The Girl with the Kaleidoscope Glasses
Eleanor looked out of her window to a darkened sky; the sun was concealed behind dense clouds, and it appeared as a false night. Skyscrapers twisted in the clouds, reaching into the heavens. At first, the rumble overhead seemed like thunder, but when she saw the jet’s pointy cockpit her heart palpitated with fear.
The building’s mirrored walls revealed the jet’s reflection; it took on another form — a black creature with crooked wings, a long pointy beak, and sharp claws. She turned away in terror from the silhouette.
Eleanor turned to the glasses on a table near her keyboard. The glasses had a thick black frame and there was a strange glimmer of gold and green in the lens. When she held the glasses to the light, purples and blues shimmered melding into one another: a kaleidoscope of color.
Eleanor put them on and craned her neck towards the sky. It appeared bright blue and a pigeon with vast wings flew overhead. But when she took off the glasses, she saw the world as it really was, with a gloomy sky.
At the thought of tomorrow, a nervous feeling twinged in her stomach.
Would life be any different or would it all be the same? she thought.
She had felt lonely in the last year, she had seen few people. But she had felt lonely long before that.
She placed the glasses back on the table.
The furnishings in her apartment were simple, four tall black chairs and a tiny table. Around them, however, were dirty socks on the floor, piles of washed clothing clumped on a chair to be sorted, a kitchen with a sink full of dirty dishes, and an unmade bed. She promised herself she would clean it all tomorrow.
Magnolia tree images projected on the high walls, and on the ceiling there were images of moving clouds. She could change the images to suit her mood.
She sat behind a control panel that manipulated the projections. One high wall was divided into several squares, cluttered with virtual activity: projected areas dedicated to study, work, literature, and creativity. Her whole life covered the entire wall.
She wanted to share her world with someone.
Most people are too busy with their own lives though, she thought.
She pressed a key on the control panel. A calendar opened with tomorrow’s date highlighted. The nervous feeling inside her was replaced with a hint of hope:
July 5, 20 — Immunity.
***
Three months earlier
Eleanor’s mask was tightly fitted on her face, as she descended the stairs to collect the food delivered to her once a week. The food was left in a trolley in her apartment building. She was glad the foyer was empty when she picked it up. She took the elevator up, alone.
She disinfected everything before putting it away, listening to the news headlines.
THE NEW, DEADLIER VARIENT OF THE EPSILON STRAIN OF THE VIRUS KILLS ONE THOUSAND IN A DAY.
Eleanor felt a sudden unease.
The gardens would be empty of people at such an early hour, perhaps it would subside my anxiety if I sat by the lake.
She put her kaleidoscope glasses in her pocket and crept down the stairs. She exited the building and ran through the dense mist across the bridge to the gardens. The garden path was decorated with two marble sculptures with missing noses and partial ears, corroded over time. The trunks of the trees had grown in an odd manner, leaning to the side and their bare, crooked branches grew larger, higher, reaching for something unknown.
Eleanor’s shoes sunk in the mud as she made her way to the lake. The water was brown and filled with decaying leaves. A scrawny black swan let out a sad cry. The swan’s reflection in the lake was faint, but it looked like a creature with large flapping ears and a long trunk. She grabbed the kaleidoscope glasses from her pocket.
When the glasses framed her eyes, the trees appeared with long steady trunks covered with vibrant green leaves, golden daffodils lined the path and lush green grass cushioned her feet. The swan now glided on a glimmering lake that reflected its long, graceful neck and its black shiny feathers. The ill-formed shadows had disappeared.
At sounds of chatter near the entrance of the garden, Eleanor removed the kaleidoscope glasses. The garden’s bare trees and the black clouds returned.
When she went back to her apartment, a little magenta light on her control panel indicated a new message in her inbox. She pressed a button and a message from her friend Renece projected on the wall. It included a photo of an unusually large mushroom with a tall, thin stem and a large red cap with white spots. And underneath: I hope you’re alright, dear.
Eleanor felt joy, she hadn’t heard from a friend for a while. She remembered the last time she had seen Renece, it was before the world changed. Eleanor fell into a reverie.
In a dimly lit, crowded venue, tangerine circles swirled around the walls. A singer imitating the lyrical voice of Jim Morrison, was singing one of her favorite songs ‘Strange Days’. She liked sixties music and had followed The Doors cover band whenever they performed.
A tall woman with a blonde wig, large blue earrings and a short skirt that revealed athletic legs, danced opposite her. Eleanor often thought Renece dressed better than most genetic females.
Eleanor’s face beamed as she sang along to the music. Renece didn’t know the lyrics, but she repeated the words as she danced.
The buzz of a reminder tone for an online counseling session, broke Eleanor’s reverie.
***
Eleanor lay in her bed that night staring dreamily at the projections on her bedroom ceiling. The projected cumulus clouds seemed like white fluffy candy, fairy floss floating through an azure sky. She listened to a compilation of The Doors’ songs, and it reminded her of more good times she had dancing with friends.
Eleanor hadn’t seen anyone for eight months. She wondered if she could meet Renece, but she lived so far away. She thought of a few friends who lived nearby, and got out of bed to send them messages, she couldn’t wait till morning.
Eleanor: Would you like to come to the city park to meet me? It will be safer to meet early in the morning to avoid the crowds.
The next day, she read their replies.
Brenda: No, I want to sleep in.
Anita: I’m too lazy to get up that early.
Clara: I don’t think I can see you till there’s a vaccine.
Eleanor felt heartbroken. A deep sadness passed through her as she knew they were meeting with others. They don’t care about me.
But there was one final message she hadn’t read.
Matthew: I’ll come.
Eleanor’s eyes lit up.
As Eleanor stepped into the garden the following day, the trees’ branches looked wilted and the cracks in their trunks seeped a thick liquid. The diseased roots had escaped above-ground from the infected soil. Two men exited the gardens carrying large garden sprayers.
Footsteps trod the path behind her, and she turned around, thinking it might have been Matthew. It was a man unknown to her, walking around without a mask; a black mist crawled from his mouth. She turned away from him.
People passed each other on a narrow path in the garden and the black mist crawled from one person’s mouth and entered the other’s.
Eleanor sat down in a secluded place and inspected her hands. Tiny black particles crawled up her long fingers; she must have touched a contaminated surface. Her hands shook as she reached for a disinfectant wipe from her bag.
It was half past the hour. Matthew may be running late. Perhaps he had slept in; she would wait for him.
She waited for two hours — but he didn’t come.
***
Eleanor held back tears as she sat through her online poetry class — Matthew hadn’t even called to tell her why he hadn’t turned up.
The lecturer’s round face was projected in the centre of the wall while she read a poem; and faces of students framed the edge.
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air.
– Byron
“Byron’s poem is apocalyptic, the sun has been extinguished and the world is set into darkness,” said the lecturer. “What are the different reactions that people have to a world without a sun?”
“People are filled with despair,” said one student.
“They start burning everything to create light,” said another student.
Eleanor’s palms perspired as she summoned the courage to speak. “They turn against one another instead of working together.”
“It’s a disadvantage to them,” said the lecturer. “Does it remind anyone of what is presently happening in the world?”
“Yes, the virus has divided people,” said a student.
“People have different ideas about the way the virus should be handled,” said another student.
Eleanor felt her heart beating strongly, but spoke, “I think the world should change, come up with different ways to do things to suit the circumstances. I don’t think they should stick to things they were doing before the virus. None of it is working.”
“Eleanor, it sounds like you want a new world. What sort of world do you want?”
“Something more human, more natural. Less corporate, less shallow,” said Eleanor.
“You want a utopia.” The teacher smiled. “Perhaps that’s what Byron wanted too. The poem is also about equality amongst the human race. Once everything superficial is taken away and all material things are gone — we’re all the same. It becomes about survival.”
***
That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures.
– Wordsworth
Eleanor began to think she wasn’t important to anyone. Everyone had their own priorities: family, partners, children or spending time with their pets. But she was no one’s priority. There was only one person who had really loved her well — her mother. But she had died years ago. Eleanor searched her drawer and found the golden watch she had inherited from her mother, its hands glinted in the light. She placed it by her bedside where she could see it first thing every morning. It would remind her, that she too was loved by someone.
As she walked to the living room, she heard a tone alerting her of the latest news headline. She hit a key on the control panel and the first headline was revealed.
HUMANITY’S FALL FROM GRACE
Images of crowded beaches, no one at a distance from one another and people with narrow gaunt faces and blank stares. A woman raising a latte with polished nails to her painted lips and her mask dangling below her chin. A black mist escaping from her mouth.
Eleanor pressed a key for today’s overseas headlines:
OVER 1.63 MILLION PEOPLE AFFECTED BY FLOOD IN NORTHERN CHINA, 1700 HOMES COLLAPSED.
Eleanor was horrified at the images of violent waves and destroyed houses. The people’s long stilt-like arms reaching for aid and the terror in their eyes.
CALIFORNIA BATTLES THREE HUNDRED KNOWN FIRES, TWO MILLION ACRES BURNING ACROSS THE STATE.
Thin branches stretched for the clouds to escape their fate, but the unruly fire filled the air with ash.
EIGHTY-FIVE PEOPLE KILLED AND HUNDREDS INJURED IN A BOMBING IN ASIA.
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears at the images of people crying over carnage on the ground. Blood covered bodies were carried away from the blast and people were scrambling to get the injured to hospital.
She grabbed her kaleidoscope glasses again. Through the glasses she saw the people standing side by side in harmony. There was no blood shed. They were stronger together.
***
Eleanor woke the next morning to the sound of police sirens outside. She rushed to the window. Helicopters filled the sky. The reflections of the helicopters on the mirrored walls of the buildings appeared as creatures with eight tentacles that waved above their egg-shaped heads and strong beak-like jaws. Angry yelling crowds had amassed a street away. People were protesting the restrictions the government had placed on them, that prevented the virus from spreading. Eleanor covered her ears and shook her head – she knew there would be violence. She lay on the couch for hours, with a heavy mind.
Eleanor eventually drifted to sleep after the angry voices subsided and didn’t get up till the
sound of heavy rain battered the windows and woke her. She tightened her mask and went downstairs to check the mail.
Her mailbox was empty, but on the ground was a ripped package with her name on it. Another theft. This was the second time her mailbox had been robbed in the last month.
When she returned to her apartment, Matthew had sent her a message apologizing that he had slept in on the day they were to meet in the gardens.
If only I had one person that I could rely on, she thought.
The control panel vibrated, and a little red light indicated an incoming call. With a hit of a key, she answered.
“Hello.”
“Hello sweetie, how are you?” asked Renece.
“I got robbed again!”
“I hope the police catch them this time,” she said. “Did you meet up with Matthew in the gardens?”
Eleanor sighed. “No, he didn’t show up.”
“Would you like me to come to see you?”
“It would take you an hour to drive to the city. It’s too far,” said Eleanor. “If I could drive, I would come to you.”
“It’s my decision – I want to come. We can meet early in the gardens.”
Eleanor felt a spark of joy.
***
Eleanor hoped it wouldn’t rain as the dark clouds hastened through the sky, the weather had been bleaker than usual. As she made her way to the gardens, a swarm of bugs headed for the lake where the scrawny swan hissed as the bugs took to the water.
She wondered if Brett or Renece would show up today. She loved both sides of her friend. Not long after, Renece approached with a blond wig, warm eyes and a black mask. They stood at a distance from one another.
“I’m excited to see you,” said Eleanor.
“I’m happy to see you too,” said Renece. Her gaze darted around the garden. “What did you call this garden?”
“Eden,” said Eleanor.
“Why?”
“Well, I think people only need simple things to be happy – food, shelter, a person to talk to and a garden,” said Eleanor.
“But we’re in a society that tells us to want more,” said Renece. “The whole world currently has a lot wrong with it.”
Eleanor took out her kaleidoscope glasses and put them on. The sun shone, the sky was a bright azure, the blooming flowers gigantic as they normally were during springtime. But Renece looked the same.
“You have new colorful glasses,” said Renece. “Where did you get them?”
“I bought them online from a mystic shop,” said Eleanor. “The world has gone mad, but I see a beautiful world through my kaleidoscope glasses.”
Renece laughed. “You’re a treasure.”
Eleanor’s face beamed, she felt someone cared for her.
***
Christmas is around the corner, and even as virus numbers have doubled, thousands of shoppers are still expected to hit the stores. It’s the most wonderful time of the year for bargain hunters.
Eleanor’s eyes widened as she read the advertisement. She fell into a strange reverie.
The skies were brown, and she headed towards a large sign that read: Shallow Lands.
A man with a long leather gown that covered him from head to toe, with a beak-like mask approached. His claw reached out to her.
“Come this way,” he beckoned.
Eleanor followed him into a tall building with high ceilings and rows of shelves filled with items of no real value. Photos of women with sparkly gowns on boney figures covered the walls. The salesladies behind the counter had no facial features, their strangely long arms and fingers stretched to Eleanor, tempting her with glittery things. Customers plodded towards the counter with their trance like stares.
But the man with the long leather gown and beak-like mask followed closely behind Eleanor.
The control panel vibrated, and she broke from her reverie. The little red light emerged, and she hit the key. It was her cousin.
“Hello Eleanor,” he said with a somber tone.
“Hi Jessie, how are you?”
He was momentarily silent and then spoke. “One of my friends has caught the virus.”
“That’s awful.”
“His whole family is on ventilators.” His voice shook.
“I thought the virus hadn’t spread to the country towns.”
“It’s in every shop and every school.”
Eleanor remembered her tears the first time she realized the virus was serious; she was at her cousin’s house, visiting him after he had an operation. The images on the news that day had shown empty supermarket shelves. Soon after, they closed the borders between the states and she wasn’t allowed to visit her cousin.
At that moment, I knew I had to change; I could no longer be who I was. Most of what I knew I had to let go of, she thought. Her cousin’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“They found a case of the virus in my son’s school; we all have to get tested.”
Eleanor exhaled loudly. When she finally spoke, her voice held a hint of anger.
“What kind of society gathers kids together in schools while there’s a contagious deadly virus?”
“What happens when they start opening the sports stadiums full of thousands of people?” said Jessie.
“Why are they doing that?” asked Eleanor.
“Money.”
***
A few weeks later Eleanor looked down from her balcony. The streets were filled with consumers and with their long arms they carried multiple shopping bags. Their facial features were a blur.
She walked back inside. The little magenta light went on and she hit a key on her control panel; it was a message from a friend she hadn’t heard from for a while.
Peter: When can I see you?
Eleanor: Tomorrow.
They set a time and place.
As Eleanor left her apartment the next day, she tightened her mask. Clouds above seemed sinister: shaped like skulls and creatures with pointed ears and tails.
A man crossed her path with a t-shirt that read: Fuck masks, fuck curfews, fuck lockdowns.
Eleanor rolled her eyes.
She walked to the gardens where in previous years she had seen brightly colored butterflies. Now they had metamorphosed to black-winged creatures, the veins on their wings protruded and their antennas sharp on their ends.
A man approached, riding a bike with extraordinary round wheels, his scarf flapping in the wind.
“Hi,” said Peter, stopping next to her. He laid his bike under a tree.
They sat down on the grass at a distance.
“I was coming home from work and I rode through the city the other night, there were people everywhere,” said Peter.
“The restrictions have lowered and most people don’t know what to do without the system,” said Eleanor.
“Do you like the system?”
“I hate the system. When nearly all of it shut down, many people became depressed, but I was filled with a little hope. The world had a chance to change. It had a chance to become better. But humanity didn’t want it to, they clung onto consumerism and superficialness. They were so dependent on it all.”
He nodded. “I had to isolate a few weeks ago. The grocery store I went to was an exposure site to the virus. My test came back negative.”
“Yes, my cousin’s family had to do that too, luckily their results were also negative.”
“I thought the virus would go away; it’s been here for months now.”
“So did I. But instead, there’s a deadlier strain.” Eleanor bowed her head.
They spoke for a time until a large spit of rain hit Eleanor’s forehead. They parted before the rain grew heavier.
***
“Percy Shelley was an idealist, intellectual, radical and politically active,” said the lecturer. “Does anyone want to read their favorite part of his poem Queen Mab?”
“I will.”
“Go ahead, Sarah.”
Sarah read aloud:
It is a wild and miserable world!
Thorny, and full of care,
Which every fiend can make his prey at will.
Oh Fairy in the lapse of years,
Is there no hope in store?
“Does Queen Mab give the maiden Ianthe hope?” asked the lecturer.
“Yes, she does,” said Sarah. “Queen Mab says we all have an everlasting soul that shouldn’t be rattled by mediocre things.”
“Anyone else have a favorite part?”
“I do,” said Madeline.
“Yes, Madeline.”
Madeline read aloud.
I know the past, and thence I will essay to glean.
A warning for the future, so that man
May profit by his errors and derive
Experience from his folly.
“A crucial warning for humanity,” said the lecturer “Anyone else?”
“I have a favorite part,” said Eleanor.
“Go ahead.”
Eleanor swallowed hard and began to read aloud:
A brighter morn awaits the human day,
When every transfer of earth’s natural gifts
Should be a commerce of good words and works;
When poverty and wealth, the thirst of fame,
The fear of infamy, disease and woe,
War with its million horrors, and fierce hell
Shall live but in the memory of time.
“Shelley’s taking away divisions and hierarchies,” said the lecturer. “He wants us all to be on equal ground and live peacefully.”
***
When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.
– Keats
Eleanor sat at her desk with her cheek resting on her palm, her face sagged. She had felt an unease for weeks, triggered by the rising numbers of the virus. There were dark shadows underneath her eyes, she had broken sleep for two nights, waking at three in the morning. She glanced at the kitchen piled with dishes again and there was a load of unwashed clothes waiting for her in the laundry.
The control panel vibrated and the little red light went on, but she didn’t feel like a long conversation or pretending she was happy. She ignored it.
Eleanor hit a key, changing the projection on the walls around her to one of Salvador Dali’s paintings Geopoliticus Child Watching the Birth of a New Man. She stared at the man in the painting hatching from an egg in a desolate background and humanity arises renewed.
She swallowed hard as she heard the alert tone and hitting the key, she sat silent listening to the breaking news.
A vaccine has been created that will offer immunity. It’s expected to become available in the next few weeks. The Melior vaccine will be available to all.
Her mouth fell open. A joy filled her.
“It’s happened,” she said aloud. “Immunity will become available.”
But even with all the joy she felt, a hint of disappointment crept to her: the world was to remain the same.
The kaleidoscope glasses glinted gold on the table, catching her attention. Eleanor picked up the glasses and walked to the window. Through the colored hues of the glasses she saw a different world. The corporate high-rises that reached the skies were gone and in their place was a great garden with a lush green grass that extended for infinity. The sun shone on the golden-green leaves of a large Fig tree, the sweet melody of the magpie filled the air and the people walked in peace speaking to one another with love and kindness.
As she removed the kaleidoscope glasses, they slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, and a sharp crack ensued. She picked up the glasses and a look of worry emerged. The pane had broken.
***
Present Day
Eleanor woke with a sense of excitement. She opened her eyes to an image of a melting clock projected on her bedroom ceiling. She got up, put on her long red leather coat, dark green scarf and mask.
As she walked to the train station, she glanced at the sign on the ground: Masks worn while travelling. The train seemed like a black snake that slithered onto the tracks as it turned the corner arriving at the platform. When it stopped Eleanor went into the carriage with the least number of people inside.
She sat at a distance to other people. As the train rocked, she glanced at the signs on the windows Trains are disinfected daily.
She felt unease as a man lowered his mask to talk on his mobile phone. A black mist crawled out of his mouth as he spoke.
Eleanor was relieved to arrive at her station. She crossed a curved concrete bridge and entered a glass spiral building. Her blood pulsed as she looked at the crowded medical center. There were too many people in one space: they never followed the rules. She walked to the receptionist sitting behind a glass partition.
“I’m here for immunity,” said Eleanor.
Eleanor sat nervously fidgeting in the waiting room of the medical clinic. She looked around, not knowing where to turn, people surrounded her. Her gaze lingered at the doorway, waiting for the doctor to come out and call her name.
“Eleanor,” called the doctor.
She followed him inside a tiny room. He grabbed a syringe on a tray.
“The vaccine may cause a mild fever, headache or sore arm,” he said, preparing the syringe. She turned her head away from him as he drew closer and injected her arm.
“Thank you,” she said to the doctor, with relief in her voice.
She took the train back to the city. When getting off at her station she immediately headed to the garden. The edges of her shoes covered in mud as she walked the path to the lake.
Eleanor slowly took off her mask, her hands a little shaky and her palms sweaty. Her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with joy. She reached for her mended Kaleidoscope glasses in her pocket, but before putting them on, her face brightened. In the mud grew a strand of green grass.
Dedicated to Renece
SULFUR 