Beyond

Beyond: The Last Window. (Vocal Challenge - a dystopian fiction story.)

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it

through the window in his room.

Not really, though. The window's at the far end of the room. Its sill

is deep, the frame is wide, the angle is acute from her standpoint, the

white glare on the pane too bright for her to distinguish anything

beyond. Yet she is hopeful.

Window, the window. Lorayne is so fortunate. Daily she thanks her lucky

stars that she had been assigned to Mastr Paul for her internship. Not

only is he a top ranking Mastr, an elite, he is also a Screenholder,

the screen being "the window on the world," it is said. Yet he has

a real, actual, window. She didn't know such a thing truly existed

anymore. Windows are the stuff of legends. And family history.

What she knows of actual windows she had learned from the

tattered pages of her great-great-great-grandmother's journal, and stories

from her mother. She doesn't understand it all, but mother had her

repeat "intro" until it was second nature. "In case it disappears," mother

Morgan would whisper intensely.

"Intro," Lorayne whispers fervently. "Before the First Pandemic,

GGG-Gram was a classroom school teacher. In lockdown and rise of Zoom,

GGG-Gram´s literature degree worked, she wrote in her insignificant

little corner, Reseda of Los Angles. GGG-Gram Megan Adams born ye of

olord 1992, who begat Lucy, who begat Laura, who begat Madie, who begat

Morgan, who begat Lorayne. Me."

Lorayne tries to remember to repeat it daily, but sometimes she forgets.

"Remember, remember, and keep the journal safe," her mother Morgan

impressed upon her, as her mother Madie had done with Morgan.

Mastr Paul is kindly. Maybe fatherly; she wouldn't know. Grandfatherly,

even. He must be over 60. He has few demands. Interns do what they are

told to do, learn what they can, and hope their next assignment will

release them from servitude required of the uneducated and unfamilied

folk. But she likes it here, and maybe she won´t have to move on.

Maybe he will decree that she stay.

Lorayne knows little of screens and how they run the world. She is in

awe of Mastr Paul, surprised that she has such a choice assignment. And

now, a WINDOW. The promise of a glance at the unknown Outside.

GGG-Gram wrote at the start of her journal: "In NYC, at 5 p.m. they bang

pots, play bagpipes or guitars or cellos and shout thanks to the frontline

workers. I went on my balcony at 5 today and screamed at the top of my

lungs. I suppose people must have heard me, but no one came out to see

what the ruckus was about. No one cares in L.A."

GGG-Gram: "My slider was stuck. I used Q-tips to clear the rail.

We're not allowed to use the pool these days, so my balcony is my

lifeline. I needed that window to open. I try to sit out there at 5,

listen to Foo Fighters or John Denver or Adele with my earbuds and send

good vibes to the frontline workers."

GGG-Gram: "I was doomscrolling and found a cool site, WeeWindows,

where people around the world post photos of themselves at their

windows, you can see right past them and get their tiny view of the

world. My best view is out my slider. On the right side is the top of

the unusually tall lemon tree, if I'm lucky I can reach a few lemons

each season. Straight on, the walkway to the mailboxes. Left side, the

street lined with liquid amber trees. They are a riot of color every

autumn. Not a super exciting view, but having limited food within reach

and a feast for the eyes around Thanksgiving time have their

advantages."

GGG-Gram: "With the fabric scraps I was saving to make a quilt, I

made a bunch of masks with pockets for coffee filters. I used the

twisty tie from the veggie bag for the nose piece. Whatever works when

you can't find N-95s. These are colorful and cheery."

GGG-Gram: "I'm really getting into WeeWindows. Slate shingles on

French mansard roofs, outlined with falling snow. Collin's window, six

sheep grazing on brilliant green grass. Augusta´s of Adelaide (or

Adelaide´s of Augusta?) view of a street corner, a white-haired

crossing guard in an orange vest dutifully waiting to halt traffic so

his charges can safely cross. I´m not sure why he´s there, the

school is closed and there´s nobody around. He probably doesn't have

anything else to do. Then a cat licking its privates on a rooftop in

Singapore. Sunset over Lake Champlain from the Hilton Hotel.

Catherine's window, raindrops dancing, shivering in excitement on the

leaves of an ancient oak."

Lorayne struggles with the words. It's so hard to understand what Tutor

called "cursive." Figuring out which letters the curvy marks mean,

then trying to imagine what that word could be. Q-tips, balcony,

frontline, bagpipes, traffic, sunset. Lorayne is ignorant of so many

things.

Tutor taught Lorayne to read. At her last internship, she was Nanny.

She was there four years. Nanny was content; she laughed and played

with the two children, and she would have liked to stay. But Msus said

Mistr was getting a wandering eye that was going to make trouble. Lorayne

couldn't imaging what kind of sickness that was, if it was one of the

Variants. Mistr and Msus had allowed Nanny to participate in the

childrens' classes with Tutor. As a parental unit, they were tasked with

helping children succeed, they thought it included her as well. Mistr

promoted Lorayne´s reading talent to help secure her internship with

Mastr Paul. She was no longer completely uneducated. Although she

missed the children, Lorayne was pleased to leave before seeing that

eyeball wander away.

Lorayne is pleased to be able to read, like her ancestors. She

struggles with cursive. She remembers her mother´s words, and tries

to remember the stories.

GGG-Gram: "I admire Zuck's leadership at meta to prohibit lies about

covid. I was curious so I Googled it, today meta's website says 'we

remove false information about the existence or severity of COVID-19.'

Well said. I like this kind of moral stand."

GGG-Gram: "2023, here we are going into year 4. Delta, Omicron, BQs,

more boosters that no one wants, they think it's over. Fools. Patti

died this week, leaving three kids and a beagle."

GGG-Gram: "More WeeWindows. Oh, what would I do without these

windows? Tonight I watched Muscovites get on and off of electric busses

in the rain, courtesy of Sergei. Rachael's view of seagulls circling

over the Sea of Galilee. Brightly lit skyscrapers, captured by Maricor

in Manila. Vlasta's vista of red roofed homes on green Croatian

hillsides. Rather than quench my desire to travel, these glimpses

through strangers' windows stoke it considerably."

Mastr Paul gifted a small notebook to Lorayne where she dutifully

records mystifying words. Omicron, beagle, Muscovites, seagulls,

skyscrapers. She had told him about her precious pages. He is curious,

but respectful. He is intrigued by the list of words she presents to

him. He is patient.

GGG-Gram: "The Ukrainians are standing firm as their cities are

obliterated. Isn´t covid enough? Must there be war too?"

GGG-Gram: "Trevor has quit. I relied on him for a comedic twist on

the awful world news. Live long and prosper, Mr. Noah."

GGG-Gram: "Snow quietly falling in a forest. A Sonoran desert

lightning storm. These windows help me keep my sanity. Teaching on

Zoom is stressful, so frustratingly stressful. Don't parents realize that if

they do their kids' work, their kids don't learn? It's hard enough on the

students to be isolated at home. If they can get out to play, they´re socially

distanced. This new normal is depressing."

GGG-Gram: "Bleak dormitories looking across at bleaker dormitories

filled with sad students on lockdown again. So sad, so many students

dying worldwide."

GGG-Gram: "No more enforcement of the covid misleading info policy on

media sites. Healthcare workers fear the damage of misinformation; the

lies of the ignorant and the evil will abound and snowball. There's

word of new variants in Paraguay and Uganda, but is it a valid word? I

fear it is."

One day Lorayne tells Mastr Paul more about what GGG-Gram wrote about

windows. She tries to describe some of what she read, but without

knowing what mansard means, or how Noah´s ark might fit into the

story, it´s hard to describe. She´s not ready to show him GGG-Gram´s

journal, despite being with him now for several years and trusting him

implicitly.

He nods, listens, seems interested. He doesn´t comment. As she leaves

the room, she sees the flicker of images leap to life on his screen as

his fingers beat a rapid tattoo on the board.

GGG-Gram: "I started making masks again as a reminder that the risk

is still here. Especially as the medical masks are so hard to get now. With

all of my vaccinations and, at this point, countless boosters, I thought I´d

go out. I pulled my old Razor scooter out and scooted around the

neighborhood today. I gave away twenty masks to people I came across. It

felt good, like maybe I´ll make a difference. Recklessly, I went inside the

crowded minimart and got a big red slushie. For old time's sake."

Razor scooter. Minimart. Slushie.

GGG-Gram: "My journal was the last thing I stuffed into my backpack.

We couldn't bring much, water and provisions took precedence. Russia

aggressively replied to the NATO support with a nuke. Brian's friend

Doug works at the old Nike site in the mountains, we´re going to hang

out there for a month or two."

GGG-Gram: "Escalation. Yeah, it´s been bad. Korea wanted in, of all

things it went for Venezuela and Mexico and their oil. It's unfathomable to

me. WWIII on the ground in South America and Europe, now that Korea's

been blasted to smithereens. So the fallout is from farther away.

Unbelievable that they didn´t target California."

GGG-Gram: "There´s twelve of us here. We´re five months in,

we´re still inside the Nike base. Luckily Doug seriously stocked up

on provisions, Boy Scouts are always prepared. With some exceptions.

I´m two months late."

Smithereens. That was fun to say. Boy Scouts.

Mastr Paul shows me his screen. "A map," he says, showing me a

colorful drawing and telling me about the world. I don´t understand, but I

nod. Some of the words he says are familiar as he points to spots on

the screen. Ukraine. California.

GGG-Gram: "Boy Scout Doug isn´t really to blame, I´m the one who

loaded up on school supplies yearly and should have remembered writing

implements! Nothing to write with, so years of nothing in my journal! They

can deal with the generators and laptops and all, but the power and

communication tools are too precious to use "for a diary," they all said.

As you are reading this now, you know I survived and eventually found

some pens. For the past years, we stayed isolated, the world morphed,

the children grew. My little Lucy is a miracle. The children are

all miracles, and I am teaching them too read."

GGG-Gram: "I so miss the old world, I wonder about my family in

Wisconsin, I miss my WeeWindows. To see what is really out there now,

what is left, how it has changed, that would be eye-opening in the

truest way."

GGG-Gram: "I´m so old, I didn´t think I´d live to see a

grandchild, yet here she is. Lovely little Laura. Lucy will hold my

journal for her. Maybe someday it will make a difference to someone."

Lorayne thinks it´s time to show GGG-Gram´s journal to Mastr Paul.

She´s been with him for five years now. He remains patient. They have

talked about it. He knows it is hard for her, this solitary, tangible piece of

family history is a rare and precious thing.

Lorayne and Mastr Paul decide they will both share.

Lorayne hands him the journal. He receives it with both hands and

treats it reverently, like the treasure that it is. Carefully, he opens

the scarred cover and begins to read.

Lorayne walks past Mastr Paul to the window, eyes averted until she

reaches it. She closes her eyes and puts her hand out, feeling the

smooth glass. She lifts her other hand and runs it across the dusty sill. She

moves her hands until she is grasping both sides of the frame. Lorayne

faces the window and takes a deep breath. She opens her eyes.