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Life and Production: S1 E2: The Time Step Blues

Symphony receives an A grade on her test.

By Skyler SaundersPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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The Palatial Estate

Preston Lesane pressed his royal blue pants and ironed his black shirt. He fixed his striped tie in the mirror. His sister Symphony dressed herself in her grey and burgundy skirt and white blouse. The middle schooler, Preston, helped his little sister gather her materials and assignments once they were both dressed. Whitney Middle School and Ashley Elementary Learning Center, Preston and Symphony’s schools respectively, offered them a private education all funded by donations and advertising. Saffron Lesane, twenty eight and standing at five feet seven inches, ushered her brood to their respective places of thinking and instruction, emphasis being placed on the former and followed by the latter. Most of her skin was the color of the the opulent spice for which she was named. She had white splotches on her skin due to vitiligo. Her face seemed to be cut from marble to form some bygone goddess. She called up to the pair as they scurried about collecting a pencil here, a smartphone there.

“Alright, you two,” she said, “time is calling.” The three of them exited from the palatial estate. Saffron motioned for the sleek Goulding Z-Set, a pristine metal, glass, leather, wood, and rubber specimen which exemplified success. She dropped off Preston first as his school started earlier than Symphony’s.

“Thank you. See you afterwhile, mom,” Preston chimed.

“You take care of yourself and learn your lessons,” Saffron said.

“I will.”

Raise

The Z-Set floated from the front of the school’s entrance and skated back onto Terrace Road. Saffron stretched back and picked up her tablet as the vehicle eased through the avenue. This time Morality Way. She glanced over at Symphony who studied the trees. With the ThoughtCarriage software in the car, mother and daughter could look at each other without worrying about oncoming traffic. The Z-Set handled that. When it finally arrived at the address that Saffron had programmed it to always go to with just Symphony in the car, the two hugged and Saffron placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

“Alright, now learn your…”

“...Lesson. I know, mama. See you later,” Symphony said.

“Take care of yourself,” Saffron said. She began her classes at 10:30 AM. She never arrived late and demanded the same of her students. As the Diamante Bank Chair of mathematics, her department bestowed upon her awards for excellence in teaching. A straight-A student throughout her life and valedictorian in high school at age twelve, Saffron also graduated from college egregia cum laude from baccalaureate through doctorate. She commanded her classroom with the wit of a poet and the drive of a locomotive conductor. She initiated every class gathering by firing up the projector so that the students across the globe could view her discussion. The class, consisting of about fifteen students present in a physical sense, extended across Earth with thousands more streaming her class online.

“Who can show me the right-handed coordinate system as a graph?”

In seconds, the entire class took to their tablets like yellowjackets being stirred up by a swift rod strike to the nest. Each of them raised their electronic devices to display x, y, and z axes and a right hand.

“I’m impressed. Now, what symbol does a derivative look like?”

The class across the country, around the planet, and yes right in the room all quickly sketched a d with a sort of drooping ascender. They held up their work.

An Interesting Unit

“Excellent,” Saffron said. After class, a man stopped her in the hallway. Pale and of slight build and bespectacled, he stood a little over five feet tall. He wore a dark blue velour suit and tan penny loafers.

“Oh, hello Professor Wert. How are you?” Saffron said this, her voice flat and tinged with indignation.

“Saffron, how great it is to see you. Say, I would like to discuss some of your work that you’ve been doing at the Delawisdom conference coming up. Maybe we can discuss the plans for the new wing for preserving Earth Studies?”

She looked at him square and said, “No. Thank you. But no.”

Professor Holtzclaw Wert recoiled. He fixed his glasses and straightened up a bit.

“Well, that’s just too bad,” Wert breathed. “Some other time?”

Saffron shook her head and walked past him.

She picked up her two adventurers from school. Well, actually she programmed the Z-Set to do just that. She graded some term papers on her tablet in the interim and had already forgotten about her impromptu rendezvous with Holtzclaw Wert. With a few taps, she designated an assignment a pass or fail, but mostly passes. As the vehicle moved through the city of Wilmington, Saffron selected from the audio system a song which always seemed to relax her and stimulate her all at the same time. “The Respectful Blues” oozed through the sound system which featured subwoofers and tweeters. The quality of the woman singing, Bertha Mae Hemmer, made it seem as if she intoned her philosophy on life into Saffron’s ears. The notes, so crisp, appeared to wash over her body and entranced her for the fifteen minute ride to Whitney Middle School. Saffron laid back in the nappa leather and let the sound surround her. She sipped a potent potable of her own creation. She dubbed it Eso and it was a kiwi strawberry wine which she and Lesane had dreamed up on vacation in Ocean View, Delaware. When she had reached Preston’s school, she greeted him with sincere enthusiasm. She tapped the console to allow Preston to enter the car.

“How’s my boy? What did you you do at school, Prez?” Saffron asked.

“Hey, mama. We studied stalagmites and stalactites,” Preston said.

“Well, I can say for sure that that is going to be an interesting unit. Do you have homework?”

The Next Selection

“A little.” Mother and son rode together to pick up Symphony. She sipped the wine while Preston drank from a juice pouch. They both reclined their seats and Preston, who also enjoyed the blues, became contented by the intriguing words and deft instrumentation. As the Goulding Z-Set curved up to the entrance of the Ashley Learning Center, Symphony darted out of the building like a sprinter leaping into action at the sound of a starter pistol. She glided into the Goulding.

“Hey Mama, hey Prez,” Symphony said. “Guess what I got?”

“What is it, honey bun?” Saffron said.

Preston peered at his younger sister.

“It’s an A on my history of Underground Railroad conductors!”

“I must say that you’ve made me proud, Symphony,” Saffron said.

Preston nodded. As the Goulding played the next selection “The Time Step Blues” by The Derrick Diggs Trio the Lesanes enjoyed the ride back to their Wilmington home.

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