A dark room. Shuttered curtains. Messy bed. An early morning.
The sound of a toilet flush disturbed the morning peace, as a young woman steadily walked out of the washroom. One hand unconsciously held onto her belly, while the other reached for the door frame. Moments later, she rushed back and purged her empty stomach into the toilet bowl. Tears fell as she cursed the gods, her knees raw against the cool porcelain tile, and one hand still on her belly.
Hours later, she scrolled through her contacts list on her phone and spoke with an uncertain voice. Several sentences later, a dead-pan tone beeped back at her as held her phone in disbelief. She threw her phone against the wall and let-loose a howling sob of pure agony. She sat on her bed and cried, her arms squeezed tight against her legs together. Yet despite all the intense emotions and the torturous sobs, the shadows of the room only seemed to grow.
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Sharp smell. Disinfectant. Nurses all around. Father stared in disapproval.
“You're a disgrace to the family!” He spoke in a tempered rage, “Out of wed-lock, and you bear this half-breed. As of right now, you're no longer a Bloomington. Write down whatever name you want to give yourself. Do it and we'll pay off your hospital debts here. Maybe even your credit cards if you agree right now. But I NEVER want to see you again. Your mother would turn in her grave if she knew. Don't contact us, and don't try to find your brothers or sisters. Amanda Bloomington is dead.”
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Amanda shuffled her footsteps as she walked down the sheet, one hand held her son and the other dragged a beaten pink suitcase. A ragged-looking dog plodded along next to Amanda, as if they were out for a morning walk. Amanda noticed a group of people near her age – early twenties, chatting and laughing, as they walked from one immaculate building to the next – a university campus.
Her eyes twinge as she instinctively remembered her old life, of rich family and planned-out futures. Extravagant parties and crazy clubs. Suddenly, a wiggle of discontent brought her out of her day-dream.
“Mommy. I'm hungry”.
These words tore at her very fibre, and she resisted the urge to break down on the spot. She knew that it would not help the situation, and her son depended on her.
She quickly browsed around the street, and looked at her cracked plastic watch. It's barely 10AM, and it'll be at least another ten hours until the evening soup line is open. Even then, it's not guaranteed that they would get a spot.
With a quick mutter, she quickly recounted the average daily calories her son had ate in the last week. Despite the situation, Amanda retained her brilliant sharpness and memory. With a quick frown, her hand deftly re-counted a few large coins in her inner pocket. Exactly $3.55, partly relieved that she had not lost any, yet partly cursed that the amount wasn't quite enough to survive the week.
She had lived on the street with her son for five years already, and her innate smarts allowed her to make a living on the streets. Several minutes later, she entered a bakery and instinctively gulped at the smell of delicious bread.
Hot and moist. Buttery, yeasty goodness. Freshly-baked bread.
Amanda shook her head as her son fidgeted in the alluring smell, and Amanda prayed that her son wouldn't cry and ruin the panhandling process. She stood in front of the cash register, and waited, as the shopkeep came to greet her. Amanda took a single glance at the countertop, and got the gut feeling that it would not go well. The shopkeep was clearly the store owner, rather than the usual part-time university student.
“Good morning,” Amanda spoke with a clear voice and a prideful smile, though her clothes appear to be slightly dirty and her hair without shampoo or conditioner weeks. “I'm wondering if you have any left-over bread from the day before, that I can have? Or any stubs or dried pieces? Not charity. I'll buy the left-overs from you. I'll pay for the ingredient cost?”
The shopkeep frowned for several moments, before he gestured to a flimsy piece of plastic that stood next to the cash register.“Hrm. You're good. Smart. Not charity. Buy food at-cost from store owners. Unfortunately, we're already supporters of the local food donations program. We send all of our unsold breads to the soup kitchen.”
Amanda kept a straight face as she politely nodded, yet it felt like her stomach had suddenly gained a dozen knots. She replied with an inaudible whisper, before a loud shriek interrupted her.
“Mommy!! I'm HUNGRY!!”
Due to the commotion, a tall and lanky man arrived from behind the counter, dressed in an apron and hands covered with flour. He stared at her for several seconds, and exclaimed, “Amanda! Wha... What are you doing here!”
Amanda tilted her head slightly as she peered back at the man, unable to recognize him.
“I'm Alex, your house-keeper's son! We haven't seen each other in forever! Boss, give her your famous deli-special sandwich. I'll pay.”
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“Dinner's ready!” A plump teenage boy shouted out. “Mom, dad! Hurry! The fish'll get cold!”
Two large sofa-sized capsules opened up with a click, and both Alex and Amanda climbed out. The teenage boy placed a large casserole dish on the dining table, and with a wild grin, he lifted the lid. A large puff of aromatic steam escaped from the dish, and with practiced movements, he threw a handful of chopped herbs onto the fish.
Once everybody had properly seated, Alex stood to serve the casserole dish onto individual plates.
“Mark. Whichever girl that manages to catch you will be in for a world of gluttony!” Alex joked as he served a large portion of the fish to the plump teenage boy.
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“Do you have a girlfriend yet? Or someone that you like at school?” Amanda prodded his son with a question, half-joking, yet half-serious.
“Mom!! I'm only in Grade 8! Nobody has boyfriends or girlfriends!” Mark quickly burrowed his head into his bowl and hid his embarrassment. “Everybody is too busy playing Emperor III. There's so many changes as compared to the previous version! The Virtual-Reality effect is leaps-and-bounds better than all the competitors, plus all the mobs are true AI, instead of reactionary to certain key-words like the older head-gear type VR games. Even the food is amazing in that game!”
“Hah. Two things that make you tick: food, and food in VR! What kind of a future are you going to pursue? Virtual Reality studies have a lot of potential. Or go to chef-school? At least in the foreseeable future, all us meat-bodies still has to eat food and exercise in the real world.” Amanda said in a concerned tone.
A saddened whine escaped from the corner of the room, and Mark rushed toward an elderly dog. “Aw. Good girl, Reechee. I didn't forget about ya! You probably smelled what I made for you! Premium high-protein, high-fat dog chow! Only the best for you!”
Mark entered the kitchen and brought out a dog-bowl, topped high with brown and pink chunks. He carefully brought the bowl next to the dog, and gently patted the floor, near the bowl. “I know your eye-sight is going, girl. But you can still smell the delicious food I made for ya!”
He fondly smiled at the elderly dog, and reminisced about the old days of being on the street. The two of them would huddled for warmth during the winter, and took breaks under the shade of trees during the summer. Being on the streets is tough for a child, and Reechee was the only friend that Mark had. No parent wanted their child to play with a homeless kid, and thus Mark spent his youth with Reechee by his side. He truly loved the dog like a family member, and meticulously planned out the Reechee's meals, of equal importance to himself or his mother.
“We're not starving anymore, Mark. You don't have to buy and cook so much food everyday! Reechee is old and fat, and you'll turn into a butter-ball!” Amanda jokingly teased Mark, yet her eyes are filled with sadness and regret.
“Hah. Hun, it's fine. Let him do what he wants. The world's an easier place to survive now. Robots and autonomous machinery does so much of the basic labour, and everyone gets the Guaranteed Universal Salary provided by the North American Union. In fact, more than half of the people in North America are professional shoppers! It's good that he has a hobby and can develop his interests.” Alex smiled and reached out for Amanda's hand.
“Still...” Amanda lingered on her thoughts, “Mark, back to our conversation, what school do you want to go? High school is just a couple of months away... Maybe go to your uncle's school? It's a private, live-in school, dedicated to the study of Virtual Reality. It even has a super popular professional-gamer curriculum. The school's got a large wait-list, and routinely has VR celebrity as guest lecturers. The vice-dean is a Korean fellow that won the first global VR prize.”
Alex stared back at Amanda with a raised brow, and his hand tightened around hers in support.
“Dad passed away two years ago, and my brother, Jeffrey, decided to contact me. I don't really resent them, and they've always wanted to see and dote on their nephew”. Amanda grinned back toward Alex in sadness. “Besides, it's a private dorm-style campus, and it'll be good for a young man to leave his mother. See the world and grow up.”
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Bang!
The back gate of a pick-up truck slammed shut, as Mark placed all his possessions in four neat cardboard boxes. With the vehicle's light flashing amber, Mark stood on the driveway, between his family and the autonomous cab-vehicle. Amanda displayed a variety of emotions: happiness and sadness, pride and regret, yet most of all, was the feeling of loss.
With a few hushed whispers, Amanda pulled her son into a long hug, before she reluctantly released him. Mark grinned sheepishly at the embrace, and said, “Mom, dad, take care! I'll call you when I arrive. It's not that far, and I'll come back every couple of months! You can always log-in to the VR-chatroom and you can meet with me there!”
“It's just not the same... It'll be so empty without you in the house” Amanda barely let out a whisper as Alex protectively wrapped his arms around her.
Mark frowned as he stuttered and said, “Mom, I know I've caused a whole ton of trouble for you. I could've been an orphan, but you didn't throw me away. All because of me, you've suffered so much... I...”
Mark's voice dried up as he tried to summarize his feelings. Decided to end on a cheeky note, Mark quickly said in a teasing tone, “Uh... Anyways. Now I'm gone! Isn't that what you wanted? Me out of the house, so you two love-birds can give me a little brother or sister?”
Both Alex and Amanda stared awkwardly at Mark, then broke into a heartfelt laughter. The previous tension and sadness quickly washed away by the innocent provocation. Mark keeled down and reached out his hands toward Reechee. He lovingly patted and stroked the family dog, and ultimately gave it a warm kiss on the forehead. “I'll miss you the most, old girl. You keep strong, and I'll come back to see you. I'll develop an even more delicious treat for you! Just wait till I come back!”
Reechee responded with a soft and soulful whine, and rubbed her neck against Mark. After a few minutes of hugs, licks, and giggles later, Mark hopped into the autonomous cab-vehicle and wave goodbye to his family.
“Next stop, adventure!”