Red [A Short Story by Matthew Munsey]

Chester awoke monday morning in his bedroom to the familiar sound of Kurt Cobain’s voice, and the bright red flash signaling his alarm steadily emanating from his bedside table. Sure, fish may not have any feelings, but Chester sure did, and what Chester felt right now was dread. Without much thought to the subject Chester slipped from his bed sheets, pulled on his old tattered Notre Dame sweatpants and his favorite green hoodie, placed his still vibrating spectacles upon his nose, and headed down the stairs. As soon as Chester had touched his Glasses the noise had stopped, but a steady dim light had still shone from behind the lenses as if to remind him he had still better put them on. Chester had been wearing his Glasses for a long time now, since he was only seven years old. A few years younger than some perhaps, but Chester’s parents had felt he had needed them - after all, they loved their pairs. Now fourteen, Chester and his Glasses were inseparable, as they should be.

As Chester made his way from his attic bedroom down the stairs to the lower landing he saw his parents’ names hovering steadily through their bedroom door, outlined by a dull pallid gray. Still asleep. Chester wasn’t surprised, he knew his parents were on schedule to wake up in forty five minutes, exactly seven o’clock. This left Chester with the same amount of time to leave the house before he would have to see them. It wasn’t quite the case that Chester didn’t want to see them, as he really did love them as deeply as any son could, more simply that he had no reason to.

As Chester contemplated this thought, he was finally coming downstairs to the kitchen, and with his new surroundings a new thought came into mind. Breakfast. Immediately the refrigerator glowed a dull inviting red through the lenses of his spectacles, as if to entice Chester even further towards his intentions. Well the enticement worked, and while Chester was preparing his cereal, three cups of milk and two cups of cornflakes (as per the instructions he was being given on his heads up display) he looked again up at the ceiling, where he knew he parents still slept. Torrence, his father’s name, still shone dim and still swathed in gray, but Martha, his mother, was in a new place now her name lit brightly green. This was odd, as Chester was fully aware that his parents never deviated from their set schedules, and that schedule keeping was a very important part (or so they told Chester) of being a grown up in the modern world. Without a second thought Chester asked his mother if anything was wrong. Simply thinking the message was enough for the words to go from his glasses screen up stairs to her own. Crazy world, huh? She replied immediately with a short “yes” and a “I hope you’re day goes well honey, XO.” Chester, as the words flitted across his vision in his mother’s usual flamingo pink and swirly cursive font, was satisfied, and without another thought on the subject returned his attention to his bowl.

Breakfast was done at exactly 6:22 AM. Chester usually tried to finish breakfast at 6:22, because that left just enough time for him to watch an episode of his favorite T.V. program, Jefferson’s Kids. The show was about Thomas Jefferson and his children, who together were a crime solving outfit of sorts. Just about the best show out there, in Chester’s opinion. With just enough time to spare, Chester flipped on the show. All he had to do was think about it, and there it was before his eyes. “Marvelous”, thought Chester. Chester had always thought his Glasses were great, but when he was watching T.V., he really loved them, it was just so much easier than before! After the show, which really always seemed to go by so fast for Chester, he grabbed his backpack and headed for the front door. On the way out chester noticed the small mirror hanging on the wall to the left of the entryway, and decided to fix up his hair. As he brushed it aside it ruffled through the translucent green that was his nametag, and settled in a spot that Chester thought looked fine. As he brushed the final piece of hair from his forehead, Chester with a feeling very reminiscent of the one he had had upon waking, left his house for school.

The walk to school was a short one, and it would only take Chester five minutes to get to his schoolroom. As Chester walked out the door he saw his neighbor, a friend of his Bill Jenkins, do the same. Right on time. As Bill walked down his driveway his Green Colored name tag shone resolutely above his head, just a Chester’s did. Having a Green name tag meant you were okay, if you’re name tag was red, you were in trouble. All of the people Chester had ever met had had Green name tags, Chester figured just about everyone alive did.

Bill waited a moment for Chester, something he did everyday, and the two of them walked down the street to school together. Bill was a nice kid, he was pretty tall for a fourteen year old, 5’9” to be exact, and had green eyes with dark brown hair and was a healthy 150 pounds, and played one heck of a game of ice hockey. Chester knew these things not because he and Bill were particularly close, and not to say that they weren't, but really everyone knew these things. It said so right below his name tag, all you have to do is look for it. Everyone knew Bill, because Bill was the kind of person everyone wanted to know, and everyone knew it. Everyone. Not many people wanted to know Chester. Chester looked at himself every day and wondered why he couldn’t be more like Bill. Why he had to be 4’11” still and why he only weighed 93 pounds, why his eyes weren’t an interesting color and why he couldn’t play ice hockey, or any kind of sport really worth a damn. But Chester knew why people didn’t notice him… It was because he just wasn’t noticeable. Heck the coolest place Chester had ever been was Niagara Falls, Bill had pictures of Somalia and Nepal and all sorts of cool places, and all anyone had to do to see it was take a look through the guy’s profile! To say Chester was jealous was an understatement.

On the walk Bill and Chester exchanged a few words, a quick “hey man” was sent from Bill to which “Hello” Chester responded. Chester wouldn’t have minded talking a bit more, but he could tell Bill was busy, his eyes were darting back and forth all over behind his Glasses, surely responding to message after message from his adoring fans. Chester knew he wasn’t really cool enough to hang out with Bill anyways with all of his loving admirers, but because they were neighbors and had been friends as children, the two boys had always remained relatively close even through their social differences. Bill looked tired this morning, his eyes which were usually light and full of life seemed dim to Chester, and the circles under Bill’s eyes were a ghostly purple white. Chester thought to ask Bill if he was alright but guessed better than to pry. Chester was only Chester after all, and Bill was Bill. People liked Bill and no one seemed to care for Chester so much, so he thought “what could I really do anyway?” Nothing, Chester figured, so he just let it slip by and returned to his own thoughts.

As the two approached the school house, a horde of shimmering green and tangled names appeared before the two boys, each quickly sorting itself into neat little columns, with tabs off of every one for the different assigned categories they had been deemed to fall under. Under each of these names was a student sitting at a small desk, with a blank white book laid neatly before them where their lesson would be projected. Today’s lesson was public appearance, everyone seemed very excited. Chester quickly scanned the list of students as he and Bill took their seats in the back. Bill always sat in the back lately, and Chester wondered why... But ah, there she was. Cindy Tuebo, Chester’s dream girl. Sitting pretty at 4’8”, she was one of the only girls in Chester’s grade who was shorter than he was, and thus Chester was enthralled. Everyday Chester tried to work up the courage to speak to her, but everyday instead of typing any words, even a simple “hello” Chester simply settled with the prospect of just looking at her face. His favorite picture of her on her profile was an old one, one before she had gotten her pair of Glasses. She looked so innocent and kind.

Chester was pulled from this silent reverie by a message from Bill. “Hey look at this” flashed quickly before Chester’s eyes, and then a link to a website. As Chester read the words on the page, he saw Bill’s eyes alight with a glow again from behind the words. Not the old glow Bill had used to have, but a different one. After a brief disclaimer “A way to lose your Glasses” Was boldly printed on the heading of the information Chester read. Concerned now, Chester read on.

“Are you tired of the constant scrutinization, tired of the constant pressure to succeed? Do you want to run your life the way you want to, not the way you’re told? Follow this guide to prepare yourself to rejoin the true reality, and to free yourself from this technological plague. To free yourself from Glasses.”

At this point Chester had to stop for a ball had begun to form deep in the pit of his stomach, and looking up to see Bill’s horrifying expression of delight and desire made everything that much worse. For a while all Bill and Chester did was look at one another. Bil with that look of terrified glee and Chester struck dumb by disbelief. For a while neither of them said a word until. “I’m going to do it now.”

With this message still floating resolutely in Chester’s vision, he watched Bill stand up and walk out of the front door. Chester followed Bill’s bright green name tag out of the entryway, and down to where Chester knew the street began. Chester thought to himself, Was Bill running away? And how would he with his Glasses, how could he keep them away, we all have to wear them after all, no exceptions! That’s how it works now. And why would Bill want to run away!? For crying out loud he’s Bill, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him. How could he want to leave all of that behind? Doesn’t he know how much we all want to be him!? And with that thought still trailing in Chester’s mind, and with Bill’s bright green name tag still in view, suddenly… Red.