Halo drove herself to the emergency room, and when she got there, she saw that several people there had broken fingers; most of them on the left hand like her. She went up to the admitting desk and was told to take a form to fill out.
She took the form on a clipboard and went to sit down. After she was done, she went up to the front desk and handed them her information. She was told to sit down again.
She became bored after about five minutes of waiting and she said to the woman sitting next to her, “So, the fracturalists visited you too, huh?”
The woman looked over at Halo, somewhat startled. “Yes,” she said.
“Was it a balding man wearing a green tie with gold stripes?”
“Oh, I don’t remember,” said the woman. “I hardly take the time to look at them. They come in, they do what they have to do, they leave. I don’t talk to them, I try not to notice much about them.”
“Oh,” said Halo. “Do you remember what he used? To break your fingers?”
The woman shook her head and made a face. “I close my eyes the minute they walk in. I don’t want to see what they use.”
“Me too,” said another man who was sitting nearby.
“Really?” Halo turned to look at the man who had spoken. He was probably in his forties or so, with black hair. He wore glasses.
“Yes,” said the man. “It makes it worse if you know. I would rather not know.”
“Well,” said Halo. “Did you guys vote last spring?”
The man and woman both answered that they had.
“So did you vote for the broken fingers on the submissive hand? And what were the other choices?”
“I don’t remember now,” said the woman. “Oh, I remember one of the other choices was a broken wrist on the submissive hand.”
“One of them was a spiral fracture to the leg only once a year,” said the man.
“How often do we get our fingers broken?” Halo asked.
“Mmmmm, I think it was every six months,” said the man. “Right?” he asked the woman.
“I don’t remember,” said the woman. “I just open the door when they come. I don’t like to think much about it.”
Oh my goodness, Halo thought. I would damn well remember how often my fingers were going to get broken.
“Don’t you guys hate it though, getting your bones broken all the time?” she asked the man and the woman.
The woman shrugged. “That’s just how it is.”
The man had a little more to say, “I don’t like it, no, but at the same time I appreciate all of the nice things that I have because of it.”
“What do you mean?” said Halo.
“I mean,” said the man, “That if we didn’t receive these fractures, we wouldn’t have the things we have.”
“What things?” said Halo.
“Well, our nice houses, our nice cars. What kind of car did you drive here today? Never mind, you don’t have to tell me, I bet it was nice though, right?”
“It was,” said Halo.
“And I enjoy my computer, my cell phone, I love gadgets and high-tech stuff. I enjoy going out to eat good food. I wouldn’t be able to do that if we didn’t live in a fracturalist system.”
“What?” said Halo. “What do you mean?”
The man looked annoyed a little bit. “If we didn’t get these fractures, we wouldn’t have any nice things. So I don’t really complain.”
Halo wrinkled her nose. “How do you know we wouldn’t have nice things?”
“You guys are giving me a headache,” said the woman.
“Sorry,” said Halo,
Halo thought about asking the man if he wanted to talk more about what he meant, maybe further away from the woman, but she was too afraid, because he seemed like he was getting annoyed at her questions.
The man’s name was called soon after the woman complained of a headache.
Halo thought to herself that it didn’t make any sense what the man said. They had to have their bones broken in order to have nice things? What did he mean? Did everyone everywhere who had nice things get their bones broken? She didn’t know. And were having nice things worth it? The man had mentioned her car. She personally didn’t think that driving a nice car was worth having her bones broken. She wouldn’t mind driving a POS car or taking the bus or even walking if it meant she didn’t have to have her bones broken, or anybody else’s for that matter.
She took the form on a clipboard and went to sit down. After she was done, she went up to the front desk and handed them her information. She was told to sit down again.
She became bored after about five minutes of waiting and she said to the woman sitting next to her, “So, the fracturalists visited you too, huh?”
The woman looked over at Halo, somewhat startled. “Yes,” she said.
“Was it a balding man wearing a green tie with gold stripes?”
“Oh, I don’t remember,” said the woman. “I hardly take the time to look at them. They come in, they do what they have to do, they leave. I don’t talk to them, I try not to notice much about them.”
“Oh,” said Halo. “Do you remember what he used? To break your fingers?”
The woman shook her head and made a face. “I close my eyes the minute they walk in. I don’t want to see what they use.”
“Me too,” said another man who was sitting nearby.
“Really?” Halo turned to look at the man who had spoken. He was probably in his forties or so, with black hair. He wore glasses.
“Yes,” said the man. “It makes it worse if you know. I would rather not know.”
“Well,” said Halo. “Did you guys vote last spring?”
The man and woman both answered that they had.
“So did you vote for the broken fingers on the submissive hand? And what were the other choices?”
“I don’t remember now,” said the woman. “Oh, I remember one of the other choices was a broken wrist on the submissive hand.”
“One of them was a spiral fracture to the leg only once a year,” said the man.
“How often do we get our fingers broken?” Halo asked.
“Mmmmm, I think it was every six months,” said the man. “Right?” he asked the woman.
“I don’t remember,” said the woman. “I just open the door when they come. I don’t like to think much about it.”
Oh my goodness, Halo thought. I would damn well remember how often my fingers were going to get broken.
“Don’t you guys hate it though, getting your bones broken all the time?” she asked the man and the woman.
The woman shrugged. “That’s just how it is.”
The man had a little more to say, “I don’t like it, no, but at the same time I appreciate all of the nice things that I have because of it.”
“What do you mean?” said Halo.
“I mean,” said the man, “That if we didn’t receive these fractures, we wouldn’t have the things we have.”
“What things?” said Halo.
“Well, our nice houses, our nice cars. What kind of car did you drive here today? Never mind, you don’t have to tell me, I bet it was nice though, right?”
“It was,” said Halo.
“And I enjoy my computer, my cell phone, I love gadgets and high-tech stuff. I enjoy going out to eat good food. I wouldn’t be able to do that if we didn’t live in a fracturalist system.”
“What?” said Halo. “What do you mean?”
The man looked annoyed a little bit. “If we didn’t get these fractures, we wouldn’t have any nice things. So I don’t really complain.”
Halo wrinkled her nose. “How do you know we wouldn’t have nice things?”
“You guys are giving me a headache,” said the woman.
“Sorry,” said Halo,
Halo thought about asking the man if he wanted to talk more about what he meant, maybe further away from the woman, but she was too afraid, because he seemed like he was getting annoyed at her questions.
The man’s name was called soon after the woman complained of a headache.
Halo thought to herself that it didn’t make any sense what the man said. They had to have their bones broken in order to have nice things? What did he mean? Did everyone everywhere who had nice things get their bones broken? She didn’t know. And were having nice things worth it? The man had mentioned her car. She personally didn’t think that driving a nice car was worth having her bones broken. She wouldn’t mind driving a POS car or taking the bus or even walking if it meant she didn’t have to have her bones broken, or anybody else’s for that matter.
