Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet
Page 3
Jack raised his hand. “I’m confused,” he said.
“About which part?” asked Green.
“Uh… all of it.”
Green laughed. “That’s not surprising, I suppose. The key thing to remember about quantum theory is that it is WEIRD. That’s a technical term we science-lovers like to use. It means funky, counter-intuitive, mind-boggling. It’s confusing because our brains aren’t used to thinking about things in that fashion. But let me see if I can explain it in a different way. Reality – which is everything we can see, hear, and touch – begins and ends with us. Each and every one of us is an observer, which means we are all constantly creating measurements to which the atoms around us adhere. Because of this, the physical world we see around us is actually created by our own minds. It is we, the observers, who create the reality in which we live. So those chairs you’re sitting in aren’t chairs until you choose to see them as chairs. Make sense?”
“So you’re saying that our brains tell atoms to turn into different stuff, and they do it?” asked Jack.
“In a way,” said Green. “Try to think of it like this – all reality begins and ends in the mind of the observer. The universe is nothing more than the vivid imagination of our brains, which chooses to see certain things but not others. All the stuff we see around us is not determined by the external world; it’s actually determined by us! So it’s our minds that actually choose to see only one possibility out of the infinite probabilities that exist. And by observing one of those possibilities, we make it true. So all matter – everything that could possibly exist – is already out there somewhere. It’s not until we choose to see it that it enters our reality.”
“Are you saying that our brains don’t tell atoms to turn into stuff; they just choose to see one possibility that’s already there?” clarified Jack.
“Yes!” exclaimed Green. “Exactly! So there’s a probability that you’re not actually sitting on a chair. You’re sitting on a huge mushroom. But your brain chooses to see the possibility in which atoms are arranged in such a way that make a chair, so that’s what it is.”
“Then why is it we choose to see chairs and not giant, comfy mushrooms?”
The Professor shrugged. “That’s one of the great questions, isn’t it? Why is our reality the way it is? What dictates our observations? Some believe our subconscious mind is aware of every single possibility that could exist, and it is not until our conscious mind makes an observation that one of those possibilities is decided upon. Why is it that we’ve all decided to see a chair instead of a mushroom, considering all the other possibilities our subconscious is aware of? If one of us decides to see something else, would that change how others see it? Are we capable of literally changing reality, simply with the power of our minds? According to quantum theory, the answer to that is ‘YES!’”
Green looked over his class as the wonder of possibility began to worm its way into their brains.
“So what does that have to do with alternate realities and all that other stuff?” asked Jack.
“Well, let’s do a little experiment, shall we?” said Green. “What’s behind you in the back of the room?”
The class, almost as one, turned and looked behind them.
“Nothing,” said Jack. “Just a wall, a table, a few microscopes…”
“Okay,” said Green. “Now everyone look forward again.”
The kids all turned their attention back to the Professor.
“Now, without turning around again, tell me… what’s behind you in the back of the room?”
“A wall, a table, and a few microscopes,” said Jack again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they were there just a second ago.”
“They were there when you observed them a second ago. But right now, when you’re not observing them, there could be anything behind you. Right now, your subconscious mind is aware of an infinite number of possibilities that could exist in the back of the room. It’s not until you make the act of observing what’s back there, that you settle on one of those possibilities, and the atoms are arranged to suit that choice.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Jack. “Right now, in my subconscious mind, there’s the possibility that a supermodel in a bikini is chilling in the back of the room, and if my brain chooses to observe that possibility, she’ll be back there?”
“Exactly,” smiled Professor Green.
At that moment, Jack, and every other boy in class, eagerly turned around to take another look. As expected, there was no supermodel, just the same old microscopes there had been before. A chuckle spread through the class.
“Dang,” said Jack. “I don’t think this quantum physics stuff is working, Professor.”
More laughter. Even Professor Green chuckled. “That’s where you’re wrong, Jack. Quantum physics is always at work. It’s we who choose the reality in which we find ourselves. And unfortunately, once we’ve chosen a reality, it is very hard for us to perceive anything else. But if you were able to free your mind, and consciously choose to observe a different reality… to actually shape the world around you as you see fit… then anything is possible. Even the bikini model.”
At that, Jack had to smile. The thought that he could make anything a reality just by thinking about it tickled him. He’d first give himself a ton of money, then he’d get a date with Anna, and then he’d make Mr. Shepherd himself have detention for the rest of eternity.
It was too bad that none of the stuff the Professor was talking about actually seemed to work.
At least, not yet.
Chapter 4
River Heights High School’s cafeteria was one of the largest areas in the school, second only to the gymnasium. Unlike the rest of the building, which was decorated with sickly green tiles, for some reason (and no one was really sure why) the cafeteria was adorned with boring beige tiles that climbed a quarter of the way up the walls before giving way to stucco painted a color which had at one time been white but was now pale yellow from age.
Students lined up against the walls, waiting for their turn to buy whatever passed as food in the kitchen toward the back of the room. Above them were painted various inspirational sayings from famous historical figures, intermixed occasionally with the cartoon image of Barry the Beaver, a friendly little rodent who was the official school mascot.
For an hour a day, the cafeteria was filled with the commotion of students seated at the long neat rows of folding tables stretching from one end of the room to the other. Lunch was one of the few parts of school Jack actually enjoyed. Indeed, Jack often looked at lunchtime as his sanctuary. It was when Jack could forget about all the bad stuff he had to suffer through during the day and just relax with some of the few people he actually enjoyed spending time with.
First off, there was his best friend Matt Nunan, who’d been Jack’s partner in crime since the two of them first got into a fight over who got to play with the red Mighty Morphing Robot Ninja in the first grade. Matt’s mom was white, and his dad was black, but on the color scale, Matt tended to skew on the lighter end – a fact that really annoyed him. Thus, Matt dressed in extremely baggy clothes, sports jerseys (even though he never played sports), and attempted to grow his hair out into dreadlocks - a process that made him look like he had constantly just stuck his finger into a light socket.
Then, there was Jasper Kreig, whom everyone called “Chunk,” an unfortunate nickname Jasper had been given in the third grade due to his short, squat, and rather rotund frame. Chunk was widely regarded as the class clown, always willing to yell out a funny quip, make an inappropriate farting sound, or flash various parts of his anatomy when the situation called for it (and even when it didn’t).
Peter Mercer and his sister Norma were there, too. Though Norma was a year older than Peter, they both shared the similar features of a weak chin, long neck, and extremely scrawny legs. However, even though th
e two of them looked similar, they couldn’t have been more different when it came to their personalities. While Peter was goofy, Norma was serious. While Peter was laid back, Norma was prone to over-reacting. While Peter was all about swords, sorcery, and high fantasy, Norma was about biographies, documentaries, and quite a bit of prim-and-proper girlie stuff.
Then there was Gothy. Her real name was Gretchen, but her penchant for wearing an abundance of black eyeliner, black lipstick, black fingernail polish, black clothes, dyed-black hair, listening to the most depressing music imaginable, and writing extremely bad poetry about the pointlessness of life had earned her the nickname.
Finally, there was Yoshi, a foreign exchange student from Japan. Yoshi was an extremely skinny kid, with eyes so narrow Jack was surprised he could see out of them at all. Yoshi had been very popular when he first showed up at school last year. He was quiet, shy, extremely polite, and the nicest person anyone could ever possibly hope to meet. But soon after all the upperclassmen had taught him every swear word they knew and had him repeat them to the teachers a few times, the novelty quickly wore off and Yoshi’s so-called “friends” began ignoring him. That’s when he found Jack and the others, and with their help, his English had been greatly improving – though his habit of using the swear words he had learned at the most inappropriate times still was a problem.
Since Jack had forgotten his lunch again, the group had pitched in to make sure he didn’t go hungry. In fact, it was so common an occurrence that everyone had taken to packing a little extra food, just for him. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich from Matt, an apple from Chunk, a granola bar from Norma, and an orange juice box from Yoshi made up his current meal.
“So,” said Matt, “heard Shepherd gave you detention again.”
“Yeah,” growled Jack. “I swear, that guy has it out for me.”
“Want me to try and get detention, too? I could slip some laxatives into Mr. Jacob’s coffee again.”
“Nah, no reason for both of us to suffer.”
“Just say the word, dude,” said Matt. “I’d totally lax up Mr. Jacob for ya.”
“I know you would, buddy” smiled Jack, patting his friend on the back.
“I had detention with Mr. Shepherd once,” chimed in Chunk. “It was creepy. He just stares at you the whole time with his serial-killer eyes.” Chunk pried his eyes as wide as they could go to emphasize his point.
“He does that to me, too,” said Jack. “He looks at me like I just took a dump on his mother’s grave or something.”
“I’m telling you guys,” continued Chunk, “Mr. Shepherd has KILLED people before. I’m convinced. He’s got that crazy ‘I’m-gonna-rip-out-your-lungs-and-gaze-into-your-gaping-chest-wound’ stare. I bet you he eats them after he kills ‘em, too.”
“You say that about everyone you don’t like,” complained Norma. “According to you, half the student body are a bunch of serial-killer cannibals.”
“Did you know human flesh has almost no nutritional value?” intoned Gothy.
“I’m serious about this,” said Chunk defensively. “That dude has definitely eaten people before.”
“In Japan,” chimed in Yoshi, “teachers very strict. Many like Shepherd.”
“No wonder you wanted to get out of the country,” quipped Jack. “Can you imagine a school full of Mr. Shepherds?” The very thought sent a cold shiver down Jack’s spine.
“Well, hey,” said Peter. “Maybe Yoshi could give you some advice on how to deal with Shepherd if he’s had to put up with hard cases like him for so long.”
“Good idea,” said Matt. “How’d you deal with your teachers back in Japan if they were so strict?”
“You do your work, obey rules, be good student,” said Yoshi, smiling.
Everyone took a second to look at Jack.
“Sorry, buddy,” said Matt good-naturedly. “You’re screwed.”
With that, the whole group shared a laugh. Even Jack had to admit there was no way he could do what Yoshi was suggesting, even if he tried. For whatever reason, Jack was never much for work, rules, or even being much of a student for that matter.
As Chunk started doing an impression of what Jack would act like in a Japanese school, Jack caught a glimpse of Anna sitting by herself at a table near the far wall. She was huddled away with a brown bag lunch of chips, juice, and what looked like a small Tupperware container of leafy greens. As usual, she was reading, sitting in the same place she always did, by herself.
Before every lunch period, Jack would try to think of a way to talk to her. But no matter what scheme popped into his mind, each one had the fatal flaw of actually requiring Jack to WALK up to her and open his mouth in a way that made words come out. Many times he had almost done it, but for some reason, he’d always chickened out at the last minute, with the hope things would be different the next day.
But they never were.
“Uh-oh,” said Peter. “Looks like it’s that time again.”
Jack turned back from Anna to the group. “Huh?” he asked. “What time?”
“You know,” teased Matt. “The time where you stare longingly at the girl of your dreams, try and muster up the courage to finally go over and talk to her, and then totally do nothing.”
“Gimme a break,” said Jack. “Like any of you have the stones to do it.”
“I do!” said Chunk. “All the ladies loooove Chunk. Ain’t that right, Norma baby?” Chunk started making kissy-faces at Norma, who abruptly threw some chips at his face.
“You disgust me,” she hissed.
Chunk smiled and winked at Jack. “It’s a forbidden love,” he said, happily munching on the chips Norma had thrown at him.
“Love is the gateway to despair,” intoned Gothy.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you see in her, Jack,” Norma went on, ignoring Gothy’s morbid interjection. “She’s a frigid, anti-social ice queen. She’s mean to everybody.”
“Who cares?” cried Chunk. “She’s haaaawt!”
Norma punched Chunk on the arm, causing him to squeal. “It doesn’t matter how hot she is, stupid. She doesn’t like anybody. It’s almost as if she thinks she’s royalty and we’re all beneath her or something.”
“She’s right,” added Matt, patting Jack good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Might be time to move on to easier pickings, my friend.”
“Look, you guys have got her all wrong,” said Jack. “She’s not mean, or stuck up, or anything like that. She’s just… different, is all.”
“I’ll say,” said Chunk. “She’s the spawn of Shepherd. Mark of the beast! DEVIL CHILD!” He started flicking his tongue out of his mouth wildly, trying to look as evil as possible.
“Knock it off,” said Jack, putting a kibosh on Chunk’s fun. “She’s nothing like that. I’m sure that if people just took the time to get to know her, they’d find that she’s really a great person.”
“Well, someone’s about to find out,” said Peter.
“Huh?’ replied Jack.
Peter nodded his head toward Anna. “Check it out,” he said.
Jack turned his attention back to Anna. To his horror, J.C. Rowdey appeared to be strutting up to her, a big, dumb, cocky grin on his face, with his cronies cheering him on from their table.
Jack felt the cold grip of terror seize his heart. Oh, no, he thought. Not this; anything but this!
Despite the fact that in Jack’s book, J.C. fell into the category of “raging jack-hole that no one in his right mind could possibly like,” he had to admit the guy had a few things going for him. First of all, he was good-looking. Second, his family had a lot of money. Third, he was captain of the football team. Fourth, he was extremely popular. Combine all that with the fact that Anna hadn’t been around long enough to actually know what kind of a creep J.C. was, and suddenly he found himself with the makings of a very dangerous situation.
With a flourish, J.C. kicked out the empty chair by Anna and smoothly slid in next to her. Anna looked up from her bo
ok, somewhat surprised by her new visitor. J.C. flashed his winning varsity smile, then leaned in and began talking to her.
“What the heck is he doing?” Jack wondered aloud.
“I heard Marietta Edgecombe say J.C. was going to ask Anna to the Homecoming dance,” Norma said.
“What!?” exclaimed Jack. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I dunno,” said Norma innocently. “Who cares if the meathead wants to go out with the ice queen?”
“Me!” said Jack. “I was going to ask her to the dance!”
His friends all chuckled.
“Chillax, hoss,” said Matt reassuringly. “She’ll probably turn him down. Just like she’s turned down every other guy who has tried to date her. Just like she’d probably turn you down if you ever found the guts to ask her out.”
“Thanks,” said Jack sardonically. “I feel much better now.”
“That’s what friends are for, buddy!” replied Matt with a smile.
Despite the friendly dig at Jack, Matt was right. There wasn’t a scenario Jack could imagine in which Anna would ever agree to date someone like J.C. Rowdey. And that was somewhat comforting. But still, Jack watched from afar with baited breath as J.C. made his move.
It was obvious Anna wanted to go back to eating alone and reading her book, but J.C. was oblivious to her polite attempts to ignore him. Instead, he slithered up beside her, still flapping his lips, and even went so far as to put his arm around her shoulders. His dumb meathead face was nuzzled by her ear as he whispered something to her.
It was apparent that Anna was uncomfortable with the entire situation. She gently grabbed J.C.’s hand and pulled his arm off her, said something to J.C. politely, and then turned her attention back to her book. J.C. glanced toward his minions, who were all watching. Then, he forced a smile back on his face and put his arm around Anna again. He pressed on, and it was clear Anna was growing more and more agitated with his advances.