by Carol Snow
Freesia gasped.
Mother stared at him. “But how could your father let you go back, knowing you did nothing but play?”
“Not true,” Ricky said. “I blogged every day. But that’s not all. During my three years in Agalinas, I read the entire works of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Twain.”
“Are you serious?” Freesia asked, appalled. “No wonder you never made it to class.”
Ricky paused to take a breath. “I miss being free. And I miss the rainbows.”
Freesia swallowed hard. “I miss everything.”
Mother put her hand on Freesia’s shoulder. “You won’t be going back, Francine. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t call me Francine,” Freesia muttered.
A woman dressed in blue medical scrubs entered the bubblepod. “It’s time for Richard’s massage. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”
Freesia sprang up from the stool, shaken by the thought of this Ricky having his body rubbed. The woman in the blue scrubs was right. It was time to go.
“Do you have an e-mail address?” Ricky asked. Freesia told him, and he typed it into his laptop.
“I’d like to talk to some other Bubble World students,” Mother said. “Do you have any of their phone numbers? Or addresses?”
Ricky hesitated. “Yes.”
“May I have them?”
“No.”
Mother said, “I know you think you’re doing your friends a favor. But they deserve a decent education. You all do.”
“Are you going to keep vlogging about Bubble World?” Ricky asked.
“Yes. But I won’t mention you.”
“Thank you.”
Mother and the masseuse left Freesia and Ricky alone to say their good-byes. He closed his laptop, leaving them in total darkness.
“Did you see Jelissa before you left?” she asked.
“Yeah. She came looking for you the day after you disappeared. She’s too sad to shop, even.”
Freesia swallowed hard. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Jelissa sad, unless you counted that awful afternoon when Freesia tried to tell her that Agalinas was not real.
“What about Taser?” Freesia asked.
“I haven’t seen him since we took him out of the cave. But I’ll try to find something out.”
“Thanks.”
Ricky squeezed her hand. “Bubble me later?”
She laughed softly.
“Agalinas was real because it felt real,” he whispered.
32
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: hi
Dear Ricky,
It would be so vicious if we were in Agalinas right now and I could just bubble you. But thinking like that just makes me wiggy so I guess I should stop.
After we left your house we drove down to the harbor but my mother couldn’t find a place to park so we just got burgers from a takeout place and went back to the motel and watched movies. The movies here are better than the ones we used to watch at the Rotunda. But the movies here are better than life here, and in Avalon that was never true.
Now I’m back in Arizona. It was kind of flippy to drive up to my house and recognize it. The bad thing is, the more I remember of life here, the more details I forget about Agalinas. Last night I was telling my sister about our group of friends and I couldn’t think of Cabo’s name for the longest time. When I finally remembered it, Angel said, “That’s a stupid name” and made me leave her room so she could video chat with her boyfriend, Tyler, who she’s never even met.
I think Tyler is a stupid name.
I’ve gone back to school. It’s so borrifying. I just have to sit there while teachers talktalktalktalk at me, then the bell rings and I go to another class and the teachers talktalktalktalk some more. But yesterday I took a math test and I couldn’t believe it but I knew how to do all the problems. That seems nonsensical because I didn’t like learning how to do them but apparently my brain was paying attention.
School would be so much better if they offered good snacks. I would also appreciate softer toilet paper in the girls’ room.
I’m glad you are still writing your blog. I read your last entry about how you want to learn more about music. Did you know that Chase Bennett’s real name is Ben Chase?! Also, he was famous a long time ago, when he was young, but now he’s old and no one even remembers him. I think that’s really sad because he has so much talent.
Friendlies forever,
Freesia
* * *
FLASH DRIVE
Featuring Donna Flash, leading expert on emerging family-centric technologies.
BUBBLE WORLD SCANDAL UPDATE
In case you were not one of the 562,132 people who logged on to my website or YouTube channel to see my testimony about how Silicon Valley con man Todd Piloski cheated my beloved daughter Francine out of an education and fooled us into giving her untested medications, I encourage you to watch the video posted below this one. As of today, Todd Piloski and Bubble World Enterprises are still taking people’s money for an education he is not delivering. Check back for updates. Or follow me on Twitter!
Next up—A host of grocery list smartphone apps are available, but which one should you choose? In recent weeks, I tested the four most popular, and here’s what I found.…
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Re: hi
Freesia,
I’m so glad you wrote to me. I didn’t know if you would. I never wanted you to see me outside of Agalinas. But then, I never wanted to live outside of Agalinas. I’ll never forget our last face-link (or our first face-link). I hope it doesn’t ruin the memory for you, knowing how I look in the outside world.
I’ve decided to go on an anti-hunger strike. I’m going to keep eating until my father convinces Piloski to let me return or until I explode—whichever comes first. I know my father has been talking to Piloski (my health aide told me), but he won’t tell me about it. Piloski has put new controls on his e-mail, and I haven’t figured out how to hack it yet.
Since I can’t go to a regular school, my father got me a private tutor. His name is Franklin, and you can tell that he thinks I’m disgusting but tries really hard to act like I’m just a normal kid.
Friendlies forever,
Ricky
* * *
AN OPEN LETTER TO THE HATERS, THE DOUBTERS, AND THE ENEMIES OF PROGRESSIVE EDUCATION
I’ve tried to stay quiet. To ignore the absurd claims about Bubble World flooding the Internet. But the haters keep on hating and the liars keep on lying. So I will respond to LIES with TRUTHS.
LIE: I tricked parents into medicating their children.
TRUTH: Like parents could medicate their children without knowing they were doing it?? Many of the children in my program, as in any school, require medications to increase focus or reduce anxiety. So I hired a doctor to monitor these prescriptions with the goal of REDUCING THEIR DOSAGES OR ELIMINATING THEM ENTIRELY.
LIE: The children in Bubble World are not learning anything.
FACT: Does Latin not count as learning? World History? Art Appreciation? Calculus? Economics? Chemistry? Physics? SEVEN languages? I could go on. Instead, I encourage you to visit the Curriculum page. Just because students are HAPPY, that does not mean they are not learning.
LIE: I am just in it for the money.
FACT: If I were just interested in money, I would stick to war games.
LIE: I am giving up control of Bubble World.
FACT: Bubble World is not going anywhere, and neither am I!
Sincerely,
Todd Piloski
Founder, CEO and Chairman of the Board
BUBBLE WORLD EDUCATIONAL ENTERPRISES, INC.
“providing the education of the future … today”
* * *
Ricardo Leisure: When Normal Just Won’t Do
Friday, 9:17 P.M.
DISCOVERING NEW (OLD) MUS
IC
If you’re under forty, chances are you’ve never heard of Ben Chase. I hadn’t until a friend introduced me to his music. At first, his lyrics and melodies seem simplistic. But the more you listen, the more you hear.…
* * *
http://www.bubbleworldeducation.com
You are being redirected to our new site.…
http://www.brightplaneteducation.com
There is a place
Where your child can grow and learn and be happy.
Where she or he can become fluent in multiple languages,
Build friendships and develop social skills to last a lifetime,
Master high math concepts and sophisticated writing conventions,
Devour world history, the sciences, literature, and more,
Explore art, music, dance, theater, and athletics …
All in the comfort and safety of your own home.
That place is called …
Bright Planet.
Thanks for checking out the brand-new website of Bright Planet (formerly known as Bubble World). Our web designers have been busy redesigning this site to keep parents more involved than ever in their child’s virtual reality educational experience.
That’s not all. Bubble World has been a tremendous success since its launch four years ago, with a student and parent satisfaction rate of 96 percent. But here at Bright Planet, we believe in continuous improvement. That’s why we’ve hired a new team of award-winning educators to design an immersion curriculum that is better than ever.
To learn how your child can benefit from Bright Planet’s total immersion virtual education program, visit our Tell Me More page.
* * *
TOP STORIES, WAHOO NEWS
• Roasted kale proven to burn belly fat in mice
• Eighties idol Ben Chase slated to appear on So You Think You Can Dance with a Star
• Cat survives ten days in cruise ship supply room
• Levine Technologies purchases Bubble World Enterprises for an undisclosed sum
33
Ricky was going back. One day they were both stranded in the so-called real world; the next he was making plans to stable a herd of unicorns at his newly expanded estate on the hillside above the Rotunda.
According to Ricky, his father would do anything to get rid of him, even purchase a company with an embarrassing track record and an uncertain future. Even pay programmers overtime to get the new site up and running as fast as possible. Even hire a game developer to design the perfect unicorn.
Richard Levine Sr. did not approve of unicorns (he’d tried to talk Ricky into a giant sea horse instead), but he’d give Ricky pretty much anything he wanted as long as Ricky agreed to cut all ties with the outside world. No blogging. No e-mailing. No communication with anyone besides his father.
For now, Freesia and Ricky e-mailed at least once and sometimes five times a day. It wasn’t half as good as bubbling him or an eighth as good as seeing his virtual self (Freesia was relearning fractions), but it was all she had. And even that wouldn’t last.
For now, Bubble World was still up and running, albeit slowly and with frequent crashes. If everything stayed on schedule, Bright Planet would launch within a week. And then Ricky would be gone for good.
Of course Ricky wanted Freesia to go with him. Of course Freesia wanted to go. But her parents refused. “Just because they’re calling the program something else, that doesn’t mean it’s any better,” Mother said.
“Ricky could talk to his father,” Freesia suggested. “Maybe work out a reduced rate.”
“No,” Father said. “We can’t risk letting you fall even farther behind.”
Freesia was staying at Tumbleweed High. That was that.
* * *
“Freesia? Can you hang out for a sec?”
She was gathering her books after English class and looking forward to a brief lunch period drinking frosty blue things with Iris and the gang.
“I won’t keep you long,” Mr. Janz assured her.
She went to his desk, and he pulled out a paper she had handed in a couple of days before. The assignment: write a persuasive essay on a topic you feel passionate about. Her thesis: for the crime of ugliness, Crocs shoes should be outlawed for all but medical professionals.
He grinned. “I liked your topic. But you still need to work on topic sentences and conclusions. Can you come in early or stay late sometime this week? I’d be happy to give you extra help.”
A knot formed in Freesia’s stomach. “Thank you, Mr. Janz. But I abhor this school so much that the thought of spending an extra second in here makes me squiggy.”
His eyes widened.
“Not because of you,” she said. “Or any of my other teachers. Well, except maybe my Spanish teacher. She’s a bit of a sea sow.”
“Are the other students giving you a hard time?”
She shrugged. “Some of them stare and whisper, but I honestly don’t care what they think. But I can’t stand being in this place. The halls are so crowded, and the desks are uncomfortable, and there’s way too much information to cram into my brain. Plus, the bells make me want to jump out of my skin. And there are no windows! Who would build a school with no windows?”
“It’s to keep out the heat,” Mr. Janz explained. “Also, it reduced construction costs.”
“I know you appreciate beauty, Mr. Janz. I can see it in your fine Italian leather shoes.” She hesitated, not wanting to offend him. “You don’t have to work here. You could get a job in a pretty office with big windows and framed artwork and floral-scented bathrooms.”
Mr. Janz reached under his desk for a brown paper bag and pulled out a can of Mountain Dew. He popped open the soda. “Before I became a teacher, I worked in advertising, and I had an office just like that. Though I can’t remember whether the bathrooms were scented.”
“What happened? Did they fire you?”
He laughed. “No. I got bored. And I wanted to do something more important than convincing people to buy stuff they didn’t need. So I got my teaching credentials and came here.”
Freesia was confused. “So you actually like teaching?”
“Nope—I love it. Do I wish the classes were smaller and I didn’t have to buy my own supplies? Yes. Do I like wasting so much time preparing for standardized tests? No. In a perfect world, teachers would get more respect, better pay, and a real say in how their schools are run. But the world isn’t perfect and never will be. So I just do the best I can for my students.”
Freesia chewed her lip. “My father says students are too busy texting and MySpacing to care about education.”
“Nobody goes on MySpace anymore. As for texting…” He shrugged. “Students used to pass notes, now they text and tweet and Facebook. Their parents are just as bad. Maybe worse. We’ve all got too many distractions now. The world has changed. But kids are still kids. And most of them are more interesting than most adults I’ve met. I’m never bored, that’s for sure.”
“But this place is so ugly!” Freesia looked around the classroom. Mr. Janz had made it as nice as he could by hanging student artwork, but it wasn’t enough to offset the acoustic tiles on the ceiling, the hard, scuffed, oatmeal-colored floor, the fluorescent lighting, or the cinder-block walls painted a sickly shade of yellow.
Mr. Janz pulled a sandwich out of his paper bag. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Freesia, but there are things in life more important than beauty.”
She squinted at him, not understanding.
“Though I’m with you on the Crocs,” he said.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: I never know what to write in this line
Dear Ricky,
I don’t have anything new to tell you, but I wanted to write because it annoys Angel when I use her computer. And also because it makes me feel closer to you.
Thanks for checking on all our friends. I’m glad Taser is acting more normal (at l
east for Taser) but sorry that Jelissa is still sad. Last night I found myself wishing that Jelissa would leave Agalinas so I could see her in the real world, but then I realized that was a bad thing to wish on a friend. It’s like the way I’m sad you’re going back but happy for you too.
Friendlies forever,
Freesia
“It’s been six minutes!” Angel, sitting on her bed, smacked her pillow.
Freesia hit the Send button and got up from Angel’s desk. “I’m done. Calm yourself.”
Angel retrieved the laptop and took it to her bed. “Were you writing to the whale again?”
“Don’t call him that.”
Sitting cross-legged, Angel pecked at her computer keyboard. “It’s just so weird when you think about what a Garibaldi he was in Agalinas.” Angel’s phone buzzed. She checked the display and tapped the screen a few times.
Freesia stared at her sister. “Did you just call Ricky a Garibaldi?”
Panic flickered in Angel’s eyes. “Everyone in Bubble World was good looking. It said so in all the Web reports.”
“But why did you use that word? I’ve never heard anyone outside of Agalinas say it.”
Angel’s phone buzzed again. She moved her hand but didn’t pick it up. “A Garibaldi is an orange fish. Look it up. Now, can you please let me—”
“You were there,” Freesia said. “You’ve been to Agalinas.”
Angel took a long time to answer. She picked up her phone. Put it back down without texting.
Finally she said, “I had my own Bubble World avatar. Like Mom and Dad, except I logged on to mine way more than they did. I would see this little girl on the screen, and I could make her move and talk. It was just something to do when I was bored. One time you took me to the beach and Ricky was there, lying on the sand.”
Freesia crossed to Angel’s dresser and stared at the photo on her bulletin board: Freesia and Angel as little girls. Sisters. Then and always.
“So when I talked to Angel in Agalinas, it was you all along,” Freesia marveled.
“No, it was not me all along.” Angel sounded angry. “Unless you took me somewhere or invited me up to your room, all I could do was hang out in the living room and dance and play with dolls and stuff. When you first went away, I’d log on every day so I could talk to you. And sometimes we’d do stuff together. Like go to the café or the dress shop or the beach. But it was just because you didn’t have any friends yet and didn’t want to be alone. Once you turned into Miss Popularity, you forgot all about me. Finally I stopped visiting.”