The World of Hope

by Parker Fentress

  “Knock, knock, knock!” Someone was at the door. “Luis, it’s me,” my said from the other side. I gave her permission to enter. The door slid open.

  “Have you thought about getting a job?” she asked.

  I thought about what she was asking. I replied, “Yeah, I think I will go to New York City and find a place to work.”

  “Why so far away, Luis? You can just stay in town if you want. It’ll be easier. The thing is, I don’t know what you have been through. We don’t. I don’t. I just want to know you are okay, and that you are doing what you want to do, whether preoccupying yourself keeps the past from affecting your life,” she said with tears in her eyes.

  I replied, “Mom, I am okay. I will take the train in, it only takes an hour. Maybe I can just go to school there. Stay in student housing. Make new friends, get off of this Army Base.”

  Choking back tears, she replied, “If that is what you want, I don’t want you to leave forever. I will be sad if you lave us and not at least come back to visit. We want you here on weekends or if you have a day off during the week.”

  “Mom, I will look into it. I promise. I am not saying I don’t want to be here because it makes me rethink what has happened the past years. I just want to experience something new. I will be back. I will visit. It will all be okay. I am still your little Luis,” I remarked just to console her.

  I love my mom. I never thought I would see the real her again. I always thought the fake smiley one would be the one I would have to deal with for the rest of my life like on Planet KS.

  I walked over and hugged her. She nodded her head and said she loved me.

  “Goodnight, mom.” I replied.

  The door slid shut. I turned the volume up on the television.

  The news reporter looked into the camera, “and this just in,” she looked away and then back again with watery eyes, “The Global Government Unity has issued a blackout emergency. I repeat, the Global Government Unity has issued a blackout emergency. Please turn on your radios and please prepare for power to cut until noon tomorrow.” She started breathing heavily, “This… this is all for now. We have no more information. Goodnight.” The television cut out and shut off on its own. The lights remained on.

  Frightened as I was, my heart raced with anxiety. I sat on my bed, I pulled down the blankets and back over my body. I hid from the cold and in the warmth, I closed my eyes and held them tightly shut.

  The lights cut off. All power gone.

  I listened to the scrambling of my parents. My dad was talking quietly, trying to whisper to my mom that he’s worried I might be turned or something of the like to being on the alien’s side.

  I turned on my radio. It was silent. The frightening thing was that a blackout had happened on Earth. Not since I was alive and not since I had been gone from my home planet. The aliens had never been so close. Why have they not been destroyed?

  I had thought about Samantha. I figured she probably was upstairs, above her father’s small diner. I could picture the city in darkness. In all places though, I could never imagine a small diner like that, right on a corner street being submerged into the black liquid glue of darkness. I figured in all of it, if I could be anywhere it would be there, because if there was or isn’t a tomorrow, I’d have to end it somewhere I had only been once.

  The blackout remained, and it continued well until noon the next day. The television flipped on, but there was a group of people standing in black suits. Much like those of KS.

  4

  I sat with my family in the living room. The men stood center frame on the television, silent for five minutes. A voice came from within, but their mouths didn’t move and you couldn’t see their faces.

  The faceless voice said, “Earth. What is Earth? The planet on which we live; the world. Described to those outside as stable, dense, nonvolatile inorganic substance that makes up the human body. Earth, its existence is many things. It is war, it is peace, it is “let’s move forward!”

  “I am here to tell you today, we are not for the sky or from KS, we are a group of militants who will educate the so-called humans of Earth, what it is like to be alien. You have two things wrong, and that is which humans who are alienated somewhere on other planets are foreign bodies to us. Second, if they are not from Earth they are not human. WRONG! The government has told you wrong. This war is not about the discoveries, and human versus human. This war is about something smaller. Something the Global Government is hiding from you. Something they had to bind together in order to protect you because there would be no world peace without it.” The holographic television cut off.

  We all stared at the television. We looked at the blank space where the horrific picture used to sit. Then instantly, a commercial popped on with President Crysler, “This is the World Embodying Government Council. Please do not be alarmed by the previous media. The blackout has been contained, all can resume normal activities and work. We would like to thank you for your participation in todays demonstration.” The television cut out again and all power was restored.

  My dad got up, and he looked around for the remote to make sure the television was turned off for good. “That was nothing. Probably just a glitch in the system. You guys need to get off to school,” he said.

  I got up looking at the time. It was strange how one second my parents would be afraid and paranoid and their eyes went from heavy to empty. Filled with nothingness. It was not scary to them. It was normal. On Earth, it seemed all people I shared the truth. The war was still in session. It was all more mental than a physical war.

  I sat dressed for school. I was pressed as to what I should wear. It was one of the first of many days, so close to being back to my normal routine. Perhaps in the future I could drive a car, travel the world, go to work for scientific researchers, or write novels about things that the government wouldn’t let me write. I wish.

  I waited outside for the bus. My mom yelled from the doorway, “Luis, you need to look at getting your license. I think dad and I have an idea on what car we could buy you.” Strange timing she had, but I replied, “okay mom,” as I waved and stepped onto the bus.

  The buses had changed so much. They hovered over the ground, as they approached they lowered close to the ground. I wish it were a train and that I was going somewhere other than jail, otherwise known as school.

  I sat near all the talkative kids by mistake. They reminded me of little babies who cry and scream for no apparent reason. I thought they too would change, but they never did. Just talkative little crybabies, so self-absorbed that they all could live-in small-town suburbia and no one would ever complain.

  A very high-pitched voice came from beside me, “HEY! I remember you! You are Luis Phillips, right? Your dad is the Fleet Commander!”

  I smiled, “He used to be the Fleet Commander, but he retired after he returned home.”

  “Oh, I heard about that, I am sorry. That is terrible. My dad died last week working in the factories. He was hit in the head by one of those large moving saw machines. They said it was instant.” I looked at him with sorrow and worry, but he moved on changing the subject without allowing me to reply. He continued, “Do you remember me from school, in our Battle Strategies class with Ms. Brakely? We were partners for nearly all of her projects.”

  I did remember him! His name Tommy Bombardi.

  Tommy was excited that I remembered him. He excitedly said, “Oh my gosh, it has been way too long Luis. We need to hang out, all my friends are practically dead to me, and I dread being home with my mom all day long, every single day. She acts like just because my dad is dead, her life if over. I sit in the kitchen everyday trying to console her, it’s like the world has ended and she died too, she cries all the time. It’s depressing. Let’s go see a movie tomorrow or hang out. We can meet up at the Crossing Town Center, and we can check out the ladies and all that hoopla and hopefully have an exciting night for once!”

  His enthusiasm was unl
ike any other I had seen since my return. It was like we were all doomed, and after all he had been through he didn’t seem to mind. He just wanted to do this and do that, so I thought it was a good idea to reconnect. I remarked, “Yeah! That’s a good idea Tommy! I haven’t been out since I returned from the….” I trailed off, as I had to recall what the people at the Agency told me about never telling anyone where I had been. So, I lied and told him I was away at boarding school.

  Tommy chucked and said, “Oh gross. They sent you there? What old hags, my mom tried that with me for a good week. It didn’t last though, I was such a terrifying child that they had to send me home. Oh well. It was nice to finally recognize someone worth talking to Luis. Thank you for the five-minute chat. Too bad we are almost at school. Maybe we will have some classes together. Anyway, I hope to see you later!”

  The bus pulled up to the school very fast, and quickly lowered, almost as if I was on a roller coaster.

  I said to Tommy, “It was nice to see you, if you look me up in the database you can find my messaging information there; it should be up to date. If not, I will see you on the bus again later. See ya!” I got off the bus and walked over to the scheduling office because I had no idea where to go.

  I walked into the office with my hands in my pockets, an old man at the desk spoke, “Good morning young fella, what can I help you with today?”

  I need to speak with someone to get a schedule. I haven’t been to school in God knows how many years, and I don’t even know which path they have me set on, whether it be the advance or regular path since I skipped a few grades.”

  “He replied, “Sounds like quite the situation for one of the first few days of the school year. What is your last name?”

  I responded, “P-H-I-L-L…”

  He yelled and laughed at the same time, “Goodness, please stop yelling boy! I know how to spell your last name. I am not a deaf or dumb old man.” He walked over to the filing computer, and pulled up my name. “Ah, Luis, there you are. Your scheduler is Ms. Grislie. She’s down the first hall on the left,” he pointed.

  I said, “Thank you sir.” I walked down the left corridor. I tapped on the glass door. Ms. Grislie yelled, “Come in! Oh wait, hold on.” Things sounded like they were being shuffled around inside and she hit her hand on the wall and finally the door slid open. Her office was a mess. It really bothered me, her messiness and my OCD didn’t blend well.

  I held back as she greeted me. Ms. Grislie talked fast with a smile, “Hi there Luis Phillips. My name is Ms. Grislie. Not a bear, or whatever that thing out there likes to tell students these days. Please sit here, and we can get your schedule all figured out.”

  She then got agitated after noticing a pile of books that were placed on a chair. She moved them quickly by throwing them on the pile of books and papers beside her desk. “So, it looks like there is a story behind you Luis. Officially our records don’t indicate where you have been,” she slapped her hands together and looked at me with bright wide-open blue eyes. She then asked, “What does that mean for you? Where in Gods name have you been?”

  I replied, ‘Honestly, my parents sent me off to a boarding school. In Minnesota, so I couldn’t really tell you how the record system works here. I think it is all on paper.”

  “Oh good Lord. Paper. Your files are long lost Luis. Never thought I would encounter a situation such as this. I should contact the authorities and inform them of this crime. I thought paper was well overdone!”

  I felt bad, “No, it’s okay Ms. Grislie. It was the Army Based Government Boarding School.”

  “Oh, so they had permission, but noooo all we get are fancy touchscreen computers, and by computers, I mean an ugly basic square silver box that shoot out images onto a piece of glass for me to type away on. How does that make sense to the government?”

  It appeared to me in that moment, this lady was insane. Whatever her story was, I didn’t want to know. I did want to know why she was such a mess though; emotionally and physically, a mess. Her bright orange hair didn’t help, her large big round black glasses, and her pale white skin. I wouldn’t have thought they’d hire such a dedicated art major to do the scheduling. I felt so judgmental.

  She said to me, “It looks like your teachers looked very highly on you. Your English teacher, yes, the one who was fired, which is beside the point but her statement is such that she felt you should be in the accelerated program here at the school. I am placing you in classes where you will be challenged. Is there anyone you know or still remember that you want to connect with? I can place you in two classes with people you know and or remember or maybe not so.”

  I felt a bit of excitement, “I just reconnected with a friend, his name is Tommy B. He’s nice, as for the other class, I would like to be placed with students from my past but I can’t recall their names right now.”

  Ms. Grislie responded, “Sure thing, you’ll be in Tommy’s Geology class. It sounds like a fun class to take, so inspiring. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks!”

  I laughed when she bounced her head to the imaginary music. I suppose she tried to calm herself from overheating throughout the day, she finally handed me the scheduling papers. “Thank you, Luis, have the most wonderful day at school,” she smiled and turned around. The entire back of her head exposed everything that made sense, circuitry and bright colorful wires came out of her neck, she was a robot. I walked quickly out of her room.

  The old man asked, “Did you get what you were looking for?”

  I remarked, “Yes, why is that thing in there? It isn’t even clean, is it even intelligent?”

  “Hey! That’s my wife in there, now get out of here little boy!” he yelled sarcastically, cracking himself up again.

  I walked swiftly outside and back into the main building to my first period Geology class. I knocked on the door and realized something familiar. The teachers name was Ms. Brakely.

  The door slid open, “Why hello there! If it isn’t Luis Phillips. Oh my, it has been such a long time!” she said with her Michigan accent. She was older, thinner, and had brown curly hair. Just as fit as she was before, with a bright white smile, and caked with make-up. “Good morning, Ms. Brakely! I can’t believe you still teach, I never thought I would see you again.” I said excitedly. I was so happy! I looked around the room and spotted Tommy. I sat in the empty seat beside him. I didn’t recognize any of the other students in the room.

  Ms. Brakely went on introducing me to the class. “Students, this is our newest edition to the class. I am sure you will find Luis just as intuitive and as helpful as I can be. If you ever need any help, he is a good friend to have.”

  Everyone stared at me, some smiling, some not. Some were asleep. It felt good to be back, I felt I belonged here. It wasn’t a figurative jail sentence, this was home.

  When I sat beside Tommy, he looked at me with excitement and whispered, “I can’t believe we have this class together. Just like old times, right?”

  I whispered back, “Right, this is going to be a good year!”

  I sat happily wondering if Tommy would annoy me towards the end of the year, or if we would continue to be friends. Nothing was ever permanent, but it was as good as it was going to get, then I was ok with it because at least I was not being beaten by the Councilor’s beefy guards.

  Mr. Brakely went on with her lecture, smiling the whole time. I was so happy to be in the most unfamiliar place, with such a bright familiar teacher.

  5

  Home. I thought about it on the bus floating over the grey cracked road. What was home? Some said it was a place someone stayed at permanently, other said it was a play one lived. Does that make everywhere I “live”, home? Home was indefinitely the origin someone wanted to be. It was a place where both organic culture and the definite idea which one was happiest. Home could be many things. It’s meaning was not universal. Home could be horrible. It could be starving empty winters on the edge of the Siberian Mountain, to the homeless
dry lands of the Saharan Desert.

  Whatever home was, it was not here. I rushed inside my home and went to my room. I searched for answers. Answers to questions like; Who saved me? Was I the only one? and most importantly, Why was I there?

  These questions guided my thoughts, like an obsession. Like an art gallery, each question was presented like a masterpiece, a painting. A painting, which when deciphered carefully, still didn’t provide any clear answers.

  I couldn’t remember if I had eaten. I had the shakes, but I kept moving forward. I thought about what had happened. I deserved answers. The government wouldn’t let me in. I thought this is treachery, this is not democratic, this is illiberal. My rights had been taken away. They claim this to be a free world, but I was sent to a foreign planet. Not inside my head, or because of delusions; I was intentionally sent to Planet KS, on the count that, I Luis, would indeed help end the war, in turn ending my life almost in a near cataclysmic catastrophe!

  I flew down the hallway, and I screamed objecting to where I thought my family was, “Can I please go to the Art Gallery in New York?” I asked.

  In response, a solid voice came in return, “Luis, come here.” My dad called.

  I started walking into the living room. Into the space, of filled family furniture. “I don’t think that it is a good idea for you to go into the city right now. There are people on the streets, terrorists, and they are terrorizing, stealing things, things like people. Who knows where they are being taken, it just isn’t safe right now. I don’t think you should go,” my dad remarked.

  I responded rudely to my dad, “I think I will be fine. I survived whatever crazy event I went through the years prior, oh wait, I don’t think we could about that since I’d be committing espionage.

  He said in return, “This has nothing to do with last year, or you going to boarding school.” This is about what will happen if you go into the city alone. If you get stuck with the wrong people we won’t be able to help you. There won’t be a fleet of people to help you. What if there is no coming back?