21. Regrets, I've Had a Few

[gunwithoutmusic]

Monday, September 18th—9:42 a.m.

796 words. Approximate reading time: 3 minutes, 58 seconds.

"This your first time applying?" Rasheeda asked Henry.

"Yeah, can you tell?" Henry replied, before looking down at his shaking leg and chuckling. "Nervous, I guess. Got no idea what to expect in there. How about you?"

"It's my third time," she said. "Really hope I get it this time. I think I'm ready for whatever they throw at me."

"What do they--"

"Now, you know we can't talk about that in the waiting room. They'll kick us both out of here and we'll have to start the whole process again."

"Right. Right, I forgot," Henry said. "But we can still talk, right? That's okay?"

"Yeah, they don't care if we talk," Rasheeda replied. "They know us 'country folk' can't help ourselves when we get around each other." She laughed a bit, and Henry smiled. "So what's your story? Why's this your first time?"

"Well, believe it or not, I had a chance to cross over right after the war."

"No kiddin'!" Rasheeda exclaimed. "What do you do?"

"I'm a trader now," Henry said. "Got a little caravan that goes around."

"That's honest work," she said, and Henry nodded. "What about before?"

"I was a CPA," he said.

Rasheeda chuckled. "Oh, I gotcha. Yeah, they definitely wanted your types, huh? So why didn't you take it?"

"I wish I had. But I had obligations. Family stuff, you know? My mom wasn't doing too good and with Dad already out of the picture and me the only kid, I couldn't just leave her like that. Not there."

"Hey, I get it," she said. "We've all been there. So why now? What's changed?"

"I guess it's still family stuff. Mom died a while back; that's when I packed up my little storefront and went out on the road. I never even gave a thought to trying to cross over. It had been too long since I'd done anything that they were looking for in me. Hell, I don't know if I can even remember how to do that kind of stuff now. But I met someone out on the road, and we got married.

"And now she's pregnant, and... Well this isn't the best place to give birth, you know? And I think, 'Do I want to raise a kid in this place anyway?' and then I think about what life could be like for my kid on the other side of the border. Always safe and comfortable, I want my kid and my wife to have the best possible life."

Rasheeda nodded. "What can I say? That's really cool. I hope you do alright."

Just then, the intercom on the wall buzzed, and a voice came over the speaker. "Applicant 82951-dash-02A, please step through the door."

"That's me," Henry said with a nervous smile.

"Good luck, honey!" Rasheeda said as Henry walked up to the door that read "Sanitization Chamber." The door opened for him. As soon as he stepped inside, the door closed again.

A voice came over a speaker. "Good morning, applicant 82951-dash-02A! For the safety of yourself and others, we require a full sanitization before entering the interview chamber. Please disrobe completely and prepare for sanitization. You may place your personal belongings in the bin provided." A box slid out from the wall next to Henry, startling him.

'I'd better just do as I'm told,' he thought as he removed his clothes and placed them in the bin, which slid back into the wall. Suddenly there was a sound like a water pump running, and Henry found himself being doused in a strange-smelling liquid.

"Thank you!" the speaker voice said. "Please dry off with the provided towel and put on the sanitary clothing items." The box that once held Henry's clothes slid back out of the wall, this time containing a towel, a paper robe, a face mask, and paper booties.

Henry wondered where his clothes went, but was thankful for the towel. He dried himself off and put on the robe, mask, and booties.

"Thank you!" the speaker voice said. "Please proceed into the interview chamber." A door opened for Henry, and he passed through it into a nearly empty room with all white walls, floor, and ceiling. In the center of the room sat a small desk with a portable computer on it.

"Please sit at the desk, open the laptop, and start the camera," the speaker voice said. "The interview will begin in five minutes."

Henry moved toward the desk and sat in the stiff chair. He looked at the laptop. He remembered these. They couldn't have changed so much in ten years. He gently reached out and tried to lift up the top portion to reveal the screen. It didn't budge.

"Please open the laptop and start the camera," the speaker voice said. "The interview will begin in four minutes."

Henry swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath before continuing to fumble with the technology.