “Do you remember anything about dividing fractions?”

“Hell, no.” Roger spread his newspaper wide and shut himself off from the world.

Joan sighed and opened Russell’s book again.

~

When the next day drew to a close, Russell couldn’t fall sleep. First, he refused to go to sleep saying he wasn’t tired. Then, once his parents put him to sleep, he walked out of the room at nine saying he couldn’t sleep. Then he walked out of the room around nine thirty. Then around ten. Then around ten thirty. Then around eleven. Then around eleven thirty. Then just after midnight.

Roger hadn’t seen the news all day. He was watching the news as Russell walked out. Joan was just about to go into the shower, when she saw Russell.

“Awww, come here,” Joan said and hugged Russell. “Still can’t sleep.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Russell said.

Roger couldn’t hear the TV with the two of them talking, so he turned the sound up.

“In the ‘Could It Be True’ department,” the good-looking Asian anchor was saying, “Last night during our Wesson & Smith News Hour we aired an interview with Dr. M. Burrows about his research into what many have already dubbed The Freedom Hormone.”

Roger perked up. Joan held Russell tighter to her bosom. “You want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight?”

Deep inside her embrace, Russell nodded.

“When Dr. Burrows explained,” the anchor continued without pause, “that adults’ brains have as much imagination as kids’ brains, our phones at the station begun to ring off the hook. And they haven’t stopped.”

“All right,” Joan told Russell. “Let’s watch this, then go to sleep.”

“Shh,” Roger said.

The good-looking Asian anchor continued, “The phones at Dr. Burrows’ labs have collapsed, his email box has been bombarded by thousands of emails, and he has stopped answering his cell phone. To clarify his statement, we caught him trying to enter the lab earlier today. We aired the full interview earlier. Here are the highlights.”

Roger and Joan both sat up ever-so-slightly.

The image on the television was now of reporter Jack Seuter, standing in Doctor Burrows’ way, blocking the doors to the lab.

“Doctor Burrows, we need explanations of what your research is about. Does imagination make us feel like children?”

Dr. Burrows seemed perplexed by the situation, but the answer came automatically. “Well... children’s imagination roams freely, while our imagination is blocked.”

“Right. You said yesterday that, as far as our brains are concerned, we have the same capacity to imagine as children.”

“In that regard, our brain capacity has not altered in time.”

“We still have a
child’s
imagination?” Jack Seuter tightened his gaze, as if his intensity would eke something new from the doctor.

“Indeed. Thank you very much,” Doctor Burrows tried to push forward and enter his lab.

Jack Seuter blocked the path with his body and a question, “You said that freedom, the freedom we felt as children, is only a step away.”

Doctor Burrows took a step back, clearly exasperated, and yet unable to not answer the question, “My research has shown this to be absolutely true.”

“He already said this,” Joan said, looking at Roger.

Roger waved a hand at her, telling her that he was listening.

“What do we need to do, Doctor, to take that step? What is that step?”

“Simply imagine a little bit every day.”

Joan’s eyes tried to sift the screen for more information.

“But imagining is hard,” Seuter insisted. “When I tried at home and not in your lab, my head started hurting.” Russell was now watching, as well. His head bent sideways at the last statement.

“You don’t imagine through effort,” Doctor Burrows said. “You just let your mind float.”

“If we take me as an example, I don’t feel my mind can float. I keep thinking about more headlines, about my work, about how to edit this piece, about my next pieces, and so on.”

“Right,” Roger said.

“Mmmm,” Joan said.

“Ah,” Doctor Burrows said. “Like most adults, you have barriers in your mind that prevent you from freely using your imagination. Four things block the release of the hormone,” he started counting on his fingers. “One: A feeling of time constraints or deadlines.”

“Deadlines,” Roger said. Joan didn’t react. Neither did Russell.

Dr. Burrows moved on to the next finger: “Two: A feeling of trying to appeal to someone else’s standards. You try to do what they think is good or right or proper by the standards of others. You force other people’s standards into your brain rather than having to live with your own standards.”

“Bosses,” Roger said. Joan looked at Roger, then back at the TV. Russell seemed mesmerized by Dr. Burrows.

Dr. Burrows moved on to the third finger: “Three, adopting others people’s standards and making them your own. By taking the second stage one step further, you actually step on yourself as well as your imagination to succeed or to be liked or out of duty.”

Joan looked at Roger. Roger nodded his head. Dr. Burrows continued, “Four,” he counted on his fourth finger. “Forcibly performing a task at a certain time. School, for example, always begins at the same time.” Russell nodded at this. “Doing homework or writing a paper for the university or performing tasks in your job – doing that at an arbitrary time dictated by others is doing something that forces your thoughts into a place that closes in on them.”

“Hmmm,” Roger said.

“Mmmm,” Joan said.

“One more question, Dr. Burrows.”

“No, please. I really have to go.”

“Dr. Burrows—”

“Mr. Seuter, you are a cordial man and media attention may have made my research popular, but I still need time to conduct it. I have no more time for you.” This time, when Dr. Burrows pushed on, opening the door. Jack Seuter relented, and Dr. Burrows vanished from the camera’s sight.

Roger looked at Joan. Joan looked back.

The image changed to a split screen, showing the news studio on the left side of the screen and Jack Seuter on the other side, with the dark city streets behind him.

“Well, at least you got something out of him before he left, Jack.”

“I don’t know about you, Sam, but I’m going to replay the tape and check each of those items to see what’s blocking my imagination.”

“I may well do that, Jack. I may in fact go home and try to imagine and feel like a kid. After all, Doctor Burrows says it’s only a step away.”

Jack smiled. “Indeed he did.”

“Thank you for that electrifying report, Jack. Now moving on to troubles in the Middle East—”

Roger muted the TV.

“Huh,” Roger said.

“Mmmm,” Joan said.

“Ha ha,” Russell said.

“You know what?” Joan suddenly stood up. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Roger stood up, as well.

“Because it doesn’t matter. What difference does it make to me? It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t want to know why we’re not like kids?” Roger even raised his voice a bit. “He gave you four reasons. Only four reasons. Between you and that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t. What difference does it make in
my
life? ‘Freedom is only a step away’? Are you not free now?”

“I
am
free.”

“There you go.”

“But—”

“He gave you four reasons, Roger? Four reasons?”

“Yes.”

“What are they, then? Can you name them?”

Roger thought about it and was stumped, “No.”

“There you go, then. It doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter.”

Roger nodded, and then Russell said, “
I
remember what he said.”

Both parents looked at him in surprise.

“You do?” Roger said. “What did he say?”

“He said school is bad, don’t go to school.”

“In your dreams,” Joan pushed him toward the parents’ bedroom. “Come on.”

~

Roger was looking at his regular morning show the next morning, while Joan was tending to the two kids in the bathroom.

“Listen to this,” the cheerful Sally Crawford said to her smiling partner who sat next to her on the sofa. “Something amazing happened last night.”

“Unbelievable is more like it,” seconded the always-positive Jean Sandoval.

“Ever since our report with the now notoriously famous Dr. Burrows, our favorite mad professor—You remember the report?”

“I sure do. He said, ‘Freedom is only a step away’. One of the catchiest lines I think a scientist has ever given us.”

Roger raised his head to call Joan. Hearing Rose shout in pain as her hair was being combed caused him to stop.

“Certainly in our lifetime,” agreed Jean.

“Certainly. At least that I can remember.”

“Right,” agreed Sally. “But he actually said more than that. He seems to have inadvertently given us rules about—”

“Off the cuff!”

“Without even thinking!”

“Just spurted out rules about how we can become as imaginative and free as children again.”

“Right. And the rules are about how to stop blocking ourselves.”

“Now, an amazing thing happened.”

“Absolutely unbelievable.”

“Actually two things.”

“What’s the first one?” Sally seemed genuinely intrigued.

“Almost immediately after our interview aired, someone put it up on YouTube. And within an hour, there were a hundred thousand views of that interview.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Within two hours, there were a million.”

“Unbelievable.”

“And the number has risen and risen ever since. I think it’s up to 10 million now, and it’s only just morning.”

“Well, in America it is.”

Jean looked at Sally strangely in a second, trying to understand what she said. Then she snapped out of it. “Right. And here’s the other amazing thing that happened.”

“Tell them about the fountains,” Sally urged her.

“Right. During the night, people have been gathering in the streets.”

“In. The. Streets!”

“Spontaneously.”

“Spontaneously!”

“Jumping on lamp posts, standing on walls, hollering out of windows, laughing like kids, climbing on trees,
and
,” she raised her finger. “Here’s the biggest thing.”

“The fountains?”

“The fountains!”

“People have been jumping—Tell them.”

“People have been jumping into fountains all across the city all night long.”

“All. Night. Long.”

“And people have been just coming and coming and coming.”

“Spontaneously! Completely on their own!”

“In the middle of the night!”

“Completely on their own!”

“Completely!”

“I think they’re in the hundreds now.”

“Maybe thousands.”

“We’ve got footage, don’t we? Let’s see it.”

“This is footage of the fountain right in front of city hall.”

The image changed to the City Hall Fountain, outside city hall. In what must have been the middle of the night, the fountain itself was filled with people. The camera panned to look at the fountain, and caught ten adults jumping into it from different positions. “Look at this, just look at it.”

From all directions, people seemed to independently run up to the fountain and jump into it.

“Unbelievable.”

“Look, that’s a single straight shot.”

“And yet they keep coming and coming and coming.”

“Unbelievable. I think that’s like ten people a second jumping in.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Now look what happened an hour later.”

The image changed. A hundred people stood on the edge of the fountain, holding hands. They then raised their hands in unison and hollered all at once with all their strength. A second later, they jumped together into the fountain.

“Amazing.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I have never seen anything like that.”

“Never.”

“I think it’s historical or something,” said Sally.

“I think you’re right!” Jean realized.

The image changed again. The fountain was full of dozens of adults.

“Oh, now look at this. You have to see this.”

“You have to see it.”

The image changed again. Dozens of adults in the fountain were throwing water at each other, laughing, and having fun.

“Now, remember, these are complete strangers.”

“Complete strangers.”

“And they’re all behaving like children.”

“Like children”

The image changed to a street corner in the middle of the night.

“Now look at this.”

“Oh, this is good.”

A forty-something year old man climbed on a street light as high as he could, and began yelling at the passing cars.

“When our cameraman was taking a break, he caught a sight of this man in the middle of the street behind City Hall.”

“Is he
yelling
?”

“I think he is.”

“He’s yelling!”

“And he looks happy!”

“Unbelievable.”

The image changed again to look at Jean Sandoval and Sally Crawford sitting in the pleasant surroundings of the morning show.

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