LYNN HENDERSON
I could see the man foaming at the mouth. The paramedics probably thought they covered it up for the camera, but I could see it. The foam was white and liquid, falling down his chin as he convulsed on the gurney. Its small metal frame shook under his pressure. Maybe he wasn’t convulsing. Maybe he was fighting back. I pushed the thought from my mind. There’s nothing to fight with.
He was mentally deranged, that’s what they were saying.
I watched as the news guy tried to get a clear shot of the attacker, but he was pushed back by one of the three paramedics.
The news program cut away just as the situation got worse, the voices of the newscasters droning on about something different. The rest of the class stayed focused on the news, which was something we watched every morning, but I started to doodle, thinking about the man on the gurney. Ms. McGuffey thought it was important that we knew what was going on in our tiny town, but the fact was that our town was so small, that we pretty much already knew everything. Still, it was a break from our normal lecturing, so we didn’t try telling her we already knew.
“What’s so funny?” I heard Ethan ask. I turned around to see Gilly stifling a laugh, her hand clamped down over her mouth. For a split second, I wondered, if she removed her hand, would there be foam there? Could she be becoming like him?
“Ethan, if you can’t be quiet, you can go sit out in the hallway,” Ms. McGuffey said loudly. Ethan sighed and set his head down on the table, trying his best to ignore Gilly. Neither of them seemed to think much of the man on the gurney. “As you all are well aware, only after the news clip is over are you allowed to discuss among yourselves the topic of such news.”
“Sorry, Ms. McGuffey,” Ethan said, not picking his head up. I looked over to Gilly. Her hand was down, but her smile was shining.
“I said quiet, Mr. Roberts.” Everyone returned their focus to the screen and I followed suit, not wanting another detention. Mom was already mad enough about the last one.
We sat in silence for the remainder of the class. Nobody talked about the news. Nobody talked about anything. We just sat there and watched each other, listening to Ms. McGuffey’s lecture on the importance of the electoral college. I didn’t understand why we had to learn this. I would never be part of the college, so all of this useless information would just sit in my empty skull, rattling around. Eventually, it would fade away, but I didn’t know why we needed it in the first place.
The bell rang and I stood up. I slung my backpack on, almost motioning for Gilly and Ethan to meet me in the hallway. I needed to talk to them, but maybe the hallway wasn’t the best place. We only had five minutes to get to our next class, so we didn’t have enough time.
By the time lunch rolled around, I decided to go out to the courtyard, where it was nice and quiet. The perfect place for such a conversation. The thought of the man on the gurney refused to leave my mind. I texted my friends to meet me.
When Lynn and Ethan finally joined me in the courtyard, they seemed eager to talk about the news, just like I was.
“What do you think caused him to foam at the mouth like that? That’s like the stuff in movies,” Ethan asked. Gilly shrugged.
“It seemed like he was fighting something, but that makes you wonder what would’ve been there to fight. He looked scared,” I said, stating my observations. Again, Gilly shrugged. It hadn’t even been a minute since she’d sat down, but she was already down with half of her foot-long sub sandwich.
“It makes you wonder why they were saying he was mentally deranged,” Ethan said. “If the paramedics were trying to cover up the foam and the man’s convulsions, then who’s to say they weren’t trying to hide something else?”
I nodded in agreement, processing what he was saying. Gilly seemed to be watching the whole exchange skeptically, unsure of what Ethan was getting at. She took another bite. Then her eyes went wide with realization.
“Wait, you’re trying to tell me that the paramedics may be hiding something because they were trying to hide the gory parts of someone’s condition on TV? Ethan, that’s called saving the eyes of the audience. It’s not something worth analyzing. Or overthinking, Lynn,” Gilly said. “I mean, that’s why bodies aren’t shown when murders are reported.”
I nodded my head, not knowing what to think. Gilly had a point. Maybe the man was just mentally deranged like they had said and was experiencing a unique manic episode. But what Ethan said made sense as well. Adults in this town have made the habit of withholding information from us kids. It happened quite a bit.
And Gilly’s mention of murder made me realize how our town’s murder rate had spiked in the past couple of months.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. I looked over to Ethan, knowing we didn’t have a whole lot of time left. “We should talk later,” he said.
“The cafe after school?” Gilly suggested. I shrugged. The cafe wasn’t my favorite place to talk because it wasn’t that private, but I guess it would work. I nodded. The second bell rang: our final warning. Gilly was the first to leave, walking towards the door just as Ethan broke away.
The courtyard had many doors. Gilly and Ethan had to go through the same one, but I had to go through a different one, located on the complete other side of the small courtyard. A bee buzzed in my face.
“See you after school!” I shouted over my shoulder as I entered the school again. My lunchbox felt heavier than normal.
“Bye, Lynn!” Ethan and Gilly shouted in unison.
ETHAN ROBERTS
GILLY: Don’t you think the adults should handle this? We’re just kids. We don’t have the skill sets to figure this out.
ETHAN: Note, that Lynn shook her head and is currently frowning.
LYNN (irritated): Just stop it with the notes, Ethan. I’m fine with you recording this, but just record us talking. No visual descriptions:
ETHAN (defensive): Touchy subject. Alright.
GILLY: Guys, focus.
LYNN: Oh, come on, Gilly. Do you think this is at the top of their priority list? How much do you think they care about the man on the gurney? They just want to put a label on him, shove him in a box, and call it a day. We can help.
GILLY: But why would you want to interfere with something? It’s so much bigger than us, and I don’t think we should be trying to figure it out!
ETHAN: But think about it this way: if we don’t help, nobody’s going to. In Current Events, isn’t that what Mrs. McGuffey always tells us? We have to do some things by ourselves, and because nobody’s going to help, I feel like we should.
LYNN: I agree. We know the adults won’t help, and we have evidence from past experiences to back it up. Why should we sit back and watch more people get hurt?
GILLY: Fine… I guess I’ll help you. I’m not happy about it, though.
ETHAN: I know you can’t see this, little audio recorder, but I’m jumping up and down.
LYNN (frustrated): Stop talking to your recorder! Please!
GILLY (sighing, quieter): I can’t believe I just agreed to that.
ETHAN (pulls out a notebook): Fine.
AUDIO FILE TERMINATED
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LYNN HENDERSON
Nothing around me feels right anymore. Everything’s happening so fast, that I’m not quite sure what to think. We got Gilly to agree with helping us with the virus thing, but now we need a plan on how to deal with the virus. It’s affecting the mental stability of those that are infected. It makes them lash out, it seems, in rage.
And despite what I know, it doesn’t matter. Ethan’s the smart one. I can’t make a vaccine. Ethan, at the moment, can’t make a cure, either, because I would have to have further knowledge of the virus. For right now, it seems like we’ll just have to gather more information until we have an idea of what we’re dealing with. Maybe our Current Events teacher will show us more about the news about the virus. There’s bound to be another infected person soon because viruses tend to spread quickly.
In Biology, Gilly and I sit together. She keeps giving me angry glances, and I can tell she’s not happy about helping us figure out the whole situation. But if she had her way, the government officials would be working on the case, and they’d toss the problem aside and say it was radiation poisoning or a new mental disorder. They’d pay for us to be lab rats since it seems contained to our town. I just want her to see that the government is going to try and cover it up. I mean, they already have tried to cover it up. The foaming mouth and convulsing man were never meant to be on camera, and people were blocking the camera’s view.
“Do you understand anything the teacher’s saying? I don’t understand anything she’s saying about genetics.” Gilly sitting next to me, and us being friends allows us the ability to speak to each other when one of us needs help with our school work. Mrs. Pine knew we weren’t the type of kids to snicker and joke in the middle of class.
“Yeah, so when she’s talking about genotypes and phenotypes…” I continue talking about Punnett squares, making it more mathematical than intended so that Gilly could better understand. She’s good at math but struggles with other subjects.
When the teacher finally berates us for talking so much, we just shrug and smile at her. She lets it go. But then I have a thought and ask her a question.
“Mrs. Pine, is it possible for the genetics in a person to be altered to make them act… strange? In a mental sense, not a physical one.” Gilly steals a glance at me, letting me know she knows what I’m hinting at.
“I assume there’s a chance of it, but there’s no evidence of it happening. Any reason why you’re asking?”
“Gilly and I are interested in the genetics unit, and we were researching possible side effects of a genetic mutation implanted into a person. Our research varies from the age range the side effects could be moderate to severe, and we’ve noticed that if there were a mutation that could cause such a thing, it would be very harmful to the person.”
“I’m glad to hear that you’re so interested in the unit. I think the mental health of someone that had their genetic structure modified would be unstable because of the trauma the body had suffered. Changing your genes so suddenly could be extremely painful.” I nodded and jotted down that information, filing the information away to tell Ethan later. He’d probably make more sense of it than I could, though I do enjoy learning about the genetic makeup of humans.
Later in the day, we meet in the courtyard for lunch. Gilly hasn’t said much since Biology, and I can tell she’s mad at me. I shouldn’t have pried, but I had to know if my idea had any leads. Ethan isn’t the only one that can find out information.
“So, what did you find, Lynn? Gilly tells me that you asked a few questions in biology?” He doesn’t sound upset like Gilly is. He simply wants to know what information was found. And he’s recording whatever response I give.
“Well, I asked about the genetic makeup of a person, because that’s what we’re learning about. All I asked about is what would happen if someone attempted to modify someone else’s genes, and there weren’t the best side effects. We talked about potential side effects, and Mrs. Pine said there is a good chance the mind would be unstable, considering the body’s foundation had just suffered some intense trauma, leaving the rest of the body shaken. I think that might have happened to the man on the news. Maybe he just had some really bad side effects, and lead him to be more combative to protect his body.”
“I suppose it could be possible. I mean, it depends on how severe the modifications are. If it’s a minor adjustment, then I don’t think that could happen. Maybe if it were a major modification, or if something went wrong, it could damage the brain in such a severe way.”
Gilly nodded as she followed, but I could tell she was confused. She was better at math, but this science talk? It was never her strength.
“What’re you all talking about? How can someone’s genetic makeup change when you’ve already come out of the gene pool? Your traits are already chosen, so how can they change or be altered?”
I motioned for Ethan to explain, and he wrote a few things down before looking up to speak.
“If there’s a disease in your family that’s hereditary, then you have a chance of getting the disease. You could modify your DNA to ensure that you don’t get that disease or to minimize your chance of doing it with today’s technology. If something went wrong, it might increase your chances of getting the disease, or it might create a new one, If Lynn’s guess is right, then it’s likely that a new sickness got created. I’d need samples from an infected person to identify what type of sickness, so for now we’ll just watch for the infection rate, and how many more people are on the news.”
I nod, and I see Gilly working the information in her mind. She writes some things down, stares off into space, and then finally opens her mouth to speak.
“So what you’re saying is that if Lynn’s right, then it’s likely the government is trying to mess with our genetic makeup, but something went wrong.” Not a question, a statement. Her voice is laced with confusion and disdain. She can’t stand the idea that’d I’d be right, but also that the idea of someone messing with someone else’s DNA is absurd, and she doesn’t get why they’d do it.
“Basically, yeah. So let’s hope Lynn isn’t right, yeah?” He smiles at Gilly, but she doesn’t smile back. I just sit here, hoping they’re done messing around because there’s some pretty intense stuff happening here.
The lunch bell rings, and we head back inside. We split up to go to our respective classes. I hope this…this thing that made that man’s mouth foam and his body convulse isn’t a disease. I hope this is something I’m wrong about, and it’s normally me wishing I could be right.
GILLY SOUTHWORTH
When the time to walk home came, Gilly didn’t wait for her friends like she normally did. She was mad at Lynn for trying to be like Ethan. Lynn was always trying to steal the spotlight. Ethan was the brain of their friendship, and Lynn was the instigator. She always seemed to cause tension in the friendship, and when she wasn’t, she and Ethan were hanging out, bouncing ideas off each other. That meant Gilly was the odd one out. She did whatever needed to be done, but she was also very skeptical. All the DNA nonsense? It was confusing the heck out of her.
It was cold outside, the wind blowing against her. Gilly dreaded going home. She didn’t know why, but something told her to slow down, to not go home quickly, but slowly. Take your time, her mind reasoned, It’s not like anything important is waiting for you there.
So she dragged her feet. Inside, Gilly raged against Lynn. She thought about Ethan. She hoped they were both wrong. For the world’s sake, she hoped they were wrong. That it was all a misunderstanding, a new mental disorder. Like the news said.
When she got home, she heard shouts and the sound of breaking glass. She walked into her room, near the front end of the house, and set her backpack down. Tentatively, she walked into the kitchen, farther into the house, and…
Oh, no.
Her uncle was fighting her dad. And her dad wasn’t fighting back.
“Uncle Harry! Stop! You’re hurting him!” A surge of adrenaline rushed through Gilly as she pulled her uncle off her dad. With the rage in her uncle’s face, the foam in his mouth, it seemed like he was acting just like the man on the news. Her dad needed help, and her uncle seemed bent on beating him to death. She did the one thing she knew how to do.
She called 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?” She scooted backward as her uncle pulled away and launched another fist at her father’s face.
“Hi. Uh, my name is Gillium Southworth, and my uncle is beating up my dad.” Her voice is ragged. Pant-like. She fights to get the words out. “Uncle Harry doesn’t normally do this. It’s very out of character for him, see. And my dad needs help.” Just as she finished talking, Uncle Harry came rushing at Gilly. She let out a scream and the phone flew out of her hand. She shot a leg out and her uncle was pushed backward. He snarled at her.
“Miss? Gillium, are you alright? What’s happening? Don’t hang up, we’re sending someone over immediately.”
Gilly sat up and reached for her phone, but her uncle rammed into her like a bull playing with its food. Again the phone dropped. This happened several times, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Her dad was across the room laying on the floor, groaning. He was in no condition to help her. But she had to get away from her uncle, who was potentially infected with whatever sickness was inside him. She couldn’t risk getting sick, not with her weak immune system. It wouldn’t end well.
It seemed like hours passed, but it had only been minutes. Maybe even seconds. She scrambled away from her uncle, trying to protect herself from the violence he’s unleashed. Gilly backed up into the pantry and closed the door. Her uncle lashed out, clawing at the door, but it didn’t budge. She cowered, whimpering, waiting for the police to come.
It felt like hours later when she heard the police sirens. Gilly cracked open the door and peeked out. She saw her uncle sitting in the corner with his head in his hands. His face was beet red, and he looked like he’d pounce at any minute.
When the police got into the house, Gilly could barely move. It took all of her energy to stay awake. Her dad was in worse shape than she was, and if her uncle lashed out with the police around, she’d protect him first. Her dad would've died if her uncle hit him just one more time.
“Gilly?” A voice was speaking to her, but she didn’t recognize it. She could barely register what was happening.
“Gilly? Gilly, dear, please stay awake. Don’t close your eyes.” I’m trying, Gilly, thought. Everything was fuzzy, going in and out of focus. All Gilly wanted was to take a nice, long, nap.
She was just so tired.
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