They arrived at a plaza, theatres on all sides. Fountain in the middle. All the lights were out.
‘Hey, what happened here? It’s usually so spectacular.’
‘Late at night, they turn the lights off.’
‘What time you think it is?’
‘Hard to say,’ said Junior. ‘Besides, clocks are bogus. I even get the feeling that time flows differently depending on what part of the city you’re in.’
He stuffed his hands into his pockets.
‘We left early in the evening, though. And we haven’t walked for very long.’
‘Now that you mention it, yeah.’
Lately, he’d been losing confidence in how to live his life. Some days he had no idea what to do with himself. Especially when time started expanding and contracting. That really screwed him up. Seeing the sun go down while he was still working on his morning coffee was deeply upsetting. If he sat up doing nothing all hours of the night, his parents scolded him, saying night was for sleeping. When he said he wasn’t sleepy, they told him to pretend. Anything else would be indecent. He wasn’t to be doing anything disgraceful to society.
He had no idea what they meant by ‘society’. What did they mean? Whenever he asked, his parents screamed, ‘You’ve got no common sense! At your age, shouldn’t you have some common sense already?’
So he waited for his common sense to arrive on its own. He’d been waiting for a while now. No sign of it anywhere.
Junior worried all the time. (Books told him growing up was about agony and doubt. So maybe this was how it was supposed to be.)
He sat down beside his sister.
‘Hey, do you think time is made up?’
Sis looked at him.
‘Anywhere there’s no people,’ he said, ‘there’s no such thing as time. It’s something people made up, out of convenience. To impose order on events.’
‘What about history? We’re trying to find out what really happened. When and how human beings made it here. Don’t you want to know what it was like when they first arrived?’
‘These days, I’m not sure I really care about that anymore. Feels immaterial.’
‘Watch what you’re thinking, boy.’
Dad called to him from the bench where he sat.
‘Enough. Quit jabbering.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, son. Why do you think we read books and watch videos? To learn about the way of life of those who came before us. That’s why. They offer us a clear example of how to live life right. We must keep on the straight and narrow. If we go astray, we’re toasted.’
‘I think each person should live life how they like.’
‘That’s immaturity for you. At your age, you should be going to school, drowning in homework. You should be thankful for being spared that fate… Though life would be a whole lot easier for me if there were a school around here. And for you too. On Earth, they had something called entrance exams.’
‘I know.’
‘It would do you good to have an outlet for your youthful vigour. Burning your glory days on tests – ah, that takes me back!’ Dad spread his arms theatrically. ‘That’s what being young is all about! Testing your mettle. The satisfaction of giving it your all. The beauty!’
‘You want me to be some kind of clean-cut poster boy?’ ‘What else is youth good for?’
‘No thanks. Sounds pretty lame. Lately, I’ve been doubting the advisability of giving anything your all.’
‘I’m saying this for your own good, son. Your folks would not mislead you. So listen up.’
‘Is that why you’re having me create a history of Earthlings, in place of sending me to school? Why do you care so much about history and time, anyway?’
‘Have you gone rotten, boy? So, you think you can get away with being a delinquent, huh? Bad kids always spout the same blatherskite.’
‘Listen to your father. You’ll regret this one of these days. It’s like the saying goes: there’s no use holding a village at the family grave. Once we’re dead, it’ll be too late.’
‘Don’t you mean vigil?’
‘Same difference. You little brat.’
Junior shut his mouth.
He understood the problem, however tenuously. His parents were uncomfortable with playing Earthlings on this foreign planet. In an effort to conceal their discomfort, they obsessively adhered to social customs, codes of behaviour. Since they were unsure of what, exactly, was the best way for an Earthling to behave, they held themselves and their children to impossible ideals. Their pursuit of the history of their ancestors, too, was a function of their desire for peace of mind.
‘Are you a bad boy now?’ asked Sis. ‘Just a few days ago, weren’t you a goody two-shoes?’
She asked this sincerely (not as an accusation).
‘That’s right. I find it pretty odd myself. While Mom was getting ready to go out, I started thinking about time. After two and a half days of thinking, I realized the idea of linear time does no one any good. If all that matters is survival.’
‘I only took an hour. Is your head screwed on okay?’ Mom, who was wearing a neckerchief for the excursion, shook her head with vigour.
This got Junior thinking. What if I’m the only one unstuck from time?
‘Hold on, dear. I think that’s going too far.’
‘You’re probably right. I only want our children to be safe. Sometimes I get carried away…’
Mom giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Then she looked up at her family and gave them a command, in a voice honeyed with enthusiasm. ‘Forget I said anything. Let’s eat.’
The monsters were huddled together, flank to flank, asleep. The cushy undergrowth provided matchless bedding. A sweet smell wafted from the earth, but the sensual aroma of the trees was overpowering. The beasts were fast asleep, without a care.
Except for two.
Eyes open to the night, they pondered time and the liberty of other living things.
The Earthling family chomped their sandwiches in silence. Before they swallowed their first bites, dawn visited the planet.
‘Hey, what’s going on? This can’t be.’
‘What did I tell you? Don’t forget to bring your watch,’ Mom said. ‘Who knows what ungodly hour we left the house.’
She nudged Dad with her elbow.
‘This can’t be happening.’
Dad’s jaw dropped.
‘Can’t? It’s happening, alright, clear as day. What now?’
‘I don’t see why we can’t picnic during the day,’ said Sis.
She ate her sandwich beatifically.
‘Don’t point fingers at me,’ Mom snapped. ‘Your father’s the one who picked the time.’
‘I wanted it to be like in that movie, Picnic on the Night.’
Dad hadn’t a leg to stand on.
‘Isn’t it Picnic on the Battlefield?’ Junior interjected.
‘Don’t talk back, you little shit!’ Mom said. ‘If we wanted to do that, we’d have to march off into a warzone! Do you realize how hard it is to find a proper battle in this day and age? Of course you don’t. Because you don’t know anything. You’re confused.’
Mom was borderline hysterical.
‘Isn’t there a Picnic on Nearside, too?’
Sis looked at the faces of her family members. None of them seemed to know what she was talking about.
‘Oh well. Let’s go home.’
Dad spoke with much chagrin. They took their leave.
Something scurried by and stole their picnic basket. A girl. She glanced back at them from the entrance to a theatre. Fulgurous eyes and hair of gold had she.
‘Hey, what gives!’ Dad yelled. ‘That’s ours.’
‘My cutwork napkins are in there!’ Mom cried. ‘Don’t let her get away with that.’
The girl slung the basket over her shoulder and darted off. She was fast. The family pursued.