Patreon May Exclusive - "Conditioned" - Part 3

Eighteen-year-old Steve goes through to the living room, to find his fifteen-year-old sister on the ground working with Mom on a puzzle designed to challenge preschoolers.

“Where’s the kitty’s tail at?” Mom asks her daughter. The puzzle piece is obvious, and yet Brooke is delighted to find it, smacking it with her palm. “I got it, Mommy!”

“You sure did, clever girl. Now, see if it fits.”

Steve looks over the pair, pillow in front of his remaining hardness. His sister isn’t wearing pajamas anymore, but her outfit is still rainbow-themed, and her hair is arranged in a pair of high pigtails.

“Mom,” Steve says. His voice feels strange, too deep, and then he understands that his voice is just fine. For a big boy. For practically a grown-up.

“Ready to do your spelling words?” Mom asks, and then she looks up. “Steve,” she says, her tone less stern than bemused, “Why did you bring your pillow? You’re still in your jammies.” She laughs. “Planning on taking a nap in here?”

“I have a question,” he says.

“It’s okay if you get some wrong,” Mom says. She smiles at him. “What does Daddy say about mistakes?”

“’Progress, not perfection,’” says Steve. He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not about the spelling. It’s something big.”

Mom pats the ground beside her, and Steve sits down, resting the pillow on his lap.

She strokes his hair and says, “What is it, honey?”

Steve looks at his mother, and he realizes with embarrassment that the question has completely slipped his mind. He looks down at the pillow. It was something about that. He frowns. But what? And that’s when he notices the music playing. The same music that was playing at breakfast time…the same music that’s playing all the time.

The music’s coming from the pillow, which strikes Steve first as odd, and then as perfectly normal. The music comes from everywhere, it’s all over the house. Of course it is. He glances over at the smart speaker on the coffee table, which is playing the exact same song.

He could ask about the music, but why would he? There’s nothing wrong with the music. It’s their favorite tune, which is why they listen to it all the time. It’s good music for good boys and girls. It’s why they don’t go to public school, so they can listen to their special song…well, that’s one of the reasons. That and freedom. And Jesus. And because Mommy’s such a good teacher.

“Stevie?” Mommy asks. She puts a finger under his chin. “You okay, honey?”

“Mommy…” Steve begins. He hugs the pillow against his chest like a teddy bear. A scrap of his question bubbles to the front of his mind. “Mommy, were we different before? Were we different people?”

He blushes. It’s a crazy question. It’s barely a question at all.

His mother puts an arm around his shoulders. “Before you were born, you mean?”

Steve shrugs, suddenly miserable. He can’t explain the way he’s feeling, or why he’s asking such silly questions.

“Have you been looking at websites?” Mommy asks softly. She looks at him intently. “Remember, all you need is the class webpage.”

Steve shakes his head, innocent. “I haven’t been looking, Mommy.”

His mother smiles. “I know, Stevie, you’re a good boy.” She gives him a squeeze. “We just get one life, honey. You’ve always been Steve, and Brooke’s always been Brooke.” She gives the girl an indulgent smile. “You work on the puppy puzzle now, sweetie.”

She looks back at Steve. “We get one life, and then if we’re good, we go to Heaven.  Some people think different, but they’re wrong. Past lives aren’t real, they’re made-up.” She pokes his side playfully. “Just like those dinosaurs you like so much.”

Steve giggles, reassured, and for a moment he’s jealous of Brooke. All she has to do is play with puzzles and paint pictures. She doesn’t have to worry about spelling words and subtraction. She doesn’t come up with strange questions.

“Now,” Mommy says, “You gonna go get dressed, or do you need me to help you?”

Steve jumps to his feet. “I’ll do it,” he says quickly. Because he’s not a baby like Brooke, and the thought of Mommy treating him like one makes him blush for a second time.

“Five minutes,” Mommy says, tapping her smart watch. “Then I’ll come test your spelling words, okay?”

He nods, starts walking, only for Mommy to call after him, “Don’t forget your pillow!” He turns to catch her throw, grinning. And then he returns to his bedroom. He can do the words.

Such, clean, deep, happy, smile,

Besides, it’s progress, not perfection. There’s really nothing to worry about.

To be continued...