I saw him on a walk after Learning. I don\u2019t usually interact with long people, but when I saw him brush his shining black hair from his eyes, I was transfixed. I waited around the pool until he came off the stand. <\/p>\n
\u201cMy name\u2019s Cali,\u201d I said. He towered over me. I hadn\u2019t been able to see how tall he was from a distance. My whole body tingled. I shouldn\u2019t be doing this. <\/p>\n
\u201cCan I help you?\u201d His voice was soft, with a hint of an accent. Maybe Thai? I\u2019d query it in Learning tomorrow. \u201cI\u2019m off shift right now, but I suppose I could answer a quick question.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I\u2019m not a pool patron,\u201d I said too quickly, trying not to let my face grow hot. \u201cI\u2019m new in town,\u201d I said. I regretted the lie instantly. \u201cBut I thought you looked about my age\u2026\u201d far from it. He was teenaged and I was three.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name\u2019s Kusa. I was about to go join my friends at the park. Do you want to come?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled and nodded.
\n<\/p>\n
His friends sat in a grassy field on bleach-spotted towels with ragged edges. \u201cHey guys, this is Cali. She just moved here. I met her at the pool.\u201d He pointed around the group. \u201cThis is Ali, Greg, Alfons, and Nadya.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome sit down,\u201d Ali called to me. \u201cWhere did you move from?\u201d<\/p>\n
What could I say that would inspire the least curiosity? \u201cMissouri.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy aunt lives in St. Charles,\u201d Alfons said. I smiled and nodded as if I knew. <\/p>\n
I leaned back and stared up at the sky. I listened absently to the conversation around me, enjoying its existence more than its content. They talked about people I didn\u2019t know, bands I didn\u2019t know. I\u2019d never \u201chung out\u201d before. This was only my tenth day of Free Time, a rite of passage when a brief person turned 3.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe must be boring you!\u201d Ali said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just quiet. I like to listen,\u201d I said. <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you do for fun?\u201d<\/p>\n
I spent all my days in Learning, and all my evenings working with all the other brief kids. I studied physics\u2026 I could make that work. \u201cI like the stars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCool, you\u2019re into astronomy?\u201d Ali asked. \u201cDo you have a telescope?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething like that, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
They went back to talking of current events and new movies. I watched Kusa, though I tried not to be obvious. When he smiled at me, I felt like Einstein was watching because time dilated. <\/p>\n
Later, Ali and Nadya left for work. Greg had dance, and Alfons had to pick up his sister from tae-kwon-do. <\/p>\n
\u201cI should go too,\u201d Kusa said. He rubbed the back of his neck. I thought he seemed a little awkward, but what did I know about long people? I studied his face. I\u2019d watched couples kiss in videos. I tried to recall them. I wanted to get this right. It was Sunday, and I wouldn\u2019t have Free Time again until Saturday, a small eternity.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo I have something on my face?\u201d Kusa asked.<\/p>\n
I leaned over and put my lips to his lips. At first he jumped, but not away from me. My body was on fire, but my brain fired furiously logging and analyzing the event. The texture of someone else\u2019s lips, soft muscles under the skin. The musky smell of his sun-baked sweat. The warmth of exhalation against my cheek. I pulled away.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2026 what was that for?\u201d He stammered. His cheeks were rosy.<\/p>\n
\u201cI like you,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ve got to go,\u201d I stood up and left. When I peeked over my shoulder, he was still watching me, his mouth gaping a little.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what did you do with your afternoon?\u201d Disa asked. It was time for evening calisthenics.<\/p>\n
\u201cI met a boy,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI went- wait, a boy? A long boy?\u201d She smiled and blushed. <\/p>\n
\u201cYea,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd his friends.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you tell them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t tell them I was brief, if that\u2019s what you mean. I said I was new in town.\u201d<\/p>\n
The teacher led us in our evening calisthenics. Brief people age about five times faster than long people, which means we grow much faster. Though I\u2019m small compared to a long 15 year old, I\u2019m extraordinarily big for a three year old. I hated the calisthenics, but then it was better than the alternative. Before they developed the regimens for the early brief people, they would get terrible muscle cramps and strained tendons. Sometimes calisthenics were nice after a long day of Learning, hooked up to those machines and staying still for so long, but most days it was still a chore.<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t get to see him for a whole week. Will he forget me by then?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot if you made an impression. Did you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt my face burning brightly and I giggled. Disa giggled too and soon I fell out of the posture. <\/p>\n
\u201cDisa, Cali, is there a problem?\u201d the teacher said. His face was stern. It was easy to stop laughing, looking at a face like that.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Sorry sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
After calisthenics, there was second dinner. I told Disa everything\u2014about the bands, about the slow, silly way they talked sometimes, knowing it was silly and not minding. We talked about it until the sleeping bell sounded.<\/p>\n
Monday and Tuesday passed. Wednesday dragged on for an eternity. Three times the Learning machine recorded my mind wandering. On Thursday it was four times. I focused my mind razor sharp on Friday. If the machine logged three days of poor performance, I might lose my weekend Free Time. Late morning and evening calisthenics classes passed too. I told Disa everything there was to tell, and after that we speculated and pondered and finally invented wild fantasies.<\/p>\n
The Learning session on Saturday morning passed a second at a time. At last it was 11:30; I think I never left Learning so quickly.<\/p>\n
I went back to the room I shared with three girls my age. I picked out a favorite summery blouse from the closet we shared. It was too tight in the bust. My breasts had chosen to come in recently. I hated it. I didn\u2019t want to grow up and have to work all the time. I found another shirt with a little more stretch. <\/p>\n
Perhaps my new development would be enticing to Kusa. It was strange to ponder my appeal. Disa had entertained fantasies of some brief boys. I never had. Someday I\u2019d have to pick one to have children with. Every time I even tried to fantasize about one of them, that\u2019s where it ended. With Kusa, I could be anyone. <\/p>\n
I hurried out of our campus. I paused near the pool to catch my breath. I hoped he would be working. What would I do if he weren\u2019t?<\/p>\n
When I arrived, he wasn\u2019t in the chair. My heart sank. I felt weak.<\/p>\n
\u201cCali?\u201d Kusa said from behind me. \u201cI\u2019m still on shift for another 15 minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll wait,\u201d I said. I smiled so hard it hurt a little, but I couldn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n
\u201cWant to go hang out?\u201d He asked after his shift. <\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you could show me the town,\u201d I said. We took the bus downtown. I\u2019d only been there a few times, and mostly for laboratory field trips, so I was genuinely curious. We went to his favorite hot dog stand (I wasn\u2019t impressed) and to his favorite spot by the river. The barges drifted lazily past the park bench. Kusa put his hand on mine. We leaned close and he wrapped his arm around the small of my waist.<\/p>\n
I met Kusa the next day and every weekend. I told him I took classes during the week. I invented more lies when the days grew shorter and long teenagers returned to school. I didn\u2019t know if he could accept me as a brief person, and I didn\u2019t know if I cared if he could. It was so simple this way.<\/p>\n
The days grew shorter yet, and the leaves turned ochre and fell from the trees. We sat on the bench by the river for hours in the cool dry air. Barges puttered by. Birds dove and swam and flew. The waters shimmered past in eddies and ripples, reflecting the fiery colors of fall.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you have autumn in Missouri?\u201d Kusa asked one day. His cheeks were rosy with autumn chill. His warm breath was just visible in the air.<\/p>\n
I was only two years old the last time it was fall\u2014a ten year old in long years. I had never had free hours to enjoy the seasons before, either.<\/p>\n
I shrugged more casually than I felt. \u201cWe have to appreciate good things while there is time.\u201d<\/p>\n
In November, it was Kusa\u2019s 16th birthday. I wondered if I\u2019d live to see my own. I\u2019d pondered what I should do for his birthday for weeks.<\/p>\n
Amongst brief people, even half birthdays are major events. Should I do something sexual? Beyond concerns of crassness, I had serious reservations about whether or not things would fit. He was very tall, and I was so small. But then what? I had no personal money to buy things, and little time to myself to make things. I discussed it endlessly with Disa, and queried the net in spare moments. <\/p>\n
I taught him a dance. Disa and I invented it one day after calisthenics. Most of the moves were part of our stretching routine. It was probably klutzy looking; Disa and I had fallen over laughing at its oddness a dozen times. I taught it to him, in the middle of the pizza parlor, in front of his giggling friends. <\/p>\n
In January, I celebrated my own half birthday, though not with Kusa. Long people didn\u2019t care about all those milestones. It was also time to start preparing for my four-year selection, when I would pick a research topic.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou seem distracted,\u201d Kusa said. It was snowing. A thin veneer of ice had formed at the rivers edges, catching the snow. On the trees around us, thousands of tiny branches glittered.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo I?\u201d I said. I still didn\u2019t know what to tell Kusa about the selections. My half-birthday also signified the halfway point of my free year. In six more months I wouldn\u2019t have time for Kusa. It had never occurred to me before. A year had seemed an infinite time to fall in love again and again. <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been worrying about college,\u201d he said. \u201cI wish my grades were better.\u201d<\/p>\n
In a way, he had a selection of his own to worry about. But, like always, he had time. I nodded.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t assuage his fears, and he couldn\u2019t assuage mine. But I could be here, for now. We kissed. His breath was hot against my cold face. I touched my cheek to his icy cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you,\u201d he said. I think I\u2019d loved him since I\u2019d first seen him on that lifeguard stand. My heart felt heavy. <\/p>\n
In March Disa picked a study group in Trondheim, Norway. When she turned four in June, she would spend a month studying there. Then she would return to our brief campus, which was more set up for our needs. Once she returned, she would be considered an adult. It wasn\u2019t required, but it was expected that she would pick a mate before she turned four and a half. <\/p>\n
\u201cMate selection is as important as research selection,\u201d she told me at calisthenics. \u201cWe each have an intellectual and a biological legacy to leave behind. You should start thinking about it too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI still haven\u2019t picked my research topic. There\u2019s still a lot of time.\u201d<\/p>\n
She smirked.<\/p>\n
One Saturday in March, the buds on the tulip trees were just beginning to open. I wished the seasons would cycle faster. I felt out of sync with the world. Kusa and I sat on our pollen-coated bench in the damp, cool breeze.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow is Disa?\u201d Kusa asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s fine,\u201d I said. Disa and I hadn\u2019t spoken in a week, longer than any time before.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs everything alright? You seem wound up.\u201d<\/p>\n
My life shot forward, while his idled in the daisies. For a moment, I felt so resentful. But he smiled and it all melted away. I stroked his cheek softly. A little weak stubble had grown in. He was growing up, too, but too slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAli and Alfons and the others are going to a concert tonight. I know you\u2019re usually busy in the evenings, but–\u201d<\/p>\n
I had calisthenics. But to hell with that, I\u2019d dance at the concert and make up for it. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kusa illuminated. \u201cGreat!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCali! Kusa!\u201d Nadya cried in the crowded hall. All around me, hundreds of teens in trendy, flesh-baring outfits mingled and danced. My own sweatshirt and jeans seemed out of place.<\/p>\n
The opening band came on. The kids roared. I didn\u2019t know who they were, but I roared too. Alfons elbowed me. I looked down and saw a flask, of alcohol, I assumed. I\u2019d never drank. I took a deep, burning drink. I coughed and passed it back. <\/p>\n
By the time the main act appeared, I had taken two more swigs, and the world was swimming. I hung my arm over Kusa. I didn\u2019t care about the music, so it was easy to ignore the loud performance. In the cacophony and crowd, it was a little like being utterly alone. We kissed. His lips tasted like the burning alcohol as well. I ground against him. He held me around my waist. I wanted to be with him. I didn\u2019t want to be with any brief boys. Why couldn\u2019t I choose Kusa? <\/p>\n
Kusa slid his hand up under my shirt. My ragged breath against his face told him I had no objections. I felt his rough fingertips on my nipple and moaned. I wanted to be with him. I broke the kiss and took him by the hand away from the roil of teenagers.<\/p>\n
I led Kusa into a handicapped bathroom. I could tell he wanted me. I peeled off my sweatshirt and my t-shirt. He tried to take my bra off, but eventually I had to do it for him. He kissed my neck. I stood topless next to him, feeling tiny. I think he was even taller than when we met. I undid his belt buckle and he groaned softly. I kissed him. I was hot all over. He reached into his pants. The old panic returned. That would never fit. This would never work.<\/p>\n
This would never work. I had to be an adult in a few months. I stopped. I didn\u2019t know what to do.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have a condom?\u201d He asked, his mind where it ought to be. His face looked exactly as it had when I\u2019d first met him. My own pictures from last summer looked so different. We were out of phase. I picked up my t-shirt and pulled it on as I ran out the door.<\/p>\n
I ran three straight miles back to campus. Disa stopped me at the gate.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere have you been? You missed calisthenics.\u201d<\/p>\n
Now that I\u2019d stopped running, my stomach turned. I vomited in the bushes. \u201cLet\u2019s not talk about it.\u201d She came over and stroked me on the back.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is your bra?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t see Kusa the next day or the next weekend. Finally I couldn\u2019t ignore his texts and messages. We met on our park bench. Dogwood blossoms spotted the banks of the river.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry I upset you at the concert. I shouldn\u2019t have taken advantage of you in a state like that.\u201d I could imagine the look on his face, that hangdog puppy face. I gazed at the dogwoods instead.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was the one that dragged you to the bathroom,\u201d I said. <\/p>\n
\u201cYea\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere are some things you don\u2019t know about me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Birds twittered. I didn\u2019t even know where to start.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you ever heard of brief people?\u201d I asked him.<\/p>\n
\u201cAren\u2019t they research people? I think there\u2019s a campus of them not too far from the pool\u2026 Wait\u2026 you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m brief.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know they were allowed to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t often, but we are encouraged to explore the world some before we enter our research career as adults, since there are things the machines can\u2019t teach us. As adults we\u2019re free to explore as we like, but we have little time\u2026\u201d Time. \u201cYou\u2019ve probably seen brief people without knowing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo\u2026 how old are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be four in the summer.\u201d<\/p>\n
He exhaled as if struck. \u201cGod.\u201d There was silence. \u201cWill you even live to see my age?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably. But probably not twenty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI still love you,\u201d he said. \u201cI still want to be with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tears brimmed in my eyes. \u201cIt isn\u2019t that simple. When I turn four, I\u2019m an adult. I have to start my research career.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I have to start having kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one can make you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, that\u2019s true. But I won\u2019t be able to have kids after I\u2019m nine or so. To sustain our numbers, I should have at least two.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s stupid,\u201d he said, his voice turning to anger. \u201cWhat\u2019s the point of breeding people that don\u2019t live to see twenty? What kind of life is that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my life,\u201d I said gently. \u201cDid I not deserve to live?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh\u2026 I\u2019m sorry\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve wondered the same thing before. But I get to do exquisite research. Because of the structure of our brains, we learn much faster. When I turn four, I get to join almost any research project I want to. We\u2019re the ultimate researchers.\u201d I\u2019d been dreading my adulthood, but telling Kusa about it, I was excited at the opportunities. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t do that kind of research and live a normal life?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight now, the two are mutually exclusive. Though I\u2019m sure someone\u2019s doing research on it.\u201d Somewhere, ambulance sirens rang out. \u201cSo you see we really can\u2019t be together. Even if you were willing to have kids now, I don\u2019t know what that would mean. And I probably won\u2019t be there when you turn thirty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t care, I don\u2019t care!\u201d He shouted.<\/p>\n
\u201cI do,\u201d I said quietly. He seemed so like a little boy. I would continue to age. It would only become more so. I had caused him so much pain with my adventure. But I\u2019d been younger than him when I started. We had started in phase.<\/p>\n
I kissed his head. \u201cGoodbye.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t say anything, but I could see him softly shaking as I walked away from the park bench.<\/p>\n
END<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I saw him on a walk after Learning. I don\u2019t usually interact with long people, but when I saw him brush his shining black hair from his eyes, I was transfixed. I waited around the pool until he came off the stand. \u201cMy name\u2019s Cali,\u201d I said. He towered over me. I hadn\u2019t been able …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":156,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,125,902],"tags":[903],"class_list":["post-7089","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-futuristic","category-tcl-10-winter-2014","tag-the-colored-lens-10-winter-2014","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7089","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/156"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7089"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7089\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139632,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7089\/revisions\/139632"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7089"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7089"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7089"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}