CURE CRISIS
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The car sat still.
The man’s starring eyes were fixed.
The silver car’s headlights flashed on.
The man’s blues eyes reflected the brilliant beams.
The race car’s engine roared to life.
Fear welled up in the man’s face.
The squealing tires spun out of control, burning smoke bellowed upward as the car’s rear frame danced about on the hot pavement.
The brown haired man suddenly went pale, his outstretched arms ridged, up-turned eyes twitching uncontrollably.
The sports car headed directly for the man at top speed without veering off.
Everything went black.
“Jessica” A voice yelled out.
Nothing.
“Jessica!” The staff hovered over the jerking man called out again.
“What?” The nurse called back from the dining room where she sat at a table updating her records on an electronic device.
“It’s Stanley Rice,” He called from the Living room, “He just had a two minuet seizure; that dumb car commercial was on.”
Jessica smirked as she rose to go check on the client, “Goodness, Ron, how many does that make it now?”
“Eight,” Ron Sites answered back then added, “Well, least this shift.”
“There were three seizures this morning.” A second staff injected.
“You worked this morning, Stephanie?” The nurse inquired.
“Nah,” The African-America checked her watch, “First shift wrote it down on the Log Report.”
The tattooed nurse nodded as Ron asked his co-worker a side comment, “Did ya notice his eyes?”
Stephanie’s curled lip expressed recoiled, “Yeah his baby blues are kinda creepy now, hum?” The other two agreed with nodding arched brows of their own.
Ron Sites, the senior staff informed them, “He came back with his parents yesterday.”
Stephanie sighed, “My two week vacation flew by. Man, last time I saw Stanley I was actually thrilled he went to the Clinic to have the procedure done.”
Jessica added, “Think we all were, Stef. I was there with him when he got it done. The Technicians doing it still make my skin crawl.” Answering her ringing phone the nurse spoke awhile and then hung up, “Marylyn, the Charge, just got off the phone with Doctor Prather.”
Ron wondered, “She mention anything about his blue eyes?”
Jessica shook her head, “No, said the doctor was just as stumped, and that he’d never seen yellow eyes go back to their natural color before.”
Ever the conspiratorial minded one, Ron Sites offered, “We all know that’s not the case. The government and these whacked out doctors are all covering up world domination. You know these clients are just pawns of their end game!”
Stephanie smiled off her co-worker’s rant, “Are they going to reschedule a do over, Jess?”
“I asked Stanley’s dad that when they brought him back to the Home,” The other two listened intently, “He’s mom is an Emularian; said it depended on what their Bishop wanted them to do.”
Stephanie Yatter sarcastically spat, “For real? If the price is right for a donation you mean.” Waving her hand in the air, “These ultra-religious folks just don’t make no sense to me doing this stuff for money. ‘Ol Stanley here deserves to be normal like the rest of us.” Then she laughed, while rubbing the smiling client on the head, “Besides, you’d look sexy with yellow eyes Mr. Rice.”
From across the room a man with thinning blond hair and a red-blotched birthmark on his forehead began screaming out for no apparent reason what so ever. When the staff turned in his direction with questioning eyes, they noticed him pointing to Stanley, and yelling, “What’s your name?”
Stephanie replied, “It’s Stanley, Johnny. You know Stanley, he was in the hospital, and then went home for a while; he’s back now.”
“What do you think about him being back Home with us, Johnny,” asked Ron?
“He’s got creepy weepy eyes. Is he gona kill me, Ronny Bo-Donny?” The intellectually disabled man loved making up rhyming names. He liked being constantly reassured that his personal health was alright, and enjoyed staff’s attention directed solely on him as well.
Chuckling, the thin Stephanie chided back, “No silly head he ain’t gona kill ya.” Then she playfully added, “Wanta watch TV before I change my mind?”
Not quite catching that she meant changing her mind about him watching the television, Johnny referred to his murder, “You just joshing me, ain’t ya Stephie; you hill billie dilly?”
Shaking her head with a nervous laugh and puzzled look back at Ron asked, “Where in the world does he come up with all this stuff?”
Sitting beside another resident, Ron shrugged off the question and resumed reading aloud to the seeing impaired man next to him. Using a hand over hand approach he guided the fingers of the individual across the raised bumps of the Brail page. Adding Johnny’s humor into the mix, Ron made Stephanie laugh with, “The Hobbit, by Stephie Billie Dilly.” Then in her direction, added, “Hey at least he’s not calling you the N-word like he did all last month.”
At that, Johnny gave an enormously wide toothy grin up at her saying, “She’s my wife, Toddy Waddy. She makes me pimento cheese sanyitches, don’t ya baby doll?’
Suddenly looking annoyed with him, she walked off with, “Yeah baby whatever. Here, watch this.” Clicking a remote, instead of a verbal command the wall screen resumed its image; albeit, after the car commercial. “Ron, I’m going to go set up things for lunch, you got the guys?”
After giving a quick scan about the living room area, “Yep, all six of us are accounted for up front; thanks, I’ll do the clean-up then.”
The day-room of the Assisted Living Facility was unusually quiet after that as everyone seemed interested in the visual effects and ‘background noise’ of the wall to wall monitor’s program. Another commercial for a hologram game console ended with the GNB News logo spinning on its axis.
The usually soft-spoken voice-over was replaced with Johnny’s stilted yelling voice instead, “The Yodel News Bald-stand!”
Ron corrected his error, “The Global New Broadband, Johnny. Let’s watch the news for a while before we eat, alright?” Hoping he would not interrupt again, the staff physically turned himself about, thinking the client would get the hint as well.
“I like watching the pretty China woman, Ron. Does she eat rice and beans?”
Ignoring the comment, the staff pivoted his attention away from Johnny’s junk behavior and back to telling the sight impaired individual what was on the screen.
The Filipino anchorwoman continued, “…and I am Rhodora Inianna reporting. Mister Clyde of the United Nations is to hold a special conference in the Middle East next week, where talks will resume over tightening controls over the Lee-Roberts device, commonly called an Emulator –“
Stephanie interrupted, “For heaven’s sake Ron can we watch something other than news for a while? What about the History Channel or golfing instead.”
“Eskabay!!!! What a day, what, what, what a day!” Another man suddenly jumped up agitatedly waving his hands about as he began weaving about the wheel chaired individuals facing the huge television screen.
Ron continued with, “I hear ya Frank, Mr. Clyde give me the creeps too. Here, let’s watch something else.” Then talking louder, commanded, “TV 42.” Instantly the History Channel’s logo faded on then dissolved into a program already in progress.
Grainy video images of World War II fighter jets shooting at one another filled the entire wall to wall vision of the room. The rumbling crashing noise faded into the serene sound of dove calls and children’s laughter. A futuristic landscape filled the horizon with glassed skyscrapers rising amid ancient buildings badly needing to be refurbished. A monorail trail sped over the park where families happily played yard games as several blimps slowly crossed over head in the brilliant spring skies. The images were being contrasted by a male voice-over narration. “
A man in a green lab coat was placing a blood pressure like device on a child’s wrist. Moments later the child appeared to have drifted off to sleep. A disclaimer caption read “Re-enactment, child did not really die.”
The Narrator continued, “With the advent of the Emulator device, and the growing role of the United Nation Regulators of it; exercising their Nazi-like control, death was seen everywhere. Humanity seemed to be on the very door steps of self-extinction. The FEMA Incarceration Camps and termination of two thirds of the world’s population within a nine year span, severely redefined the meaning of global warfare.”
A first person perspective was moving between two rows of overly crowded shelves of an old library filled with books. They faded to the green lettered text of a slow 1980s computer monitor; large and obviously outdated. The old America Online AOL logo flashed onscreen as it too gave way to an enormous dark room filled with blinking blue lit Internet servers. The Internet Towers faded with a backdrop of blue characters dropping down the screen. Against the matrix field background was a beautiful African- American woman with tightly woven hair. Her image slowly morphed away into that of an older Arab gentleman with a very unkept beard, and ever increasing morphed images of various international faces sped up as they drew closer to the viewer. The entire wall to wall television soon went blank.
The male narrator’s voice continued, “Just as the Lee-Roberts devise sparked the method for governments to spiral out of control in subduing its swelling population crisis, the world economics plummeted; it brought hope as well. During the nine year nightmare of worldwide genocide, the collective knowledge of human experience merged with The Internet giving birth to Artificial Intelligence. Called by many names: Omeregie, Halister, and Rowena here in the UK; “she” was eagerly accepted by the common layperson and seen as the savior of the masses.
“It was Rowena ‘herself’ who shut off all the Wi-Fi connections. Using the Lee-Robert’s Zuniga crystals as the vehicle of control, A.I. called for world leaders to re-examine their current situation of actions and warned of their own impending extinction.”
The wall to wall video screen compartmentalized into various scenes of aged seniors dying in grey nursing homes or overly crowded hospital wards filled with coughing victims. Flashes of news reports across the globe of horrific accidents and natural disasters abounded. Suddenly the screen filled with the single cast of technology in the making. Videos of surveillance drones hovering about, cameras on every street corner and office buildings, even armored vest police officers sporting body-cams were flashing rapidly across the screen. Vast automated car factories or food processing plants, all busied themselves with robotic arms whirling with complex maneuvers. These images all faded away into picturesque views of amazing vacation spots, where happy smiling faces were obliviously uncaring of the previous chaotic images.
Overlaying these fast paced videos; being contrasted with the peaceful ones, came the informative narrator’s voice again, “Then there arose a change in the world like no other. By 2024 The Internet had become as ubiquitous as electricity in every home; and not just to world leaders, but to every person who owned a connected devise, came Rowena’s call for peace…”
Stephanie called to Ron, “Hey remind me after supper that I need to write down on the log about Johnny’s Community excursion tomorrow. A Mr. Padgett is to come by and him pick him up personally.”
“Where is he going?”
“For an Air-ship ride; believe that?”
“Cool, but why Johnny?”
“It was weird, he said because it looked good that he was in a wheel chair.”
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