The Annihilation of Foreverland

check and kept stealing glances at Reed when he got too loud. The Director never bothered to pull off his telescope while Mr. Smith waved his arms and smacked his fist. And then he was dismissed. Mr. Smith came back like a peg-legged pirate that dipped his hair in a bucket of ink.
    His cheeks were flush.
    “The Director would like a word.”

    “Reed, my boy, come here.” The Director was still hunched over the telescope when Reed approached. “You don’t want to miss this, take a look.”
    Reed hesitated. The Director stood up and stretched his back. “Well, do I need to mail you an invitation? Come on, you must see this,” he said, happily. “Nature is happening, son.”
    The Director was a large man with a scraggly beard and squinty, smiling eyes. He was wearing baggy shorts and flip-flops. Reed stopped short of the telescope, peering out the window at the back side of the island – a view rarely seen by any of the teenage campers. Rarely was one of them brought up to the Director’s office. The Investors’ living quarters hundred yards away, right on the edge of the island – the Mansion with stately palms. Beyond that was endless water.
    “Reed, unless you can stretch your eyeball out of your head, you’re going to have to bend over to see what I’m talking about.” The Director smiled. “Take a look.”
    Reed did so. Slowly. He adjusted his eye around the lens. It was focused far out into the ocean. Everything shimmered blue.
    “You see it?” the Director asked. “Don’t touch the scope, just look with your eye. Just stay open and you’ll see it.”
    There was nothing. Suddenly, there was a spray of water. A humpback whale broke the surface, its slick body rolled over and the white speckled tail slapped the water. He wanted to see it again.
    “Magnificent, right?” The Director slapped him on the back. “Nature.”
    Reed stayed perched over the telescope. Moments later, another one came up for a breath and disappeared beneath the waves, free to go as deep and as far away as it wished.
    “How many rounds have you been through, Reed?”
    Reed stood.
    The Director was at the bar near a section of plush furniture. Ice rattled in a couple of tumblers and the Director poured drinks. One with Coke, the other whiskey. He brought the Coke to Reed, handed it to him with a stiff smile, the eyes still crinkled.
    “I’ve lost count,” the Director said. “Twenty-five, would you say?”
    “Sounds a little high.”
    “Math wasn’t my strong suit, but twenty-five times you’ve been through the Haystack, Reed.” The Director took a drink and grimaced. “You like punishment?”
    “I’ve discovered my inner masochist.”
    “Well, then, how about I punch you in the face and we’ll have a ball.” He smiled wide and laughed loud. Reed joined him. They were both in on the joke for several moments, although the Director laughed a little hard.
    The Director leisurely strolled away. He swirled the glass. He stopped at a large cage behind the expansive mahogany desk. It reached up to the ceiling, inside were a pair of large white parrots. He looked up at them, said, “Why won’t you take the lucid gear, Reed?”
    “I’m not crazy about getting punched in the head with a needle.”
    “It’s not a needle, Reed. It’s lucid gear, and it doesn’t hurt, you know that. The other boys have told you so. Hell, I’m telling you.” He pointed at the neat little hole in his forehead.
    “Forgive me,” Reed said. “The needle-like lucid gear goes through the skull. It can’t feel good.”
    The ice rattled. The Director sipped, nodding. He looked over, head cocked. A grim smile. He jerked his head, signaling Reed to come over. The glass of Coke was still full, soaking in his hand. Sweat or condensation?
    Together, they watched the birds.
    “This is my island, Reed. It’s my program, my vision that happens here. These…” He waved his drink toward the Mansion. “These Investors fund it, but it’s my vision to use cutting edge technology – revolutionary ideas – to help people like you, Reed.”
    “I didn’t ask for help.”
    “Yes, you did. You just don’t know it.”
    “I don’t know much of anything, thanks to you.”
    The Director ignored the insult. “You’re a kid, Reed. You don’t know anything about life and your place in it. And it’s a damn shame to see a kid like you with so much potential just waste away to nothing. I can’t accept a world that turns its back on people