Season 1, Episode 4 - The Microwave II - "The One-Minute Burrito"
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Friday evening.
“I told you, it’s not here.”
“Did you check under the cushions?”
“Of course I did, Reed, that’s the first place I checked.”
“Let me check.”
Isaac sighed as Reed moved around the two cushions of his gray couch. He gritted his teeth as he looked at the current state of his apartment. His bed was a mess, its pillows on the floor; he would have to reorganize his VHS collection, having been moved around so much from its usual assortment in his bookcase, which was now jutting out from the wall at an angle so they could check behind it. His mint-condition “Cardraptor” Sakaki Opening Theme Magical Girl Outfit figurine was carefully placed on his kitchen counter, next to his limited edition Yukiko Okada Cinderella Idol Omnibus, hopefully out of reach from Reed’s careless hands.
He didn’t trust Reed when it came to the internal affairs of his apartment. He shouldn’t have trusted her with that VHS in the first place.
Reed finished looking under the cushions and looked back at Isaac with a shrug. “Guess it’s not here.”
“Of course it’s not here! I gave it to you last week!”
Isaac sighed and collected himself. Reed didn’t look hurt, but still.
“Alright, I’m sorry for yelling,” he admitted. “But that tape is due Sunday night, and if I don’t bring it back to Dave’s, that’s a 25 cent fine every day. It’ll ruin my good name there.”
“Today’s Friday, you have time. And even if you don’t, why don’t I talk to him?” Reed offered. “I’m sure I can get him to give you an extension.”
“No offense Reed, but I’m not taking part in your incest survivor lie. I have standards.”
“You do?” Reed gestured toward the children’s magic girl Japanimation figurine.
Isaac crossed his arms. “I have standards regarding lying. And lying about incest.”
“Suit yourself.” Reed moved toward the door, but Isaac quickly blocked her path. It was a narrow apartment, so that wasn’t particularly difficult. There was the front door, the kitchen immediately to its left, then the couch-coffee table-television set up, and the bed at the end underneath a window that let the Friday evening autumn air inside. The walls were painted white, and there was just enough space between the television and bed for a bookcase.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Isaac asked.
Reed didn’t back down, looking straight into Isaac’s eyes. “I’m only here because Audrey invited us over, remember? She said she had a surprise for us.”
“That surprise isn’t going anywhere. First, we figure out where the VHS tape is.”
“It has to be somewhere in here,” Reed countered. “I gave it back to you.”
“I rented it, I gave it to you, and that’s all I know.”
“Well, I brought it with me when I came here a few days ago, and I didn’t go back to my place with it.”
“You didn’t come here. You went to Audrey’s.”
Reed blinked.
“Oh.”
Seemingly satisfied, she turned on the television and took a seat on Isaac’s cushion-less couch and looked around.
“Hey, where’s the remote?”
Isaac stood there, not understanding. “You left the tape at Audrey’s. Can you go get it?”
“It’s not going anywhere,” Reed repeated. “We can get it later.”
Isaac sighed. “I’m getting it now. I won’t feel right until I have it my hands.”
Reed ignored him and kept watching television, only to immediately yawn.
“Christ, you’re gonna bore me to death. Why are you on the state-owned channel?”
Isaac crossed his arms. “They were running a special on the Congo before you got here. It’s important. Do you even know what the Congo is?”
Reed smiled wryly. “It’s when you all get in a dance line, right?”
Isaac sighed. “That’s a conga line. I’m talking about the Congo. The Nigerians, South Africans, and East Africans are all competing for influence there. Think of all the resources they could get their hands on. It’s gonna be a flashpoint for sure.”
“Why don’t the Congo people get the resources?”
“Well...” Isaac didn’t know how to properly explain to Reed the dynamic forces of imperialism, proxy wars, and ethnic tensions. He also didn’t know why he focused on the outsiders in the region rather than the plight of the poor natives.
“The countries there are...backwards and undeveloped,” Isaac tried to explain, utilizing theories from school he learned. “They don’t have the skill and education to get the resources and use them right. So others come in and do it for them, I guess. And it helps the Congolese too, I think. Like when the foreign powers come in, they build roads and schools and stuff.”
“Do the Congo people get richer?”
“...maybe?”
Reed rolled her eyes and cursed modern politics in general and the state in particular.
I swear, if I was in charge, I’d do things right, she thought. But I’d have to be in charge and that would such a hassle. I can’t even get up to change the television channel.
“Hey, Isaac, change the channel for me.”
“Get up and do it yourself, you bum.” Isaac blinked. “Help me find the VHS from Audrey’s!”
“I need proper motivation, and whatever the hell’s on the television right now isn’t doing it.” Reed yawned as Chuck Banner, New England’s most popular news anchor, read a special report.
“Last week, Professor Yasuhiro Beskov of Wampanoag University left his post for an unannounced leave of absence,” Chuck explained. “The professor is known for his disloyal, treasonous acts against the New England state, specifically his call for the resignation of President Pulaski. His basis for the resignation is a number of allegations that have not, and cannot be proven...”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“That’s malarkey,” Reed muttered.
“What’s malarkey?” Isaac asked. “He’s a professor. He’s supposed to be teaching the next generation. You can't just be teaching kids false things about the state and the President. It weakens our national unity.”
“He just wants to teach kids to think,” Reed explained, just a small hint of passion growing in her voice. She smirked. “It’s so they don’t end up like you.”
Isaac shook his head and sat down next to her. “I’m the golden child here. If anything, kids oughta be scared about growing up to be you.”
“Kids would kill to be Hibiscus Reed. Do you know how blessed you are? Not everyone gets to bask in my presence, you know.”
“Don’t get too cocky, kid.”
Chuck continued. “A few days ago, we learned that Professor Beskov is currently holed up in Elizabeth Pond, where Chairman Josiah Stockham has granted him temporary clemency. When we asked about potentially harboring a traitor, Stockham explained, in his folksy way of talking, that when a man comes into his home, he at least has a duty to provide him with food and shelter before sending him on his way. As for how long he’ll provide that food and shelter remains to be seen, especially as Chief Ezekiel Amien of the State Police has made it clear that Beskov has overstayed his welcome.”
“He oughta turn him over,” Isaac supposed.
Reed looked at him indignantly. “Turn him over? Why the hell would Stockham do that?”
Isaac shrugged. “Stockham’s a nice guy. But a little too nice. He’s only hurting himself by keeping Beskov around for too long.”
“So you think he should be turned over to the Staties?”
“...well, no. But he should be handed over to someone else, at least. Like the Military Police or Armed Forces.”
“You’d get the military involved in this?”
“The military’s involved with everyone. But they’re, you know, full of discipline and things. They’d listen to reason. And if this Beskov guy is actually innocent, I’m sure the military would do the right thing.”
“You’re a simple guy, Isaac. Really simple.”
“Well that’s why you keep me around, right?”
Isaac stood up, remembering his initial mission. He turned the dial on the television until it displayed an old Italian cop film.
“I know you like these,” Isaac explained. “There’s food and water in the fridge if you need it.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Isaac moved toward the door, then thought about what just transpired.
“And find the remote while I’m gone!” he ordered, shutting the door behind him.
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“Ooooo-oh shush...keep it down now...voices carry...”
Lynn half-hummed, half-sang an old song as she watered Mackenzie’s plants. The three potted plants displayed a healthy green shine, evidence of disciplined caretaking, and if anyone could give disciplined caretaking, it was Mackenzie. Lynn could just picture it, the daily routine Mackenzie followed to the letter, a precise watering of her plants for three cups each, in a particular order, at particular times.
Mackenzie would be away for the weekend. Due to her stellar academic record, the Academy accepted her application for a weekend pass to visit her family back in the suburb of Pennacook. Before she left, Mackenzie asked Lynn to take care of her apartment while she was gone.
“Here’s a list of the details,” Mackenzie explained, rather frantically, signs of stress already showing on her face. Mackenzie gave Lynn the list on Monday morning at their school lockers; she wouldn’t leave until Friday. Mackenzie was the kind of girl to get things done ahead of time.
Lynn looked it over. “You wipe down your apartment every night before going to bed?”
“It’s good stress relief,” Mackenzie explained. “And for your information, it’s not every day. I take Saturday nights off.”
Lynn read the list. “Sweep apartment...water the plants...take the trash out...hey, I mean, I’ll do it, but couldn’t some of this stuff wait until you get back? It’ll only be three days.”
“You think I’m going to let three days' worth of dust accumulate in my living space?” Mackenzie questioned. She leaned her back against her locker and crossed her arms. “The conditions of your living space reflect the conditions of your mind. A tidy, neat apartment is a tidy, neat mind.”
Lynn smiled. “You know everything.”
“Not everything. Just the things I know.”
Lynn read down the list. “Very carefully wipe down the microwave. Why so carefully?”
Mackenzie leaned in close, making Lynn slightly blush.
“I’ll tell you a secret. You can’t share this with anyone else. My microwave...it’s a New York Minute.”
“A New York Minute!”
Mackenzie immediately placed her palm over Lynn’s mouth. “Not so loud!”
She then drew her hand away in disgust. “Did you just...lick me?”
Lynn smiled mischievously.
Mackenzie sighed. “This is the one piece of contraband I’ll ever allow myself to possess. Once you’re able to microwave a two-minute burrito in one minute, you can never go back.”
“Wow! How does it work?”
“By overclocking it. You make the microwave work faster than it’s intended to. You do so through careful application of the Rddhi. I guess every Rddhi user in New York has one. Thankfully, some of them have trickled their way over to here.”
Mackenzie raised a finger. “Don’t try anything, though. It requires very careful manipulation of the Rddhi. When I get back, I’ll show you how to do it properly.”
Lynn saluted dutifully – and slightly cheekily.
Mackenzie exhaled in relief. “Thanks for doing this, Lynn. I figure I can give you twenty bucks a day and that’s three days so-”
Lynn raised a hand. “Aw, don’t worry about it. This is what friends are for. If you want to pay me back, then you can do so by saying hi to my family for me while you’re home, alright?”
Mackenzie smiled. “Of course. I really wish you could’ve come home with me, you know.”
Lynn shrugged. “Aw well, if I wanted to go home, I should’ve thought about it before failing my biology quiz and getting denied permission. It’ll just make going home for Thanksgiving all the better!”
Lynn waved goodbye. “Enjoy Pennacook for me! And tell my brothers that no matter how tall they grow, I’ll still whup them good! And my sisters too!”
Mackenzie nodded.
“Will do, Lynn! But...I’m still here for another five days.”
Back in the present, Lynn waved goodbye to Mackenzie at Furukawa Station, watching as train pulled away on the elevated rail for the district-border crossing. She then made her way to Mackenzie’s apartment and got to work on the list. Between the humming to herself and some cartoons on the television, the work seemed to be done in no time.
All that left was the microwave.
Lynn froze in place as she saw it. The microwave was a normal black and gray, sleek in its design, but there was no doubt that it held a real, raw power within it. The type of power nations would go to war over. The type of power that could reduce the time it took to microwave a burrito in half.
Half!
Lynn wiped the sweat off her brow. She could not give into temptation.
She stepped away, then immediately looked back at the New York Minute. It stared back at her mutely, yet strangely inviting all the same...
In just one minute, I could be eating a burrito.
Lynn shook her head.
No, no, no! I swore to her I wouldn’t use it.
Lynn took another step away, then immediately reached into Mackenzie’s ice box and pulled out a frozen burrito.
I’m just putting the burrito in the microwave, just to see what it would look like, Lynn rationalized in her mind as she pulled the wrapper off of it. I’m doing everything up to the point of giving it control over me. Like that one cancer patient in that old book with the cigarettes. He dies at the end, but I liked the metaphor.
The burrito was in the microwave. Lynn closed the door; her fingers instinctively reached for the dial. She swatted her own arm away.
No, I musn’t!
But a two-minute burrito made in one minute...
No one man should have all that power.
It’s too much.
But I have to see.
Lynn sighed and collected herself. “Okay, Lynn Falls, you can do this. Turn the dial to a minute, carefully apply the Rddhi, and get that minute shaven off. Me and Mackenzie can have a good laugh about when she gets back.”
Lynn carefully turned the dial, the Rddhi building up in her hand as she did so. As the dial reached the minute mark...as the Rddhi completed the surge up her hand...Lynn let everything go in a carefully controlled burst.
The New York Minute immediately caught on fire.
“Hmm, is the fire why it only takes a minute to cook?” Lynn wondered.
She quickly realized that the fire was not the reason why it took a minute to cook.
“Fire! Fire!” Lynn exclaimed. She looked around; the watering can for the plants! She immediately picked up the can and threw it at the fire. That did not extinguish it at all; instead, the flames only seemed to grow.
Lynn stood in front of the fire and began exhaling as hard as she could.
Wait...don’t fires like oxygen?
Lynn took a step back. If she didn’t do something fast, the fire would engulf Mackenzie’s whole apartment.
Think, Lynn, think!
Wait, I got it!
Lynn grabbed several cups from Mackenzie's cabinets, filled them with water from the sink, and began pouring them out onto the microwave. Slowly but surely, the fire diminished. Lynn kept up her work for what seemed like an eternity; finally, the fire was reduced to smoldering smoke.
Unfortunately, so was the microwave.
Lynn caught her breath and realized that she had placed herself in quite the pickle.
“...aww, rats...”