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Chapter 8

“Kay-lee! Kay-lee!” A flaxen-haired little girl turned around. What she saw caused her face to erupt in delight. She had a brimming smile, while regarding an orange hippo with bright inquisitive eyes. Freckles lightly dusted her nose and below her eyes. Her cheeks, squeezable and plump, were rosy.

The girl lilted, “Hermie! I thought you went away! Are you here to play with me?”

Hermie chuckled lightly, putting his hands on his belly, “Yes, Kay-lee! Even though your friends don’t believe that I exist. I know you believe. That’s why I came back!”

The little girl jumped excitedly, “I’m so happy you’re here, Hermie! My mommy and daddy said I have to stay up here until I’m ready to be good. But what happened wasn’t even my fault! It was Madison who made the mess in the kitchen with Louis.”

Hermie replied, “I saw what happened. You have to trust that your parents know best. They’ll never ever steer you wrong. If you think of yourself like a great big sailboat- your parents are the wind that pushes you along.”

The girl sighed and lightly stomped her feet, “But I didn’t do it!”

Hermie smiled his ever-present smile, “It doesn’t matter. Just accept your parents know best. No matter what they say or do to you. Same for your aunts and uncles, your teachers- all adults. It’s a lot easier to just listen and behave, right Kay-lee?”

Very light piano music drifted into the little girl’s bedroom. She looked around for its source but a grin soon replaced her confusion as Hermie began swaying back and forth.

The hippo sung, “Your parents know best, they’ll fix any little mess! A scraped knee, a bully, you must confess, that your parents know best! Follow all their rules, it’s really not that hard, you’ll get so far above the rest, if you accept that your parents know besssssssstttttttt!”

The little girl hung her head, “When I’m older, maybe I’ll know more. My parents love me, they’ll open every door. So I’ll never ever ask them why, just do as I am told, and never be bold!”

The two sung together, “Just accept that parents know beeeeeeeeeesssssssssttttttt!

The blonde girl reached out and hugged the orange hippo, “Thanks, Hermie! I’m gunna say sorry right now to my mommy and daddy.”

Hermie looked down at her with that eternal grin, “Wonderful, Kay-lee! When you go, I know you’ll just feel so good inside. Your mommy and daddy will hug you and tell you how much they love you. Remember that people who are older than you are wiser too.”

The girl looked at the Hermie, clearly perplexed, “What’s that mean?”

Hermie replied, “It means they know more than you. Just like the song!”

The girl replied happily, “Thanks, Hermie! I get it. I love you! And one day I’ll get my friends to believe me that you’re real.”

Hermie reached out and hugged the little girl, “I know you will, Kay-lee! And I love you too.”

Ms. Daniels said, “And cut! Wonderful scene, Kaylee. Did you have any trouble with the blocking?”

I shook my head. “No. The script was really clear about where I needed to stand and how I needed to move during the song.”

I had allowed myself to fall into the role of Kaylee. It was easier than thinking about my actions or my lines. If I treated it like we were separate people, that it was simply a story, and I was playing a character within it, perhaps I could maintain a separation between Kaylee and Ryan.

After all, the best actors in the world only become their characters for a production, a scene- an instance where a vicious temper is needed or unconditional love. However, even the ones in makeup don’t go home looking like their characters. I did.

It was the third episode, and surprisingly, all had gone smoothly, even Devon and Mark, who I expected to be trouble during filming, were nearly perfect. Ms. Daniels’ threat had apparently been enough to scare them straight.

Ms. Daniels spoke into a headset that was linked to the control room. “Did you get the C-U on Kaylee during the song? I didn’t see camera 3 moving at all.”

I assumed that the cameras were all controlled remotely from the control room. The boom mics too seemed to move without any physical prompting.

Ms. Daniels ground her heel into the floor. I noticed she did this when she was particularly upset, “I don’t care that you got it with camera 6. It was supposed to be camera 3. Well then fix it! I noticed camera 7 and 8 weren’t moving either. Fix those too!”

Robotic or remote controlled cameras weren’t unusual for a production this size, and it avoided the use of camera operators, who might have asked awkward questions, like “Where are your parents?” On sets with child actors, parents were almost always present, especially when young children were involved. A commercial, where I had a tiny part, starred a young boy who had a stage mother for a father. The kid clearly didn’t want to be there, but the father kept insisting he redo his parts, even after the director OKed the scenes.

After three episodes of Hermie, it was clear the filming was going fine, except for this issue with the cameras.

The elevator thrummed to life. Thirty seconds later, the 'paramedics' who had brought me to my current prison were carefully checking the cameras. The heavier set one said, “Someone’s pulled the power cables from these.”

Ms. Daniels looked at us, the assembled children, and said, “Have little hands been touching the equipment? Children- these cameras are not toys! Speak up now. Remember what Hermie says, adults know best. If I find out little hands have been touching the equipment, you’ll all be in big, big trouble.”

We said nothing. Ms. Daniels peered down at us, bending forward in the process. For a woman her age, her chest should have sagged more. Gravity should have taken the impressive chest and pulled it hurtling downward- but it hadn't. They were as perky and as firm looking as Monique’s, without the silicone.

A tiny smile grew on the woman’s formerly angry face, “Kaylee, it’s not polite to stare. I’m not mad though.” She gently tousled my hair, “I’m sure you were just looking because you were curious. When you are about twelve or thirteen, sometimes earlier, you’ll start growing a pair of your own. It’s actually natural and healthy to look. I bet you can’t wait to be all-grown-up, right? You’ll probably be a perfectly, pretty young woman, won’t you Kaylee?” Her last words carried with them such heavy sarcasm that she might as well held up a sign that said, “THIS IS REALLY SUPPOSED TO ANNOY YOU.”

The boys laughed, and I regarded Ms. Daniels with a sneer, but she snatched my hand and easily dragged me along with her, out of earshot of the others. She motioned for Hermie to watch the others. “There were cameras running in the audition room. I saw how you looked at me before. You were disgusted weren’t you? Probably not the same way you were with the receptionist at the clinic, but similar. Am I right?”

When I turned my head from her, she hissed, “Answer me. Or this can become much worse.”

I glared at her defiantly, my lips firm and my jaw clenched. She simply smiled, “There’s still too much Ryan in you. You have until the count of three to answer my question. Were you disgusted by me before?”

This was not a battle I could win. It was the equivalent of the minefield, the loaded gun question of the ages- "Do I look fat in this?" This was the question now asked of millions of viewers on YouTube on weight loss channels, but the answer, no matter what, would always leave the girl or boy unsure if there was sincerity in the words or devastated at being called ‘fat’.

Had I gone on a few of the sites? Yes, particularly where I felt that if the girl lost weight she could be a perfect ten. I was very honest, sometimes blunt. I loved to watch their progression, usually from chunky freshman fifteens to nearly perfect. There were always one or two things wrong, but still, it was usually an improvement. Unless, the weight loss gave the girl a horse face. That was always unfortunate.

“One.” I really didn’t want to have to tell her that the bags under her eyes made me think she was seriously sleep deprived or a meth addict. Those were the first words that popped into my head. Or that the clothing she wore during our first meeting, especially the blouse, made her look like a lumpy trash bag with the way it emphasized her love handles.

“Two.” But could I lie to her? She would know. If the camera was on me during the audition, it recorded my reaction to her face and her upper body, including her formerly large saggy breasts. Not to mention, as per Ashley’s advice, I was supposed to be staying under the radar. That meant doing as Ms. Daniels asked.

I nodded, “OK fine. Yeah, I mean you weren’t exactly my type. You reminded me of a mom who used to be hot but kind of let herself go.” I knew Hollywood types. “But you’ve really firmed up.” I knew them really well. These were people who considered a tummy tuck a routine procedure.

She asked with a delighted smile, “Really?” The words bounded off her tongue.

I replied confidently, “Definitely. I mean you’ve seen the look on my face, right? You’re fucking hot. I’d do you in a second.” As bizarre as it was to have those words come out of the mouth of a little girl, Ms. Daniels ate them up, like a football team at an all-you-can-eat pasta buffet.

She grinned and again tousled my hair, “That’s wonderful to hear, Kaylee, but it’s not really proper. It’s only natural for men and women to have those feelings about each other. You’re too young to understand now, but eventually you’ll want to look like me, instead of…well you’re far too young for me to explain that.”

I shrugged off Ms. Daniels’ attempt to goad me, but her words planted themselves in my mind like a parasitic seed, leeching the remnants of my masculinity. Would I come to see myself as only Kaylee? Would I have to grow up again? Oh shit. I couldn’t even imagine having to deal with the bleeding and the hormones- in a way, being a child shielded me from the more distasteful aspects of being a woman, except for my inability to control my emotions at times.

Ms. Daniels asked, “Are you thinking about how you’d like to look when you’re all grown up, Kaylee? How many boyfriends you’ll have? It’s exciting isn’t it? Don’t be in a hurry to grow up though.” She said the final words with a beaming smile, “You’ll miss all the fun!”

A grim seriousness eclipsed the smile, “Of course, you’ll get older, losing your beauty to time. You won’t get the looks that you both hate and crave any longer. But then…you’re years and years away from that, Kaylee.”

I asked, “What are you going to do with us when this is over? I mean are you going to keep us here?”

Ms. Daniels grinned, but the expression lacked any sympathy or remorse for what she had wrought. No, it was the look of a madwoman. The way her cold eyes dug into my own was disconcerting, but the slight curling of her lip and the way she gently ran her tongue over her teeth, as if she meant to devour me whole, this- this was terrifying.

She answered in a sing-songy voice, “Why you’ll go back to your mommy and daddy, Kaylee.”

***

The first day was long. When Ashley and I finally returned to the room, it was pitch black, and I had to fumble in the dark in order to plug in the night light. Amazingly, the tiny light acted as a beacon to control her fear. The fitful sleep that had plagued her was gone, and she woke each morning brimming with energy. Three days later, we had finished nearly the entire first season. We were doing between four and five episodes a day, which amounted to twelve to fourteen hour days.

There were still the odd glitches in the shooting, like the boom mic cutting out halfway through a scene, but all of the performers, even Mark and Devon, followed the script. I also hadn’t told anyone what Ms. Daniels said, not even Ashley.

On the fifth day of shooting, as I was walking between sets, I saw something plastic lying on the floor. At first glance, it looked like a credit card, but as I grew nearer, I could see it was actually some sort of access card. The card had a tiny microchip built into its thin frame. I looked around, ensuring there were no cameras on me and quickly slipped off my shoe. The script had me wearing dresses in every scene, so I didn’t have any pockets, but I was able to slide the card into my shoe without a problem.

Later in the room, when both of us were exhausted from another marathon day of shooting, I climbed into Ashley’s bunk and whispered, “Hey. Hey! Are you asleep?”

I received a groan in reply, “I was. What’s up, Ryan?” Night was the only time we ever stepped out of our characters. We weren’t certain there were cameras on us, but it was a time when we could reassert who we actually were. We told stories about our families to remember our lives, although Ashley definitely focused more on her mom, while I, unsurprisingly, talked about my dad.

I held the plastic card in my hand, cradling it, before carefully handing it to Ashley. “I found this behind the classroom set today. You think it might open one of those doors in the hallway before the studio?”

Ashley ran her hands along the edge of the card, and she emitted a tiny cry of surprise, “Wow, this is a great find! It might. It’s worth a try. I think the whole under the radar thing is working. It’s like the boys had the same idea. Did you mention it to them?”

I frowned and began to fidget. “Uh, there’s three of us, Ashley.”

Ashley replied, “Sorry, it’s just you really get into the role. I sometimes forget. You’re actually a really good actor, Ryan.” She laughed, “Sorry if I sound so surprised. But even the mannerisms. It’s hard to tell I’m watching someone who used to be a grown man. That’s not a stab at you at all, it just means you’ve got great range.”

I accepted the compliment with a sour face and sigh, “That’s what has me a bit worried. I’m finding it easier and easier to enter into Kaylee mode. I’m getting used to this, and it’s freaking me out.”

Ashley said gently, “I think based on what has happened to you, you’ve done really well to maintain who you are. Listen, tomorrow you’re going to use that card during filming. You’re actually not in one of the episodes until the very end. I’ll botch some lines to buy you some time. I get the feeling there aren’t many people here, and with the two in the control room watching the cameras taping the show, maybe they won’t notice if you sneak out and try the card.”

I asked, “Should we risk it though? What if Ms. Daniels follows through on her threat?”

Ashley said firmly, “Are you Ryan or are you Kaylee? Snap out of it. What happened to the guy who had all the confidence in the world? The guy who walked up to me, checked me out and then said that line. Are you telling me you’re not still the same person inside? That is a question that Kaylee would ask. She’s timid, probably a little momma’s girl always hanging around her mommy’s skirts.”

She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. The action had a calming effect. “I think we can only act in these roles for so long before we actually become Madison and Kaylee. We’ve kept out of trouble for the last few days, and hopefully, they are at a point where they think they can trust us. Eventually, you have to act. Come on, Ryan. This has you written all over it. If you can’t gather the courage to do this, then you’ve lost. You might as well just accept that you are going to be Kaylee for the rest of your life.”

I fell backwards with a defeated sigh. What was wrong with me? Usually, it was so easy to escape, quit a job, break off a relationship- sometimes over text or voice mail. However, here- there was no escape. Not this time.

I said, “I can’t do it. I just- I feel like it’s hopeless. They have a plan for us, I’m not sure what exactly. But Ms. Daniels, she told me when they are done with us, they are sending us to our parents. And I doubt she means our real parents.”

Ashley lay down next to me. She propped her head up with her hand and rested on her elbow. “It doesn’t matter what they are going to do. All that means is that we have to get out of here before we are finished shooting. Tomorrow, you need to see if that card works on the doors.”

I shook my head, “You don’t understand. I’ve never really been good at anything. I quit football because I was too small. I left home because I couldn’t stand living with my mom, and my girlfriend moved away. I didn’t go with her because I was scared I was too stupid to go to college. Two weeks ago or how ever long it’s been, I was ready to quit acting. I quit my job at the restaurant too. I’ve quit everything- relationships, friendships. I don’t have the ability to deal with this. I talk a big game, Ashley, but I’ve never really succeeded at much in my life. And it’s just so easy to run away from it all and start over.”

Ashley asked, “So you are ready to start over as Kaylee, is that it? You’re pathetic. You don’t think I’m scared? I think I need to bring Mark in here to set you straight. So you’ve been running your whole life, and I’m sure that moving so much didn’t help, but you are holding your life in the balance here. Your memories, your thoughts and feelings- everything that makes you Ryan Sullivan. It’ll be gone. Is that what you want?”

I sulked, “No. But I just feel like I’m in a room and the walls are caving in on me. And no matter what I try to do to stop them, they keep moving.”

Ashley replied, “I’m not an expert on this, Ryan, but it sounds like you are fighting growing up. You run away from the things that force you to deal with harsh realities. You aren’t a failure because you haven’t really ever tried. From what you’ve told me with your past relationships and your jobs, you never put yourself in a position where you could grow. Did you know I’ve been in the business since I was eleven years old? I begged my mom before that, but she wouldn’t let me.”

She added, “For some people, it takes a really long time to break into acting. And how long have you been at it? Like two years? You didn’t fail. You just gave up. Just like you are now, but here- you have nowhere to go. Do you really want to let Daniels win?”

She shook her head, slowly moving away from me, edging back toward her pillow. “Is this how you want your dad to see you? He’s up there watching you- do you think he’d be proud of you?”

I felt immense pressure in my chest, and then a burning in my throat, as a massive lump formed. My eyes were seemingly going to return to the well, but as the first tear dribbled down my cheek, I thought about my dad. I imagined him looking down on me, disgust filling every part of his being, and then I thought about my mom. Shit. I was turning into my mom. My eyes widened, my brows attempting to break through the ceiling of our bedroom. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I wanted to climb down into my bunk and hide under the covers until morning, then maybe it would be fine, but I started to realize that Ashley might be right. The image of my dad looking down on me with revulsion stayed with me, and the fact that hiding under the covers crying my eyes out is what my mom would have done, began to push me solidly in a more courageous direction.

My dad had braved Afghanistan and Iraq and been shot at more times than he could count. He defused fucking bombs for a living. If he could do that, I could sneak into a room. I snatched the card from Ashley’s hand, which was an impressive feat in the dark, and returned to my bunk.

***

“Sorry, Ms. Daniels.”

“Madison, you are usually so good with your lines. What’s gotten into you today?”

Ms. Daniels was peering at Ashley sternly, her hands planted firmly on hips that were getting slimmer by the day. The fine lines that used to have a perpetual presence at the ridge of her eyes only formed when she laughed now. Her legs once marred by ugly purplish veins were slender and smooth. She had the fresh-faced look of a junior executive. Few people would believe that she had the power to hire and fire anyone, unless she was a celebrity or someone with serious connections.

Ashley replied, “I’m just a bit nervous today. I’m not sure why. I’ll get it this time. I swear.”

Ms. Daniels nodded and called for action. I took this opportunity to slip away. For a moment, I thought that Hermie saw me, but it was hard to tell where the human eyes behind the rubber mask were actually pointing.

Once I entered the corridor, I increased my pace. Ashley and I had carefully scouted the corridor, noting that there weren’t any obviously visible cameras in the space. My short legs covered the distance slowly. To me, I was moving at lightning speed, but the actual distance I travelled was small. The twin pig tails bounced on my shoulders as I pumped my legs. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached the two fire doors, each with a separate access panel. I leaned down and popped off my ballet flat, revealing the key card.

I tried the door, which still bore the notches from Ashley’s keys, but the light on the panel glowed red, denying me entry. Frustrated, but feeling courageous with the notion that I might save everyone with my discovery, I tried the opposite door, but I felt less enthusiastic, knowing it led to the cafeteria. Still, the card slid into the waiting slot, immediately turning the light green and emitting a gentle buzzing sound. Thankfully, the door slid open in the same manner as the bedroom and cafeteria doors. I was certain that the door would have been too heavy for me to open on my own.

I entered the cafeteria and explored the room. We ate all our meals here, so I felt I knew the layout well enough. I couldn’t see any other doors, other than the one I had used to enter, but I noticed a small air vent on the far side of the room. I sighed heavily. The access card had led me to a dead end. My chest constricted, my failure imminent, as I realized the card was useless. I could be the first one to sit down in the cafeteria, choosing a blue cup, but nothing beyond that.

I remembered Ashley’s words, however, and quickly saw my error. I had to look for the advantages in this body, as minor and rare as they might be. I examined the vent and noticed a significant difference between the one in the studio and this one- there were no screws. The thin metal grate easily slid open and Kaylee’s tiny form fit perfectly in the enclosed space. As Ryan, I would have had trouble even getting my upper body in the vent. Ok. A tiny advantage. Oh and apparently, I could sing now too. I realized that I had sung the song with Hermie effortlessly. Before, I was practically tone deaf.

I crawled through the duct, which led me to another grate. I opened it easily and entered what looked like a stock room. There were a number of shelves and cupboards lining the walls. The carpeted floor muffled my footsteps as I crept into the room. Light from the cafeteria filtered in, and I realized that my best opportunity to avoid detection by any cameras was to stay in the shadows.

The same shadows that my now very active imagination filled with monsters every night. I caged my fear, realizing that this could be my only opportunity to explore the room for my possible salvation. Steeling myself, I crept along the wall, using my hands to feel my way between the shelves and cupboards. I came across a well-lit area with a number of filing cabinets.

The filing cabinets were all taller than me, except for one, which was about at my eye level but unfortunately, all of them were locked. However, just as I was feeling a debilitating sense of failure weigh on my slight shoulders, I caught sight of something shiny on the cabinet. Normally, warning bells should have gone off. This was entirely too easy. The access card and now, a set of keys in plain view.

A taller person could have missed the keys, but they were placed directly at eye level for me. I simply had to swivel my head to see them. I picked up the keys and quickly started trying them in one cabinet marked “PERSONAL EFFECTS”. The third key I chose turned in the lock. The drawer slid open easily.

For the second time in as many days, my eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. Inside the drawer was a set of plastic bags. All of them had cell phones wallets, and other personal items. I felt joy, similar to a child on Christmas morning or when I received a text from Monique (OK, maybe I was actually happier that Jessica agreed to go out with me, but Monique was a close second). Inside my plastic bag was the pin that marked my dad’s successful overseas duty and my cell phone, including the charger. The five-inch device looked like a tablet computer in my small hands. I immediately located the power button and held it in, desperately hoping that I had at least enough juice to make one phone call or text.

Should I call the police? Ignoring the whole turning adults into children crime, they were breaking the law Ashley had quoted- the fair use and equal pay or something. Oh, and they were also holding minors prisoner.

Unfortunately, my phone was completely dead. The top of the line, paid with a credit card smart phone had a battery saving mode that allowed the phone to hibernate for weeks if it wasn’t used, draining very little battery. The fact that it was dead meant that we had likely been here for at least a month, possibly more. I checked the other phones, but they were also dead. I quickly looked for a power outlet.

It was at this point, that I heard voices. To the left of the eye-level cabinet, I saw a vent, similar to the one in the studio.

“Your constant filming has jeopardized my experiment, Ms. Daniels. You told me explicitly that I would be allowed to continue my observations of their behaviour and their transition. Instead, you have them filming twelve to fourteen hours a day. This is a critical juncture. I insist that you give me access to the children for at least two to three hours per day.” It was Dr. Travers, and while his voice wavered momentarily from its monotone consistency, he soon enough readopted his trademark drone.

It seemed the vent led to an adjoining room. Next to it was the outlet I had been searching for. I plugged in my phone and waited for it to go into the start-up sequence.

Ms. Daniels replied, “Doctor, our agreement was that I would bring you the subjects for your experiment. I have provided you with monitors for you to view the children while we are filming. While they are eating and a multitude of cameras in the bedroom of both the girls and the boys. I’ve got investors to look after. The world doesn’t stop with your research. All the equipment and lab space you’ve been given costs money. Millions of dollars in fact.”

Dr. Travers droned, “You will make your money back tenfold. Look what it has done for you in smaller doses. I’ve discovered the secret of youth, Ms. Daniels.”

Ms. Daniels hissed, “We can’t tell anyone other than the inner circle what the serum actually does. Are you insane? I know you want the credit for the scientific discovery, but you can never go public with it. I will continue to supply you with generous grant money, and you will continue producing newer and improved versions of the formula.”

“And what about my observations? I need to view the children in a non-artificial environment. The controls for my experiments demand it. They need to interact with real children to test their responses to the stimuli. Lacking this, I will have an incomplete dataset, and I will be unable to make the required modifications to the serum. This is very delicate work.”

The doctor added, with the firmness of an automated telephone operator telling the user to hang up the phone, “We are quickly running out of time with this batch.”

Ms. Daniels asked, “Why are you always so pressed for time in getting your dataset, Doctor? You were like this with the last batch too.”

Dr. Travers replied, “I will attempt to keep this at a level a television executive can understand. The moment the serum is given, the body and mind are malleable, but this effect is not permanent. In that time, further alterations can be made. After this period, however, only interaction with real children or serious trauma will cause the mind to change. The body will also begin to age normally. The issue is I do not have the dataset to perfect the formula.”

My phone hummed to life, the hibernation feature slowly disengaging. It took more time to boot due to the previously static state, but unfortunately, the start-up sequence also caused the phone to chime loudly.

The conversation in the other room stopped.

Ms. Daniels asked, “Was that your phone, Doctor?”

Doctor Travers replied, “I don’t have a cellular phone, Ms. Daniels. It might have been my computer. Now what are you going to do about this? I need that data.”

“Why can’t you keep experimenting on convicts or the homeless? If you remember, and I know you do- the government is supporting both this show and your research with the knowledge that you will be doing what you can to alleviate the prison overcrowding occurring in most federal penitentiaries as well as dealing with the homeless population.”

The doctor replied, “I consider those experiments failures. And while the prisoners provide a unique dataset, it is not helpful for the general populace. The criminal mind works differently. Many of the homeless I experimented on had mental disorders I was unable to remove. I cannot perfect the formula using them.”

He added, “I need two to three hours per day.”

Ms. Daniels scoffed, “Are you suggesting we bring them to a park to play with other children? It’s too dangerous. You can have your two to three hours once the filming for the first season is over. I need to get it on the air. I’ve got some extremely influential pharmaceutical investors supporting the show. Including government backing. They’ll shut everything down if they think there’s no money in this. And that’ll mean your grant money.”

Dr. Travers droned, “Why would the government back a children’s program in that manner? It makes little sense. Especially since the moral platitudes you are offering would run counter to any conventional education program provided by the state.”

Ms. Daniels laughed, “Because with the marketing machine, with the promotions, the toys, the direct-to-DVD movies, we’ll have an entire generation of children effectively cowed. They will be taught to question nothing, to respect authority- all authority. What government wouldn’t want that?”

Dr. Travers replied, “And what about the parents? Won’t they have issues with little Johnny learning such problematic life lessons?”

Ms. Daniels said confidently, “Yes, some will. Absolutely. And they will keep their children away from it. The parents who use television or Netflix as a babysitter though, they’ll raise perfect obedient little robots. Did you know that most parents don’t actually know what their kids are watching or playing?”

I definitely could corroborate the latter, especially since I had been sworn at by at least a hundred eight year olds during Call of Duty or Battlefield matches over the years. Of course that never stopped the kids… I used to sneak over to a friend’s place to play Grand Theft Auto.

The doctor replied, “I don’t know the statistic, but I would imagine it is a high percentage. It seems extremely problematic, at least in my medical opinion, that you would have a generation of children grow up without any healthy coping mechanisms. You are teaching them to fear everything, except their parents- yet they are more likely to be hurt by their parents. They are liable to suffer from anxiety and depression.”

Ms. Daniels’ oozed self-adulation, “That’s where the pharmaceutical companies come in. That’s why they invested in the show. You know the “Brought to you by” section of the show? It says Brought to you by a Happier America. That’s big drug money at work. Half the people in this country already take some kind of sleep aid or sedative. We already dope up all the kids who misbehave in school. Now we’ll also give them and their friends, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. All we’re doing here is making sure the next generation go down the same path as their parents.”

I peered down at my phone, and that crushing weight, the thousand pounds that screamed my failure bore down on me. The phone showed no signal. I couldn’t even make emergency calls. I would have to charge it enough to make it portable and then seek out a signal, perhaps by a window. I obsessively checked the battery, watching it tick up from 1 to 2 to 3% charged. I would need 5%, especially since the phone would quickly die if I couldn’t find a signal.

“And what are you getting from all this, Ms. Daniels?”

Ms. Daniels laughed, and surprisingly it lacked the huskier tone of her laugh from only minutes ago “Access to the fountain of youth and millions upon millions of dollars. We have an excellent arrangement here Dr. Don’t jeopardize it for any perceived ethics on your part.”

I heard a buzzing, and even though I had set my phone to silent, my hand flew to the phone. The buzzing continued, indicating a call. However, considering I had no signal, I knew it wasn’t mine. A few seconds later, Ms. Daniels spoke, “She’s still having trouble with the lines? I’m on my way.”

“Doctor, is it possible Madison has lost her ability to read? Or at least understand what she is reading?”

Dr. Travers replied, “Yes, but it is impossible to tell without observing her and completing a full examination. I need to see her. Tomorrow morning. It might be that the current iteration of the formula is more successful than I initially believed.”

Ms. Daniels shouted, “Not if it means they are losing their acting ability! We haven’t even finished shooting the first season yet. I want you to remove all the memories of their previous life, except for their knowledge of acting and their ability to read. Can you do this?”

Dr. Travers intoned, “I know that this is something you have requested for future versions of the formula, but it has not reached this stage yet. Again, I need that dataset. Specifically, I need to know how and why the interaction with real children causes the adult mind that remains to deteriorate more quickly. This regression may also be tied to memory, but I don’t know that yet. Put simply Ms. Daniels, without that dataset you will always have at least semi-belligerent actors on your stage. You can physically regress them, but past the malleable period, there will always be a piece of their old selves. Which will place your long-term plan into the realm of impossibility. A pipe dream in laymen’s terms.”

Ms. Daniels said, “Fair enough, Doctor. I promise that you will have your dataset. In fact, I have the perfect idea how to get it and deal with the issues in the girls’ room.”

I heard the clicking of heels, and realizing that Daniels was on her way back to the studio, I quickly returned my phone to the plastic bag and replaced it in the filing cabinet. I wasn’t sure how Ms. Daniels managed to get a signal, but my phone was just a very pretty piece of plastic without one.

I also wasn’t sure why they kept the phones there, so if I removed them, they would know someone had been in the room. Thankfully, the carpeted floor allowed me to sprint across the room, where I quickly dove into the vent and exited into the cafeteria.

I ran into an empty corridor and rapidly tried to shut the door to the cafeteria. I threw my featherweight form against the door, not concerned that the action might jar my shoulder or even dislocate it. If Daniels and Travers knew I had been eavesdropping, I was certain they would use me as a guinea pig for the memory wipe. I knew too much. I didn’t have anyone to tell, but I assumed that once the show became popular, once the juggernaut of a marketing machine got rolling, fans of the show would want to know about its young stars. I might just let it slip that we were actually prisoners here and that the whole show was just a massive plot to make children drug dependent.

The door shut more easily than I anticipated, but it still required significant effort on my part, including a shoulder that would be extremely sore tonight. Honestly, I was actually worried I wouldn’t be able to shut it all, but maybe something about the sliding-mechanism made it easier to close.

I slipped the access card back into my shoe and made my way back to the studio.

A sharp voice called out as I entered, “Kaylee! Where were you? And your dress! It’s ruined!” Ms. Daniels’ voice wavered between a gruff maturity and a sophomoric lilt.

Upon inspection, the dress, which had once been pristine white with a pink sash, was soiled. Looking down, even my knees were grimy. Suddenly an idea popped into my head, as my childhood memories returned me to a time when I had been splashing in puddles, trekking through muck and depositing the whole world onto my mother’s kitchen floor. I remember a weird kid I had met on a base in Missouri. He liked to play dogs. Which meant, he would crawl around (on-all-fours) and bark, lick things and sometimes even bite things (people included). His mom even fed him from a dog dish. I mean I liked eating beans and wieners from a dish sometimes, but not every day. This kid, Kevin, would always ask me to play with him because none of the others would. Well, I played with him, but only because he had just about every game system you could imagine. And his parents didn’t care about him playing the goriest and most violent games. I still remember spending hours shooting zombies in the face with shotguns in Resident Evil, watching their heads practically explode in a wonderful mess of brains, blood and bone. I was eight, but I wasn’t scared.

I was glad I had met Kevin, not just because of his incredible video game collection, but because he gave me the only idea I could muster in three seconds.

“I was playing kitty cat, Ms. Daniels. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wreck the dress. I got bored waiting for Maddie to finish her parts, so I came to play by myself.” I really wasn’t sure how a six year old spoke, but I got fully into the role. I looked down as I spoke and slowly moved my left foot slowly from side to side. It was as stereotypical as could be, but again, I was only going off what I remember as a kid and what I’d seen on TV.

Ms. Daniels’ angry face immediately softened. I was not prepared for the absolute look of joy on her face- the glow in her eyes and the sudden ear-to-ear smile, it was eerie. The bliss she displayed in seeing me act like Kaylee was unnatural. She reached down and tousled my hair. “That’s wonderful, Kaylee! I’m so happy to hear that. I’m not really mad at you. I know that children your age get bored easily. Poor thing. Let’s go see how your sister is doing. But first, I’ll help you pick a pretty new dress to wear.” She took my hand and dragged me toward the bedroom.