Echo Part 2: Science Class

Part 1: Talking To Strangers is my previous post.  Thanks!

            Sally, lost in her thoughts, walked down the hall toward her class.

            “Hey Sally, nice dress.  Was the Goodwill having a sale?”  A few snickers accompanied the usual lame joke that, because it was mean seemed to be clever.  Sally ignored them and walked a little faster.  She tried to angle her head forward and will herself to be in her classroom.  Her legs felt like they would stumble any moment.  Unfortunately, a few lockers away from room 102, her backpack was shoved off her shoulder, and Candace blocked her path.  Candace was as big and strong as any boy in school and her breath smelled like pickles.

            “Hi Candace!”  Sally said as brightly as she could.  Candace squinted her eyes at such obvious fakery.  Sally imagined Alec crashing through a window, doing a shoulder role, and coming up with a kick to Candace’s belly that would send her straight through the wall.

            “Hi Smelly!”  Candace’s pickled words swept over Sally’s face.  She tired not to roll her eyes.

            “I need to get to class.”

            “You need to get out of my face.”

            “Well, actually…”

            “I know what you’re gonna say, but I don’t care.”  She then gave Sally her mean face, which was pretty scary.  Finally, Sally backed up and walked around her to get to her class, her backpack hanging from her elbow.  She took her seat near the row of windows where she could spend the class gazing at the silver dollar eucalyptus trees and doodling.  She found that she could get by in school if she either did the assigned reading or paid attention in class.  When her name was called, as it sometimes was, she did her best to piece together what was being asked of her.

            For long stretches she found herself watching the wind shiver the leaves.  When she looked down at her notebook, she found a series of concentric circles filling the page.

            “Anyone else have any thoughts on this?  Sally?”

            Sally looked up quickly from her desk as all eyes turned to her.  She quickly turned her eyes toward the board as her inner focused illuminated last night’s reading.  Science.  Physics.  Atoms.  She sees a drawing on the board of two arrows pointing towards each other’s points.

            “I think it’s weird that nothing really touches,” She said after a moment.

            Ms. Gleico nodded.  “It doesn’t feel like that does it?  Everyone, pay attention to things you are touching right now.  The clothes on your body, the desk and floor under you, your arms on the desk.  Or head touching desk.  Billy!  Sit up!  It’s hard to believe but what you are feeling is electromagnetic force.  Your hand atoms and the table atoms never touch.  They are repelled by each other.  They get close, but, like two magnets don’t actually touch.”

            “So,” Candace began, if I throw a pencil, at, say Sally, it won’t really bounce off of her head?”  Snickers scattered around the room.

            “That correct Candace, but you really will have detention.”  Ooooo’s and laughs filled the room.  Sally raised her hand.

            “Sally, I don’t want this to continue.”

            “No, Ms. Gleico, I was thinking about what you said about atoms.

            “Oh, okay, go ahead.”

            “If my hand atoms aren’t really touching the table atoms, does that also mean one hand atoms isn’t touching another one.”

            “No one atom can touch another.  Well, that’s not exactly true, but basically yes.”

            “So what makes me, me?  If the parts of my body aren’t rally touching?

            “That’s a great question, Sally, and I think we would need to look at what you mean when you say ‘me’ or ‘touch.’

            “Well, Ms. Gleico, this should make Candace feel really good.  It’s not just her brain that’s not really there, but everyone’s.”

            “Oh my god!”  Candace squealed.  “Did you hear that Ms. Gleico?”

            “I did Candace, since she was talking to me.  All right ladies, let’s call it a draw and get back to talking about schoolwork if you don’t mind.”

            Just after Ms. Gleico turned to write on the board, Sally felt a small wooden object bounce off the back of her head.  She smiled and whispered, “that didn’t really happen.”

Echo Part 1: Talking To Strangers

            The child’s footsteps surround her.  The tunnel’s darkness seems absolute, sandwiched between the semicircles of light at either end.  Panting, she runs toward the other side, her hair patting her shoulders, urging her on.  She is eleven years old with spindly legs that are accentuated by the white socks she pulled half way up her shins.  She watches the light bounce as she runs, until she bursts forth in front of the lake.  There, beneath the blue sky again, she lets herself lean over a fence post and peer down into the water and watch herself catching her breath.  Sufficiently recovered, she takes the lake at a measured stroll.

            The grown-ups don’t pay her any mind.  She tries to look each one in the eye.  The old ladies are too focused on getting their exercise, the couples watching each other.  Sometimes someone, it could be anyone, looks at her and gives a little smile, and she smiles back, or says good day, or simply nods.  She wants to be noticed, to be remembered, to be seen as a regular here.  She reaches into the pocket of her dress and fiddles with something.  Her smile is bigger, her steps quicken.  She walks into a gazebo and leans over her reflection again.

            “Nice day for a walk,” a man’s voice says.

            “Yes it is,” Sally says, her eyes still on the water.

            “I’ve seen you here before.”

            Sally looks up to give a polite smile because she doesn’t know what to say.  The man is standing a few feet away.  She can’t see his face because he looks down into the water.  He has black hair that looks wet and wears a long black raincoat.  Sally looks down at her bare legs and arms, then squints up at the sky.  It is so blue and bright it is almost white.  She shrugs and looks back in the water.

            “How many fish do you think are in there?” the man asks.

            “A thousand.”

            “A thousand?”

            “At least.”

            “Have you ever counted?”

            “Well, no.  But it’s a big lake.”

            “Have you ever swam in it?”

            Sally looks at him.  “You can’t swim in there!”

            “Why not?”

            “You’re not allowed.”

            “What’s that?”

            “I said…”  Before she finishes he turns toward her.  He is younger than she thought, just a few years older, still a boy himself.  He flashes her a smile, then hurtles over the wooden rail.  His coat billows up behind him, catching the air like the wings of a black butterfly, then like smoke, and then he sinks into the water.  Circles ripple out.  She waits, but feels no fear.  His confidence keeps him safe in her mind.  But after awhile the ripples are gone and he still hasn’t appeared.  She leans over, as far as she can, squinting into the water.

            “Hello?  Mister?”

            Nothing but a slight wave lapping the roots, like the tide in the ocean.

            “Ta da!”

            She jumps back and spins around.  There he is with that same grin, completely dry.

            “How did you do that?”

            He smiles, his eyes alive.  “How do you think?”

            If he had said, it’s magic, or, you wouldn’t understand or even not answered, she would have been mystified and in awe.  By asking her to tell him what he did, she immediately begins to deduce.

            “Well, you either dried really fast.  Or you didn’t get wet in the first place.  You could be the first guy’s twin.  You’re not his twin are you?”

            He laughs.  It has a pleasant sound and makes her feel comfortable.  “No, I’m not my twin.”  His calm makes him seem older, a young grown up.

            “Okay.  Don’t tell me!  I’m going to figure it out.”

            “I’m sure you will.  Hey, kid.”

            She has already bit her lip and looks into the water, trying to throw out some more theories.  She looks up when he called her.

            “I don’t know your name.”

            She tilts her head.  “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name.”

            “Really?”  He steps toward her, the smile on his face, confusing her.  “Are you supposed to even talk to them.”

            “Well…I’ve been thinking about that.  It’s okay to say hello and to answer people when they ask a direct question, like what time is it?  I don’t want to be rude.”

            “So we are having a polite conversation.  Well, good.  You shouldn’t be telling strangers your name.  But I can tell you mine?”

            She shrugs, attempting to look bored.  “I guess. If you want.”

            “Call me Alec.  I’ll see you later kid.”  Without another word he spins on his heal and walks away.  His boots, which she just noticed, clip clop on the asphalt as he leaves her, continuing on down the path and out of sight.  She had no doubt that if she ran around the bend to follow him he would be gone.