The Fantasies of Your Future

A Short Story

By Emma Harvey

“Hey, um, whatcha say yer name was?” The boy asked.

“Addison Belle George. But everybody calls me Addy.”

“Right, sorry.” Sitting on the carpet, the two children sat among a scattering of toys in the living room.

The house, composed only of two rooms, was hardly more than a capsule. A few chairs and a television set identified the first thin rectangular room. It was attached to another, with two small beds entrenched in the walls like bunks. This was the room where their two pairs of parents had become acquainted. Their rancorous laughter and chattering had ripped through the confined living space.

“How’re ya likin’ it here, Miss Addy?” The boy, sitting back on his heels, peered at his companion. A shining silver headband pulled back her soft curls. She knelt carefully, as her simple dress necessitated, on the neon green carpet. She was silent. Her fingers found a thread sticking out from the carpet. She pulled it out and spun it around her finger. The boy peered curiously at her softly rounded fingernails.

“I dunno.” She took a shuddering breath. “Our room’s real small.”

“That’s just ‘cause this station is packed to the gills with people. That’s what my Papa said. He said there’s a lotta people livin’ up here in space these days so each station’s tryin’ real hard to stuff ‘em all in!”

Addy shrugged, picking up a doll from the mess around her. She brushed the doll’s hair back from its face. “I miss my animals an’ my garden.” She stared at her doll. It smiled back at her, lips curled up and eyes squinted in contentment. Addy’s lip trembled. “There’s nothing good about bein’ here. I don’t wanna live in space!” She blurted. “There’s no sunlight like back at home an’ there’s no schoolhouse an’ there’s no grasses an’ there’s big an’ loud people all over! There’s nothin’ good here and nothin’ pretty here. I don’t wanna live here!”

“You get used to it.”

Addy crossed her arms, her doll tumbling to the carpet. “No, I won’t.” She pouted. The boy giggled. “What?!” Addy cried.

“Your daddy told my daddy that peoples livin’ in space is unnatural as a goose-headed deer yesterday. And that would be a silly-lookin’ animal is all.”

Addy gracefully picked up her doll and tucked it thoughtfully under a doll-sized pink blanket. She adjusted her hair and straightened her silver skirt. The boy watched for a few moments before he gasped, as if he had just comprehended what she had said a few moments before. “Ya mean ya don’t like space at all?”

Addy shook her head.

“Well, I think I know just the place for ya! Ya said ya missed yer gardens, but there are gardens here too. An’ it’s not like full o’ flowers n’ such, but I reckon it’s much better than yer garden at home. Come on!” Lightning-fast, the boy snatched Addy’s hand and dashed to the sliding door.

Addy halted. “Wait- um, what’s yer name?”

“Grady-Buck. Grady-Buck Williams.”

“We can’t jus’ leave, Grady! My mama’s gonna worry. Lemme go!” Addy squirmed under the boy’s grip, and he let her go.

“Come on, we’ll be faster than green grass through a goose. Our folks won’t even realize we left until we’re back!” Grady-Buck smiled at Addy. She bit her lip, glancing back over her shoulder to where her mother and father spoke with the Williams’. She figured she would like to see the gardens… But what if they got caught?

“…Okay. Only if it ain’t far from ‘ere.”

“I remember where it is. Come on!”

Silently, the children slipped out the door. They stepped into the cramped hall. The ceiling reached only slightly over six feet, and the passage was wide enough for only two streams of traffic. The carpet muffled their urgent whispers and the knocking of two sets of small feet.

“The elevator’s close to our apartments. It should be right around the corner. See! I told ya I knowed where I was goin’!”

Addy remained silent as the children slid inside the elevator. After pressing a button, they swiftly descended. Addy wrung her hands, staring down at them in apprehension.

Grady-Buck took notice and beamed at her as the elevator shuddered to a stop. “Don’t be scared, Miss Addy. It’s gonna be fun.”

Addy shook her head. “No, I don’t like space. I don’t like livin’ on a station.” The doors slid apart, and the children stepped out into a larger corridor. Several housing unit elevators were lined up against one wall. The room spilled over into yet another hallway. Adults with their long legs created a forest of bodies which they dove into. They weaved swishing calves and dodged bouncing knees.

“How old are ya, anyway?” Grady-Buck raised his voice to be heard above the clamor of grown-up conversation.

“Eight and a half.”

“Eight? Oh, wow. I thought you was younger’n me, ya sure are real tiny. I’m seven but I guess it’s still okay for us to be friends. I mean, if ya think it’s a’right.” He turned away from her, his ears flushing a dark pink.

“Yeah. It’s okay.” Addy smiled to herself, keeping her eyes trained on her guide and companion.

At last, the children emerged into a much greater space. Shops, restaurants, and entertainment centers lined the walls in a design similar to the malls and airports Earth used to have. Three or four floors with crisscrossing walkways loomed over where Grady-Buck and Addy stood. Above that, there was a high vaulted ceiling. Bright, neon signs shouted at them from the shops. “Free Tax Consultation” and “Virtual Romantic Experiences” the placards declared. Benches and plants decorated the centers of the hall, an occasional fountain among them.

People twisted in and out of the passageways and halls in graceful streams. The young and the old, families and businessmen, slow-walkers and sprinters, all poured into the wide-open space. The aroma of chatter drifted into every ear creating a diverse stench of languages, pitches, and accents.

“Now, we just gotta find the restaurant, the one with the giant fish picture, an’ that’ll bring us to this big open area. I saw so many people there, an’ there was other restaurants an’ shops an’ places to play games an’ the area for the scientists. Ya know, the NASA guys who make sure we don’t die.” Grady-Buck laughed. Addy bit her lip, careful to keep her companion within sight as he climbed onto a bench, scanning the shops and their glowing signs above the dozens of bouncing heads.

“I see a big fish picture over there,” she said.

“Where?”

Addy pointed, “There!”

“Oh, yeah! Thas’ the one! Come on!” Grady-Buck leapt to the floor. Addy followed, running to keep him within sight. The children weaved through the crowd like fresh rainwater weaving between chipped, aged bricks. Both young children and young streams are flexible, adaptive, and unstoppable when carving their path, even in the most unfamiliar and surprising places.

The boy halted at the restaurant’s entrance. Addy stumbled as she stopped behind him. “Woah, there’s a lotta people ‘ere. Take my hand, we don’ wanna get separated. My papa says that if I got separated from him ‘round ‘ere I’d end up halfway to China.”

Addy blinked, “Where’s China?”

“I dunno, but it’s a place on Earth.”

She took his hand, and the two stepped inside. It was quieter there. The restaurant’s tables and chairs sat atop a lofted “second floor” of sorts. The customers’ tables were enclosed by soundproof booths for privacy, with one window at head height against each side. The cooks and waiters bustling underneath them shared the “first floor” with a series of doors that decorated the walls. Inside were smaller booths for those who dined alone.

Grady-Buck glanced at Addy as the two carefully maneuvered their way past blazing stovetops and hustling waitresses. The dissonant symphony of various dishes assailed them as burned, fried, slathered, and sauced foods were distributed. Pulling his friend behind him, Grady-Buck marched through the counters and crowds. “Why don’t ya talk more? Yer as silent as the barn cat’s mouse.”

“I dunno.” Addy bit her lip, squeezing Grady-Buck’s hand. She stared up at the customers on the loft, her head tilting back. “I don’t like this.” She pulled him to her.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll see!” The two slid out the restaurant’s back door and into the station’s grand hub.

“I don’t know. We’ve been gone a long time an-” Addy halted, the air torn from her lungs as she gasped. “Woah!” The two children were stiff as statues, wide eyes gleaming across the sight before them. Storefronts, designed to resemble city buildings, stretched hundreds of feet above their small heads. Though entrenched in the walls, each one sparkled proudly. They were decorated with windows, crafted with smooth walls, and shone in colors of every glistening shade. “Sidewalks” sat beside the black tile floor where streetlights exactly like Earth’s illuminated the massive room. The tile streets were buzzing with human activity and voices.

“It’s great, ain’t it?”

“It looks like a city! Ya know, but with no cars.” Addy marveled at the indoor urban setting around her. She admired the awesome ocean of life embracing her: voices, smells, music, lights, and bodies.

“Ya think that’s neat? C’mere.” Grady-Buck ran, pulling his companion along by their clasped hands. They stopped in the center of the blue sea of holograms and humans. Addy pondered what he could possibly show her in the middle of a crowd. “Look up to the ceiling.”

She did. She gasped.

Crowning the head of the buzzing hub sat a half-cylinder of glass that stretched across the entirety of the city. Behind that glass? The heavens.

The ceiling was painted in glittering stars, planets, comets, asteroids, and swirling nebulas in a display of perfect, breathtaking artistry that human hands could never create.

“That’s so many stars! And the colors! It’s jus’ like a Georgia sunset!” Gaping at God’s pure art above her, she couldn’t breathe.

“That’s a nebula.” Grady answered, pulling his hand from hers to point up to the vast orange and blue sphere which swallowed up a large fraction of the station’s sky. “And that planet right there, that’s the one we orbit: Trappist E.”

“It’s as beautiful as a racehorse at a pig show.” Grady-Buck grinned, his friend’s enthusiasm reigniting the passion in his chest. “I didn’t know space had so many colors!” She marveled. “I thought it was jus’ stars n’ blackness but it’s real pretty.” Addy re-claimed Grady-Buck’s hand, certain that if she didn’t hold on tight, she’d evaporate right into the ravishing image before her.

“This is why I like it up ‘ere in the station. When I get bigger, I wanna help them NASA guys. I’m gonna join them on Trappist right ‘ere!” The boy faced Addy, teeth and eyes gleaming. He pulled her hand to his chest, taking it in both of his. “And you can come too! I’ll bring ya with me to explore all the planets. I’m sure the other scientist guys won’t mind, yer real pretty an’ all, an’ we’ll all be friends and go flyin’ thorough space together every day. Maybe we’ll get to meet some aliens too! I’d love to be friends with an alien!” Addy continued to gaze upon the vastness before her, captivated.

“Grady?” Trance-like, she spoke as if she were lovestruck, blinded by her lover’s attractive fantasies of freedom and the future.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna be okay here. It’s still weird but… well, there’s pretty things, an’ there’s still good things,” she smiled and briefly tore her gaze from the vaulted sky above her, “Like you.” Taking a deep breath, Addy returned her gaze to the heavens. “I’ll get used to it. And I don’ need to see the gardens. This is better.” Grady-Buck stared down at his fingers entwined with his friend’s.

“Yeah, yer right.” He gazed spaceward, ignorant to the barrage of frantic footsteps and barking, anxious voices that approached the children. “This is better’n anything.”