The Annihilation of Foreverland

that we assign concepts and requirements to life that create friction and chaos. If we want to heal, we start with the mind. Or at least, that’s what the Investors tell us. Who the hell knows.”
    Zin’s smile was infectious.
    “You believe that?” Danny asked.
    “Sure, why not? Don’t you see, Danny Boy, the universe is perfectly imperfect.” Zin wiggled his hands in mysterious-fashion. “There are no problems, you just think there are. And you believe what you think, and that’s why you’re here. We’re going to fix you.”
    Zin jabbed at Danny’s forehead.
    “And once you’re fixed, you get smoked. And once you’re smoke, you’re out of here.”
    Zin pointed at the cylindrical building rising up from behind the dorms. Bands of glass windows alternated with bands of metal. Five floors. One of those glass floors was where Danny woke up and walked down the hall. The top floor was black glass. At the very top was a long chimney.
    “That’s right,” Zin added. “Once you go to the Chimney, you leave the island. It’s graduation time, kind of like how they pick a new pope, when someone graduates the Chimney puffs and then it’s sayonara, baby.”
    “Where do we go?”
    “Home, I guess. Where else?”
    The thought of going home wasn’t as comforting as it should’ve been, mainly because Danny couldn’t quite remember it.
    “Come on.” Sid slung his arm around Parker’s shoulders. “Let’s have some fun before they smoke you, pal. What’d you say, huh? Old times?”
    Parker was glassy-eyed.
    “That’s the spirit. Let’s go, ya’ll.” They chucked the cards on the table and left the mess behind. “Zinski, bring the new poke. We’ll need him to take Parker’s spot on the team so let’s get him to the game room. We got a match in an hour.”
    Zin pulled Danny along. Sid walked with his arm around Parker. It didn’t look like he was going to make it unless someone kept him propped up. A cold feeling crept into Danny’s stomach. He had a feeling what happened to him.
    “What’s a poke?”
    “That means you’re a rookie, a virgin that just got popped.” Zin pointed at the round band-aid on Danny’s head. “You got poked, Danny Boy.”
    Danny touched the bandage. He felt a little guilty after Mr. Jones told him not to, then he noticed the zit on Zin’s forehead. When he first saw it, it looked like a deep blackhead. It was a little red and puffy around the edges, like maybe he was squeezing it. Is that a hole?
    A cold feeling trickled into his legs.
    Danny noticed the loner kid with the shirt over his shoulder. He was hardly a kid, looked like he was nineteen or twenty. Easily the oldest one around. An old man (there seemed to be an endless supply of them) limped toward him. There were a few words exchanged.
    “Yo, Danny Boy!” Zin was calling. “Don’t get lost on day one, hurry up!”
    Danny watched the long-haired kid follow the limping old man. Maybe he was going to get smoked.

5
    Mr. Smith didn’t talk much. Reed expected that.
    The old man limped along with a small grunt whenever he heaved his bum leg forward.
    The elevator was in the center of the first floor. The inside was curved like a big tin can. There were only buttons for four floors. Nothing for the fifth. The doors remained opened while Mr. Smith looked at the numbers and the small camera staring back. A few seconds later, they closed and the elevator made the gut-dropping rise to the top of the Chimney.
    Mr. Smith put his hand on Reed’s chest. “Wait here.”
    The elevator opened. There were no walls on the top floor. Just one big room. One section had bedroom furniture, another office furniture; there was a bar with liquor bottles. But nothing in-between.
    On the far side, by the dim windows, a large man wearing a flowery shirt was looking through an oversized telescope. Mr. Smith limped over. His words murmured across the room. The Director never looked up from the eyepiece but occasionally muttered back.
    There had been other boys that failed in the Haystack for whatever reason and they just disappeared. No graduation or farewell just poof – they were gone. Didn’t matter if they went mental or the needle lobotomized them, it was game over.
    Move on to the next contestant.
    But they had been patient with Reed. He was nineteen. He’d be twenty in a couple months. And twenty – for whatever reason – was a magic number. Poof.
    Mr. Smith didn’t look happy.
    He was trying to hold his voice in