The 22nd Annual East County Peanut Allergy Awareness Convention was in full-swing. Hundreds of people from all over the local cities, towns, and countrysides all mingled with each other, with hundreds more still arriving.
Standing next to a punch bowl and sipping a plastic cup of said punch, Ruta knew that mingle was a strong word. To put it mildly, the entire convention was like the old peanut allergy table on steroids. Awkwardness hung in the air like a humid July afternoon the day before a thunderstorm, making people sweat and wish they were somewhere else, anywhere but here.
Only Ruta and the five members of the peanut allergy table stood against this sea of boundaries. Their job for tonight was to break all of them. Let them all know that they were in this together. The five members did a great job with breaking the ice, setting up conversations here and there between boys in button-downs and girls in dresses, but it would be up to Ruta to perform the coup de grace and get the party started.
That was a lot of pressure for someone who was lying through their ass. For the umpteenth time, Ruta wiped her face with her handkerchief and tried to run her speech through her head again.
“Young Ruta Applesmith,” a familiar and dreadful voice called out.
Ruta’s jaw slackened. Principal Holloway stood in front of her, a twinkle in his eye and cup of punch in his hand. Next to him stood a stout man in full military uniform, a number of shiny medals pinned to his large chest.
“P-P-P-Prinicipal Holloway, ahahaha,” Ruta greeted, trying not to hyperventilate.
“It’s awfully kind of you to participate in the convention,” Holloway said jovially. “I’m sure your story will inspire everyone here.”
Ruta’s eyes darted to the large exit signs posted over the doors. Unfortunately, they were too far away for her to make a break for it. “Um…yes, I hope so.”
Holloway motioned to the man next to him. “And speaking of inspiration, this is President Garcia of the tropical island nation of El Marcos.”
Ruta let out an honest-to-god squeak. She gingerly shook hands with an honest-to-god president.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Garcia greeted, his handshake strong, his frame imposing.
“What, uh, brings you to our fair country, Mr. President?” Ruta asked, shivering.
Garcia waved her way. “Please, just call me President.” He nodded at a small boy at a nearby table, eating an apple while surrounded by dozens of bodyguards. “That’s my son. Unfortunately, he has a peanut allergy as well. I took him to your country for medical treatment and found myself attending this convention. I believe it might be beneficial for both him and I to hear stories of those who have overcome the boundaries imposed by an allergy, such as you yourself.”
Ruta swallowed and nodded along.
Garcia rubbed his chin. “You see, I also have a bit of a personal problem. The biggest boundary in my own country is that between the government and the people. The democracy of your land…that kind of government removes that boundary, no? I’d like to reconnect with my people. Who knows? Maybe your speech will inspire me to bring democracy to my little island.”
Ruta stymied a squeal.
Garcia leaned over, staring right into Ruta’s eyes. “Or who knows? Perhaps I will come away disgusted with your speech. Or disillusioned. Perhaps I’ll come away believing that such a boundary can never be broken, no matter how hard we try. If we cannot break the boundaries of peanut allergies, how can I break the boundary of autocracy? If your speech fails, perhaps I will be forced to follow my father’s path and expand the secret police, close down schools, reopen prisons, and even change the calendar to reflect my name and popular slogans of the state.”
Garcia gripped Ruta’s shoulders tightly. “Make me believe, Ruta. Please.”
Ruta narrowly avoided passing out. “...yes sir.”
Garcia nodded. “Best of luck with your speech.”
He and Holloway walked off, discussing mundane things like football, as if the fate of an entire country’s freedom didn’t reside on Ruta’s shoulders.
She quickly downed her punch and leaned against a wall, hiding herself behind a tall potted plant, making the utter mistake of believing things couldn’t get any worse.
“It’s him!” someone cried out.
“He’s here!”
“He looks just like I imagined!”
Ruta timidly peeked out from behind her hiding spot and wanted to scream in disbelief.
“It’s BubbleBoy27!” Heart cried out.
It’s exactly as it sounded. The crowd immediately parted, much like the Red Sea, for online celebrity BubbleBoy27. Ruta couldn’t believe her eyes. Having seen some of his videos, she knew he got millions of views for describing the various odds and ends of his daily life.
And his life was sad. Due to all his immune disorders and allergies, he lived the entirety of it inside a plastic bubble assembled within his house. His most-viewed video (well, second-most; his first-most was a video apologizing for some regretful, politically-charged comments) described his ambition to one day leave the house. The technology was there, as evidenced by the caterpillar treads attached to the bottom of the platform that now carried his bubble; but the reason was lacking.
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“I didn't believe I could exit my own boundaries,” BubbleBoy27 told the gawking crowd as his contraption rumbled down the room. “Until tonight. Upon hearing how a young girl inspired an entire peanut table through the power of friendship and sheer force of will, I knew that such powers were inside me all along as well. I may have a physical boundary due to this bubble, but the mental boundary was merely my own creation. Now, where’s Ruta? I want to congratulate her on getting this poor bubble boy out of the house for the first time.”
Heart saw Ruta trying to jump through a window. “Ruta!” she cried out, grabbing her before she could slip out (they were on the first floor). “I know you’re nervous, Ruta, but meeting a celebrity’s not a big deal. The alleged boundary between celebrity and commoner, socialite and the rest of society, is just created by a profit-hungry media-”
“Enough boundary talk!” Ruta exclaimed. Her head pounded and she needed to steady herself against the wall.
Heart gave her a calming hug. “It’s alright, Ruta. You’ve done a lot for us. We’re sorry for asking you to do even more.”
“Damnit…” Ruta mumbled. “I can’t just go back now. I’ll make my speech, and it’ll be the best goddamn speech you guys have ever heard.”
Heart clapped in excitement. With new resolve, Ruta walked over towards the podium, giving a polite nod to President Garcia and BubbleBoy27 as she passed by.
Then Ruta stopped. Standing behind the bubble, not trying to draw attention to herself, was none other than Edith. Ruta glanced at the bubble boy, then back at Edith; they had the same blonde hair, the same shape in their noses.
They’re a conglomerate specializing in medical equipment.
The two girls made eye contact, then immediately looked away from each other.
Each step up to the podium made Ruta feel tiny, the wind having been knocked out of her sails. Holloway already stood at the podium; he tapped a plastic spoon against his plastic cup, quieting the crowd.
“Thank you all for attending tonight’s convention,” Holloway explained. “Every year, Vyse puts on this convention to bring awareness to the blight upon our lands known as peanut allergy. We have some very special guests in attendance-”
Holloway gestured at President Garcia and BubbleBoy27.
“-and a very special speaker.”
He gestured at Ruta, who felt like she was facing a firing squad.
“Without further ado, Ruta Applesmith of Vyse Academy will give our opening remarks.”
The crowd gave claps ranging from polite to ones of worship. Ruta stepped to the podium and could see it all in their eyes; looks of hope and belief in her, because she represented the ability to break through boundaries.
Ruta had to dab at her forehead again.
“Good evening, everyone,” she croaked out. “I, um, had a few jokes prepared to, uh, lighten the mood, but um…”
Hundreds of eyes stared back at her. Some of those eyes belonged to powerful people. In the back of the room Ruta noticed several cameras, broadcasting her speech both on television news channels and dozens of livestreams.
She gulped and held the podium with shaky hands. She tried to recall her speech, but all the pressure, all the eyes, threw up a mental block in front of every word.
“You see, um, I used to deny my peanut allergy. I didn’t want to be isolated, I wanted to s-sit with everybody else. But it got to the point where I couldn’t, you know, deny my allergy. So I sat at the peanut table.”
That made Ruta look over at the group of five. All of them gave two thumbs up.
What am I doing, Ruta wondered. This is all a big sham. I didn’t break any boundaries-
Hey, wait a second, yes I did. Just because I lied, that doesn’t mean I didn’t make these guys friends. I could’ve just let them wallow in self-pity while I enjoyed my vacation from Edith, but I helped these guys come out of their shells instead. Why did I do that?
“A lot of people throw up boundaries around themselves,” Ruta said, deviating off-course from her planned speech. “And, especially nowadays, it’s easy to get locked away within yourself. To just get stuck in your own head. Whether or not you have an allergy, a lot of us live in the metaphoric peanut table, but it’s just that, metaphoric!”
Ruta pounded her fist on the podium. The crowds’ eyes flickered in interest, all of them following every word. “Staying inside that boundary within your head, within that locked room, is the safe option. Because once you leave that boundary, other people come into play. You’re no longer in complete control. But that’s alright. Going beyond our comfort zones and meeting other people is the best thing in the world.”
Ruta smiled at the five members of her table. “Peanut allergy or not, I’m glad we all became friends. Yes, to meet other people comes with fears of rejection and anxiety over looking stupid in front of everyone. It’s just easier to sit inside all day, inside both your home and your mind. But take a step outside that boundary once in a while. Every so often, you must just like what you see.”
Ruta pointed a finger toward the back of the hall. “I have a friend named Sarika. She’s stuck in her metaphoric peanut table right now, throwing up walls to shield herself off from the rest of the world. But she’s my friend. Even if it’s just once in a while, life should be spent with other people, no matter how scary it may be. That’s why, I hope both Sarika, wherever you are, and everyone at this convention tries stepping beyond the boundary every so often.”
The first claps came from the peanut table, then from bubble boy. Ruta looked around; the crowd’s eyes now looked soft, everyone clapping, the sound cascading like a strong wave. President Garcia and his bodyguards started crying. Ruta then made eye contact with Edith, who leaned against a wall in the back corner, her arms crossed. Neither of them made any sort of reaction, just staring at each other, then Edith slowly nodded. Ruta slowly nodded back.
As Ruta enjoyed the immense presence she now radiated, Holloway stepped back up next to her. “Thank you for that rousing speech, Ruta. You’ve truly shown us inspiration today. That’s why, we’d like you to continue showing us inspiration by undergoing a clinical trial for our new peanut allergy removal medicine.”
A record scratched somewhere. “Huh?” Ruta coughed out, suddenly brought back to reality.
“The medicine was made in conjunction between Vyse Academy and AppletonCorp,” Holloway explained. “We’ve already succeeded in our trials using gorillas. You’d be the first human. And, based on the strength of research and your own strength, you’ll be the only human test we need.”
“Is-is-is that how medicine works?”
The crowd all cheered at Holloways’ proposal.
Ruta shifted her foot across the floor. “But I thought I just made a whole big speech about breaking boundaries, even if you have an allergy.”
Holloway placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “I don’t think you understand, Ruta. This medicine is merely the first step. Should it succeed, then we can conquer other allergies. Hay fever. Pollen. Seafood. Lactose intolerance. Then we go a step beyond. We conquer cancer. Dementia. You do want to cure those things, right? If you don’t, then surely, you must not care about breaking boundaries, making your entire speech…a lie.”
Ruta glanced back over at the crowd. Everyone there, from BubbleBoy27 to Garcia, all cheered in encouragement. Only Edith kept a neutral look on her face, staring hard at the other wall.
“Alright,” Ruta said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.”
The crowd went wild.