Gertrude's Test

Just another room full of screens, Tanka ruminated as he gloomily pretended to sip at the brown plastic bottle. He was wondering if it was the neons that made it quite this sticky. Always counter, even yourself. Counter – pharmas have similar lights, and they seemed to add to the eerie coat of glaze. Luckily, the triplets skid into the bar and snapped him from his reverie.

“Gertrude got an 82! Gertrude got an 82!” they chanted, dancing with a joy Tanka found sickening. He grabbed the closest one, one of the boys, Hamer or Lou. No one could tell them apart and most just called them Louham.

“Not my Gertrude?” Tanka asked with a touch too much urgency. Ali coughed behind him. They shared a dark glance and then turned to Doe expectantly. He was their best drunk. Because he was their only drunk.

Doe stood laboriously. “I- I wanna make a toast…”

Tanka took the opportunity to step out. It wasn’t flagged by the watchies, because no one in the room saw him go or remarked upon his departure. He hurried home but along the busiest avenues. Once he got there, their mother was in a full-on panic. “Oh, Iyo! Iyotake, don’t let them take my baby!” she cried.

Tanka blinked repeatedly. His forearms itched. His eyes darted around the room, when he realized he could hear his own, heavy, breath.

“How long have the screens been off?” he whispered in a gulpy bark. He scurried about, turning them all back on.

“Only a couple minutes. I just got home and told her.” Gertrude offered. She spoke with her standard monotone. Their mother’s sobs reached an unacceptable height.

He turned to the dispenser, glued his eyes to its mini screen, clicking just enough for it to give up a sedative. While he handed it to Mother, he asked Gertrude in a similar lackluster, “How did this happen?”

“Cesar thought it’d be funny.”

“What?”

“To see what would happen if we really tried.”

Tanka swallowed frustration and acid. “There’s nothing funny about that test.” He took a deep breath. “Come with me.”

Gertrude was apprehensive as she followed Tanka through the dark walkways. She’d gone on runs with her brother before but never at night. Usually it was just if he was going somewhere that a young girl still going straight would make him less conspicuous. If not, as now, it was time to play ghost. She made herself as unnoticable as possible. And when noticed, she kept her eyes and smile vacant. She kept a keen yet unremarkable eye on him though. He wasn’t playing a ghost. He was raucous with a side of exhilaration, stopping every so often to chit chat with small groups of acquaintances hanging in the street or veer off to random stoops whenever anyone hollered at him.

They passed 10 pharmas and 11 bars in as many blocks. His choice to go into one seemed random. Gertrude followed but had never been in one. The brightness was off putting. Tanka picked a bottle, clear plastic, dark liquor, square. Gertrude set her jaw and refused to react to the reminder. Next, he went to one of the large dispensers. He selected a dizzying array of pills and a blue tonic. He feigned boredom with the advertisements and cracked open his bottle. He rolled his eyes at the obligatory PSA and grabbed his merchandise.

He stopped at one last porch. He passed his bottle around, and they went inside. It was Ali’s place. Most of the times Gertrude had accompanied Tanka, it was to see Ali. But he’d never looked at her, nor spoken to her. He looked at her now though. It was just a passing glance. It made her shiver.

There were four other men in the relatively small living room. They were engrossed in the screens and drink. Doe had brought some other Does. Best way to simulate a party was to actually throw one. Tanka went to the bathroom. So, Gertrude stuck to the shadowy corner by the door. In the shower, there was a half bottle of fake liquor. He poured his real one down the drain and hid the empty under the sink among its many brethren.

Back to the party, he tossed the pills to their Doe. Each Doe appreciatively took one without asking what it was. Tanka then turned to Ali, with a small wave of the vial of blue tonic. Ali’s smile was warm and genuine but brief. The two shook hands, swapping vials. Ali made a production of turning all the screens to a wild, crunchy, most importantly loud, song. Tanka beckoned Gertrude to the unused couch along the back wall. She sat. He slouched and looked at the screen. So she did too. He whispered under the roar of speakers.

“Drink this.” he handed her the swapped vial of blue water. “It won’t do nuthin’. But pretend to fall asleep in 15. The pills will kick in on the guys around then. Eventually, the screens will switch to sleep programming. 36 minutes later, the watchies will turn off, if they’re even on. That’s when we move. You follow me and do exactly what I do. Yeah?”

Gertrude didn’t take the chance to nod or speak. She drank the tonic and curled into the couch cushions, slowly letting her eyes go vacant and then closed.

It took an hour to get out of Ali’s place. Another 30 minutes to make it to their destination, wavering between rowdy throughways and ones so dead their watchies wore out long ago. The destination was a TI building. Gertrude didn’t know why they were called that. They were just old. So old, Mother had always said, they’ll fall out from under you. That wasn't why they were dangerous.

It had windows. Real ones. With glass, so, many were cracked. All were sooty. Inside, they went to a large room, inside far enough that it had no windows. Gertrude’s eyes widened. She felt something intense. She wanted to call it fear but wasn’t quite sure. The word shock felt apt, but she didn’t know what it meant. First, there weren’t any screens. She couldn’t think of a time when she’d been in any room without at least one. And the lights were indescribably strange. They were orangey instead of bluish. Even though they didn’t hum, they did crackle occasionally. Once her initial reaction subsided, she found the lights mesmerizing.

There were small clusters of people circling about tables. They were talking. And so much eye contact. Gertrude couldn’t believe it. She was finally in a place where the real talk could happen above a whisper, where ‘I love you’ wasn’t just a passing glance. There was a raised platform at the front. Ali climbed it, and the beautiful mix of conversation died down. “Welcome, family. We ready to tell some stories? Hear some? Think?”

Gertrude marveled at the lightheartedness of cheering just at someone speaking a few feet in front of you. When that petered out, Ali continued. “The topic for tonight is jobs. If you know what that is, or even if you don’t, come on up and tell me a story.”

“We’re not here for this.” Tanka announced suddenly. His voice was low and only intended for Gertrude but not empty like their usual whispers.

She followed him down a hallway out of the big room. “Hey, Tanka?” she asked.

He stopped short. He hadn’t heard her speak openly, let alone affectionately, since she was too little to know not to. “Yeah?”

“What’s a job?”

He sighed. “There’ll be plenty of time for that, Zitkala.” He resumed walking. He took her to another room with no windows or screens but with that pretty, flickering light. This one was smaller though, with only a handful of people. There were a few rummaging through brown boxes, putting unfamiliar items in old timey bags, faded green fabric. Some others were by a big table loaded with… she recognized that they were small, thin things covered with words, like if a screen couldn’t change back to videos from the intermittent PSAs.

Tanka took her by the hand to an empty table in the corner. “These are my friends.” He gestured to the activity on the other side of the room. “They’re going away. I want you to go with them.”

“Where?”

“It’s a place where there are no watchies.”

“Like here.”

“Kind of. But not just one building. No watchies anywhere. No screens. No pharmas.”

“You’re coming too?”

"I have to stay with Mother.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I’ll join you later.”

“When?”

“Look, okay? It’s for the best. Mother wanted you to have this.” Tanka took a plastic candy box from his pocket. He pulled a shiny gray string out. From it hung a shiny gray lump. She remembers its shape vaguely. Mother used to draw that shape in the foggy bathroom mirror after giving her baths. Tanka dropped the foreign item into her palm. She was surprised by its weight and, also, the peculiar coolness to the smooth surface of the lump part.

“It’s called a necklace, because people used to wear the chain around their neck,” he explained.

“Why?”

“Well, this one’s in the shape of a heart. It symbolizes love.” Tanka explained, flicking the clasp on one side so the heart opened to reveal two people. Gertrude frowned at the strangeness of the two inert countenances seeming to stare back at her. It was like two mini screens, but the videos didn’t move. It was just two still, stiff faces. One reminded her of Mother, but it wasn’t quite her.

“That’s our great-great-great grandmother.”

“And the other?” she asked, steeling herself against a growing unease.

“Her love.”

Neither noticed Ali’s sudden appearance behind Gertrude’s shoulder. “Why’s he look so... funny?” Gertrude pressed.

“The girl’s got a damn good question, Tanka.” Ali interjected while snatching the necklace from her.

Tanka huffed, visibly tense, nearly caught off-guard. “I brought her some skin patches too, Ali, to hide it. Obviously.” he claimed.

Ali smiled. Gertrude felt a cold snap at the back of her neck despite a sudden sweatiness there too. “Zitkala,” Ali started.

But she interrupted him boldly, “Only Tanka and Mother call me that.”

“You’re gonna need a new name anyway.” Ali replied curtly. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself to Douglass and Hoffman? Help them pack those bags?”

Gertrude waited for a slight nod from Tanka before doing so. Ali and Tanka lived inside a silence until Ali closed the locket. The gentle echo of the click was the singular expression of his rage. Even his voice came out reasonable and smooth. “You’ve had this this whole time?”

“It’s nothing.” Tanka responded, matching his intonation.

“It’s the only proof I’ve ever seen. That anyone I know has ever seen.”

“It doesn’t prove anything. Not in terms of today. Could be existed, past tense. We don’t know who’s on the other side. We never will. All we can do is make something worth keeping on this side.”

“Exactly!” retorted Ali. “That’s why you should be coming with us. You’re jeopardizing our mission. Betraying the ideals.”

Tanka stopped him by looking him in the eye. They were storming and steaming at each other. They deliberately broke away at the same moment, leaned against the wall, and watched Gertrude. She’d found some contraption from TI. She was smiling, near to giggling, turning it about in her hands, pushing buttons and winding knobs.

“The right thing to do, for me, is to give her my spot on the vehicle.” said Tanka, each word coming out heavy. “Because I love her. The right thing for you to do, for the mission, is to take her. She’s smarter than the rest of us put together.”

“The test doesn’t lie.” Ali intoned.

“The test doesn’t lie.” Tanka repeated.