Mind over Monsters, page 9
“I used my dad’s setup to dial the main voice and the woo-woo music back,” Ava said. “Which is when I heard what Sam and Lena heard.”
“Mostly just me,” said Sam.
“If you interrupt again, I’m going to reach over there and—” Sofie began, her braid swishing menacingly.
“Anyway,” Ava interrupted, “there are voices under the music. In all the sessions except the first one, which doesn’t have music.”
“Are they chanting?” said Sam. “I was pretty sure I heard chanting. Are they monks? Monks chant, I’ve been told.”
“I don’t know if they’re monks,” said Ava. “I guess they could be. But they aren’t legit chanting or saying anything monk-like.”
“I can’t believe we’re back to monks,” said Sofie. “I’m sorry I ever mentioned them.”
“We aren’t,” said Ava. “The voices say different things, but they’re all along the lines of ‘This program is helping you. You are becoming calm. Your fears are real, but you are becoming brave. You must do the next session. The next session will make you feel braver.’ Over and over.”
“That’s what’s making us want to keep going?” said Lena. “Some random monks telling us we want to?”
“I’m fairly certain they aren’t monks,” said Ava as Sofie mimed punching the sides of her own head.
“That’s totally unethical,” said Tom.
“What do you mean?” asked Catherine. “How is it unethical?”
“That’s subliminal suggestion,” said Tom. “When advertisers or whoever put in something you wouldn’t notice consciously, but your subconscious responds to it. It’s like brainwashing.”
“Why would they do that on an app?” said Lena. “What’s the point?”
“The point is to make you keep going,” said Tom. “You heard Call Me Barb. You buy the first part because it’s cheap, and they’re telling you the whole time that you want to keep going, so you do. The second part is more expensive. Then you’re hooked, and that makes you buy the third part, which is way more expensive.”
“Plus,” said Ava, “think about it this way. You’re super relaxed when you meditate, and your mind is clear and open, right?”
Everyone nodded.
“So people might be suggestible when they’re meditating. Like getting hypnotized or something.”
“Which makes it even more unethical,” said Tom.
“What if it tells us to quack like a duck whenever anyone says ‘Settle down, class’?” Sam asked.
“I don’t care. I really want the third part,” said Sofie. “I was going to ask for it for my birthday.”
“Same,” said Lena.
“But is that because the app is helping you?” said Ava. “Or because you just want it for some reason you can’t quite put your finger on?”
“I think it’s helping,” said Lena. She looked around at the others. “Isn’t it? I think I’ve been calmer since we started.”
“Except when we were getting the pants scared off us yesterday,” said Sofie. “I didn’t see any of us being calm then.”
“We can’t blame that on the app,” said Tom. “Can we?”
* * *
There was one more interruption before they could get to the final “Finding and Facing” session. It didn’t involve monks, at least.
Call Me Barb knocked on the door and entered the room at the same time. She’d clearly been training at the Academy of Knock-and-Barge with Lena’s mother. Lena’s mother was better at it. More confidence and finesse. Lena’s mother was the Simone Biles of the knock-and-barge. Call Me Barb wasn’t at that elite level. She was too tentative and apologetic.
“So sorry,” she said, losing a full point right there, “but I have great news! Ms. Sanchez and I think it would be wonderful if the seven of you could do a presentation Monday morning, just a quick panel discussion, on how the program has helped you. You seem so enthusiastic about it—it would be great if you could share that energy with your classmates.” She paused to get her breath but not long enough for anyone to object. “We’ll call an assembly first thing, have you talk and take questions to start off, then the whole school can do the first ‘Finding and Facing’ right there in the auditorium. We’ll have to extend homeroom, but that’s easy enough. Sound good? Awesome!” And with that, Call Me Barb de-barged.
Weren’t school counselors trained in empathy and listening? Lena wondered. Or at least reading the room? No one in the small gym thought a panel discussion in front of the whole school was “great news.” No one thought it was anything but terrible news. Owen’s face was green. Catherine was twitching like a rabbit. Sofie and Sam were going to town on cuticles and knuckles, respectively. Tom’s hand was working the back of his neck, Ava seemed to have turned to stone, and Lena was making old-fashioned sausage curls on the side of her head.
“This is what we get for being guinea pigs?” Sofie said around her thumb. “First an app brainwashes us, and then we have to speak publicly about it?”
“What are we even going to say?” moaned Catherine.
“I’m not saying anything,” Owen stated.
“Look,” said Tom, “this is obviously a nightmare, but maybe we should do the session before we deal with it. Otherwise, we’re not going to have time to finish. Maybe the session will help.”
At least Lena knew what fear she’d be facing today.
CHAPTER 23
The final session of “Finding and Facing Our Fears” involved inviting your fear out into the sunshine of the meadow, as it had last time. But once Lena and her fear were out in the meadow today, the voice atop the soothing music atop the unethical chanting urged her to turn and face her fear. Which Lena did. That’s what Finding and Facing was supposed to accomplish, after all. “Facing” was right there in the title. So Lena turned, and she faced.
The fear Lena faced was unattractive verging on revolting. It was an awkward, exam-paper-white humanoid creature with a bright red face and a long piece of toilet paper stuck to one foot. Its hands shook and its knees knocked. It was her fear of public speaking, brought into grotesque 3D form by her unhelpfully vivid imagination.
But the voice wasn’t done. It wasn’t enough to face your fear, apparently. Because now the voice had a truly laughable suggestion. It recommended that Lena thank her fear. Thank her fear? Lena didn’t have any gratitude toward her fears. But the voice was telling her to thank her fear for its service to her, for alerting her to something that may or may not be dangerous.
Lena considered her fear. It wasn’t dangerous, and neither was public speaking. She knew that. This creature seemed pretty pathetic, with its slumped posture and sweaty forehead. She felt a bit sorry for it. So, feeling stupid, she whispered, “Thank you for alerting me to my fear of public speaking. Uh… your service is appreciated.” Her face as she said this was probably as red as the creature’s.
The voice had dropped out long enough for the thanking to happen. When it came back, it said, It’s time to stand up to your fear once and for all. You’ve studied it, you’ve brought it into the light, you’ve thanked it for whatever help it has offered you. So as you stand in the meadow, facing your fear and grateful to it, adjust your stance into one of confidence and courage. Stand straight and tall, with your legs apart and your hands on your hips. Your shoulders back, your head held high. Look at your fear straight on and say, “You have no power over me. I have no need of you. You may go.”
This was more like it. Lena stood firm and tall in her mind and whispered the words to her fear.
And now, said the voice, your fear is free to go. And it will.
With that, the creature disappeared. Lena was alone in the bright meadow. Then there was more soothing music and some farewell words from the voice, and some likely desperate chanting in the background about how much Lena wanted to buy the final part, “Managing Our Monsters.” The tiny gong sounded. She gently opened her eyes, and she was done.
“Whew!” said Sam as he sat up. “That was one yoo-gly critter I came up with.”
“Same here,” said Sofie. “But it’s gone. Finding and Facing worked! I am going to beg so hard for part three my parents will be overwhelmed. The begging will be ongoing and unceasing until they give in to my demand.”
“So I guess the brainwashing part worked as well,” Ava observed.
“Like a charm,” said Tom. “Even knowing it’s a scam, I’m desperate to do part three.”
“Me too,” said Catherine. “Turns out I’m a huge sucker. What about you, Owe?”
But Owen wasn’t listening to the brainwashed Worriers. His wide-eyed attention was fixed on something else. Something crouching in the corner of the room, behind the chair Call Me Barb had used. It was hard to see, but that didn’t stop Owen from scurrying like a crab off his mat and away from it.
Lena and the others did some scurrying themselves once they saw what Owen was seeing, all the while keeping their twelve eyes on whatever it was that had joined them in the small gym. Again. Once they’d reached the back wall and couldn’t scuttle any farther, they sat and stared.
“That isn’t another one of those blobs, is it?” said Lena. “It can’t be. Sam’s mom and Call Me Barb said mass hallucinations aren’t a thing.”
“You know what is a thing, though?” Sam asked. “That. That thing over there is a thing. And I don’t think we’re imagining it, do you?”
The thing, about the size of a pug when they first noticed it, was big enough to be pushing the chair out of the corner. As they watched from their position against the wall, it unfolded itself like every werewolf in every werewolf movie ever.
But this was no werewolf. Mid-transformation werewolves were figures of beauty and grace compared with whatever this was. It rose up on two legs. Then it kicked the chair aside, and Lena let out a shriek, because who wouldn’t have?
“The blob couldn’t have kicked a chair,” Lena said.
“What’s that on its shoe?” asked Ava.
They all turned their horrified attention to the creature’s dress shoes. There was something white stuck to one of them.
“It’s toilet paper,” said Sam. “That thing has toilet paper stuck to its shoe.”
* * *
The creature was standing upright, though its cringing hunch made it hard for Lena to get a decent look at it. The toilet paper rang a recent bell. And so did its bright red face. What didn’t ring any bells, though, was…
“It’s wearing tighty-whities,” said Sofie. “It’s got underpants and shoes and socks on and nothing else.”
The creature was shuffling from one foot to another, the toilet paper tenacious in its attachment. It didn’t seem menacing, exactly, but it was still growing: It was taller than Tom, even though its posture was terrible. Lena’s mother would have prodded it between the shoulder blades and told it to stand up straight. At least its underpants were growing at the same rate as the rest of it.
“What’s it holding in its hand?” whimpered Catherine. “It looks like a gun. Please tell me that thing isn’t armed.”
“It’s not a gun,” said Sofie confidently. “It’s a microphone.”
“How can you tell?” said Catherine. “Its big, sweaty hand is covering most of it. It could be holding a gun or a knife or…”
The whole creature was shiny with sweat. There were sweat stains on its underpants that would likely haunt Lena’s nightmares for weeks.
“If I tell you how I know it’s a microphone, you have to promise not to think I’ve gone off the deep end,” Sofie began.
“Wait,” said Tom. “No matter how far off the deep end you’re about to go, I have to say something that’s worse first.”
But Tom and Sofie’s double dive into the deep end was drowned out by a hideous screeching. The creature had opened its mouth and let out a dry, croaky shriek of… anger? Despair? Hunger? It sounded like a rusty saw being dragged down a metal slide in a haunted playground.
Catherine and Owen put their hands over their ears.
“Oh no,” said Sam when the terrible noise had trailed off. “Oh no, no, no, no.”
“What?” said Sofie. “Can you just say what’s wrong without the drama? We’ve got enough drama in here.”
“Look at its tongue,” said Sam.
Lena examined the tongue, which was dangling out of the creature’s mouth now that its scream had petered out. No wonder it couldn’t enunciate.
“Its tongue is tied,” said Sam. “It’s literally tongue-tied. Know what that means?”
“That it won’t be able to tell us what it’s bleeping doing here?” asked Ava, her voice high-pitched and headed higher.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Sam. “But here goes. That thing is my fear come to life.”
“No, it isn’t!” said Sofie.
“I know it sounds stupid,” said Sam. “But—”
“It’s my fear come to life,” Sofie interrupted. “That’s how I know it’s holding a microphone.”
“It can’t be,” said Tom.
“Why? Because that’s not rational, Mr. Survey Scientist?” said Sam.
“No, it can’t be Sofie’s or your fear come to life, because it’s mine,” said Tom.
The creature seemed content at the moment to keep its distance as they argued about who was to blame for its existence. It was tapping its microphone, as if asking, Is this thing on?
“Okay, here’s a survey question,” said Lena. “How many of us had public speaking as our fear this morning?”
Everyone except Owen raised their hand.
“Really, Owen?” said Catherine.
“I’m not talking at any assembly,” said Owen.
“That thing is our collective fear come to life,” said Lena. “The toilet paper is mine.”
“And the microphone is mine, obviously,” said Sofie.
“The tied tongue is mine,” said Sam.
“I’m responsible for the flop sweat,” said Tom.
Ava raised a hand reluctantly. “Underpants. What?” she said. “You’re supposed to picture the audience in their underwear when you’re nervous about speaking.”
“The audience,” said Sam. “Not yourself.”
“That thing is not myself,” said Ava.
“But it doesn’t make sense that the fear is wearing the underpants,” Sam persisted.
“That’s what you’re objecting to here?” Sofie asked. “Ava’s underpants?”
“Those are not my underpants!” said Ava.
“Um, people?” said Lena. “Not a good time for this. It’s moving.”
CHAPTER 24
The creature paced back and forth, as if working up the courage to do… something. Something to them? Something at them? Lena didn’t want to find out.
“It’s got to be a mass hallucination,” said Tom. “At least if you google ‘mass hallucination,’ results come up. There’s not even a fringe online argument that fears can come to life. They don’t. They just don’t.”
“Does it matter?” asked Sam. “I mean, there it is. We all see it. Does it matter if it’s a fear or a hallucination or a mutant that sprang from unwashed gym clothes if it’s right in front of us?”
“No one said anything about mutant gym clothes,” said Sofie. “That’s not one of our working theories. But thanks very much for putting it in my head.”
“If it’s a hallucination, shouldn’t it go away if we ignore it?” asked Ava.
“It’s worth a try,” said Tom. “Let’s turn our backs on it and think about something else. For a count of ten.”
They turned to face the wall.
Lena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pictured herself sitting in the woods behind her house instead of pushed up against a wall with a sweaty creature pacing a few yards away. And was it coughing? Clearing its throat? Lena ignored as hard as she could. She put her hands over her ears. When the count of ten was over, she opened her eyes (though not gently), removed her hands from her ears, and turned around. All was quiet. The creature was gone.
“It worked!” said Sam. “It was a hallucination. I knew it!”
“You’re the one whose research paper, in which notes are cited, debunks mass hallucination,” Sofie pointed out.
“I made that paper up,” said Sam. “I did no actual debunking.”
“It still could have been our fear,” said Lena. “My mom says if you ignore fear, it will go away. Maybe she’s right.”
But Lena’s mom was not right.
“Uh,” Catherine squeaked quietly and urgently. “Whatever it is, it’s sitting next to me. I can smell its breath.”
Six heads turned reluctantly toward Catherine, last in the row of Worriers. Sure enough, the creature was sitting next to her. It had its legs pulled up and its head resting against the wall, as if it were mimicking them.
Catherine pointed her chin urgently leftward, and the others scooted in that direction so she could put some distance between herself and the creature. It didn’t appear to take offense.
“What did its breath smell like?” Sam asked.
“Saltines, maybe?”
“That’s not so bad.”
“So, operating on the theory that it’s our collective fear come to life, even though that is one hundred percent impossible, what do we do?” said Tom.
“We’ve been training for this all week,” said Lena. “It’s out in the open. So… aren’t we supposed to thank it next?”
“That part of the session was stupid,” said Sam. “I am not thanking that for anything. I say we run. Get out and leave it in here. If it’s our fear, shouldn’t it go away if we’re not around?”
“I agree,” said Sofie.
“And if Sofie agrees with me…,” Sam began. He left the rest hanging because everyone knew what it meant if Sam and Sofie agreed.
They looked at Lena expectantly.
“Seriously?” she said. “I have to be the one to say it?”
“You’re the commander,” said Ava.
“We can argue about that later,” said Lena. “For now, let’s stand up slowly and get ready to run…. On three. Okay?”
