“Q”
“No, not until I was 16. Or maybe 15.”
“Q”
“Most of what she seemed to care about was that she was really good at math, and economics. Sometimes she would tell me she had a problem, but it would always be solved within a few days. I think she still got scared when she didn’t know something, though.”
“Q”
“I don’t think I’m ‘legally required’ to answer that as you say, but I’m not a stickler for privacy. It was when I was a child, say, younger than 14, but older than 9. I woke up in the middle of the night and I cried out for my parents because I was in pain. They came out of their bedroom to check on me and I couldn’t stop sobbing in the hallway, I was truly beside myself. My arm was aching so badly and I didn’t understand why. See, normally when you’re in pain, if you move around a little, it starts to feel different, you get the blood flowing, or breath[sic] for a second, you know? But this pain was so overwhelming, not because of its intensity, but because no matter what I did, I couldn’t influence it.”
“Q”
“Yes. I always publish stuff like that, even if I’m not sure about whether or not someone will be able to figure out who the subject is. I think it’s more important for it to be shared than on the off-chance someone can put the pieces together.”
“Q”
“I don’t talk about that part of my life anymore.”
“Q”
“I struggle to see how it could possibly be relevant to anything going on now, almost 10 years out.”
“Q”
“It’s mostly just time away from the family that I can’t do. I know everyone’s done a lot of growing these last couple years, but I still hate to leave them, especially with the whole government interference business looming.”
“Q”
“You know, I don’t have to be here.”
“Q”
“It actually affects far less of my life than you might expect. I mean, maybe if I went outside more, but I pretty much only talk to people that I know already, or friends of friends. It’s a rare day for me to get along that well with a stranger, after all the changes.”
“Q”
“Twice a day, usually once in the morning and once at night, but sometimes I wake up late enough that it’s more like once in the evening and once in the morning, if you’re understanding what I find myself implying. Or also additionally after dinnertime, sometimes.”
“Q”
“That’s an easy one. I’d have to say the time we were talking and she went completely unresponsive. I mean, it was bordering on catatonic. And this was years before I found that study about how peoples' affect being flat, or generally unresponsive induces anxiety in just about any normal adult, so I was freaking out about the fact that I was freaking out, you know? I’m talking minutes of me waving hands in front of her face, calling her name, rotating the spinning chair, clapping, snapping, singing, trying to call her mom and getting voicemail, trying to look up any sort of answer, and nothing, and I'm in tears by this point, and just as I was dialing 911, she came to, and said ‘I just wanted to see how far you’d go.’
I mean, what does that even mean? She would do stuff like that all the time. It was scary, but what can you do?”
“Q”
“Let’s see, it was... about 4 years, start to finish? God, it felt so much longer.”
“Q”
“No, yes, the women’s room is down the hall and right in front.”
“Q”
“No, yeah, sure.”
“Q”
“Just give me a second to settle back in and I should be able to reconfirm some details in the ol’ memory. Okay, it’s starting to come back to me. It was back before legalization, firmly, and she left two tabs of acid in a little baggie in front of the police station with the note, ‘See me after class.’ Which I don't think even makes sense, but the cops were still pretty mad about it.
I mean, I didn’t think it was the best idea she’d ever had, but we were just kids messing around, you know? There wasn’t much else to do in our town.”
“Q”
“What? Oh my God. Do you have some kind of insider information?”
“Q”
“What the fuck. No, this can’t be happening. I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on with her.”
“Q”
“I mean, I had heard rumors in the newspapers, but nothing like this. You promise this isn’t for a gag show? It would not be wise of you to wait any longer to confess that this is, in fact, for a gag show.”
“Q”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Q”