Solitary Devotion

“I couldn’t even believe he still had it!” Robert shouted, reaching for the golden knob of my office door.

The glimmer from my light therapy lamp reflected from his squinted eyes as tears began to form. He took his short finger and wiped away the tears on his flushed face. He stuttered trying to compose himself.

“And- And then she just ran into a corner and screamed over and over again. AHHHH! AHHHHH! AHHHHH!” he mimicked, finally twisting the knob to exist.

His yellow smile reappeared as loud and boisterous laughter filled the air.

I smiled, a bit uncertain of what to do. On one hand he was poking fun and being very cruel and apathetic towards a member of his own four. On the other hand, he was happy. I decided not to psychoanalyze his joy— this time. Besides, the session was over and it was time for my midday meditation.

“I’m glad you’re able to maintain such a pleasant state, despite the chaos in your four. I encourage you to continue doing that. See you tomorrow.” I reached out to hug him, but he just slapped my forearm.

“See ya, Rod.” He spoke, finally breathing normally again, before making his escape down the hall.

I closed the door gently and exhaled. I had no idea I was holding my breath, but I guess it’s not surprising. Robert was my Goliath. He was the mountain that I was here to climb. I’d only just gotten comfortable in my new space and there was absolutely no way I’d give it up now.

Robert was 35 years old, tall and fit, with great charm and intellect. He was at the perfect age to really be putting in the work to move on. Every other patient in my first cluster seemed earnestly devoted to their healing, and making great progress. Not Robert. If I didn’t have such vivid and recent memories of what it’s like living in a four I might believe he genuinely liked it. But then again, I may have had one of the worst.

I was partnered with Emma. She wasn’t the worst part of the deal, but her obsession with facts and data was overwhelming, to say the least. In the beginning, I thought her beauty might make up for how irritating it was to be corrected constantly. It didn’t. Andrew and Roki were partnered together and the three of them together were like what I imagine American prisons were like in the 21st century. Utter chaos.

One morning while we were in the hygiene area getting ready to start the day, Andrew began screaming out of nowhere. He was so upset because Roki had used the same toothbrush three days in a row and he was sure we’d get docked for individualism if she didn’t switch with him on the fourth. She’d already started brushing and refused to stop because she didn’t want us to be late starting breakfast. Not only that, she refused to discuss it with him, which only caused him more anxiety. At which point he yanked the brush from her mouth, accidentally elbowing Emma in the process. Not only did we get docked that day, but we were scored so low that it took another year to make up for it. Two months after that we’d earned a larger refrigerator. Which is all Andrew really cared about anyway.

~

I walked down the long corridor towards the room I’d been assigned and sighed. This time with relief. I worked so hard for this. Rodney, my name, sprawled across the front of the rusted metal door in bright Red and Yellow lettering.

My bed seemed to be calling my name, but I knew that if I became lax now, I might not be able to continue on as a Therapist, which would mean moving back into a four. No way on Earth was I letting that happen. In fourteen days, I’d be evaluated for my progress with each patient in my cluster. There were forty, in total. I had no concerns about the progress of everyone else, but Robert had me stumped. I’d been working with him for ten weeks and nothing. My administrator warned me that he was difficult, but assured me that I’d make progress if I was diligent and patient. I’d been both things and more, but he had such a way of making me lose that confidence.

Every person I’d ever met was either a healing practitioner or working very hard to be one. After the Global Rebellions of 2232 and 2233, the world was left in shambles. People back then had been dreaming of an apocalypse for centuries. Building shelters, writing stories, mapping out blueprints and plans; but none of them could have prepared for what happened afterwards. Humankind was so dependent upon the advanced civilizations for fulfillment that no one knew what to do when there was nothing to fight for. The chaos of the rebellions faded because their enemies were defeated and they had all the freedom they’d always dreamt of. And they had no idea what to do with it. People started going insane; obsessed with individualistic ideas about possessions and independence. Almost no one wanted to marry or have families or even live near one another. Those who did were still so self-interested that they couldn’t stand being around other people long enough to socialize. They were all desperately lonely, and yet deathly afraid of their lives being influenced by other people.

It’s all very interesting, really. We learned all about it, as kids, in primary school. In 2960 a group of emotional intelligence researchers overseas came together and created The Uni. In it, people would be romantically partnered and given a family at the age of 18. By then, reproduction had dwindled to almost nothing and half the population was mentally sick. So, one of the most important aspects of the plans for the Uni was that everything would be done in groups or pairs, until you could pass tests that prove that you were capable of such great empathy and emotional intelligence that you could live alone and still be willing to devote your life to the betterment of others.

I had to prove myself.

I shook the thoughts from my head. “Focus”, I mumbled to myself, relaxing into a deep inhale and exhale.

~

“So, how much progress do you think you’ve made, Robert?” I asked, exasperated.

I hoped it hadn’t shown, but I’d been a bit irritable these past few days. Robert’s evaluation was tomorrow and I was sure that he’d be the reason I’d end up sleeping in a bunk bed and reading novels aloud again.

“I think I’m doing great!”, the smile on his face was almost contagious. He looked so happy. But he wasn’t trying, at all. I had to focus on that.

“So, you think that you’ll score better in Empathy and Considerate Conversational Skills this time? Your scores for Emotional Intelligence and Collaborative Effort are already spectacular. But you’ll need to improve in those other two areas.”

“I don’t know why I scored so low the last time. I feel for others.” He shoved his pointer finger into a whole in his jeans above his knee and twisted it around in circles.

“Of course you do!” I was excited. This was the first time I’d even gotten him to speak seriously about the upcoming tests.

“Well, I think it might make others uncomfortable when you laugh at their misfortune.”

Smacking his teeth and sitting up in his chair, Robert leaned in closer to me with both his hands raised as if directing me to stop.

“Now wait. I don’t laugh because they’re hurting. I laugh because the situations they get into are funny as heck! I mean, what am I supposed to do when Sally gets her head stuck in the railing for the third time this month? Pretend that my ears hurt, too? They don’t. I help her every single time, but I can’t help it. That's funny.” He slumped back into the brown leather chair, smiling.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the difference between Considerate Conversation and lying.” For a moment he frowned. But it faded just as quickly as it came and he was right back to his usual jolly self.

“Besides, I like laughing.”

“I understand.” I decided to change the subject, defeated.

“Did you do the activities I gave you?”

“Sure did.” He opened a notebook and pulled two sheets of paper from the notebook.

“Okay let’s go over those.” I said, pulling my hand from my face after I noticed that I was biting my nails.

“First question was, If I could have a possession that I didn’t have to share with the Uni, what would it be and why? My answer was a son.”

I was surprised by his answer. “You want to reproduce?”

“No. But I remember I learned in primary school about how people used to raise their own children. Feed ‘em. Bathe ‘em. Spank ‘em so they do right. Y’know, teach ‘em about life and watch ‘em grow up. I’d wanna do it like that.”

“Why is that?”, I questioned, a bit forcefully.

“Seems fun.”

“And why would you want to do that alone and not with your four?”

“I don’t know.” He paused looking down at his paper.

“I guess cause I don’t want him thinking it’s normal to stick his head in the railing all the dang time.” He burst into laughter, slapping that same spot on his thigh where the hole was.

“C’mon, Robert. Dig deeper.” I said in a serious tone, beckoning him as if I could pull the emotional depth out of him with just a gesture. He stopped laughing and cleared his throat.

“I—“, he began to speak, his volume much lower than usual.

“I don’t want what everybody wants me to want.” This time I couldn’t help my furrowed brow. What did that mean?

“I don’t—“, I started to say.

“We’re ten over, Rod!” He pointed toward the gold analog clock hanging behind me. Before I could respond he hopped to his feet.

“I’m gon’ be late helping Sally with dinner!”

He rushed out of the door. I could feel my body temperature rising as the anger rushed in. This was my last chance. My head began to pound as sweat formed on my skin and my throat became dry. A loud, low groan came tunneling out of me and before it could morph into a shout, I punched the concrete wall as hard as I could.

“Idiot!”, I screamed. “You’re so stupid!”

I dropped to the floor, tears pouring from my eyes. My hand was probably broken, but I was positive that my heart was. So, I just sat there, alone, hoping that maybe all of my brokenness might mend on its own.

~

I opened my closet door hoping to find matches left by the previous resident. I wanted to light a candle for my meditation session. This would probably be my last day as a Therapist. My body trembled at the thought.

I reached my arms up toward the shelf above me and my fingers gently brushed the edges of a leather-bound notebook. I pulled it down, a tiny heart-shaped locket came tumbling down with it.

I opened the locket and it was empty. Weird.

The word JOURNAL was etched across the front of the book. I opened it, curious. The first entry made my heart skip a beat.

July 1, 2021

All this time, I thought I had to get away. I thought I had to fight my way out. Fight to stay out. And in the end— my end, I am riddled with cancer, this incurable disease and all I want is to turn back time and laugh through the chaos, instead. Is that insane? Or is this the soberest thought of my life?