The Bitter Half          

4,949 wds              

Many citizens had vanished, as in the rest of the nation, leaving our flat middle grid of farms and small towns equally clueless. These sudden social gaps occurring all over the country made folks                 around here think we were, unusual as it might sound, lucky. 

One of the mysteriously missing, a respected lawyer, left a car parked at the curb, engine running, walked into an apartment building and never came out. No one saw an exit and complicating the mystery, no information was available or why the visit. Another citizen was very large and needed ten minutes to walk from one end of the yard to the other, yet this person of heft vanished without opening the gate in a very high fence; climbing stairs was an arduous endeavor, vaulting a fence? Impossible. Another vanished face was young and strong, distinguished in military service, with a new family and promising career, all suddenly gone. The police and sheriff departments lacked evidence and direction so they were incapable of action. Instead of action they generated motion. 

Many more vanished as mysteriously, yet even so, there was little concern. In private conversation these sudden gaps in the population were attributed to increased gang activity from the big city north on the big lake; this phenomenon became "the real trickle down." The missing were redefined as deadbeat parents, people fleeing debt, or, the most common assumption, ‘they fell in a hole.’ Statistics in support of this latter concept are scarce.

Further speculative energy spun the theory that extraterrestrial forces were harvesting us for consumption or experimentation. A popular blogger, noted conspiracy champ and rural spokesperson addressed this possibility; ‘there are enough of us now, it may be time to bring in the sheaves,’ and concluded that a harvest of humanity might benefit the survivors. This notion, not on any list of acceptable ideas, was ignored or jettisoned by all but a very small group that clung to it with inflexible devotion as an ultimate reality.

On a warm weekend evening amid such public thoughts and feelings, Parent O_ felt inclined to walk in the moonlight with Infant   C_. Parent and child stood, the original and the miniature, pondering level fields in the door of a barn, now a dance hall. While the musicians rested between sets O_ timidly told X_, co-parent of C_, what they would do. X_ had no patience with timidity, in particular concerning quality parenting and sternly warned O_ to return before the next dance commenced, “or you will miss the fun.” 

O_ moisture checked the child's diaper then hoisted C_, as C_ would angrily or tearfully demand, high on adult shoulders. The child chortled gleefully, was it the pleasure of the ride or placement above authority?  

“Hurry back!” X_ cried, “the dance starts again in twenty minutes!” The harsh tone, which O_ habitually ignored for the sake of peace in the marriage, might have surprised a stranger.

“We’ll just have a ramble under the moon, honey, “ A replied, oversweet. “Don’t worry.”

The dance hall was near a shallow lake on a farm owned by a former city dweller and had become a haven for urbanites. The sweet fresh air, punctuated by farm stink, contrasted with the city aroma of, rotting garbage, gasoline fumes and flowers. Beyond the barn dance lights and music crickets roared, each king of a grass blade or queen of a stone. 

Concerned about the danger indicated by vanished citizens, O_ first walked to their car by the road to get a small revolver from the glove box, then thought, i don’t know if we have bullets or if i can even shoot it! And who would disappear us, thought O_, we are but two of billions! O_ left the rod in the car and walked on without stopping. 

“It’s a wonderful night, isn’t it, C_?” O_ chortled, bouncing the baby.

C_ gurgled and pulled parental hair. High on shoulders and a mild awareness of danger, they walked along a fence on a stony path that led to the lake surrounded by trees. At the end of the path by the lake they found several large rocks smooth and shapely as a couch. O_ removed the child from high shoulders and set C_ close. They reclined.

“This is what it’s all about, my sweetness, “ O_ said, “living in harmony with nature. Is there a purpose more true?”

C_ joy-gurgled.

“That’s right, sweet love, rest, relax harmonious.” The infant sat sleepy smiling, moonlit face in the soft air. 

   The child looks like both of us in some ways, thought O_, but has my personality, i hope.

Abruptly, all that was natural ceased. 

O_ remembered it this way; a beam of light, intense yet soft on the eyes, thick, warm and soothing, descended and enclosed them and their immediate area. In one moment without physical strain, shift or bump and no new odor in the air, O_ was sat in a circular chamber with glossy black walls. The light ascended, diffused into a high ceiling. 

The beam of light, O_ was soon to learn, was condensed and projected by creatures skimming in their craft high above the atmosphere. Now the earthling was their prisoner, soon to be their guest. As by the lakeshore, O_ reclined in comfort and complete confusion. 

Someone spoke, “Okeedokee, friend, you can stand up now. By golly it’s good to see ya, you bet. Welcome aboard.”

O_ stood, confused, wondering, where have i heard that voice? Rantoul? Champaign-Urbana?

Then panic flooded in. Where is C_? Too stunned to cry out, O_ looked around the room for the child. There was no child!

   “Oh, the little one,” said the voice, “now don’t worry about the little one. Your darling child has been placed under a protective cone and will remain perfectly safe until found.” 

Despite fear and anger O_ thought, Hmmmm, Good PR.

Around the wide, tall chamber walls appeared human sized creatures issuing from fissures or fluid portals. All heads had round, flat-tops rising out of larger round chests with three arms above hips with three legs. Each post head had something vaguely nose and mouth-like in the bottom half and a wide band of eyes around the top, all swimming in swirling black inky fluid occasionally crossed by lines of color.  Each of their hands had six fingers and two thumbs appearing to be operable equally flipping from the palm or the back of hand. Occasionally a light shone on the smooth black walls of the chamber and a creature would place a hand on the light until it went out. All parts of the room were softly and evenly lighted. The air smelled like flowers.

Several creatures approached the human. They were all the same height, about six feet tall, so their standing at the edge of the platform brought them eyes to eyes with O_.

“Hello, earthling, and welcome. We want you to know from the git-go that you have been taken by us for purely scientific reasons. Nothing personal, you know.” The Midwestern accent was comforting.  “We want you to know we won’t cut off your eyelids and soak your eyeballs in chemicals to test cosmetics. We won’t cram you into a crate so small you can’t move and force feed you down a tube until your liver is swollen thick with tasty juices. In fact, you will feel no pain at all. It is a pity we won’t be able to put you back together again, but you can take comfort in the fact that the life you lose will greatly enrich our scientific knowledge.” Their voices leapt into song;

   ‘Some life has to go,

       So we may know.’

The tone was deep, pleasant, excited, as if their subject was birth instead of death.

“You can’t do that!” O_ shouted.

Still pleasant; “And why not?  We just plucked you from the planet many many miles below. We tracked you and waited and wrapped you in light and ~ bingo, dude, here you are. We can do with you as we please! Nuff said, eh?”

  “But you have no right to kill me!”

“Oh no no no, please excuse us, it’s our misunderstanding, so sorry. This isn’t killing. We intend to create a ‘value added product.’”

“By cutting the life out of me?”

“Hey, it’s all in the way you look at it, y’know. One person’s value is another person’s product.” 

“But i’m innocent, i’ve done nothing wrong, i’ve hurt no one! I give to charities, i volunteer, i pay my taxes!”

The responding tone remained pleasant, level and soothing. “Oh sure, you are innocent and of course you pay taxes and then care nothing for how those moneys are wasted on the comfort of the arrogant few and the misery of billions. You stand by and pretend not to notice and do nothing as these arrogant few direct the poisoning and strangulation of this planet, the jewel of the universe. You drove to that dance in a car, didn‘t you? Ha!” There was no pause for breath. “You believe you can increase, no matter how much land you steal from others already living on it and every day you eat the flesh of animals and not only do you eat them but you condemn them to horrible living conditions before you hoist them by their hind legs, slash their throats so their bodies drain and hack them into choice cuts and gorge on them. Please don’t mention the word ethics.” 

“Now, just for your information, our procedure is simple,” the voice continued in a more moderate tone. “After you lose consciousness, if you are in fact possessed of that rare trait, we remove the top of your head and inject chemicals into your brain and study the movement of your arms and legs. It’s cruel, but it’s our job. We do it for science. So, up you go, into The Slot!”

Several creatures approached the trembling earthling, who shouted, “Wait, i have something to say and you need to listen! I don’t kill animals! I’m a vegetarian!”

Everyone stopped moving. In the top layer of the post-like heads the eyes, which had looked forth possessed of various points of attention and slowly blinking, were all now on every head unblinking and fixed on O_.

“You are a vegetarian?”

“Yes i am, i’ve been one for twenty years.”

One of the creatures pointed an instrument at O_ who flinched but felt nothing. The instrument was then examined among them, each taking a close look, absorbing it through fingertips, and the one with the voice, whoever it was, said, "You speak the truth. That in itself is unusual, but what you say is confirmed. We detect only residues attributable to accidental consumption."

"J. Breen's Cole slaw."

"J. Breen's Cole slaw?"

“A co-worker, always brings Cole slaw to pot lucks and it’s the best, i’ve never been able to beat it and i can’t resist it, but there are bacon bits in it. It’s tough, i have to pick out the bacon and i hate bacon and J. loves to watch. Then i have to accept the most insincere apology and pretend to believe claims that the silly spouse added the pig. Oh it makes me so mad when you know it’s all a lie. J. Breen probably thinks i’m alive today, sustained by the bacon bits i’ve accidentally eaten in that Cole slaw. I wish you could meet J. Breen.”

The creatures had stopped listening to O_. They silently looked at each other, bodies moving, gesturing, apparently inwardly conversing. The earthling suspected they had an internal communication system or spoke in their native tongue at a pitch too high or low for the human ear. At last they concluded and the speaker said, “As a vegetarian, we have no authority to experiment on you. We are required to release you.”

  O_ nodded without smiling, not wanting to tempt them into another change of minds. 

“Unless, of course . . .” A deep, motionless silence fell on them. “Do you mind telling us, what is your function?”

   “Function?”

“Your job.” 

“I’m a college professor.”

An upsurge of frolicsome merriment; a spirit of carnival seized the collective body of the creatures and the speaker burst forth; “Well then, you are quite harmless!” They all laughed in the key of C major.

“We’ll send you back to your child soon. But first we’d like to ask a few questions, do you mind?”

“No, i don’t mind.”

“Thank you, please follow me.”

One of the creatures turned away and the crowd parted for O_. They walked into another chamber, also circular, then into another, all with the black, smooth walls and the even light from floor and ceiling. 

“Whoa, am i glad to get out of that dissection chamber, place gives me the maximum creeps,” the creature said, the voice coming from the back of the post-head while some of the eyes looked at O_.. 

“Here we are. Please sit anywhere.” 

There were no chairs to, the room was entirely empty, but the earthling was a fast learner and sat on the air. Immediately a column of cushioned material rose and molded itself around O_’s legs, buttocks and back. Armrests rose and adjusted to fit. 

“Please wait. The captain will be in to speak with you. The ship’s doctor would also like to meet with you. Is there anything you need?” 

“Yes, i would like a drink of water.”

And there it was. A table rose from the floor with a glass of water on it.

O_ drank the water after the creature was gone. It quenched the thirst but not the rising fear, sheer panic lurking at the edge of it, that this was a trick and soon the popular characterization of space visitors would be revealed, followed by the harsh consequences of untested trust.

And my child, my child!

O_ also worried about X_, co-parent and spouse. Few who knew them would think such worry possible, knowing how long their love had been neglected, left to stray into a tangled bitterness.

But let's get to the point, concentrate; are these creatures deserving of trust? If so, what evidence favored trusting them?

They had laughed, true, and not maliciously, but it was strange laughter. Large bulbs suddenly protruded, bounced out to form pink cheeks that just as suddenly disappeared under the shining curve of the cylindrical inky heads. All those jolly bulbs like pink flashing lights were about the same size as ping pong balls and formed the only irregularity in the perfectly vertical heads. They had lips that remained resolutely closed and compressed no matter how much they might talk or laugh.  

In ancient Mayan society, O_ reflected, the shape of a baby’s head was often changed by tying a board against the forehead so, as the infant’s skull hardened, the forehead sloped back from the brows and the nose appeared more aquiline, like the beak of a bird of prey. To enhance the effect a small ball of wax was hung between the infant’s eyes, creating a cross-eyed condition and thereby emphasizing the hawk-like shape of the nose. Eyes set close and a long, curved nose was a Mayan standard of beauty. No one is certain of the origin of this manipulation. 

The manipulation of features to conform to a standard of beauty is common, even in animals less socially developed than humans. Many are thought to change their appearance for purposes of mating or camouflage, is it not possible that creatures from other worlds do the same? Technological changes do create physical changes of the mind and body. It might be impossible to avoid changes if humans travel in space. Such changes could become permanent, part of the genetic code and, most important, fashionable. The creatures on this ship may place tubes on the heads of infants to make them fit a standard, but how do they keep their skin so glossy, as if continuously moisturized? Do drugs make their sweat shiny?  Could this be the next trend in earthling fashions, a transfer of gloss from magazine pages to skin?

On subjects like fashion there is no end of speculation. After O_ drank the glass and set it on the table it filled with water again. 

The captain arrived. O_ knew who this was by the way the shoulders, head and torso were carried and how the captain with a sure and easy grace took possession of the room with an aura of unity that was yet distinct and solitary.

The captain’s voice was crisp, relaxed. “I want to ask you a few questions before we release you.” The human nodded, then spoke suddenly, "Yes, of course," because a creature without a neck and whose body didn’t bend at the waist might not understand a nod. 

Out of the floor came a a chair molding itself up around the captain’s three legs, surprising O_, who had not thought until the moment how one sits without buttocks. Surprising also was the captain’s sense of purpose and intensity of attention. O_ had never encountered it before in a human, especially not in a student. 

“What would you like to know, captain?” 

"I'm interested in communication. Specifically, your atmosphere is continuously infused with unhealthy toxins. Why?”

“Oh, you mean the climate change thing? Heating the air and all those hurricanes and floods?”

The captain’s look compelled the human to think, i better act smart or they'll kill me for being stupid. "Not enough people feel certain it's a problem so nothing gets done."

"Why not?"

"I'm glad you asked," replied O_, "the question is related to my profession. Nobody knows enough, or not enough people have the same knowledge because there is so much information available from so many different sources. That's one piece of it, and the other is that uniform, widespread communication that gets to a lot of people at the same time is for sale. Someone owns the means of communication so a person, not a principle, determines what is communicated, why and when. This cuts society into segments; those who know, those who don't know and those who are not supposed to learn anything or it will crowd out sport and celebrity statistics.”

“Why don’t those who know act?” 

“Yes, there are those who seek the truth no matter what. They pretty quickly lose their funding. Funding is linked to the version that's good for business."

"Business is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Me? Oh no, not me, i'm a college professor, but a lot of other people care about it. " 

“I see,” said the captain and it occurred to O_ that although visually well equipped the captain did not see, or, the earthling thought with a shudder, saw more.

“Who sells communication?”

“We don’t know for sure, but a close study of the situation suggests one person somewhere in a very small room without windows makes all the decisions about what most of the people, in my country anyway, see and hear. That’s my country; i don’t know about the rest of the world.”

"Are you sure?"

"No i'm not, but that's what it looks like."

There was silence full of absorption and, for O_, the captain's many eyes.

O_ spoke. "Can i ask a question?"

"Please do."

"Why are you here, i mean, cutting us up, studying humans. Why do you do it? What are you going to do to us?"

"We just collect data, that's all."

"What about the human race then, are you going to enslave us or invade, blow us up or something?"

"No, none of that, we're just here to study you. This is a scientific survey vessel.’ We have no interest in conquest or colonization. If we did we would introduce an epidemic and you've already got those. We don't blow up anything."

"That's comforting. We often hear about creatures from other planets that run out of room so they come here to clear us out and take over." 

"Not us. We have a good planet and we've learned to live on it very well. In fact, we could not have left it and traveled here had we not learned to live there first. As for destroying you, why bother? You may destroy yourselves, or you may not survive some other calamity. If you do survive and achieve the ability to travel as we do then we will all be the same and get along."

"That's comforting."

"Our civilization was like yours at one time, in a potentially terminal condition and we saved ourselves.”

“Part luck, some talent.” 

“That’s all?”

The captain paused to look with all eyes at the human guest. “Ignorance is difficult to shed. Our communication skills paralyzed us until we learned to listen. Some people talk too much, everybody thinks too much. In the end it did prevent us from killing our planet and ourselves, but we still don't know why we're here, who made us and so forth." 

"You have religions?"

“Yes, the religion of wait and see.”

“But these people you scoop up, you cut them up, that’s immoral!”

“Calm down,” said the captain, “We only take the sick ones who will die soon anyway.”

They sat silent for a long moment.

"I must go," said the captain, rising. "It was a pleasure at last to speak to an earthling who is not a cannibal. Are vegetarians rare in your part of the planet?"

"In the Midwest? I would say so. In the Midwest cannibalism is a religion."

"I'm sorry for you."

"Thanks. I'll be alright."

"I'm glad we met, now we'll check out all our specimens more thoroughly so no vegetarians are examined. Is it acceptable for the ship's doctor to speak with you?"

"Yes, of course."

The captain left the chamber. 

In meeting the doctor O_ expected many strange instruments and a god-like attitude, but a moment later a confused looking creature shuffled in carrying nothing.

"Are you the vegetarian?"

"Yes."

"Oh good, I've got the right section then this ship is so easy to get lost with all these images and voices booming and bouncing me around.” The sawbones shifted and turned, moved one way and the other as if to sit, then shifting again as several chairs rose to meet the withdrawing form, then rose once more, hesitated, went down, all as the doctor talked and finally slowed enough for this particular chair, which appeared to know the customer, reached, grasped, fit and held tight. The doctor sat with a bump and a surprised look. “Nice to see you, how goes it, eh?"

”Fine. I'm alive, that's a good thing. I hope my child is well, do you know?"

"Yes, having fun, a great kid, nice.”

“The captain seemed morally blank about the specimens you collect,” the earthling made bold to ask, “That it’s not murder because the people are going to die soon anyway.”

“I know, isn't it terrible? The Slot they call it, horrible! I laid down in it once, just to feel what it was like, to be empathetic ~ oh God, never again, haven't been back there, never go back.”

Silence. The human felt a sudden desire to be home; on grass and surrounded by trees.  

“Do you mind if i ask a few ummm, questions?" the doctor said.

"Please do."

"Thank you. My duties as ship's doctor include psychologist and counselor," laughing, then stopping, the shrink appeared to adjust inner resources in a motionless moment, the eyes in post-head one by one clearing and gazing in the same direction; at the human face.  

"Well then, here we are, yes."

“Yes.”

“First, what do you do for work and play?” 

“I teach and do research. I think for a living rather than consuming physical energy. I’m an academic. Being a vegetarian tends to put me in the liberal political category though my understanding of the roots of politics obviates simple categories like liberal and conservative. Still, i must use these categories in lectures, they are too widely accepted. For play? We run, bicycle, dance. We have one child who is always playing.”

“Yes, the child. The child is still safe under our protective cone, by the way. Could you be more expansive in defining your employment categorization?”

“I teach the psychology of political science.”

“So, we're in the same employment category, kinda. Please illuminate if you would, the extent of your research parameters. “

“My most accomplished work is in establishing a similization dichotomy between taboo or forbidden recognition syndrome, that is, denial, its opposites and collectively established stimulus ratios or commonly held or withheld mythologized biosystematics.”

The doctor’s look of intensity momentarily brightened with an effervescent joy. The eyes danced with interest.

O_ continued, “I originated and did the initial research on the now very widely accepted theory linking political movements to trends in pornography.”

“Pornography? What’ i pornography?”

O_ knew then their cultural differences were profound.

“Pornography is representational actuation of reproduction, public sexual relations for reproduction stimulation, although the purpose is rarely to stimulate actual reproduction actuation. “

“Hmm, reproduction stimulation. That is redundant, i think. “

“I agree. The six main politico-cultural divisions and the thirty-four subdivisions of our species are primarily involved in outwardly directed material transformational functions and pornography and other reproductive stimuli, known as advertising, trigger a collateral response mechanism producing a pseudo- coitus called ‘shopping.’”

"Shopping! I've heard of that phenomenon. Does this accumulation of material transformational functions simulate a form of exstasis?"

"Yes, and it is demonstrably, specifically sexual, so this pseudo coitus creates massive increases in material transformational functions, but the purpose of my study was more profound.” 

“Please go on.”

“Through my research i demonstrate that when public displays of sexual acts in which the female is predominant, that is to say, the female skin surface covers most of the visual plane of the compositional tableau or the female exhibits more enjoyment or perceived advantages over the male, liberal policies and programs are set in motion. Of course lesbian acts of love stimulate radical left movements, my study demonstrated, while male homosexual events trigger conservative or right wing movements and policies."

“Quite naturally, i would think,” mused the doctor. “Please continue.”

“Correspondingly, when the male was clearly more satisfied and/or predominant ~ showed more skin ~ we found that most markedly when one figure alone was represented as the sole participant, a conservative government would rise and blossom, please pardon the pun.” 

“I see. The essential liberal nature being one of receiving or acceptance and the conservative essence manifestly elitist, appositional or solitary, yes?“ 

“Yes, to put it simply.“

“I have one last question. What’s a pun?”

This creature is a joy to talk to, thought O_. We have a place for this one on the faculty! The possibility of arranging a meeting (do we not all breathe the same air?) was sudden and thrilling and impossible. O_ was nevertheless warmed by the bond only those who love abstractions can feel and knew this citizen from another world also loved to stand open-minded in the face of time, of the void; undirected, adrift, aimless, waiting to be interested. For both of them the conversation ended too soon. It seemed like it took forever to say goodbye.

The next visitor had a brusque, friendly attitude. This was the chief engineer. When the engineer laughed the cheek bulbs bounced out farther and were red. 

“We’ll be dropping you back down soon, i’m here to escort you back to home. I sure hope you enjoyed your visit.”

“I have, thank you.”

“Well, you damn lucky they didn’t put you in that contraption and shred you for science. I guess that goes without saying. You’re the only human critter they ever turned loose, that’s some kinda good luck, hey?”

O_ received instruction on being transported back to the lake near the dance hall and soon the earthling lounged once more in the soft moonlight.

And there was C_, sitting on the rock sleepy and content in the warm air. O_ hugged the child and wept. C_ felt the heat and flimmer of adult emotions and wept. No blood was visible, through tears the child looked happy, so the protective cone must have been truly harmless. Or could there be long term effects? No time to wonder, they had been gone more than thirty minutes!

When they arrived at the barn dance hall and stood in the door music spun out on the air and the floor was covered with a whirling crowd. As O_ sought X_ among the passing faces a sharp voice struck. 

“Where have you been?”

O_ jumped. “We went to the lake and . . . “

“You missed a dance! It started. It’s going and now we can’t get in!”

“But honey, we had so much fun,” sid O_, “you must go down to the lake and see it, there’s a place by the shore on smooth rocks to relax in the moonlight. You must go!”

“And miss another dance?”

“You’ve already missed it, and some things are more important than dancing. Go! I have to put the baby down, so i’ll be busy anyway, it will only take a minute. You need to go, you must go, you’ve got to see it. Go!”

This unusual passionate assertiveness in O_ left X_ no choice. Trembling and wide-eyed, X_ turned and left the dance. O_ and the child watched as the lone parent and spouse walked into the moonlight down the path to the lake. 

Soon O_ would know if X_, who claimed to be a vegetarian, was sincere. 

End of The Bitter Half