Junior thought back to when his sister was a boy. They both wore shorts and chased each other around, playing tag. Mom was adamant that a child with a girlish body should be raised to be a woman. So his little brother became a little sister. Sis seemed fine with it. After dressing as a girl for a while, her body was much softer looking than before. Thanks to no small effort on her part.
‘Where’s Mom?’
Nothing else to do, Junior paced around the room.
‘Isn’t she getting dressed?’
‘What’s taking her so long?’
‘Hellooo! When women go out, it takes them a long time to get ready.’
‘But all she has to do is change her clothes, comb her hair, and put on a little make-up.’
‘That’s not the point…’
‘Well, what else is there?’
‘I dunno… but Moms have a lot of stuff to do, like all the time.’
Families depend on every member acting out their roles. Junior went back to his room. He lay down on his bed and put on a tape. Pretty soon, he nodded off.
It took Mom two and a half days to get ready.
The four of them left the house carrying baskets and ther-moses. What a clear, gorgeous night it was.
‘Aren’t we driving?’
‘Then it wouldn’t be a picnic, dummy.’
They strolled along, buildings towering on either side.
It would appear this city had no residents but them. The windows shone a secretive blue. The buildings were dark inside, cloaked in quietude. Far off in the distance, a steady humming could be heard. Automated switches flicking on and off. Following the curving road, the mercury lamps looked like a string of race cars.
‘The view is awful over here,’ Dad whispered.
‘Don’t people usually go on picnics to enjoy the scenery?’ Sis asked her brother.
‘They go to fields and hills and stuff. Places with big trees.’
‘But isn’t it unsafe to leave the city?’
Mom turned, eyeing them anxiously.
Not a single one of them had any memory of being outside the city, but somehow, they shared an understanding of what the world outside the city looked like.
It ended abruptly. Rather than a gradual thinning of the buildings, there was a stark line at the edge, as if the whole metropolis had been sliced out from somewhere else and plopped down on this planet. Like the family, it came across as woefully isolated. They had no idea when this city came to be. Settlers from Earth had built this settlement, and for one reason or another fled or all but died out, leaving the few perseverant souls from whom they were descended. At least, as Dad would have it.
Outside the city, hills and fields stretched off into the distance, where prowled the blue-black monsters. Thick bristles on their crowns and backs, squat-legged creatures they. Trotting about on their hind legs. Their front legs were brawny; black claws grew from their fingertips. They appeared to be indifferent to the presence of this Earthling clan.
Though none of them had ever seen one of the monsters, they knew how they looked and behaved. Inexplicably. The monsters subsisted on tree nuts and were exceedingly benign. Or perhaps not benign, Dad told them once, so much as indolent. It was unclear whether they were napping or slacking off. Hence, they could not be human. Human beings, he said, were supposed to lead orderly lives. Their family being a prime example.
‘Dad,’ asked Mom, ‘did you read the morning paper?’
‘Yeah, Dad answered solemnly. He was the one who had insisted they read the newspaper, to ‘keep up with the Joneses’. A person who neglects to read the news each morning is a bum, like those who fail to pay their cable bill. But then again, they only used the TV to watch tapes. So who cares about the cable bill. It’s not like there were any stations anyway. The newspaper, however, was indispensable. The fact that there was no newspaper company was no excuse.
Using articles from magazines and old newspapers, Dad made his own gazette. Each night before bed, he pushed the shuffle button. If he was too punctilious with the selection, it would spoil the surprise. And he made sure to set the postometer accordingly, so that the paper landed in the mailbox at 5 a.m. each morning.
‘Anything good?’
Mom had no interest in the news but let on like she cared.
‘Price of wheat’s gone up.’
‘Again? That’s the sixth time this month.’
Her response was artificial, and why not? The articles were artificial too. All that mattered was that they went through the motions.
‘It plateaued for a while, though.’ Dad was being difficult. ‘Look, I’ve been giving it some thought.’
He crossed his arms and watched their son and daughter, who were now a little ways ahead.
‘I think it’s time we built a house.’
‘Why is that? What’s wrong with where we’re living now?’
‘We can’t stay there forever. The only plus about that place is that we’re settled in. It’s been too long already. We need to resist the temptation of perpetual convenience, every corner spick and span. Human beings only grow through hardship. Building a house is a man’s life’s work.’
‘Where will we go?’
Mom figured why not ask. She knew it was ridiculous, but when he got like this, she had to do her best to play along.
‘Where? That’s why we’re here… to find the perfect spot.’
She wouldn’t dream of living outside the city. Besides, Dad had no clue how to build a house.
‘I will avoid a casual approach to life at any cost.’ But Dad immediately qualified himself, to smooth things over. ‘I simply don’t want us to wind up the butt of the joke. When people behave shamefully, their children follow suit. Children only notice when their parents make mistakes. One false move, and pretty soon they’re… You know, whatever you call it.’
Dad flapped his hand impatiently.
‘Delinquents?’
‘Right, right. In no time flat. Who knows why, but kids love being delinquent.’
He was emphatic, though not exactly sure what being a delinquent entailed. It sounded like something from the newspaper, but then again, he was the newspaper.
‘I blame it on the motorcycles.’
‘Damn straight. Great point, Mom. That’s the problem. Motorcycles and cars!’
‘But they already have both. They made them with the replicator.’
‘Hmm, I don’t like the sound of this. We’ll have to figure out a subtle way of talking sense into them. Discipline is all about taking the right approach.’
They continued down the deserted street.
‘How much further?’
Junior produced his comb and ran it through his hair, making a ducktail at the back of his neck. He took care to ensure that the hair met in a vertical line. A solitary bang fell across his forehead. I got this, he told himself. I am the coolest cat.
Sis wore an evening gown with a lengthy train. The proper attire for going out at night. She knew the deal. She had debated wearing something disco-formal, but it’s not like they were going to a disco, so she gave up on that idea. Someday, though, she hoped to see a disco, at least once, but Dad refused to let her go. He called them dens of ill repute. Thanks to him, she never got to go where all the groovy kids were at. Wherever that was.
‘Hey, we’re not leaving town, are we?’ asked Sis.
‘Uh, actually, I think we are,’ said Junior.
He popped the collar of his button-down shirt, just for show. Maybe he should untuck the front.
‘I wish there were an ocean nearby. Seaside highways are so dreamy.’
She was thinking of a scene from one of the videos.