But that which is artifice occupies a precarious position in the world of nature. Artificial things, particularly those on the scale and complexity of the space shuttle, or of the levee system of the Mississippi, are manufactured at great cost, and must be maintained with great vigilance. Their existence is dependent on the continuation of the conditions under which they were designed. The space shuttle Challenger was destroyed when one of its systems was unable to react with sufficient flexibility to an unseasonable frost. The levee system, on the other hand, was built with the understanding that two things would remain constant. It was understood that flood waters would not rise much higher than they had in the past, and that the land on which the levees were built would not move of its own accord. If either of these constants were removed, the levee system would not be able to prevent nature from returning to the highly artificial landscape which the levees were built to preserve.
The first of these constants was violated regularly. The epic flood of 1927 made obsolete the entire levee system, which was reengineered, the levees being built higher, wider, and with greater sophistication. The flood of 1993 again sent water to a record crest right at the juncture of the Mississippi and the Missouri, and briefly threatened to make St. Louis an island. The inevitable result was a greater commitment to reinforced levees.
The second constant, the requirement that the earth not move, had not been tested. Though such a test, as history showed, was inevitable.
INLYNE: i’m just bummin because i haven’t got anyplace to sk8.
DOOD S: Im almost the only aggressive sk8r here.
Where, Jason typed, is here?
He was almost holding his breath. Assuming that Dood S was female, which was likely if the online handle was intended to be pronounced “dudess,” Jason might have found himself a potential girlfriend. So far Jason discovered that he and Dood S were the same age. They agreed on bands, on skate brands, and on the study of history (“sux”). They were both reasonably advanced skaters. They could royale and soyale, they could backside and backslide, they could miszou, they could phishbrain and Frank Sinatra. They were both working on perfecting various alley oop maneuvers, but Dood S was making more progress because she, or possibly he, had a place to skate.
The answer flashed on the screen.
DOOD S: Shelby Montana.
INLYNE: Bummer.
Jason’s answer was heartfelt.
DOOD S: Where RU?
INLYNE: Cabells Mound, Missouri.
DOOD S: Where is that?
Good question, Jason thought.
Between Sikeston and Osceola, he typed, feeling sorry for himself. If he were feeling better about living here, he might have mentioned St. Louis and Memphis.
DOOD S: hahahahaha Im sorry.
INLYNE: Me too.
Jason heard the door slam downstairs. His mom must be home.
RU a girl? he typed. Flirtation was fairly useless if they lived a thousand miles away from each other, but what the hell. He was lonely. It never hurt to stay in practice.
DOOD S: Cant U tell?
Your pixels look female to me is what Jason wanted to type, but he couldn’t quite remember how to spell “pixel,” so he typed, I think you are a girl.
DOOD S: Im 85 and Im a peddofile hahahahahaha. Want to meet me in the park little boy?
INLYNE: Very funny.
This was not lightening Jason’s mood. He heard his mother’s footsteps on the front stair, and turned as she passed by the door. She was wearing jeans and a tank top. Her cheeks glowed, and there was a sheen of sweat on her chest and throat.
“Hi,” Jason said. “Have fun?”
“It was exhilarating!” she said. “I really felt actualized this time! I could feel the energies rising from the mound!”
“Great,” Jason said.
Catherine Adams was tall and trim and blonde. One of Jason’s friends had once described her as a babe, which had startled him. He hadn’t thought of his mother in those terms. But once it was pointed out to him, he had realized to his surprise that she was, indeed, an attractive woman. At least compared to the mothers of most of his friends.
Catherine walked into the room, her drum balanced on her hip. “Talking to your friends?” Her voice was husky from chanting.
“Yes.” He turned and saw Dood S’s last statement.
Dont mind my jokes hahahahaha Im toking as Im typing.
Jason looked at the screen and concluded that this really wasn’t his day. Catherine looked over his shoulder at the screen and he could hear a frown enter her voice. “Is this anyone I know?”
“No,” Jason said. He was tempted to say, He’s a pedophile in Montana, but instead said, “Someone I just met. Some little town in Montana. Don’t worry, she’s not going to sell me any grass.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Catherine said. There was an ominous degree of chill finality in her tone.
“Right,” Jason said.
About 8 o’clock, a fifth shock was felt; this was almost as violent as the first, accompanied with the usual noise, it lasted about half a minute: this morning was very hazy and unusually warm for the season, the houses and fences appeared covered with a white frost, but on examination it was found to be vapour, not possessing the chilling cold of frost: indeed the moon was enshrouded in awful gloom.
Supper was not a good experience. Jason ate chicken soup left over from the weekend and day-old homemade bread while his mother quizzed him on the temptations of the Internet. “You spend too much time online,” she said.
“My friends are online,” Jason said. “It’s cheaper than calling them long distance.”
“You need to make new friends here,” Catherine said. “Not hang out with druggies on your computer.”
“I can’t get high online,” Jason pointed out. He could feel anger biting off his words. “I was just waiting in the chat room for Abie and Colin. I can’t ask everyone in the chat room whether they do drugs before I talk to them.”