The Blog of a Chronic Content Creator
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The mountains lit up brighter than theyâd seen in weeks. Bouncing colors flitting from peak to peak. The sky seemed lighter than usual, the world seemed to be in a state of activity, if that could exist. It was noticed by each member of the small group, spurring discussion. Continue reading “Chapter 24: Camp”
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The three ladies didnât say much for a long time after they heard G-maâs theory. While it wasnât the only possible explanation for the place they had come to know as a reluctant home, it was one that seemed to make sense.
A number of realizations would wash over each of them over the next few days, with each reacting to it in their own way. The first realization was that they were, and likely would remain, permanently trapped in this space. All hope of going back to their previous lives was lost. After all, itâs not like the mind has a backdoor that allows one to grab onto the spinal cord and ride it like a firemanâs poll, or perhaps a front door that lets one slip out of the mouth. No, they existed as incorporeal beings in the mind of a 12 year old girl. A 12 year old girl that they knew well and felt sympathy and even love toward, but nevertheless, a 12 year old girl keeping them prisoner.
They knew rationally that she hadnât tried to do it on purpose. They knew that she had simply made a copy of them in her mind in the flash of a moment. Their personality and persona had split off from them at that point, and now a version of each of them lived here, while the other half (or majority, perhaps), was off living their life. Up until this point, none of the three victims would have described their life as 100% fulfilling – each had her own regrets – but theyâd always banked on the fact that if there was a life of theirs to live, theyâd be living in it. Yes, they might have died, but nothing in their existence ever prepared them to live stuck behind while the rest of them enjoyed the world. This feeling of being ârobbedâ of a future outside Julie McKayâs mind deeply impacted all of them, with G-ma showing the most visible signs of distress.
G-ma had always been totally enthralled by Mrs. Corumâs stories about Julie, just as any grandmother might be. The love she had for her granddaughter was palpable and real, as was the guilt she felt when she thought she might have abandoned her in this place or back at home. Finding out that all of this time she was likely within Julieâs mind confused her emotions greatly. On one hand, she was able to spend time with someone she could not spend enough time with as a little girl. On the other hand, she had no choice in the matter. It nagged at G-ma that perhaps Julie could tell what she now thought, and while her thoughts in the past focused on how sorry she was to Julie, her thoughts now focused more and more on how angry she was at her situation. Not angry at Julie, per say, but angry at the situation she found herself in. G-ma loved Julie in the real world, but did G-ma love Julie when trapped in her mind?
Mrs. Corum, on the other hand, did not seem to miss her life as much as G-ma or Sara Beth. She was a woman nearly ready to retire, ready to move on to a new part in her life, and frankly, scared at what might come in the future. Here she lived a life without pain, without need, and without want (for the most part). She had friends in G-ma and Sara Beth, and while she supposed she might have wanted to travel during her senior years, this was a place like no other that any of her friends had seen. Aside from the periodic rainstorm, it was a pretty vacation spot.
Sara Beth felt robbed for sure, but had no idea what she necessarily was being robbed of, and G-ma and Mrs. Corum did their best not to dwell on it in front of the girl. At age 12, your reality is school and free time. You donât yet find a huge interest in sex, or career plans, or family plans. You simply go to school and then you do whatever you find fun. For Sara Beth, she didnât have to worry about school any longer (a good thing for a 12 year old), and she had all the time she could want to have fun (also a good thing). She had friends (G-ma, Mrs. Corum, and Sonic), and a pretty good imagination, to occupy herself. The only thing she ever knew she missed were her parents and family. And she wished for new friends close to her age. However she figured that over time they might arrive – after all, her host, Julie, was also 12, and likely would meet more friends over the next few years. Perhaps over time this place would get filled up with dozens of people Sara Beth could meet. And she didnât have to worry about her pet dying, ever, which was pretty cool.
One day, shortly after G-maâs theory, Sara Beth remembered something that might be important. They figured that they were near the beginning of June, if the dimming roughly corresponded to when Julie went to sleep. Naps could be explained by shorter than usual dims. Mrs. Corum had mentioned that her birthday was June 1, and she used the opportunity in her class to have a communal birthday party for all of her students, rather than have small celebrations all year. Julie had mentioned to Sara Beth that she was looking forward to this party way back in April. Mrs. Corum apparently threw a bit of a blowout that students would hear about all year. Slyly sneaking in educational experiences, Mrs. Corum could justify an entire day of fun, in which kids would learn math through buying and selling candy, learn reading through classroom-wide book scavenger hunts, learn social studies by electing a Birthday Manager, and learn science by dissecting birthday cake. The students didnât even care that they were tricked into learning on this day, it was just fun to spend a whole day at a massive birthday party.
The three women realized that Julie would likely feel really happy that day, and that perhaps it would match up with the types of events going on in Julieâs mind. One morning, shortly after dim, G-ma felt a sudden onset of warmth. Realizing that this might be important, since Julie often called G-ma before special days as part of a ritual sheâd done since childhood, all three began watching for signs of happiness, whatever that may be.
A few hours later, Mrs. Corum began to feel the warmth that G-ma had described. Perhaps this meant that Julie was in class and happy about something her teacher had done. Further evidence came when the sky turned a slight hue of blue, instead of itâs usual ashy gray appearance. It wasnât the same copperish tone theyâd seen before the earthquakes, and in deed, no earthquake came.
Toward the end of the day, the warm feeling left Mrs. Corum and came to Sara Beth, and oddly, little Sonic too – he spread out on his back and looked up toward the sky, with what you would swear was an expression of bliss.
After that day, it seemed to make sense that what they felt internally had something to do with what Julie felt. They wondered if the connection might go the other way, but didnât dare try it. They didnât want to accidentally hurt Julie, and bring about another earthquake, rain, or even a flood. And they began to fear what might happen if their counterparts in the real world hurt Julie – would it be taken out on them like some mystical voodoo doll of the mind. What if G-ma didnât come through with the handmade gift she said she would on Julieâs next birthday? What if Mrs. Corum assigned a lower than expected mark? What if Sara Beth got angry again. What if Sonic pricked her? In an ironic twist, in a state that should ease the mind, given the fact that no pain was present in it, the threat of pain became a principal worry.
In addition to the worry the three women had of how Julie would treat them, came the realization that, if this situation wasnât unique to Julie, they may have treated others in the same ways in the past.
G-ma began to wonder if that moment she so tenderly burned into her mind, of Edgar waiting for her at the end of the church aisle, might have captured a 20 year old Edgar forever in her mind. Certainly she could picture him clearly when she was on Earth, perhaps because she had him locked away in the vault of memories. And while she didnât talk about it to the others, she suspected they realized that they might also have housed copies of their friends and family in their consciousness. Maybe this is why memories became so hard to recall when in this place. All of the years she had known Edgar, sheâd had him mentally walking around her brain. A brain that presumably still belonged to the other G-ma in the real world. The copy G-ma, while able to think about things, didnât have the advantage of copy Edgar, thus it took her longer to remember his existence than it otherwise would have. She felt a bit of relief after 2 years of guilt – after all, one doesnât take it lightly that one forgot about their spouse for 6 years.
Small talk dominated those first few days, while the ladies sat, walked, or paced with nothing of importance to say. Too much to come to grip with. Too much to think about in such a short span of time for some of them. Mrs. Corum and Sara Beth had been there less than a month still, G-maâs extra time, though, did not seem to help her come to grips with it all any easier than the rest.
âWhat do we do nowâ, Sara Beth asked.
The ladies were out for a walk. Growing tired of exploring, they were going to go back to G-maâs original spot so G-ma could show Sara Beth her air knitting, describing the pieces that sheâd done over her years of captivity.
âWe keep walking until we get there, dearâ, G-ma said with a smile.
But the time for small talk was over for Sara Beth, and she asked the question again.
âNo, I know what weâre doing right now⌠what do we do now that we know where we areâ.
âI donât think we can do muchâ, Mrs. Corum said.
âAnd the things we could do, we donât know what the effect of them would beâ, G-ma added.
âAm I going to grow older?â, Sara Beth asked.
It was a good question, one that neither Mrs. Corum or G-ma gave much thought to. The only one who had been here long enough to notice any signs of aging was G-ma, and she looked as befuddled as the rest.
âDear, when you get to be my age, you kind of stop updating your mental pictureâ, she began, âRight now, you can probably close your eyes and imagine what you look like. Go ahead, give it a tryâ.
They women stopped, and Sara Beth gave it a go.
âDescribe yourselfâ, G-ma said.
Sara Beth proceeded to describe herself, with good detail and accuracy – the other two women congratulated her on doing something she felt was not necessarily a big deal. Then G-ma completed her point.
âDear, when I do that same thing⌠when I close my eyesâ, G-ma paused and closed her eyes, âI see a beautiful young woman in her mid-20s, bouncing all around the house getting things ready for her husband to come home. I see myself wearing my favorite house dress, the one that caused Edgar to be unable to keep his hands off of me when he came homeâ Spying the look of confusion or perhaps something else in Sara Bethâs eyes, G-ma quickly clarified âHeâd hug me every day when he got home, and weâd eat dinner and talk about our plans. I see that woman when I close my eyes. Then I open them and look down at my hands, and realize that Iâm not that woman anymore, no matter how hard I try to be. So you see, Dear, I donât know if Iâve aged. I may have, but if I have, Iâve tried to block it out as best as I couldâ.
The three women smiled and chuckled at the last comment.
âAnd even if you had noticed changes in appearance, the biggest way we know our age is really the minor aches and pains!â, Mrs. Corum added, âAnd we have none of those anymore. So not only do I see myself as a young person in their mid 20âs, I feel like it too!â.
âSubtle benefits of this place!â, G-ma said with a laugh.
âWell thatâs great for the two of you, but Iâd like to see my mid 20âs. Iâm still as short as I was in third grade. I want to grow taller, I want to be mature⌠I want to have children⌠and a family⌠and more than thisâ. Sara Beth collapsed into a heap, with Sonic and his ball at her side. G-ma and Mrs. Corum sat next to her. Theyâd been wondering when sheâd have her first breakdown over being in this place. Up until then, she would get sad and worried, but they could tell that this time she could actually appreciate the situation that she was in. This time she was realizing just what would happen to her, or in reality, what wouldnât happen.
âThere thereâ, G-ma said as she wrapped her arms around Sara Beth.
âDear, you may not have grown taller, but youâve definitely matured since you got here.â
The day after Sara Bethâs breakdown, the group decided to explore a new direction they hadnât been to before. The older women felt it might be good for Sara Beth, and perhaps them as well. After all, this place held secrets that it seemed could be revealed at any time. Prior to Mrs. Corumâs arrival, it had never rained. Prior to Sara Bethâs arrival, the sky had never been anything other than gray, let alone blueish as it was on the day of the birthday party. Perhaps theyâd meet a new friend, or discover a new land.
What they found, however, was a new phenomenon, one that would prove to be very beneficial while also very dangerous at the same time.
The trio (plus Sonic in his ball) wandered toward the unchartered lands. While they knew something was off in the distance in one direction, they decided time would be available to look into it later. Instead they went in the opposite direction, perpendicular to Mrs. Corumâs & G-maâs spots. The horizon appeared utterly usual in its appearance, making it all the more attractive. Perhaps it held something that could not be seen from a distance.
As they got around 8 hours from where they started, they happened along an unusual formation of ground. Whereas ground in Julieâs mind tended to be lumpy, but seldom had hills or valleys, this almost looked like a steep drop. It lasted but a few feet, with a small hill on either side. Sara Beth decided that she and Sonic would roll down to the bottom, while G-ma and Mrs. Corum walked about 20 feet away, along the side of the ridge where it wasnât as steep. When the three of them met up at the bottom of the hill, they realized something was different.
âI feel warmâ, G-ma said.
âMe tooâ, Mrs. Corum replied.
âYeah, me tooâ, chimed in Sara Beth. Perhaps Sonic was too, but he wasnât talking.
âItâs different than on the day of the birthday – itâs not as pointed toward meâ, G-ma said.
âDo you think Julie is thinking good thoughts about all of us at the same time?â, Sara Beth asked.
âI doubt itâ, replied Mrs. Corum, âIt wasnât often sheâd see all 3 of us together at the same time in her daily life. But now that you mention it, today might have been important to her. Itâs around 5 days after my birthday party – that should put it around the last day of school. Perhaps Julie is just generally happy.â
âNo, this is more intense than her usual happinessâ, G-ma said. âPrevious years Iâd felt warmth at different times, times I now think were probably major milestones in my Julieâs life – perhaps her first day of school, her birthday, and others. But this is so much more widespread and intense.â
As the three stood and marveled, they had another realization.
âI donât want to leaveâ, Mrs. Corum said.
âNeither do Iâ, Sara Beth replied.
G-ma stood there with her mouth slightly agape, as if she was experiencing something akin to joy for the first time in many months. The others looked at her as they realized a ray of light had enveloped her. They looked up at the sky and saw the most amazing sight – something that looked like the sun was peaking through grey walls. It had caught G-ma.
âDo you think we should do something about this?â, Sara Beth asked.
Mrs. Corum wasnât sure. As she started to speak, the ray shifted, and now enveloped both her and G-ma.
âHey⌠you two⌠HEYâŚ.â, Sara Beth called. With every ounce of her being, she withdrew from the little valley. The feeling as she stepped back out of it was cold, almost as though sheâd just taken a freezing shower. Within a few minutes, the feeling passed, however she had to fight the urge to step back inside the warm space of the valley. She watched as her two friends stay there, transfixed at the sun.
âIâll just wait until it dimsâ, She told Sonic. âOnce it dims, theyâll break free and come out with meâ.
But Sara Beth knew this was a long shot. Somehow she knew that the longer one stayed inside the valley, the harder it was to leave. Within a few minutes, she realized she needed to come up with a plan.
âIâve got itâ, she proclaimed to Sonic, as she put his tether down. She walked about 50 feet away from the sharp gradient and began to run. As she got to the top of the grade, she took a leap, propelling her out away from the hillside and down into the valley. She landed squarely on G-ma and Mrs. Corum, before all three of them were pushed out of the light and back to the outskirts of the valley.
Immediately both Mrs. Corum and G-ma got up and began walking back toward the sun. Sara Beth needed to act fast. She quickly ran out of the valley to grab Sonicâs tether, which she then took and tied to the legs of her friends. Thankfully they did not move too quickly! Again moving a few feet away, she began to run toward the end of the tether, snatching it as she passed and toppling G-ma and Mrs. Corum as she dragged them from the valley. The three sit outside the valley, as the world dimmed. But to Sara Bethâs amazement, the sun beams never went away. They stayed there, bright and beaming.
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Hi Everyone – before we get into Part 6, I just wanted to thank those who have been reading the novel so far. I’ve come up with a name for it – “Cinereous”. I hope that you’re enjoying the book so far. This chapter clears up a few big questions, and asks a few more. Remember, in the end we’ll be at 30 chapters, so we’re getting a decent way in, but there is a lot more to come! If you have a chance, shoot me a message on Twitter (@jonwestfall) or leave a comment!
Best,
Jon.
Shooting up like a bolt of lightning had hit her, Mrs. Corum blurted out âI think I know youâ, toward Sara Bethâs general direction.
G-ma and Sara Beth were taken aback. Theyâd been together for about a week at that point, and had decided, mutually, that theyâd spend most of the dim hours in silence. The only time this place didnât mess with how you thought was when you could devote 100% of your attention to thinking, and so minimizing distraction was the goal. The only one who didnât get the memo was Sonic, who from time to time would move around in his ball and require Sara Beth to pull him out and cradle him for a bit.
Sara Beth looked toward Mrs. Corum, subtly asking if she was talking to her.
âYes, Sara Beth, I think I know you, or rather, I knew you, in the past, before this place.â
Theyâd been over a number of common questions in the previous week. The only thing they hadnât done was an exhaustive listing of names. Sara Beth lived in the next town over from G-ma, and Mrs. Corum lived slightly north. They didnât see any immediate connection. G-ma and Mrs. Corum had mentioned their shared link in Julie, yet Sara Beth hadnât recognized the name. So again they launched into a long discussion about where they may have crossed paths.
âAnd the daycare center, Other Worlds, was where I met my best friendâ, Sara Beth began, telling the story of the last day she could remember away from this place.
ââOther Worldsâ,â Mrs. Corum began, âI remember I had a few students who mentioned that place. Seems like an ironic name for all three of us to be saying given where we are right now!â They all laughed at the ludicrous observation. The people at âOther Worldsâ werenât thinking of this place when they themed their classrooms and common spaces in foreign and space landscapes! I visited a few times when Iâd drop students off at the request of their parentsâ.
Sara Beth then began the retelling of the fight between herself and her best friend, and both G-ma and Mrs. Corum took more interest than in the past – actively asking questions of things they didnât understand. They both supposed that when Sara Beth had originally been found, with this as one of the first stories theyâd heard, they didnât think of it as critically as they might now, a week later. At the time all they knew was that a frightened little girl was upset, and had been more interested in her emotional wellbeing than the facts of the story.
âSara Bethâ, G-ma started, âWhat was your best friendâs name?â
Sara Beth looked a bit sheepish, and G-ma knew instantly that sheâd asked a question with a less than obvious answer.
âUh⌠I donât think thatâs importantâ, Sara Beth said, before launching into more of the story.
But when she naturally paused, G-ma again pressed the issue.
âI donât knowâŚâ Sara Beth said casually, moving on in the story. This caught both Mrs. Corum and G-ma by surprise. Perhaps even Sonic too!
âDear, you donât know the name of your best friend?â, Mrs. Corum gently asked.
Sara Beth grew quiet. Finally she spoke.
âI never knew her nameâŚâ
âShe never told you?â, G-ma asked.
âNoâŚ.â, Sara Beth began, her speech shaky as she suppressed emotions of sadness and guilt, âYou seeâŚ, we met at âOther Worldsâ 6 months ago, and weâd see each other every day. But when you first meet someone, they introduce themselves, and you introduce yourself, but you donât always know theyâre going to be your best friendâ.
âAnd once you doâŚâ, Mrs. Corum said.
âYou feel stupid asking them what their name isâ, Sara Beth concluded.
âOh dear, we understandâ, G-ma said. It was a common enough occurrence, the forgetting of a name, but in the world of a 12 year old, when names of classmates are known from first grade on, one doesnât think to remember new names outside the classroom. There are no teachers to call on new friends, however, and itâs quite remarkable how little someone refers to themselves by name. Poor Sara Beth had grown to care about a friend deeply that she couldnât even identify by name.
âI always kinda hoped sheâd give me a card, but then when she did for my birthday, she just signed it with âyour best friend and Sonicâs Auntââ. The older women could not help themselves from giggling at the irony of the 12 year oldâs ploy and itâs failure to work.
As they finished the story, a thought struck Mrs. Corum.
âG-ma, I think there is a similarity between your story of how you got here and Sara Bethâsâ, she said.
G-ma hadnât told Sara Beth the story of the sweater yet, and couldnât see any sort of connection. After all, there were no hedgehogs or arguments in her story.
âWhat do you mean?â, she asked Mrs. Corum.
âBoth of you were with other people. Both of you were talking with those people. And both of you had a memorable moment happen. For youâ, she said as she gestured toward Sara Beth, âit was a fight that was a major event with your friend. For youâ, as she motioned toward G-ma, âIt was a moment with Julie where she beamed up at you with pride over your sweater. Both moments are things that people would look back upon in the futureâ.
The other two looked at Mrs. Corum skeptically.
âShame you still havenât come up with your story, honey, or else we might be further convinced!â, G-ma said to Mrs. Corum.
âI may have come up with my storyâŚâ, Mrs. Corum replied.
G-ma looked shocked. Theyâd been together for nearly 4 weeks at this point, and Mrs. Corum hadnât shared this with her. She would have remembered – it was, after all, big news in the world they all lived in.
âWell⌠donât leave us waiting!â, G-ma said with a tone that implied that this was definitely shared knowledge – there would be no secrets between the three of them.
âItâs embarrassing, and Iâm afraid youâll be mad at meâ, she said to G-ma. G-ma was incredulous.
âHow can I be mad at you? We didnât meet until you came hereâ.
âYes⌠but it involves Julieâ.
They sat there for a few moments, wondering if Mrs. Corum would say more. Finally she did.
âI suppose there really isnât anything I can do about it now. I just feel bad about it, still.â
âI promise Iâll keep my emotions in checkâ, G-ma said. In her mind, she ran through a list of all the potentially bad things that could have happened between a teacher and Julie, and was prepared for the worst.
âJulie has been a bit different for the past few monthsâ, Mrs. Corum began, âShe seemed to spend most of her time in a bit of a daze. It didnât affect her schoolwork, but the other kids did start noticing. I was worried, so I talked with our school counselor, and she told me, confidentially, that Julie had gone through periods of inattentiveness, mood swings, and mania over her entire time in school. They generally passed without incident, but teachers were made aware of it so they werenât surprised if the girl with the normally high grades suddenly checked out for a month, emotionally, or if she became overly social, or if she began to have boundary issues with other kids. Julie is a wonderful young woman, but she has these momentsâ
âYou were afraid Iâd be mad that Julie wasnât perfect?â, G-ma asked, confused.
âWell, I didnât youâd be happy about it, but that wasnât what I was afraid ofâ, Mrs. Corum continued.
âA few weeks ago, another student in class, Ryan, began to notice Julie was, well, different. And he wasnât happy to let it slide by. Each time sheâd blurt out something in class, heâd make a wisecrack about âthat crazy oneâ. Iâd hush the children, but never do anything more. He attracted a small group of kids who began to scrutinize Julie for anything they could pounce on – you know how kids are – and theyâd take the opportunity to point out her impulsive actions, her mood swings, her quietness even. I kept the classroom in order, but between teaching and managing everyone in the room, I never had much time to do anything else. Finally, one day, Ryan said something that struck a nerve with me. Julie had been working on an assignment that asked the students to imagine their future families. Sheâd drawn a picture of herself and her two children, and her husband. When it came time to present, she told the class that she wanted to have two kids with her charming husband. Ryan, upon hearing this, yelled out âAs if anyone would want to marry you, you crazy ugly thing!â Julieâs mood immediately dropped from ecstatic over her future plans to heartbroken, and she began crying.â
G-ma and Sara Beth attentively looked at Mrs. Corum as she paused.
âI lost it. I launched into a tirade against Ryan. The kind of tirade teachers arenât supposed to launch into anymore, or at the least, launch into only in private with a student. I told him that he was being a horrible classmate to Julie, and a despicable person for saying such a thing. I told him that I would ask him to apologize if I felt his apology would be worth anything, but that I doubted it really did. I told him that he should be amazed if anyone in the class would ever want to be friends with him after such a mean spirited remark. By the time I was done, Julieâs tears had subsided, but Ryanâs had just begun. I emotionally tore down a 12 year old kid who was just acting like a 12 year old kid. A cruel 12 year old kid, but I mustered all of my might to be a cruel elementary school teacher in return.â
They sat there in silence while Mrs. Corum looked down at the ground. Tears rolled down her face.
âEveryone snaps, sometimesâ, G-ma said, âI donât know why you felt that you should worry about my reaction, it sounds like what you did was perfectly naturalâ.
Mrs. Corum looked up.
âNatural, perhaps, but not something I should have done. And I didnât think youâd be mad at me for yelling at Ryan. I thought youâd be mad at me for not defending Julie earlier. In retrospect, I could have done a lot more to stop him before it ever reached that point. I failed Julie as a student, and I feel ashamed and embarrassed at my behavior. And the next thing I knew, after that, I was here. I never had a chance to make things rightâ
G-ma let a moment pass before speaking again.
âThere is no point in chastising yourself for this again and again, it was a mistake – we all learn from mistakesâ.
Sara Beth had sat there quietly through Mrs. Corumâs emotional story. Sonic sat idly by as well, almost as if he knew something important was happening, and that he shouldnât interrupt. Both G-ma and Mrs. Corum had grown quiet, and Sara Beth knew that it was time to speak up.
âI thinkâŚ.â, She said as they looked toward her, âI think that Iâve heard that story beforeâ.
âFrom who?â, Mrs. Corum asked. She feared that, if indeed they were copies, her present self my find herself in the unemployment line due to her little outrage, and that news may have spread of that fast. âWas a friend of yours in the class?â
âYeah, I think so, I remember her telling me the storyâ, Sara Beth replied. âAnd another thingâŚâ, Sara Beth took in a deep breath, âI think I know the name of my best friendâ
Putting the pieces together, G-ma and Mrs. Corum looked at Sara Beth.
âMy best friendâs name is, well after the fight, was, Julieâ.
They paused, with Mrs. Corum breaking the silence.
âJulie told you about this?â, she said quietly.
âYes, but you should know how she told meâ, Sara Beth said with a upbeat note, âShe told me all about how her teacher had stood up for her that day. That the other kids thought she was weird, and sheâd been really upset, but that her favorite teacher finally told them off. She didnât even remember everything you said, because she was still upset, but by the time she felt better, the rest of the kids were in shock and you were sitting behind your desk. She said that after school you held both her and Ryan back. You apologized to her for not stepping in earlier. She didnât know what you said to Ryanâ. The memories Sara Beth spoke from had become crystal clear over the past several minutes. Almost as though theyâd been dusted clean and placed in the forefront of her mind.
âSo I did make it right⌠but my copy was made before thatâ, Mrs. Corum mused.
âAgain with the copiesâ, G-ma said. âIts as good a theory as any, but itâs a crazy oneâ.
By this point, the dimness had passed and it was about halfway through the lighter cycle of the day. The women had stood and idly began walking toward their latest destination – a spot still very much far off in the distance. As they walked, their conversation turned toward lighter matters. They all knew their common link, Julie, and as best they could place, theyâd come here during emotional moments in her life. They joked that perhaps Julie was a supernatural being that could zap them away from life and seal them up here somehow. But still they had no concrete idea about where âhereâ might be.
âJulie loved recessâ, Mrs. Corum said absentmindedly, âIt would be about recess time now, I supposeâ.
âSheâd tell me about how she would play with her few friends at school during recess – theyâd make up stories to tell each otherâ, Sara Beth added.
âShe was all about stories, even as a little girlâ, G-ma concluded. Of the three, the situation regarding Julie was probably hardest on G-ma. It had been so long since G-ma had seen her, and while hearing about her from Mrs. Corum and Sara Beth was lovely, it also stung.
As they walked, something in the sky caught Sara Bethâs eye. âWhat is that?â, she said as she pointed up.
A flash of coppery shimmer appeared above them. Theyâd barely had a chance to talk about it before the earthquake began. Similar to the one that Mrs. Corum and G-ma had experienced weeks before, however much more severe. The tremors knocked the women back and forth, far enough from each other as to not be able to hear. Periodically theyâd believe it to be over and get up to wander nearer to the rest of the group, only to have a tremor knock them down once more. Finally the rain came, dropping buckets of water onto their heads. The ground couldnât soak it up fast enough, with Sonicâs little ball floating slightly from time to time as water pooled under him. Thankfully once the rain had stopped, and the ground was still, and the dimness came for the night, the women had time to gather their wits. All three were thankful that they couldnât feel the pain they would inevitably been afflicted with if they were still on earth. G-ma and Mrs. Corum wondered if that one might have been fatal if they hadnât been here.
âI wonder what happenedâ, Sara Beth asked.
âNo idea, but whatever it was, it was severeâ, Mrs. Corum replied.
âWeâve been talking so much about Julieâ, Sara Beth continued, âThat I thought of how her moods would change from time to time. Theyâd start out as if nothing was wrong. Then a burst of intense emotion, and then sheâd end up crying. It was weird that the weather here was almost exactly the same as thatâ
The women thought about this for a moment, when G-ma broke the silence.
âMrs. Corum, I think the copy idea may truly be right⌠I think I know where we areâ
âWhere?â, both Sara Beth and Mrs. Corum asked at the same time.
âYou know how it is when youâre thinking about someone?â, G-ma began. The others nodded. G-ma spoke slowly and purposefully.
âItâs almost as if you place them in your mind, and you think about how theyâd react to a situation, how theyâd be if they were there. Sometimes you have them say things and control their behavior. Other times you just imagine them to have them near you during tough times.â
âWhat if sometimes you stole them away for yourself later? What if you kept a copy of them to recall in the future. We would have no idea how many times weâd been copied. How many of us there would be out there. Weâd go on living our lives as if nothing had happened, with clones of us living out their days in the minds of others.â
âThey wouldnât feel any physical feelings, because they werenât physically peopleâ, Mrs. Corum added.
âThey wouldnât have any needs – I donât think of my friends as having to eat, or drink, or use the bathroom, when I remember them in my mindâ, Sara Beth said.
âLadies⌠I think I know where we are⌠Weâre in the mind of my granddaughter, your student, your friend, and little Sonicâs Aunt: Julie McKayâ
I was born in the forgotten generation – those not quite old enough to be Gen X, but those definitely too young to be a Millenial, an era some have called the Oregon Trail Generation. As such, I share some traits with either generation, and have some unique ones of my own. And sometimes I think Iâm the only one who sees the odd mashups of both.
Hereâs my example for today: The “Aversion to Talking to People” of the Millenials versus the “Computers are Tracking YOU” paranoia of Gen X.
I admit that I do enjoy not having to make awkward phone calls or initiate conversation with strangers – I share that with many millenials raised on instant Google gratification. Iâll do it if necessary (or get someone else to, just ask friends of mine that had to ask someone to take our picture at Graceland last week when I chickened out), but Iâd prefer to avoid dealing with humans for needs, instead dealing with them simply for wants. (In other words, if you want to become friends, Iâm up to chat all afternoon – but if I need to call you to ask what time you close tomorrow, Iâm not that excited).
Now letâs contrast that with the âComputers are tracking youâ paranoia of many Gen Xâers (and older). Iâm not a huge fan of things like loyalty cards that track my purchases, but I begrudingly use them to get small discounts at the grocery store. Recently our local grocery store started sending coupons to us in the mail (I say recently, but it could have been several years ago, my wife would know for sure. I stereotypically leave most of the couponing to her). Upon the arrival of the latest batch, my wife said âI think they track what you buy and send you the coupons you might actually useâ. I agreed that this would be a smart move on their part, and that it actually sets up kind of a win-win situation. Store has a greater liklihood of me buying something because itâs something I like and I have a coupon, and if I was going to buy it anyway, I get a small discount (I suppose if I were a big impulse shopper, this would be disastrous, but thankfully I donât tend to be).
This got me thinking – for many older folks, a local grocer (physical person) who knew them by name, knew their likes/dislikes, and offered them discounts would be a valued shopkeep, something lamented when they were replaced by a big-box grocery chain. Yet those same people find it creepy when a computer tracks their purchases and targets them with coupons or ads, essentially providing the same service. Somehow itâs less creepy if itâs a person doing it. Contrast that with the Millenial attitude that dealing a person is more uncomfortable than a computer, and you have a strange cohort effect. Older generations find it creepy if itâs a computer, younger find it uncomfortable if itâs a person, and vice versa.
I, for my part, shall continue to straddle the two generations, embracing my Oregon Trail-ness while teaching (mostly) Millenials. And continue to notice strange inconsistencies like this one, which I shall report to, no doubt, millions of interested readers!
Saw this just now via MacRumors – a wonderful note that our friends at Oracle have decided to bundle the Ask.com toolbar (an invaluable tool if there ever was one) with the Mac version of Java (as theyâve done with the Windows version for some time)…
For years, Oracle has been bundling an Ask.com search toolbar with Java for Windows, relying on what some call deceptive methods to get users to install the add-on to their browsers. Now, the company has extended its adware strategy to Java for Mac, according to ZDNet.
Thanks Oracle, now this is another thing I get to think about next time I have to install Java on something. The question is – are you really hurting for cash so badly that you need to bundle things like this in? And for that matter, are large companies really getting that much money from this stuff.
Wait⌠of course they are⌠otherwise they wouldnât do it. Oh what a stupid sad maladjusted state of affairs. Friendly PSA folks: Watch your install wizards closely!
At Least thus far it is mostly about makeup, something I’ve never used. The reason it’s in my Blog Roll and my news feeds? Because a former student is writing it, and I generally encourage this whole blogging thing, despite the fact that I have a hard time motivating myself to blog (Fun Fact: JonWestfall.Com is now over 10 years old… Where did the time go?!?)
So if you’re into Makeup (with presumably more topics to follow), check out Maghen’s blog Lavender Lipstick. I know I’m going to follow so I can bust out random cosmetics knowledge and amaze/scare my female friends. And to support a fellow Blogger.
With the new semester starting, I’ve had a lot of interactions with students as of late. Some are returning familiar faces, others are new faces that (in some situations) are new to college completely. They’re all undergraduates, taking 5 or so classes at one time, and many are trying to earn the highest possible grades in those classes.
It’s interesting to me to think about the roles and responsibilities in academia. The semester sees me shuffling from class to class, preparing lectures and activities, and of course grading. I spend several hours a week cruising around classrooms, telling jokes that my students mercifully laugh at, and making observations about my field and the material I’m presenting. In some cases I need to keep the conversation going for 75 minutes, or at the least direct attention toward an activity or video if I decide to rest my voice. I then retreat to my office, where I answer emails, respond to texts, post more bad jokes online (that my friends mercifully “like”), and grade assignments and exams. I also take time to work on research, follow-up with students and colleagues, and attend meetings.
Students have a similar routine – they move about classes, copiously write what professors like me say, download notes, skim textbooks (or even “read textbooks deeply” on occasion), and juggle requirements along with a myriad of campus activities, jobs, families, and friends.
In my mind it is debatable who has the more difficult job. For example, most of my effort is front-loaded into the semester. I can begin preparing classes months in advance if I like, where my students need to react as material is thrown at them – taking exams when I dictate, covering material that they’ve only had (in the best case scenario) 8 weeks to learn. I’ve learned the same material for over 10 years – so it’s no wonder I consider the exam questions “no brainers” – they came from my brain!
And at least when I do have to learn new material, I can fit it into my head’s schemas of information better than what my student’s face – they’re learning 5 new courses of content each semester with little to no overlap. What I learn from 3 journal articles may very easily overlap central concepts. How much overlap is there between, say, psychology and chemistry? Maybe 5%.
So I try to stay away from the easy way out – I don’t let myself think I have it harder just because I had to do 99% of the talking during the semester, or because I had to grade 50 exams whereas my students only had to take 1. It might be a long trek for me, but the path seems to be rockier for them.
Then again I may be wrong… wouldn’t be the first time! What do you think – is it harder to be a professor or a student?
So I’m not normally a forgetful person. In fact, sometimes I recall things that surprise others around me (i.e. random birthdays, etc…). And one thing I’ve never had trouble remembering is the tasks that I have to get done, both long and short-term. Major parts of my job(s) don’t fall through the cracks. So why do I use a to-do list service? The little things that go bump in my head… Continue reading “To Do Lists For Sanity’s Sake!”
Mitch walked into the office. He was 15 minutes early for the interview, so he sat by the reception area after checking in. The receptionist smiled at him, however he couldn’t help but notice her prolonged gaze, almost as if she hesitated before telling him that Mr. Smith would let her know when he could head back.
Mitch was 20 years old, and a college graduate. He’d studied hard, and his internship at a small branch of the larger company had earned him the interview. He was nervous, but well prepared for almost anything. It turned out that no amount of preparation could have helped him in the awkwardness that was about to occur.
Mr. Smith called for Mitch about 20 minutes later. Mitch walked down the hall and was beckoned into Smith’s office by his loud booming voice. Mitch could be quite loud too, however that was with friends. Today he was somewhat reserved, sitting in a new suit, mentally ready for the barrage of questions.
Smith and Mitch looked at each other for a moment after shaking hands, as Smith got a pen and pad ready to take notes.
“Uh”, Smith began, slightly taken aback, “Where are you from, Mitch?”
“From outside Newberry”, Mitch replied.
“Newberry…. “, Smith said, rolling it around in his mind and mouth. He almost visibly shook his head as if shaking off the feeling of discontinuity. He asked Mitch several pre-written questions from a standard interview form, but stopped about 10 minutes in.
“Mitch, I gotta ask this – have we met before?”, Smith asked.
“I don’t think so, I’ve never been to the city before, and I don’t think you ever visited the branch I interned at”, Mitch replied.
“But still, you seem really familiar”
“Yes, you seem a bit familiar too”, Mitch said as he glanced around the room. Noticing pictures of presumably Smith’s family, Mitch was shocked to see people who looked familiar as well. Smith noticed Mitch’s eyes glancing and took down the photo with the most number of people in it.
“Is that your mother?”, Mitch asked as he pointed to one of several older women in the photo, “And an aunt – there – from your father’s side?”.
Astonished, Smith replied affirmatively. Mitch looked at each member of the family and guessed their relationship to Smith, guessing correctly every time. Mitch then pulled out his wallet and showed Smith several photos. Somehow, Smith was equally able to name them.
“Mitch, you just graduated college, correct?”, Smith asked after the photos had been stowed and shelved.
“Yes, in December 2011”, Mitch replied.
“I graduated in December 2001”, Smith said.
The began to compare life histories, and over the course of the hour, an hour that was supposed to be filled with questions about a prospective job, benefits, challenges, and the like, they realized that their histories ran roughly parallel, 10 years removed. They even bore a resemblance to each other physically, although they didn’t notice this until near the end of their meeting.
The two men parted company but promised to consult with family and friends, looking to see if somehow they were connected. Obviously Smith liked Mitch, and recommended he be hired. Some months later, Mitch received a call from his great-grandmother, who was ill and normally not able to talk. She was feeling good that day, and wanted to speak to her only great-grandson. Mitch asked her about Smith, telling the matriarch the details of their meeting.
“Well Mitch”, the old woman began, “When you reach my age, you realize something. We’re all fundamentally living the same lives, just years apart. Some times it’s more noticeable than others, such as with you and your friend there. And you, my child, have hopefully saved yourself a lot of grief by learning this life lesson early.
“What do you mean Grandma?”, Mitch asked.
“It’s easier to spend life recognizing the common threads that bind us together, and not focus on the loose ends that distinguish us.”
[SSDay]
Danielle’s mother pulled her along, across the side street toward the shops. Today they’d be shopping and spending time together, Danielle being only 3, the world was still a big place with much to explore, and not enough time to do it, straining against her mother’s pull.
3 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother pulls her toward the school building. The child is reluctant to give up her own ability to explore for the guided exploration of her teachers. Her new friends, whom she will meet shortly, will ease the transition.
6 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother pushes her toward activities she’d rather skip. Spending time with her grandparents, going to Sunday school, and practicing her piano skills pale in comparison to the excitement of the conversation of friends, the shopping at the mall instead of the stores on main street, and exploring what being a teenager will be.
6 years goes by, and Danielle’s mother taps her daughter on the shoulder. It’s graduation day, and while college awaits, today marks the end of the guided exploration started 12 years earlier. Danielle is on her own, for a while, to learn about the world. Her mother hopes she can guide herself.
6 years goes by and Danielle’s mother beckons her daughter to hurry up, the guests are seated, they await the bride’s entrance.
Many more years go by, and Danielle’s mother, father, and husband pass on. She sits in a coffee shop that stands where her mother once took her shopping long ago. It is then she realizes that she never finished exploring the world. She gets up and drags herself out into it.
[SSDay]