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OPERATOR: [pauses to think, sounds sad] No, jack. Not quite. The kids who were installed at birth, well, they're growing up now, and they want to know what life is like without it. Without a guard rail, you feel me? They never had no say in it, brother. That's making them act out, you dig?
CALLER 5: [hesitates] My baby daughter was born one week after Act passed. She has had the software in her since she was one hour.
OPERATOR: [matter-of-fact, stoic] You gotta talk to her about it when she gets old enough to understand, brother. Till then, let it ride. [softer] Ain't nothing you can do till then, sailor.
CALLER 5: [pause, silence, then in grave voice] Thank you for your wisdom, sir. I am grateful. Farewell.
OPERATOR: [to his listeners] You can't rush it, babies. That's what Pirate says. Who loves me? Who needs me right now? [digi-ring]
CALLER 7: [elderly woman, pinched voice, high-pitched] Is this the Pirate?
OPERATOR: Yes, ma'am, and how we can help your heart tonight?
CALLER 7: [spitting] I don't need your god-damned filthy hands on my heart, mister.
OPERATOR: Well, don't hold back, mother.
CALLER 7: I'm calling about these vandals, heh? These self-entitled . . . do they know what it was like before Hartware? Before Pheromone Compatibility Programs, heh? Before Dream Tracker? [screeching now] Heh? Before Hart Fraud Alert? [whispering, spitting] We were in the wilderness. We didn't even know for chrissakes what we thought, what we wanted. We were dizzy. We were lost. These kids, they have no idea what real heartbreak is. It's no tea party.
OPERATOR: I hear you, ma —
CALLER 7: They think it's the real thing, "the pure thing" they say. [bitter laugh] Yeah, well my grandmother was a girl in the Depression. She didn't glamorize collecting jelly jars to me, ya hear? She didn't make like begging pennies was dandy fun. That's what I'm saying. I'm grateful for my Hartware. These kids get it free, now, from the government, and they complain? Hell, I worked my hands to the bone to afford my first Hartware. These teenagers now, they make me sick. And you're a shady one. You give 'em this i-dear it's okay to go backwards.
OPERATOR: Whoa!? [trying to sound amused] Grandma, you sound like you accusin' me here.
CALLER 7: Calling it like I see it, fella. [click]
OPERATOR: [sad laughter] Oh lawdy. [slow, low voice] Caged-up hearts. Caged up. [pensive now] My Prod is coasting near the Fire, on the Capital side now, and I'm looking down at a Replant Quince-Banana Orchard. Them trees seem to be growing finally. We gonna be okay, boys and girlies. [pause] Let's take one more call, lovers, and then we'll put on some sad, sweet song or something, clear our pretty heads. [digi-ring] What have we got on the line for Daddy?
CALLER 8: [very small, young voice. clear as a bell, but far away] Hello? [swirling, rushing noise]
OPERATOR: I can barely hear you, little sister. [waits] You there? Maybe we should —
CALLER 8: This is Trinket809 . . . I . . . [hushing, incomplete sounds] . . . did . . . interface.
OPERATOR: [raw, urgent] Trinket809, what'd you do? Did you dismantle it? [soothing but desperate] Trinket, is you there?
CALLER 8: [tiny voice getting tinier] I took myself apart, Daddy.
OPERATOR: [emotional] Trinket, Trinket, where are you?
CALLER 8: I'm here.
OPERATOR: Where's here, baby girl? [waiting] Do you need help?
CALLER 8: [a loud ratcheting, and then shushing]
OPERATOR: [quietly] Trinket, Christ, are you okay?
CALLER 8: I'm alive. [louder whoosh, clicks, then the click of the phone]
OPERATOR: [speechless for a moment] I, uh. [voice strange] I'm going to throw a digi-record on the Fonograph here. I'm going to, uh, yeah. I'm going to play this old Chet Baker. Let's Get Lost. It's going to sound scratchy, babies. [sniffs, pauses] But you can hear it pretty true. This one goes out to Trinket809. This is for you, little sister.
[music] n°
| ABOUT THE AUTHOR: |
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Jardine Libaire holds an MFA from the University of Michigan. Her stories have been published on Hooksexup and in Fiction and Chick Lit , an anthology. She lives in Brooklyn. Here Kitty Kitty is her first novel. |
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©2006 Jardine Libaire and hooksexup.com
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