Wired

by Caytlyn Brooke

  “Andy,” I whisper. “I should go wish him a Merry Christmas. But first…” My words trail off as I see the bright green glow of an ATM calling my name from across the street. I have priorities after all.

  • • • • •

  “Andy? Andy, open up, it’s Maggie!” I call, rapping on the door with enthusiasm.

  From somewhere inside I can make out the sound of socked feet sliding across the floor. I wait a moment. The door remains closed. “Andy, come on, let me in!” I yell.

  The door opens a sliver and Andy’s voice snakes into the cold air. “Go away, Maggie. I’m sick, please leave,” he whispers.

  I place my hand on the door and push. Against my muscular big brother, I know it won’t do any good, but I try anyway. “Andy, come on, just let me in for a few minutes,” I plead.

  Sensing his hesitation, I push a little harder and feel it give way with much less resistance than I anticipated. I step into the dark apartment and an old rotten smell overwhelms me.

  “Jesus, Andy, what the hell is that?” I gasp in disgust. I fumble in the dark to cover my nose with my jacket collar. “Christ, it reeks in here!”

  I stretch out my hands to find the light switch on the wall. I flick it on and my eyes go wide with horror and repulsion as I take in the state of the living room. “Andy…what the hell happened?”

  All around me, garbage and spoiled food litter the floor and furniture as if dropped by a tornado. My eyes travel to Andy himself. I haven’t seen him in a month, but the man staring back at me is not, could not be my brother. The man before me is tall and very, very thin. The shirt he wears hangs off him like loose skin and he is holding up his too-large jeans, since the belt he is wearing can’t seem to be notched any smaller.

  Afraid to look at his face, I force my eyes upward and my breath catches in my throat. Gone is my handsome, sweet brother. Instead, a skeleton gapes back at me, the dark circles underneath his eyes looming like giant black holes. His skin is sallow and yellow, unhealthy, as if he has sat in the dark for several weeks.

  I take a step back and put my hand to my mouth, speechless. “Andy…” I whisper. “What happened to you?”

  Andy shrugs and looks away. The bones of his shoulders are prominent beneath his shirt. “Nothing,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”

  I’m silent for several minutes, taking in the drastic changes. “Have you stopped eating?” I finally ask, trying to wrap my head around his new appearance. He shrugs and starts to play with an invisible thread on his shirt. “Why didn’t Sarah tell me?” I ask aloud. “She knew you needed help! Why didn’t she tell me?!” I may be fighting with my roommate, but that’s no excuse. My brother’s life looks to be in danger.

  As if just coming into the conversation for the first time, Andy steps toward me and grabs my gesturing hands and holds them down. His once firm, powerful grip has weakened to barely a touch and I can feel the sharp bones underneath the thin flesh before he lets go.

  “Don’t blame, Sarah, okay, Mags?” he begs.

  “Don’t defend her, Andy. This is serious!” I cry. My head is beginning to pound as I feel a wave of panic. What do I do? What’s happening to him?

  “She would have told you, but I didn’t tell her,” he whispers. His dark blue eyes are having a hard time focusing on mine.

  “Christ, Andy, you shouldn’t have had to tell her. Anyone with one eye can see that you’re sick,” I retort, not trying to keep the venom out of my words.

  “But she hasn’t seen me, Mags. That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he says, his voice growing weaker. “We broke up a while ago.”

  “Broke up?” I repeat. “What do you mean? You were just over at my apartment. Remember? You were in trouble for missing your stupid three-month anniversary or something.”

  “Yeah, that was weeks ago, Mags.” Andy sighs. His breath rattles in his chest. One good cough and he could snap in two.

  “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve…had a lot going on, I guess,” I say. I take his arm and lead him to the couch. Clearing away old pizza crusts and hardened socks, I make room for us to sit and wait for him to stop coughing. Once he’s ready, I straighten my spine and interlace our fingers, swallowing the rising bile climbing my throat. God, it reeks in here. Launch Submerge, I need to get away from this stench.

  Of course. How’s Frosted Pine? the Vertix asks as an image of a towering tree flickers into view.

  Yeah, whatever, just do it quick before I throw up. The rotten, foul smell dissipates to be replaced by the heady scent of a warm pine tree. I inhale deeply.

  “Andy,” I whisper, squeezing his cold hand. “Tell me what happened.”

  There is silence as he runs his fingers though his hair. “You already know, Mags,” he admits. “I’m not strong enough. When we first tried these things out,” he says, pointing to his bright red Vertix, clutching the back of his neck, “I thought they were cool. Powerful, but cool. It was fun to play games and explore faraway places right from my couch, but I don’t know what happened. I loved connecting, loved getting lost in all the media and new advances. Sarah kept complaining that I did it too much, that we never talked. Then, one day I disconnected for longer than usual and the hallucinations started, the nausea. I wasn’t strong enough so she left me, said I cared more for the Vertix than her.”

  I shake my head. “But why didn’t Sarah do something? Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “She told me she did. She said you never seemed to listen,” Andy whispers, looking down at his grimy hands.

  My cheeks burn. Is that true? Did she really try to tell me my brother was becoming a skeleton? I clear my throat, unsure how to respond. “But…but I saw you a month ago. You didn’t look like this,” I say at last.

  Andy scoffs. “I didn’t look half-dead you mean? Guess that’s what happens when you only eat once every few days. I don’t get hungry anymore. The food inside the Vertix is filling enough…mentally. I must still have some survival instincts though, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you,” he adds.

  I flinch at his words because I know what he’s saying is true, I’ve experienced it myself. Until now, I had no idea how much the Vertix had consumed Andy’s life. If I hadn’t come today, it might have been too late.

  I squeeze his hand again, but not too hard for fear of snapping the brittle bones. “Still, this just seems…way too fast. Andy, you’re emaciated. How is that possible?” I had always imagined it took months of starvation for your body to eat away at itself—and Andy was packed with muscle before.

  “Just look in the mirror, Mags. We look exactly the same,” Andy says with sadness. “Guess I’m not the only one who enjoys virtual reality.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t look like you,” I protest.

  “Are you sure? Have you checked yourself out lately? And look at your clothes. I remember when you wore those in middle school, Mags. Nothing else fits though does it? It’s all too big, too baggy,” Andy says, gesturing to the red top and gray sweats beneath my open coat.

  I drop his hand and march into the bathroom. For a moment, my pine-scented fantasy wavers as the odor in here punches me in the face, but the Vertix is quick to correct that. Stepping over crusty underwear and empty toilet paper rolls, I shrug out of my coat and throw it into the living room, flicking on the light at the same time.

  I gasp at my reflection. Andy is right. I look like the undead. My hair is stringy and matted to the side of my head. My skin is gray and sunken around my eyes and cheeks, revealing the bones beneath. The shallow cut I gave myself at Paul’s is crusted with dark red blood. My gaze continues downward to my bony arms and petite frame. I’ve always been on the thinner side but this is scary. I don’t have an ounce of body fat and when I pull up my shirt, my hip bones protrude in a sickening way.

  I close my eyes. “Please tell me I’m dreaming, please. This isn’t me. This isn’t my body,” I whisper, but when I peek back in the mirror, the same skeletal creature
stares at me with a look of horror. “I don’t understand. How did this happen? How did I shrink to this size and not even notice, not even see!”

  “I don’t know,” Andy calls. I shut off the bathroom light and return to the living room, running my hands down the length of my body, feeling my bones. “I read an article a few days ago that the Vertix seriously messes with your brain, with your perception. I know for me, as long as I’m connected, I’m the happiest guy in the world. Nothing can touch me.”

  I nod. “I know,” I agree. “But what about your job? Don’t the people you work with say anything?”

  Andy runs his hands over his knobby knees, his expression solemn. “I was fired at the beginning of November. I don’t even know if I’ve left my apartment since then.”

  “Well that would explain the smell,” I say, resuming my seat beside him. “How do you pay the rent? Pay for food? When you do eat, that is…”

  Andy sighs. “Well, technically I was kicked out of here two weeks ago. I hid out in the closet while the landlord came in to do a walk through and the place reeked so bad he left. I haven’t seen him since. I think he’s planning on bringing a hazmat team up here in a few days though—at least that’s what the sign says that he posted on the door.”

  “On the front door? Really?” I ask, having no memory of a bright yellow biohazard warning sign.

  “Yeah, sometime before the New Year I think.” Andy chuckles without humor. “Guess I’ll be living on the streets soon. And my Vertix just told me yesterday that I need to put more funds in my account. It’s going to power off today at four if I don’t. You don’t happen to have any spare cash do ya?” His cloudy blue eyes are hopeful.

  I shake my head as a huge egg of guilt forms in the middle of my throat. If you had just listened to Paul, you could have given Andy some of your money.

  But then we’d have less time together, another voice whispers.

  I pinch the skin between my eyes while goose bumps prickle my arms. What is going on?

  Andy is still looking at me. “No, sorry,” I reply, the lump in my throat growing even larger. “But I’ll be getting my bonus any day now. I can give you some then.”

  “Great.” Andy sighs, sinking back into the cushions.

  A content silence settles over us. “Merry Christmas by the way,” I say after several long minutes.

  “Hey, Merry Christmas. When is that anyway?” Andy asks, still pressed into the cushions.

  “Today…that’s why I came over,” I say with a weak laugh. “I got you something but then…I had to return it.”

  “I know how that goes. Sorry I didn’t even try to get you anything. Man this year has just flown by. I don’t even remember half of it,” he admits with an insincere laugh.

  “I know,” I say, staring at the blank walls ahead. “A lot has happened though.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Andy sighs and I know he’s not listening. He’s far away, probably soaking up some rays on a faraway island.

  I pat the stained cushion next to my thigh, think for a moment, and then stand. “All right, well, let’s get going. Weather Cat told me it is supposed to snow today,” I announce.

  “Go? What do you mean?” Andy asks, confused.

  “You said you were getting kicked out…well already are kicked out. I’m not going to let you sleep on the street. You can stay with me,” I say, as if it’s the most obvious solution.

  Andy hesitates for a second. “What about Sarah? I don’t think she’ll like me living there.”

  I wave my hand in front of my face. “I don’t really care what Sarah likes or doesn’t like. I can’t even remember the last time she talked to me. Besides, I think she’s planning to move out, so really it’s my apartment.” I think…have I still been paying rent? I shake my head, whipping my hair back. Whatever, I’ll think about that later. “Come on, get your stuff,” I say, nudging Andy’s foot with my leg.

  “Why can’t I just stay here?” he groans, his eyelids fluttering.

  “Because I said so,” I say, playing the bossy little sister card. “Now get up and start packing.” I survey the living room and disgusting bathroom. “Is there anything you even want?”

  “Sure, lots of stuff,” Andy says, rising to his feet at last. “Give me a second to round it all up.”

  For a few minutes we work in silence, with me sifting through the piles of junk in the living room as Andy packs his belongings. After finding nothing but molding garbage, I give up. No amount of fresh pine can chase away the smell of maggots devouring an old cheeseburger. As the throw pillow falls back into place over the maggots, a question pops into my mind.

  “Andy, were you robbed?” I call out.

  “No, why?” he answers.

  “Well, all of your stuff is gone,” I reply, noticing for the first time that his TV stand is bare and the expensive stereo he used to have in the corner is missing.

  “Yeah, I pawned it all. I had to start getting creative when I lost my job. Now I don’t have anything. You know that brokers reject toasters? They have like twelve in there but thirteen is apparently the limit,” Andy jokes, appearing in the living room. He shoves an old picture of him and Sarah from before into a yellow sweat-stained pillowcase. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad at all?”

  “Um, no. Well, maybe. I don’t remember,” I say with a frown, side stepping a leaning tower of empty pizza boxes. “You?”

  Andy shrugs. “Mom keeps calling me, leaves me these five-minute-long messages, but I haven’t called her back yet. Suppose I should since it’s Christmas and all.”

  “Yeah,” I say, not knowing what else to add. Has she tried calling me? Guilt forms a heavy lump in my throat as I realize I haven’t thought about my parents in weeks. “Let’s get back to my place first though. I want to take a nice hot shower. I need it after being in here,” I tease, but a real shiver tickles my spine as a roach the size of a dollar bill scurries across the floor.

  “Hot shower, yeah right,” Andy scoffs, throwing a few more random objects into his pillowcase. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of those. The water takes so long to heat up.”

  “Tell me about it.” I groan. “But I just got one of the new waterproof chargers so I can swim in the Atlantic with it if I want and I can still keep my connection.” I turn and lift my hair to display it.

  “Seriously? No way! I can’t believe you got one! How’d you afford it?” Andy gasps, dropping his pillowcase. There is a sound of shattering glass as the case hits the floor.

  “It was the last of my savings,” I admit.

  “Can I try it out? Please? I’d love to have a hot shower again,” Andy asks, his fingers already reaching for my neck.

  I let my hair fall like a curtain, hiding the charger and my copper baby from view. “Sure, I’ll shower first and then you can, okay?”

  “Okay,” Andy says, nodding with renewed energy. He bends down and scoops up the pillowcase. “I’m set. Let’s get out of here.”

  Living with Andy is easy, almost like I’m living alone. Even though neither of us leaves the apartment, we never get in each other’s way. I celebrated New Year’s Eve through a frame in Wall Art so I imagine it's 2032 now.

  I stumble around the kitchen and wait for the tea to brew, anxious for my morning cup. Launch Rox, I think, sitting down and resting my head in the crook of my arm.

  What would you like to view? the Vertix asks, enshrouding me in a sparkling blanket of midnight stars.

  I was up most of the night with a guy I met in Hot Love. I haven’t given up on Marco, but he never seems to be on. Austin was kind of overweight and had a dirty beard, but he’d been good enough for one night. I’ll watch whatever. A poppy beat begins and the singer leaps off a building, singing even as her body hurtles to the street below. I feel a twinge of jealousy. Some celebrities really don’t seem to age. I pull the wrinkles on my face back, bringing my skin tight against my skull. I’ve lost so much weight I probably look a few decades older at this point. I let g
o and my flesh sags back into place.

  A loud crash explodes behind me. “What the hell?” I shout, spinning around to find Andy’s back facing me.

  The person raiding my empty fridge looks so frail. His back is hunched and crooked, the bones unable to hold him upright from lack of calcium. I scour the floor for the source of the crash and spy a shattered green jug that used to hold lemonade. My nose wrinkles in disgust as the sour liquid contained in the jug spreads across the tile, soaking into the bottom of my socks. Andy doesn’t seem to notice and I wince as he steps on the sharp handle with his bare foot.

  “Andy, Andy!” I shout.

  Andy searches the kitchen for the speaker. At last his eyes find me. “Oh hey, Mags. I didn’t see you there,” he says.

  “Yeah, I know. Are you going to clean that up?” I say, pointing to the sticky mess coating the majority of the floor.

  “Clean what?” Andy asks, his voice faraway.

  “That. All that juice you just spilled,” I repeat.

  Andy looks down and lifts one foot. A thin trail of watery blood falls from it before disappearing into the sludgy lemonade below. “Oh, yeah I’ll get to it. I’m in the middle of something now though.”

  I open my mouth to protest but the front door blows open before I can utter a syllable. Sarah stands in the doorway, looking like a fierce angel in her cream-colored pea coat and shining black boots. Always a supermodel. She stalks into the kitchen and wrinkles her nose. “Andy? What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Sar bear,” Andy greets, actually turning to look at her. “How’ve you been? You look great.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Sarah says, narrowing her slate gray eyes. “I just came back to gather the rest of my stuff.” With caution she maneuvers around the bright yellow liquid pooling in the cracks between the filthy tiles and beelines to her room.

  I know I shouldn’t. I should just let sleeping dogs lie, but I can’t help it. I push back in my chair and follow Sarah into the hallway, leaving soggy footprints behind me. Another music video cues up as I lean against the door frame. I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring Lily V’s shrill yell. My eyes narrow as I watch Sarah pack up the top of her dresser, throwing the knick-knacks and perfume bottles into one of the numerous boxes littering her bed.