The Hubby Hold (IQ Testing Book 2) (3 page)

This was my original idea inside the red color tone, when I couldn’t sit inside the chair with it, without burning my fanny.

My time is close to the fifteen seconds time limit. I exhale then say. “My answer is…green.”

The me-chee says. “A me-chee miniature toy is priced at $100 then is marked down 30%. If Mary gets an employee discount of 20% off the sale price, how much does she pay for the toy?”

I gasp with shock. Buffo could have answered this question, easily. Rincon has lied to me, again. I fume with fury, balling my hands into fists, inside the chair.

Buffo could have advanced into the red color, then into the green color, and then into the blue color tone and finally answering the golden question. Then, we could be together and get married on Monday, like planned.

I exhale with logic. One-fourth correct answer, out of four posed questions, is one correct answer. So, I stay within the color of red, alone, without Buffo and my friends. If I answer two posed questions, correctly, for 50 percent, position value, then I stay within the color of red, also, alone. If I answer three posed questions correctly for 75 percent then I advance into the color of green with Rincon, Marsilla, Nephella, Duchie, and Lamis. If I get one answer wrong out of four questions, then I advance into the green color, assuming that I have answered the other three questions, correctly.

If I keep trying to answer the rest of the questions, hoping for 75 percent, or more, then I advance into the green color tone.

I do believe Rincon, when he says there are only four questions for the color tones of blue and green. If I, incorrectly, answer two questions wrong, then I receive 50 percent, negative. Based on the me-chee, I will descend into the previous color tone, which is orange, where Buffo plays with his new batch of friends.

I giggle with amusement. The first question is always too easy, too frequent, and too silly, being name the current color of the machine, standing inside the Cubby Hole.

Buffo got that silly question, correct, in every color tone, so he stood at 25 percent, positive, along with the rest of the teens.

The second question, within the red color tone, is too easy, also. Buffo could have answered that one for a 50 percent, positive. If I answer the second question, correctly, then I receive 50 percent, positive. So, I stay, within the red color tone, not advancing into the green, or dropping back down into the orange color tone.

I have two more questions remaining to answer within the red color tone.

If I answer the second question wrong, then I will have only 25 percent, positive. Therefore, I stay within the red color tone.

If I answer the third or fourth question wrong, then I will have 50 percent, negative. Therefore, I can drop back down into the orange color tone with Buffo. So, I find Buffo then encourage him to re-enter the chair and re-test for the red color tone.

I exhale and view the empty spot, wasting my fifteen seconds of time. I say. “100 dollars times 70 discount percent is 70 dollars. 70 dollars is the amount paid, if the toy was marked down 30 percent. The other discount of 20 percent is going to be 80 percent of the marked-down price. So, the toy price will be 70 dollars times 80 percent equals 56 dollars. My answer is…56 dollars.”

The me-chee says. “Two conducting spheres are identical, except sphere A has a charge of -16 microcoulombs and sphere B has a charge of +8 microcoulombs. After the spheres collide into contact and then separate, what is the charge on each sphere in microcoulombs?”

My heart breaks with love. I frown with my own set of raw nerve endings with both fear and disappointment. This question is a toughie hard one. So, I don’t have faith that Buffo could answer it, properly, if he was present with me inside the red color tone.

If I answer, incorrectly, the question, I’m still cool, having a total of 50 percent, positive. So, I answer the fourth question, correctly, too to advance into the green color tone.

But, if I answer the third question, correctly, then I will have the 75 percent needed to pass into the green color tone, without bothering with the fourth question.

However, Rincon had cautioned and encouraged to all of us, answer all the questions with a hundred percent rate, working your mind active for the final single difficult question, inside the gold color tone.

I view the outline of Lamis on my left side, in front of Buffo’s me-chee chair.

Inside her me-chee chair, she wiggles violently side to side, calculating the math answer inside her mind.

I view the outline of Duchie on my left side. She calmly lies still, calculating the math solution, too.

I can’t see the faces of Rincon and Marsilla, since their chairs are ahead of me, but I feel confident that they are both calm and calculating the math problem, correctly. They will, also, pass into the green color tone.

I exhale then view the far wall. I whisper. “The electric potential on the surface of the conductors is the same everywhere. If the conductors are identical, this requires an equal amount of excess charge reside on both conductors. So (+8 + (-16)) equals the net excess charge on the two spheres, which is a product of -8. Since, the charge is conserved, when the excess charge is shared with the -8, then each sphere will carry -4 microcoulombs. My answer is…negative four.”

The me-chee says. “The alkalinity of our blood is slightly basic. What is the mathematical numeric value of slightly basic acidity?”

I exhale, whispering, smiling. “The value of 10.6 is a very basic. The value of 7 is neutral. The value of 6.4 is slightly acid and 4.6 is the most acid. My answer is…7.4.”

The fabric wraps around me, when the chair shakes side to side.

I drop into darkness as my eyeballs don’t adjust. I zoom forward into the lightness then stop.

Chapter 4

Green room with mirrors

I float up into the glowing green room between the side mirrors, smoking in white steam. I blink my eyelashes from the temporary dizziness that the me-chee chair creates within my fragile little mind. My eyeballs see through the smoke as my neurons realize that someone has already touched the forward green wall, exposing the most beautiful site of colorful flowers.

I wiggle side to side with excitement, feeling much happier, since the future park places are getting nicer and prettier and brighter, not meaner and nasty, since the pink color tone. The fabric retracts into the me-chee satin cloth, releasing me into freedom.

I stand and smile, bouncing into the flower garden. My boot toe stomps and kills the pretty yellow flower standing from the ground, then my boot heel smashes and destroys a different standing pretty pink flower, behind the crunched yellow one.

The ground is literally filled with tall and short pretty rows and rows of flowers, not grass, or dirt, or soil, or plants, or bushes.

The sky is baby blue, rising into the heavens under a yellow sun, making feel so happy and glad. The sky is not blocked by tall trees or black rain clouds, either, that makes me feel joyous and content with my decision to advance into the next color chart.

The ground soil displays every type of flower, known to my brain cells in every tint, known to the color wheel, too. I cannot see the color of the soil under all the different colors of flowers. The flowers prettily grow along the ground, up the tree bark, over the wooden fences, and overlay each other. I stomp over more yellow and pink flowers then move towards the pretty rows of standing flowers and standing wooden fences, which are covered in flowers, too.

I smile and clap, seeing pretty yellow daisies, pink tulips, orange roses, purple irises, and more flora than tick-tock time available to pick and pat, a pretty arm bouquet. I squat, giggling and reaching for the pretty flower. “Awe, so cute!”

“Don’t touch it!” Rincon shouts and dashes from the opening towards Ketona. He waves his arms, yelling. “Don’t touch it!”

I nod and stand, smiling and fingering the garden of flowers. “This is the bestest park place of them all. I love flowers, all kinds of colored flowers from yellow to red to pink to white for flower arrangements, flowering vines, and white flower bouquets. Do you know why I would like a white flower bouquet?”

“Don’t touch the flowers!” Rincon cuddles Ketona, back pedaling towards the archway of the green room with the mirrors. They move away from the tree island and the flower garden, halting along the edge of the metal framework of the room.

More teens float up from the Cubby Hole and then land inside the green room, then the teens scoot out the chair, stepping outside the mirrored room, stomping all over the ground of pretty flowers, killing them. Dead.

I stand inside Rincon’s biceps, seeing the back muscles of Marsilla.

She squats and picks flowers then arranges them into her arms, creating an arm bouquet. She studies her arm bouquet then shuffles to the next section of flora. She repeats, squatting and picking new flowers for her arm bouquet.

The teens run and dash towards the bushes of flowers, getting lost inside the beautiful flower garden of roses, violets, lilies, and other types of flora. They touch and then pick the pretty objects, making flower designs.

I nod and smile, not moving and crashing the flowery ground. I wiggle inside Rincon’s arms. “This park place is very unique looking. I love the flowers, so many and so pretty. I wanna arm bouquet, like Marsilla’s.”

He fingers the object. “There’s a batch of tall trees clumped together, so tightly, that the branches and leaves are growing over each other, as the flower vines grow up into the tree leaves, and the limbs. The color of the tree clump looks almost pitch black, not allowing any foot paths through the batch of trees. I do not believe that we are invited to tour the landscape. However, the trees form a Y-shaped pattern surrounded by an inlay of foot path stones buried within the brown soil. The inlay of stones begins from the exit of the green room, in the middle of the archway, then expands directly into the tree line, where the stones split into two opposite pathways…”

Nephella emerges from the archway, moving and standing beside Ketona and Rincon. She forcefully slaps short Rincon on the collar bone, making the young petite couple wavier side to side, giggling at her wicked deed. She smiles then squats, picking three pink flowers then stands. She chuckles, burning the delicate petals with the end of the smoking cigar, nodding.

Rincon frowns with annoyance, wrapping his arms around Ketona and steadying their bodies against the semi-brutal attack from Nephella. He clears his throat. “As I was saying, one foot path goes to the right. The other goes to the left between the clumps of trees.”

I finger the flowers, giggling. “The majority of the teen run towards the left side with the bright colors of yellow, pink, orange, purple. The teens that veered towards the right side of the trees have turned around then marched back towards the left side. The left side of flowers is beautiful. Let’s go over there,” I order.

Nephella releases the burning flower stems, watching them float and burn towards the ground. She says. “Going to left for more torment and torture of little ones, ya’ll coming with me…”

“We’ll go left, too. Don’t burn all the flowers, Nephella.” I order, frowning with annoyance.

Nephella smiles and winks at Ketona, dashing towards the flowers.

I finger the flowers, wiggling side to side, but Rincon cuddles me. I say. “The left side displays numerous horizontal rows of different types of flowers. The smallest row starts with the tiny and round orange and yellow marigold flowers. The second row is taller with red round pansies, then a row of yellow daisies, then a row of white carnations, then white chrysanthemum. If I narrow my eyelashes, then I can see rows of blooming roses in different colors, too…”

Rincon smiles, viewing the rows of flowers. “I see
Dianthus caryophyllus
…”

I frown with annoyance at his nose profile. “Just say a carnation, okay? They’re used as bouquets for a special occasion, during a special time…”

He says. “The first row of ground plants flowers form into batches of orange, red, or yellow petit rounded marigold flowers. Marigold flowers are fed to chickens, giving their egg yolks a golden yellow color. Dried and ground marigold flowers are used as spice…”

“Uh, huh! Let’s go and pick me a pretty bouquet, before we have to go back into the Cubby Hole.” I pull towards the rows of flowers.

He cuddles her, saying. “Don’t touch the flowers! Flowers are part of nature. Nature should always be beautiful and blooming, like you Ketona. If we touch the flower, then the bees will not pollen that particular flower, which is covered in our human germs…”

“O! Well then, I’ll pick the flower, making it dead, then it won’t have worry about the birds and bees,” I giggle.

He grunts. “The out of control teens are running between the rows of flowers and the vine plants, like a bunch of monkeys. I do not feel like fighting them for boot space,” he fingers the left side of the trees. “I suggest we stroll along the right side. No one is present. We can have the walking path all to ourselves, admiring the flora and whispering our greatest desires to each other,” he nods, dragging Ketona along the flowery ground, killing the upright flowers. He whispers into her eardrum. “Flowers can be made into herbal teas and the floral arrangements are used to decorate the dining room tables…”

“The footpath not taken,” I giggle, narrowing my eyelashes at the short flowers. “Now, I understand completely the swift reaction of the other teens, fleeing this cold spot. The flowers are rich black colored flowers on fugly ugly plants. I’ve heard of black berries for eating, but black flowers for not picking.” I giggle, saying. “I see tiny black violas, rounded black hellebores, a batch of flowing black tulips, and finally a short row of black roses with green nasty thorns.” I giggle, reaching down to touch the rose.

Rincon jerks Ketona into his chest, cuddling then sweet breathing into her eardrum. “Don’t touch the flowers! My daddy always kept the back yard filled with tall green weeds for the rabbits, pretty colorful wildflowers for the lizards, and big orange ant hills for the birds. My backyard was a wildlife zoo.”

I frown with annoyance, studying the black flowers, when Rincon cuddles me.

He rubs and tickles her arm, smiling at her nose profile.

We stroll along the stepping stones covered in dead and dried brown flower petals.

I exhale and frown with ugliness at the ugly flowers. “I feel like I’m attending a funeral, or something sad. Ya certain, that no teens get harmed, during the Citizenship Day. Well, this ain’t no flower, it’s a black plant,” I reach down to towards the soil.

Rincon jerks Ketona into his chest, cuddling her body, sweet breathes into her eardrum. “Naw, that’s
Veratrum
species. The flower is highly toxic with sodium ion channels, causing heart failure then death. All parts of the flower are poisonous, including the roots, the pods and the stem. A person becomes nausea with vomiting, abdominal pain, numbness, headache, sweating, muscle weakness, and then seizures, before death. Some primitive cultures used the root juice to poison metal arrows, before war battle combat with their enemies, being too successful, too.”

He walks towards the section of flower, when I frown with fear. “O! That’s very useful for some dead bodies…”

“The rich black looking flowers and plants are really a deep, deep color of purple, where the outer eyeball image appears to represent the color of black.”

I eye roll, then view the blue sky, walking along the stained stone path with ugly black flowers and plants, that I can’t touch for fear of death. I narrow my eyelashes, fingering the far horizon over the blue sky, burning under the yellow sun. “Wow, I can forever. The rows of black flowers go for miles and miles deep into the sunset. I would guess about two miles or so. I think it’s going to rain, too, see the red angry skyline over there.” I finger behind the row of black flowers. “I think we should do ‘our thing’ inside the pretty park place and leave, here. Remember, the vicious rainstorm inside the orange color tone with white lightning and loud thunder.”

“Yes, I agree. We should cut our footpath walking quickly and find out what we need do to return back into the Cubby Hole. This is the green color tone. I’m so nervous and excited. We both have one more blue color tone then will be competing in the gold circle.”

I view the sky then the flowers, stopping. “It changed color. I mean, the new section of flowers is brown colored, instead of black. What does that mean, Rincon?”

Rincon drags her further down the pathway, saying. “I believe, this is ‘our thing’ to observe the flowers, since they display in different colors and shapes. This particular flower is called
Fincinia spiralis…

I frown at him. “How da ya know the scientific names of the strange and ugly flora?”
He smiles and nods, cuddling and tickling her rib cage from the deadly flowers. “My daddy and I visited the country side. Then I was required to learn the scientific name, like your fish aquarium.”

I nod and study the flower, giggling with his tickles on my body then frown with disgust. “A spiral shape in numerous tight clusters of dark brown flowers, presenting in ugly, again.”

We slide to the next section of flora.

I frown and say. “A ground covering of dark brown flowers with short fuzzy stem…”

“
Rhynchospora californica
…”

We slide over to the next section.

I smile. “It looks like a chocolate lily. Is it poisonous, or toxic, too?”

He drags her from the flower, shaking his curls. “No, but, do not touch it. Mother Nature would greatly appreciate it. The next section of flowers is
Eremophila fraseri
…”

“A bush of low ground shrubbery of tiny brown leaves.”

He chuckles, saying. “The flower is called
Pomaderris hamiltonii
…”

I frown with annoyance. “A short little short tree with tiny brown leaves.”

“They are brown pale flowers on the little tree plus brown leaves, too.”

I finger the tree, without touching it, saying. “They are ugly tiny brown flowers on a short tiny tree about four feet tall. How can flowers be pale brown, like these?”

We walk down the path.

I stop, narrowing my eyelashes, viewing the horizon. “Ya know, the rows of black flowers form a perfect triangle, and then the rows of brown flowers form a backward triangle. Is that a significant event inside this park place, Rincon?”

He exhales, studying the flowers. “I concur. I am clearly seeing a triangle within both sets of flowers, within their rows and rows of flowers,” he drags her to the new section of flowers. “I suggest, we continue our stroll around the clump of trees then return into the green room of mirrors. Our stroll might deactivate the park place then drop us back into the Cubby Hole.”

I shrug with disappointment, not being able to create a pretty arm bouquet of picked flowers, within the green color tone. Buffo always picked flowers for me, anywhere and anytime.