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Creative Writing: The Adirondack

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August lifts the virtual reality helmet off his head. “Your turn,” he says, handing it to me. “All right,” I agree, hesitantly. “What’s going to happen when I turn it on?” August turns a dial. “I set it to take you to the next resistance frequency we can pick up. Basically you should have the sensation that you’re inside a resistance website.” “Where did you just go?” Zekeal asks August. “I was attending a meeting of resisters in Canada. They were all talking in French. I had no idea what they were saying.” He laughs. “It was kind of final level, anyway. They were all so excited.” I glance at Mfumbe for reassurance. My eyes ask him if I should try it, and he nods. I place the helmet on my head. What am I getting myself into? I’m intrigued,…show more content…
I remember that my father had maps of the Adirondacks at the time he died. My mother had thought he was planning a vacation. I’m not sure now. My father hated the bar code, so maybe he was trying to find resistance groups that had a hatred just like his own. “Why would resisters go the Adirondacks?” I ask. “It’s easy to hide up in the mountains,” Mfumbe explains, “and they’re close to Canada. If things really went downhill, you could travel into Canada in a day. Canada doesn’t have the bar code yet.” “Yeah, but these numbers are new. It’s a site we’ve never been to before,” August says. He looks at me. “What exactly did you see?” I describe the location and the woman. I describe the multicolored feathers in her hat, and the way she seemed so at peace with the world around her; I described the mountains that seemed to stretch forever. “I’ve heard about Eutonah. She’s a Cherokee shaman and a bar code resister,” Allyson says. “She was putting out articles warning against the bar code when it was still in Asia. There’s a mystical angle to everything she writes. The article I read was about how you can resist the bar code with your mind.” “How do you do that?” Nedra asks, clearly…show more content…
“I’m not sure if I even believe you. I’ve never seen one of them.” Allyson sighs. I, myself, am exasperated by Nedra’s stupidity. “That’s the point, Nedra. You’re not supposed to see them.” “I don’t believe it,” Nedra says. “I can give you the space if you want it,” August tells Allyson. “I want it,” Allyson agrees as she places the helmet back into the case. Zekeal stands. “I better head home. We can continue this conversation at the next meeting. “Me, too,” Mfumbe agrees, folding his chair. I stand up and fold my chair as well, heading for the door. The glowing light from the bare bulb guides us out of the warehouse until August shuts it off with a remote clicker from the door. Our group walks together past the clubs. Nedra heads for a sleek, silver sports car. “Are you coming, Zeke?” she asks. “Yeah, sure,” he says with a quick wave to me. I wave back. Behind Nedra, August and Allyson step into August’s beat-up 2010 magnetic Honda, one of the first of its kind ever made. “I can drop you off,” Mfumbe offers to me. “Thanks, but I’ll walk. I don’t live far.” I wanted to walk along the river and think about everything that I saw during the meeting today. “You sure?” Mfumbe checks. I nod. “Yeah.
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