The Shifter

There are different ways of makin’ it happen.

I mean, everyone has their way, and everyone’s way is always the right way. No one knows anythin’; I mean, if anyone does it correctly, it’s me. After all, I am the only one who can do both.

I’ve heard the stories of “before”; Gus says that he heard from Vickie, who heard from Ronald that there use to be massive containers of water called “oceans” and that this stuff called “grass” and things called “trees” used to cover the Earth and “ they were deep blues and bright greens, and…” blah, blah, blah.

Gus is dumb. What does he know anyway? It’s dirt. It’s just dirt now. All of it. As far as the eye can see and even further. Everyone knows this. The dirt is thick, too, so we’re layered in it all the time. I think at one point, humans who weren’t used to so much dirt would just kill over and die from breathin’ it in so frequently. But that doesn’t happen much anymore. And if someone does die from inhalin’ in the dirt, it’s probably for the best. Anyway, if there was anythin’ other than this dense and darkly subdued orange dirt, I ain’t never seen it.

The sun is settin’. I only know because it’s nearly impossible to see my gritty fingertips anymore. I’ve never seen the actual sun, though; it hides behind clouds of dust. I slide my goggles off for the day and curl up on my patch of dirt. My enclosure is sandwiched between dumb ol’ Gus and my best friend Henry.

Henry is nothing like Gus. He’s small but hardworking and the kind of quiet that makes you just appreciate his presence. I’m not big on the talkin’ myself, so me and Henry are a good match.

Anyway, you don’t wanna keep your eyes open too long without your goggles, so I take one more quick peek. Nothin’. Not a darn thing! I don’t see my fingers. I don’t see Henry. I don’t see the thousands of rows of enclosures that stretch out on either side of me. This is how I know it’s time for bed. One last yawn, and I shut my eyes real tight and try to get my rest; they always have us up with the sun.

The morning alarm blares so loudly and suddenly that I don’t even have time to stretch out my hands and wiggle my toes. I rub the sand from my eyes and pop my goggles onto my face, securing them tight enough to keep any new particles from blocking my vision. It’s the same thing every day. First, we’re blasted outta our sleep; next, we’re thrown some slop to chow down on, and then we have tasks for the day handed out by The Taskers and enforced by The Patrol.

The Patrol are some intense humans. They wear deep black uniforms from head to toe. They stay silent like they got their tongues ripped out or somethin’, only open their mouths to bark orders down from Command, and they do NOT mess around. If you break a rule, they break you. And not all at once either. Slowly, piece by piece, ‘til you don’t break no more rules.

Some of the shifters have learned that the hard way.

I’m a shifter, as is Henry, Gus, and all of us here in the enclosures. Once you are a year 10, you start shiftin’ for them. The collar ‘round your neck helps them keep track of your years and tasks. It gets popped on right at birth and then adjusted every year, so it doesn’t squeeze the living heck outta your neck! From year 1 to year 9, you get to live with the humans that brought you to this world. They name you and teach you how to follow orders. My humans named me Carlynne, but everyone I know just calls me Carl. Your designated humans also give you the rundown on what you’ll be doing once you reach certain task levels. Everyone in this world has a task, and as soon as you can’t complete your task anymore, it means you’re phasin’ out into the next task level. Most shifters phase out at year 16. The oldest shifter known was a year 19! I’m a year 15, but I don’t feel like I’m phasin’ out anytime soon. Not that I know what that would feel like. When I became a year 10, it didn’t feel like nothin’.

Shiftin’ doesn’t take a lot of talent. They mostly control your shift at the command center. Turn it on and off when they need you. All you gotta do is have an idea of what you want to shift into in your mind and get into your position. The Taskers come down in their shiny suits that don’t seem to collect no dust and show you a picture or give you a quick rundown first, so you know what they’re talkin’ ‘bout and what you gotta shift into.

You gotta stay focused too. If The Taskers task you with shiftin’ into a shark and you imagine somethin’ else like an eagle, then The Patrol steps in and will be on you so quick you won’t ever want to think about eagles again.

That is how I discovered I could do more than just shift. I was thinkin’ ‘bout the animal The Taskers needed me to shift into, and I got into position. I like to be low to the ground, makes me feel like I’m connecting to the Earth. Everyone else shifts standin’, but I get on my knees, lean forward, and stretch my hands as far out in front of me as I can so I can feel the grainy texture in my hands. This time, as I thought about whatever animal it was they had me thinkin’ of, I was also thinkin’ ‘bout where The Patrol might sleep, and in an instant I was in a black tent with little black mats on the floor. A sliver of light peeking through the tent door so I could see two of The Patrol sleepin’!

Gasping at what I could do I shook the thought immediately from my head and completed my task. I was so spooked I never let that happen again. I was sure The Patrol would know I was there, or Command would have seen I was off task, and I would have got the beatin’ of a lifetime. Only, nothin’ ever happened.

This was two years ago. I only ever told Henry.

“Carl! Carl, did I ever tell you about hills?” Gus blurts out, interrupting my thoughts.

I’m tryin’ to eat my mid-time meal, and the last thing I want to do is listen to Gus go on and on about his make-believe world. I don’t have the energy to tell him to “shut his mouth, or I’ll shut it for him” today.

“No, Gus.” I groan. Henry hides a chuckle. He knows this pains me.

Gus goes on and on about hills and towns and all sorts of junk. I always wonder where he gets this wild imaginary world from. Mostly I wonder so I can shut him off at the source. He talks through most of my meal, and I can’t hardly wait to get to shiftin’ again just to be rid of him.

I’m called up to my task. It’s a snake, but no snake specifically, The Tasker tells me. I’ve done so many snakes at this point, I don’t need the picture. I get into my position and start imaginin’ a rattler. Those are my favorite snakes ‘cause even though they warn ya’, they’ll still getcha!

I grin a little and imagine my rattler, only, suddenly, I’m somewhere else.

It’s so bright. Why is it so bright? I think to myself. I look down and see what looks like it could be the color green. But how? My toes are wet, yuck. What is this? Hills! Grass! The words were poppin’ into my head left and right. Oh, I’m gonna beat Gus’ butt so bad for puttin’ these crazy thoughts in my head.

Once my anger died down, I realize I just did it again. I’m waitin’ to be zapped back by The Patrol, or shut down by Command, but nothin’. I feel warm on the inside, and not from the sun either. My eyes start tinglin’, and they’re wet too. I look down from the hill and see what I assume to be a town, another one of Gus’ made-up words. As I start to walk down towards the town, I step on something hard.

Wait. I know this.

It’s a heart-shaped locket, as dusty as me.

I know this.

Instinctively I pick it up and open it. Inside is a picture of year one me and the humans who named me.

I know this. I KNOW this. I know this! I…

“Task complete, shifter,” says The Patrol.

I open my eyes, dry. The dirt never settles here.