The Stand-In
—an excerpt—
“How are we feeling today, Jeffrey?”
It’s Ben.
“Well thank you, Mother.”
Her breath smells as rank as Jeffrey’s stupid mutt and she’s about as ugly.
“Wonderful. And what a big day it is! We know it’s been hard, being away from your Mummy and Daddy for so long but your education has gone swimmingly, and after the procedure, it’s reintegration! You’ll be back to your old life in no time!”
That’s what she thinks.
A sliver of plastic slips from my shirtsleeve. I nudge it back up before Mother notices.
“The procedure will take hours. You’ll have some pain and swelling for a few weeks, but we’ll take wonderful care of our model student. Now, show Mother that juicy vein of yours.”
I call this one The Butcher.
“Well look at that! I must have misplaced the syringe. I really ought to be more careful! Good thing I always carry a backup. You can never be too prepared, can you, Jeffrey?”
“No, Mother.”
The Butcher produces a second needle and withdraws the forgetting serum. I squeeze my eyes shut and let my mind go blank.
“Oopsie daisy, missed again! You know what they say, third time's a charm!”
Reintegration. That’s when we move into their fancy homes and live their lives, carrying on this demented charade that their spoiled unvaccinated children never died in the epidemic.
