Recoded

Recoded

There's a place that none of us kids have ever heard of before. My toes tucked in, cut off by the sandy surface of the beach. Shells, rocks, and many pebbles littered the sandy surfaces, which led to the lapping ocean reaching the shore, only to retract and try again. Dr. Jenna, much like all the adults there, wore white lab coats. Usually, she'd walk along the beaches, sometimes holding my hand as we watched the gulls fly away, flapping their angelic wings ever-so gracefully. They'd fly off to another world. At least that's how I imagined it once they coasted into the distant sky until you could no longer see them. Some of us kids would sit around and wonder where they’d disappear off to. As if something awaited them on the other side of the endless ocean. Dr. Jenna walked with me side-by-side and she'd give vague details of “recoding.” What was that? She told me about one of the kids and how they didn't act “uniform” as she called it. Somehow, he attempted to cross the waters on a makeshift raft and attempted to escape. The adults eventually caught up to him. Then, while holding my hand through the beach, she said, “He was bawling and kicking uncontrollably, he had to be recoded. He swears up and down he didn’t make the raft. Rather, someone else made it for him. Whoever it is, they’ll become recoded. And if anyone withholds information on the person, or protects them, will be recoded.”

We stopped talking when another adult, also wearing a white lab coat with black slacks. He fixed his glasses before calling to Dr. Jenna. He signaled to her, and that's when she stopped and insisted I play with the other kids. I did. I watched them talk quickly in private before they both disappeared into the building.

Now, we weren’t allowed inside. Roughly, the only time I remembered being allowed inside was when we were given snacks. We were all posted on the carpet, and if I could remember, there was—something called a fireplace. A place on fire? Yes. It was square and very small, contained by bricks, inhabited by flaming logs. We ate lunch meat sandwiches with chips and juice. It was apple juice. The lunch meat—ham and cheese. They would usually keep us nourished. There was one day, we were talking and eating, all the adults were away, another boy trotted through the sand and stopped beside me. The gaze he gave me was blank, but he then brought his gaze upon the endless ocean. It drowned out the background children talking and playing.

“You know what’s beyond here? Where the 'gulls fly off and never seem to stop beyond the ocean? I’ve always wondered what sat over on the other side.”

We would look, but only as far as the eye could see. I never knew what lies beyond the ocean, except when Dr. Jenna would read me stories about the creatures that resided at the bottom. Thinking about the octopus or squid eating us was enough to keep us out of the water. I saw one only in the books, scary monsters with long tentacles. I saw one Dr. Jenna pointed to, that pulled a ship underneath the water. One that was large enough to eclipse the sky.

“There’s nothing for you past the ocean,” Dr. Jenna walked over, gently placing her small hand on my small shoulder, her hand as gentle as the subtle breeze.

Other kids would play, chasing the Gulls across the massive beach. Dr. Jenna, while keeping a hand on my shoulder, would look back with me, a disruptive boy amongst our calm. Two doctors, one I recognized as Lansley, a doctor with my same skin complexion with glasses, a beard, and curly, short black hair as if he had neglected it for some time. The other was a short, blonde-haired girl with her hair tied into a long ponytail falling down her back. They stopped just short of the shore. A sight caught us. One to behold. A green light seemed to spill into the skies over the distance. This green light, it would show up ever so often, but yet, it still caught us by surprise when it happened. I never understood why we weren’t recoded when we saw it, but it must’ve been too much of a gorgeous sight to deprive us of. As if mimicking the river below, it shimmered in the distance skies, causing a ripple through. The blonde girl would walk towards me once they gave her freedom. Her head was cocked up to the sky.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked.

It had taken me a while to realize she was talking to me. She shot me a quick smile, then looked back at the green light.

“Yeah. It’s not the first time it’s happened, though,” I said to her.

“What? Yeah, I guess not. As far back as I can remember, that green light meant something. I’m not sure exactly what.” She said.

“Where are you from? Or, were you recoded?” I asked her.

“I must’ve been. You saw the one that was being carried off, right? The one that was kicking and screaming earlier?”

I nodded. I remembered him.

“Wasn’t he the one that tried to escape on a raft?”

“Yes,” She said, “and you know what happens when you try and escape from here.”

I nodded my head. It was much worse when they caught you. Even the slightest thought of wonder, and your memories would become reset. I remembered my first time, er, rather, I didn’t recall my first time. I knew it’d happened to me, only because Jenna said so.

***

Dinner came and went, and Dr. Jenna immediately clamped her hands softly on the edge of my chair. She leaned over and whispered: “Hey, you haven’t touched your shad roe. It’s your favorite.”

My fork poked at it as if it were unfamiliar. I kept thinking about the green light hovering over the endless ocean. Where did it lead?

“Hey,” Dr. Jenna said, fixing her glasses, “Why aren’t you eating? You hadn’t eaten since lunch. You should eat.”

“I think I’ll skip dinner. May I be excused?”

Dr. Jenna gave me a look as if I wasn’t a familiar face.

“Yes. I guess that’s fine. I’ll just let them know you’re feeling under the weather.”

I went to bed after that. In those dorms, you weren’t alone, but they were separate, so the boys slept in the boy’s dorms and vice versa for the girls. I laid down in bed that night and was well on my way to sleep. That was until she popped up again. She jarred me awake as I looked at her groggily.

“Psst! Psst! Hey, we gotta go.” The blonde-haired girl urged.

“What do you mea—”

I started to ask, but she quickly placed a hand over my mouth.

“The white coat watching my room fell asleep, and yours was called from his position for something, so we don’t have time to explain everything.”

I jumped up, barefooted in just my white shirt and underwear. We trotted out of the darkroom, making sure not to awaken any of the other kids, and stepped out into the hallways illuminated by soft, green lights. Maybe after seeing that green light in the sky, I saw everything as a green light. We were successful in our escape. I soon began to regret leaving. Quickly, we tread across the sandy beaches, with the large, rounded moon eyeing us like a giant, featureless eyeball in the sky. As she reached behind some bushes, she asked me: “How much do you remember?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Some people remember things differently than what they remember. I remember there was something known as the Mandela Effect.”

I folded my arms. She was losing me.

“The boy they dragged and recoded—that boy was you. Those recoding machines. They’re turning us kids into mindless drones. I don’t want to become that,” She said, struggling with the raft, “Come on. Help me pull this thing out.”

I quickly went to her aid as we struggled, but finally was able to get the raft out to the surface of the lapping ocean. It was tranquil, a soft breeze carried past us, but that peace was short-lived.

“What the hell are you both doing out here? We’ve been looking every for two missing kids.”

It was Dr. Jenna. She held a gun in her hands, a stabilizer. Once she used it, our muscles would tense up, and it would render us helpless.

“Jimmy, why do you want to escape, again. You do remember the first time you had to get your memory wiped, right? Of course, you don’t.”

Her face suddenly filled with regret. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh.

“Again. And again, and again, until you become a vegetable. Jim, you’re my favorite. And I hate to lose you, but I was a mother once. I’ll never see my son again.”

Dr. Jenna lowered the stabilizer.

“I didn’t find you here. You’d already escaped. Now go before they find you.”

We did just that.