Coconut Cream Pie

I woke up to see that the ocean was still there. Just like yesterday. And the day before. The ancestors had written about “land,” but the word was almost as foreign as the word “Manhattan.” These same ancestors had written about how our ark – a translucent, spherical “marvel of engineering” – was equal to the size of two “Manhattans,” but none of us knew what that meant. Even our wise guru who led us into a Call and Response each morning-

(“Blessed are the waters with the burning salt that heals…”

“… As our souls burn with regret for our foolish past.”)

- didn’t have a clue.

A search for “Manhattan” in our knowledge databanks only led to the image of an ominous green statue – her eyes staring at me with contempt for what my ancestors had done (whatever that was) while one hand held a book of judgement and another held the flame of punishment.

The ocean was at her knees in the image, but we had heard from others that the water had risen to her waist.

That’s what the last report had said when my grandparents saw a sphere sixty years ago. Nothing had been seen since.

My fingers absentmindedly reached for the heart-shaped locket around my neck. I opened it up and looked at my mother. My memory of her faded each day since she had received kitchen duty. I didn’t know how long her unburdening would last

(“Nobody likes being in those fridges.”)

but I kept looking at her face in the picture… hoping to see her real face soon.

I got up to look at my clothes, deciding which color to wear today: grey or white. Mismatching was unburdened from us three years ago. Black and blue were unburdened six months ago. The same reasoning was given by our guru as always.

(“These things interfere with your survivor essence and – as a survivor – you must put aside everything that interferes.”)

It made no sense. But no one questioned the guru since he assumed power thirty years ago after the great panic took our sphere.

(“We used to see other spheres every six months. Where have they been these past two decades?”)

Those who questioned his power got unburdened with kitchen duty and we had all heard the stories of how the laborers prepared our protein sources.

(“The bodies in the fridges are to the ceiling, I tell you.”)

It was just a shame because blue was my favorite color.

I chose grey and headed out of my slumber pod on the way to Call and Response, seeing an old classmate of mine. As we concluded our brief ceremony lamenting our burning souls, I noticed his security badge was crooked and let him know.

“Thanks, Friend,” he said as he readjusted. “Don’t want my first day on the job to be known as the screw up. I wouldn’t want to be back in janitorial like the rest of you guys.”

“Yeah… we’re such miserable river rats,” I said while rolling my eyes.

His head tilted as his face begged for an explanation.

“Sorry, Friend,” I slowly offered. “I’m being sarcastic. And I’ve just had those late nights of boredom, looking through the knowledge databanks again. A river rat is a….”

I waved my hand distractedly and walked towards the cafeteria. He laughed as he followed me.

“By the way,” I said. “The janitorial task is a wonderful one to have. It’s needed. And honorable.”

My friend nodded respectfully.

“Yeah, but..” he waited for words that took a while to arrive. “It wasn’t my thing, you know.”

I had to laugh.

“Everyone knew that. Even my mom knew…”

My voice trailed off, lost in melancholy memories and longing. Knowing where the conversation could head, my friend guided it to safer destinations.

“You need to get your head out of those knowledge databanks and your hands on some real stuff. I know most friends are not allowed outside of the sphere… but have you heard about our diving team?”

“Of course I have.”

“I know someone who is on it and they tell me some of the crazy shit they find below the surface. Just a few days ago they were telling me of something called a ‘department store’ just a few hundred feet down. In there, they found these personal boats called ‘canoes.’”

“I have heard about canoes. There is an article in our-“

“Yeah, yeah… the knowledge databanks. But have you ever seen one? Felt it? Been inside one? Man… that has to be an experience.”

“One that neither of us will have because we are not on the diving team.”

“But security has special privileges.”

I cocked my eyebrow as I waited for my protein pack. My friend just shrugged.

Our guru’s face was plastered on every wall, smiling down on us like a benevolent father. I glanced at one as I moved towards the dessert section before noticing half the desserts were already gone.

“Where are the coconut cream pies?” I asked.

“New rule,” My friend sighed. “Coconut interferes with our survivor essence, etcetera. You know the drill.”

“It makes no sense-“

He coughed in interruption and straightened up his posture, looking away from me. A chill ran down my spine before I even heard the voice behind me.

"Friend,” the voice said, soft but commanding. “Why should you not rejoice in the knowledge of being unburdened by this?”

I turned around, seeing the guru in all of his glory standing four feet away.

“I’m s-s-sorry, Sir. It’s just sometimes your teachings… I mean, when I read the knowledge databanks… it just…”

The guru sighed and hung his head briefly before looking back at me.

“Maybe the knowledge databanks are too much for you. Maybe you should be unburdened by them for three months.”

My mouth hung open, only to quickly recover and stammer out, “I appeal.”

The guru stepped closer to me, his blue eyes piercing sharper as his voice lowered and hardened.

“I am not a shit-eating security guard you can appeal to. I am your benevolent guru. It stops here.”

“It can’t. It’s not fair.”

“Six months.”

“Sir.”

The guru took three more steps toward me and was in my face before I could blink.

“You are two syllables away from kitchen duty.”

Silence had filled the cafeteria as our eyes locked. He broke only to look at my locket. Before I could say anything, he snatched it off of my neck.

“I am making a new decree,” the guru announced. “Any and all necklaces, bracelets, and lockets interfere with your survival essence and are permanently unburdened in this sphere.”

“Are souls burn with joy,” everyone said without thought.

Everyone but me.

The guru opened my locket and looked at the photograph within.

“Also permanently unburdened,” he said as he looked into my watery eyes. “Is the mourning of the dead.”

As he walked away with my locket still in his hand, my appetite for a protein pack vanished. I looked at the image of him on the wall, noting that the smile no longer seemed benevolent.

I knocked on my old classmate’s slumber pod’s door later that night. He answered with a yawn.

“Hi, Friend,” he said as he stepped aside, letting me in. His eyes darted around as if to check that no one saw me. Since my incident with the guru, people seemed to be repelled from my presence. I felt like I was on the opposite pole of a magnet and the only thing that I was quickly attracting was the kitchen.

“Do you have access to that canoe?” I said as he closed his door.

His head cocked again. “Yes… but I don’t understand-“

“And your security badge gives you access off of this sphere, correct?”

Understanding hit his eyes like a wave.

“Listen to me, you have had a bad day. A really bad day. I get it. But what you’re thinking about doing…”

“My mind is made up.”

He nervously paced a few steps.

“I won’t allow it.”

I gave the conversation a pause, measuring the weight of my words as they slowly fell out of my mouth. “This isn’t up for discussion, Friend. If you stand in my way, I will do whatever it takes to move you. Whatever it takes.”

“Watch yourself. As a security guard, I have the power and authority to –“

“She was my mother, Mike. My mother.”

His eyes quickly softened. Hearing your name for the first time in years has that effect.

“Meet me in Quadrant 5 in an hour,” Mike said. “It’s west of the cafeteria. Bring everything you have that can fit inside a backpack.”

I nodded my head, holding back tears for the second time today.

An hour later, I found myself in Quadrant 5 with Mike. He was standing by a door with the canoe ready for launch, two backpacks in the front and the oar right beside it.

“The backpacks are full of protein, some fresh water, an umbrella, and a filtration device. You’re going to need all of that… probably more. But that’s the best I could do on short notice. The food should last you for about two weeks. Maybe three if you ration it out carefully.”

“Thanks.”

“I also found this.”

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out the locket. I took it with trembling hands.

“I owe you my life.”

Mike shook his head.

“What plan do you have? We haven’t seen another sphere in a lifetime.”

“I have hope. A lack of hope would… interfere with my survivor essence.”

He turned and swiped his badge on a security pad. A door opened and the sensation of the salt wind blowing in my face greeted me for the first time in my life.

“The door closes in thirty seconds. Be safe.”

I pushed off into the salty ocean, hearing the door latch behind me.

Two days later, under the glare of the burning sun, I saw the ominous statue of Manhattan. The water was up to her neck and the book of judgment hidden below the surface. Her eyes were dull – tired with no consequence. I paddled under her flame, looking out towards the horizon.