Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\nEthics be damned, Mara was going to do whatever it took to change minds. Mathematic rigor, scientific evidence, even repeated verification by experiment, none of these convince as well as personal experience. It was the quest to make the experience of one person available to others that led to the device in front of her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The real question, of course, was how well the device would translate the experience of her thirty subjects for the wearer of the halo. She\u2019d try it herself, but she was already fitted with the prototype for the other half of the equation: an implanted interface that translated the signals of the brain to electrical impulses transmitted wirelessly to a receiver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mara smoothed her lab coat, her light brown fingers with bright red polish contrasting with its stark white. Her first subject was coming in; a fifty-three-year-old male with a highly conservative upbringing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood afternoon,\u201d Mara said, \u201cplease have a seat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded. \u201cMa\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust so we\u2019re clear, when we place the halo over your head, you are going to experience what someone else is experiencing, in real time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man shrugged. \u201cAs long as I get paid,\u201d he said, \u201cI can sit through almost anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mara smiled and placed the halo on his head. \u201cHere we go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen does it\u2026oh!\u201d His eyes closed and from the outside it looked like he was in REM sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
While he was under, Mara went over the questionnaire he\u2019d filled out the day before. She wondered which of the subjects he\u2019d be linked with. Every one of them was different, and there were no guarantees that any specific one was compatible with the person wearing the halo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
#<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFuck you, faggot!\u201d The two white men, one wearing a Confederate flag tee and the other sporting a collection of white supremacist tattoos, jeered at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Keith\u2019s heart raced. He knew he wasn\u2019t safe here, or anywhere really. This neighborhood was primarily black, like himself, but even his neighbors wouldn\u2019t lift a finger to help. Being black in America was hard, and even harder when you\u2019re openly gay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The litany of abuse he\u2019d encountered growing up played in the back of his mind. He was trying to determine the best course of action. It would probably be best if he rushed past them into the store. At least inside they weren\u2019t likely to assault him physically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he headed for the relative safety of the store, the men moved to block him. That\u2019s when another man stepped out the door of the store drinking a can of soda. Without hesitation he stepped between them. \u201cWhat is your major malfunction?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStay out of this,\u201d the one with the tattoos said, \u201cthis is between us and the fag nigger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI see,\u201d the man said. \u201cYou\u2019re just fucking morons.\u201d He dropped the soda he\u2019d been drinking and pointed at them. \u201cThis is your one warning. Walk away now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tattooed man took a swing at him. He ducked out of the way and followed with a uppercut that knocked tattoo on his rear. Flag tee grabbed him, and in a well-practiced move, he reversed the hold and threw flag tee to the ground. \u201cI said, walk away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Keith used the commotion to rush into the store. He felt awful for leaving the man to take care of them on his own but knew what would happen if police were to show up with him fighting a white man. Hell, any time police show up it\u2019s bad for a brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Keith stood by the rack of carts inside the door, trying to stop the shaking, when the man came back in the store. He was tall, at least six feet, with sharp features, his skin sun-touched and peachy, with medium-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and well-defined muscles Keith hadn\u2019t noticed at first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He placed a gentle hand on Keith\u2019s shoulder. \u201cYou okay?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2014thanks. I think I might be, now.\u201d The man\u2019s smell was intoxicating. Keith wanted nothing more than to hold the man, and let passion take them. He pushed the thought away as hard as he could. Acting on impulse like that had gotten him beaten once in high school, and he had no desire to repeat that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cListen, those idiots are sitting out there in their truck. How about I accompany you while you shop and make sure you get out of here safely?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cY\u2014you\u2019d do that for me?\u201d Keith asked. \u201cYou aren\u2019t afraid of what people will say when they see you with me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHell, no. Fuck them.\u201d He laughed and offered his hand to shake. \u201cI\u2019m David.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Keith shook his hand, being mindful to be \u201cmanly\u201d about it. Firm grip, don\u2019t hold it too long, god he smells good\u2026don\u2019t be creepy<\/em>. \u201cI\u2014I\u2019m Keith. How did you learn to fight like that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cNice to meet you, Keith.\u201d David gestured for Keith to head into the store proper. \u201cI\u2019m an amateur MMA fighter and I teach at the dojo over on 12th.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy did you help me?\u201d Keith asked. \u201cNot too many white dudes will stop to help a brother. Hell, not too many brothers will help a gay brother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI could try to sound all perfect and say that I\u2019m just a really good guy,\u201d he said with a shrug, \u201cbut you deserve the truth. My little brother\u2019s gay, and I\u2019ve had to protect him from bullies all his life, including our own father.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Keith knew all too well how that was. His own father had disowned him and kicked him out at sixteen when he came out. He didn\u2019t know how many times he\u2019d wished his father was right, that it was a \u201cchoice,\u201d or a \u201cphase.\u201d When he was younger, he\u2019d have given almost anything to be \u201cnormal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAs for the racist bullshit,\u201d David said, \u201cthere\u2019s nothing that shows ignorance faster than that. If I thought I was better than someone because of the color of their skin, I\u2019d be dead in the ring in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They made their way through the store, Keith grabbing essentials, and finding out more about each other, with David dropping not so subtle hints about Keith meeting his brother. Finally, David invited him for a barbecue on the weekend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou really want me to meet your brother,\u201d he said. \u201cWhy is that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou have it backwards,\u201d David said. \u201cI want him to meet you. His taste in men is\u2026not the greatest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, meeting your brother is the least I can do to repay you. I can\u2019t guarantee anything, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFair enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
#<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mara watched the man as tears ran down his face. Time was running out, but the signal remained strong and steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He came out of it with a gasp and wiped his face. He took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings, then his hands, which shook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTake your time,\u201d Mara said. \u201cComing back can be a little disorienting. Can you tell me who you were linked with?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was\u2026Keith Meadows.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cI mean, it felt<\/em> like I was him. The memories, the men, they were going to\u2014.\u201d He took another deep breath and blew it out. \u201cMy\u2026his<\/em> whole life, and he never gives up. He\u2019s so strong. I could never\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nMara helped him up and led him to the out-processing room where he would get snacks to help him reconnect with himself, and a follow-up questionnaire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After he had left, Mara called up his questionnaire to compare the before and after answers. The initial findings were promising. Where before he\u2019d thought racism was a limited problem, he now saw it as a systemic issue. He no longer considered homosexuality as something perverse or unnatural, but just the way some people were born.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His exit interview included the strongest indication of why this program might work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eyes red from crying, and still sniffling, he looked into the camera. \u201cUntil I was Keith, I had no idea just how deep racism in this country goes. It\u2019s not just the loud jerks like the two who attacked him, but the entire system. And without being a man feeling an attraction for another man, it\u2019s hard to imagine that being \u2018normal\u2019 or the default. Living it and knowing that it\u2019s who I am to the core made it clear, even though it wasn\u2019t really me. There\u2019s a part of me that still has a crush on my rescuer, David. I mean, Keith\u2019s rescuer. If you told me last week I\u2019d have a crush on a guy, I would have knocked you out. Now, it\u2019s just something that happened.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
prompt:\u00a0Write\u00a0about a character who can suddenly\u00a0see through another person’s eyes \u2014 literally. available at Reedsy Ethics be damned, Mara was going to do whatever it took to change minds. Mathematic rigor, scientific evidence, even repeated …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2281","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-AN","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2281","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2281"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2281\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2282,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2281\/revisions\/2282"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2281"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2281"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2281"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}