Week 13: Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here
I thought it was just another day at work. Giving tours of the Temporal Lobe to groups of high schoolers, and a little bit of paperwork at the end of the day. Boy, was I wrong.
It started like any other day. I pulled into my usual spot at Brain Matters Laboratory. Got out of the car, hating my job like always. (I used to be in the laboratory, doing the important work, research. But then, I accidentally spill coffee on some slides, and I get demoted to giving tours to young punks.)
Maybe I should have realized today was going to be different when I saw Karl. He was at the sign that read: Days Since Our Last Fatality. I watched as he erased the "13" that was on the dry erase board under the sign, and wrote in 0.
"Bad start, Karl?"
I must have startled him; he jumped a bit, and looked at me. "Oh, hi Ernie." He glanced back at the sign and at me again. "Yeah. Some kid didn't finish all his juice before entrance. Supposedly he said it tastes like horse balls."
I rolled my eyes. "How does the schmuck even know what horse balls taste like?" I shook my head. "These idiots. We don't give them the juice for refreshment."
"You're preaching to the choir, Ernie. So anyway, Host 5 is out of commission for a while."
"Host 5? Ugh. That was my first tour today. Should I cancel? Is it too late?"
"It's probably too late to cancel." Karl pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, consulted it. Then, "Use Host 13."
"Yeah? The new one? Is she ready?"
"She signed all her releases yesterday."
"Thirteen it is. Good thing I'm not s superstitious man." I chuckled. "Oh, and since I'll have the first tour with this Host, I can name the locker room. I'll figure it out after the tour."
Carl and I parted ways. He went to his office, and I went to the locker rooms.
Before I continue, let me give you a quick explanation about the locker rooms. Each Host has a ready room, a locker room, and a portal. The tour guides do their spiels in the ready room. (Don't worry. You'll get to hear that soon.) After that, the participants in the tour head to the locker rooms. Above the door to the locker rooms is a sign with the name or a slogan of the locker room. We wanted to get creative, so instead of naming them after the host, we name them for something that represents the host. For example, Host 5, the one I was supposed to have today, her locker room name is, "Sweet Sweet Music." She was a music teacher, and most of her memories include music. I never got to name a locker room before, so I'm a bit excited about the opportunity.
Anyway, back to the story. I changed into my Shrink Suit, and headed up to the Ready Room. It's a decent sized room. It can fit up to 30 people. There are rows of chairs facing a big screen television, and a few cabinets. Before my spiel, the students watch a brief video on the Temporal Lobe and its functions.
As I was checking that the cabinets were fully stocked, a group of students and a few teachers filed into the Ready Room.
"Welcome, Guys! Take a seat. I'm your tour guide, Ernie. Before we start, I want to ask, who has never done a brain tour?" All the students raised their hands. "All right. A room full of virgins!" As expected, I got a reaction mixed of snorts (mostly the boys), blushes (mostly the girls), and looks of horror (all the teachers). "Well," I continued, I'm going to show you a quick video, then I'll go over safety, and then I'll send you off to the locker room to prepare. Any questions?" No one spoke. They never have questions at this point. I started the video.
I've been told that when I play the video, it's like a switch gets flipped. I go from pleasant--sometimes down right nice--to gruff. Maybe a little grumpy. I've had people ask what it is about the video that changes my mood, my demeanor, so dramatically. The answer is nothing. There's nothing in the video that causes this change. It’s the dumb punks watching it.
See, I don't need to watch the video anymore. I've memorized it. So, while it plays, I survey the room. What do I see? These little idiots playing on their phones. Ignoring the video. Oh, not all of them are putzing on their phones. No. There are some with their eyes closed, like they're catching a few extra winks.
After the video, I asked for the release forms. (When a school plans a trip here, we provide them with booklets for their students to bring home to their parents. The booklets explain what we do, and what the tours entail. At the back is a release form, kind of like a permission slip, for the parents to sign. It basically says that they will not hold Brain Matters Laboratory or it's associated liable if their child were to die, become injured, or physically/mentally scarred for the rest of their life.) I like to call out the names on the permission slips, and have each person I call step to the front. That way we can see if there are any stowaways. On this particular day, the slips matched the students.
When roll call was finished, I opened one of the cabinets and point the prepared vials. "In a minute, I'll be handing out these vials to all of you. All of you need to drink the all the juice in the vial. I don't care if you think it tastes like horse balls. It has to be drunk." More looks of horror. I may need to permanently add that to my spiel, I thought.
"After your vial is empty, you will head downstairs to the locker room. Once there you will change into one of these," I pointed to the silver shrink suit I was wearing. "Don't worry about the size. We only have two sizes. Too big and don't fit. My advice? Choose the too big."
"Excuse me," interrupted a girl. "Do we have a choice of colors? If so, I'd really love baby blue."
"Oh, I want a green," said another student.
"Gold would be sweet," another.
"Quiet!" I yelled. Stupid teenagers. "We only have this one color. Don't worry. It looks horrible on everyone." I heard a few disappointed sighs, and a chuckle. The laugh must have come from a teacher. They're probably sick of these kids, too.
"Anyway. As you would expect to find in a locker room are lockers. Please lock your clothing, valuables, and electronics up. Before anyone asks, electronics includes phone. We can shrink humans, we cannot shrink phones. Do you really want to be crushed by your phone?"
As usual, I paused here. Let that visual sink in. "In each locker," I continued, there will be a box of unscented wipes. If you are wearing anything with a fragrance: perfume, cologne, deodorant, body spray, lotion, anything that is not your natural scent, wipe it off. We do not want to trigger the host or alter her memories."
Everyone nodded and had a slightly terrified look on their face. This always happens the first time I mention the host. I think that's the point they realize that they are really about to enter a human brain.
"In a minute, I will take questions. But first let me give the answer to the most frequently asked questions. The locker room has two sections, Male and Female. No one is doing a genitalia check. Use the one you feel most comfortable in. If you want privacy while you change, there are bathrooms and changing rooms with locks. If the wipes we provide are not removing the scent of whatever is on you, we have showers. We provide unscented soap and clean towels. After drinking the vials you have approximately thirty minutes to prepare. You will not shrink in the locker room. The liquid is only step one and it takes a half hour to get into your blood stream. After you are ready, in your shrink suits, scent-free, electronic-free, jewelry-free, follow the signs to the portal."
I stopped and eye the room. "Does anyone have any questions?"
A boy raised his hand. He had a smirk on his face that I didn't trust. I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. "Yeah. Are we going to have control of her hands? Can we get her to pick her nose? Or flick her bean or something?"
"Bradley," snapped a teacher.
These freaking kids. "Motor function is in the Frontal Lobe. We are touring the Temporal Lobe. Any other questions?"
I was answered with murmurs of "No," and shakes of the head. "Okay. When I call your name come up and take a vial. Do not drink until I tell you, too." Again, I called out names on the permission slips, and handed each student a vial when they came up to me. Lastly, I passed out vials to the teachers. I took a vial and raised it, "To a memorable tour of the brain. Bottoms up!" I drank my vial completely. I could feel all the eyes in the room scrutinizing me. Trying to figure out if I changed in any way. No one drank yet. "Well, go on now. Drink up. All of it." I watched as everyone drank their juice. I heard some gagging, and some dry heaves. "Keep it down! If you puke, you'll have to drink another vial. Now, go to the locker room. When you're ready, meet me in the portal."
Because, I was ready, I headed down to the portal to wait. As always, when I'm alone in the portal, I start thinking about thinking about the things in my life that brought me here. That damn trip to Dunkin Donuts. I always blame DD first. Sometimes I go back and blame my kindergarten teacher. I don't remember her name, but I remember her saying I could be anything I wanted to be. Stupid bitch. Yeah, I can be anything I want to be until I accidentally spill coffee on some microscope slides. Why didn't she warn me about that? She should have said, "You can be anything you want to be, as long as you don't spill your cup of joe." And at that point, I start blaming every Joe I ever knew.
The blame game can provide hours of entertainment. In my case, though, I only needed thirty minutes. The students and the teachers trickled into the portal, all with a deer in headlights look. I looked at my watch. Thirty two minutes. I did one last roll call to make sure we had everyone. All present.
"All right, Guys," I begin. "In a minute there will be blue beams coming out from the walls. This is the final step in the shrinking process. Don't worry. The beams are calibrated so we all shrink to the correct size. Remember the juice we drank a half hour ago? That is formulated to insure we stay small while in the brain. Oh! And one more thing. Stay completely still until everyone has been shrunk. It will take a couple minutes, and some people shrink faster than others. I don't want you guys wiping off classmates from the bottom of your Shrink Suits. Now, I'm turning the beam on in 3...2...1." I flipped a switch on the wall next to me, and blue streaks shoot from each side of the room.
It took about five minutes for everyone to shrink. I know what you're thinking, and stop it. No one had a chipmunk voice. Everyone sounded the same as when they were full height, maybe just a littler quieter.
After shrinkage, we exit the portal through a small door, follow a long hallway, and get on a mini-elevator. I pull out my little walkie-talkie (it's made tiny for these tours) and let the Insertion Tech know we are on our way.
As the elevator rose, I explained to everyone what to expect. "We are going to be loaded into a syringe, and shot into the Host's brain. She will feel a little bit of pressure. We will be tumbling around like gymnast.
"When a Host signs up with us, they fill out a questionnaire. We ask some questions like 'What songs make you nostalgic?' 'What scent reminds you of your childhood?' We want to know what will evoke emotions or memories. When we are in the Temporal Lobe, the tech will play the songs, and clips of television shows and movies for the Host to get these memories and feelings where we can experience them. The grand finale is scent. That seems to always get a strong reaction."
The elevator ride was, and is always a long one. But it gives me a chance to give that explanation. The next minute or so is usually quiet.
Because of our size, the techs don't always notice when we get to them. So, I called him on the radio to him know we're here. "Great," the tech answers. Get in the dish."
(The elevator leads to a desk, which has a petri dish that we all have to get into so we can be sucked into the syringe.) Some Techs have us climb into the dish. It pisses me off. Not everyone has the upper body strength to pull themselves in. But, we had Troy. He's one of the good ones. He'll put a cloth in the bottom of the dish, and put the dish on its side. So, not only is it easier to get in, but it's a softened landing when he puts the dish right side up.
I'm always the last in the group to get in the dish. That way I can count to make sure we're not missing anyone. When we're all in, I let Troy know that we're good to go. He gently put the petri dish right side up. "Is everyone ready?" I asked the group. There were a lot of nods. "Okay Troy, let's do it."
In less than thirty seconds we go from in the petri dish, to in the syringe, to into the Host's brain.
The look of amazement on everyone's faces almost makes this crappy job worthwhile. Almost. (Lord knows what all the juice and blue beams are going to do to me in the next 20 years.)
"Welcome to the Temporal Lobe!" I said to the group. "Our Tech Troy will start soon."
I barely finished that last sentence when we heard music. But it wasn't what I was expecting. Usually the songs are happy and upbeat. This song was incredibly sad. As a group, we could see the memory that this song was triggering for the host. There was a man, yelling at her, grabbing her and shaking her by the shoulders. Over the music, we heard his echoey voice, "Are you a fucking idiot? I'm done. Good bye." We all saw him walk out of and slam a door. There were loud sobs, as the line of sight got lower. We all felt her tears.
I looked around at the group. Some girls were wiping tears off their cheeks. A lot of people looked uncomfortable. I think the reaction I identified with was shock. In all the tours I've done, we experienced happy memories. Once there was fear before joy (it was a man who went skydiving for the first time.)
I called to Troy on the radio. "Hey, try a different song. We're witnessing a break up, up here."
The sad song was replaced by a different song. This one didn't sound sad, but it didn't sound upbeat either. It was a lot of yelling. I couldn't understand a word. I don't really want to.
A new memory played for us. It looked like the host was at a party in a dimly lit apartment. There were white clouds all around. Puffs of smoke from cigarettes or joints. Probably both. The host is searching the party for someone. We feel the urgency as she maneuvers through a maze of empty beer cans. We all feel the sense of dread as she opens a door. On the other side of the door are a man and a woman clearly having sex. We all feel a punch in the gut at this. Again we feel her tears.
I look at the group. Mostly the same expressions as before, except now there are looks of horror from the teachers. "Hey, Troy," I called on the walkie. "Yeah we just saw what I assume was the Host getting cheated on. Try something else."
I can't tell you how long we were in there. But it felt like an eternity. One miserable memory after another. We saw more cheating boyfriends. We saw her mother leave her, her father pass away. We saw her getting bullied for years.
The worst thing was we not only saw these things we felt them. Each cheating boyfriend broke a piece of our hearts. When her mother left we felt the worthlessness, the disappointment.
At one point, I looked at the group. We were a mess. Everyone was crying. There were a couple kids sitting down, holding their knees to their chests, rocking back and forth. A lot of kids were covering their ears, with their eyes squeezed shut, trying to shut out the memories.
"Hey, Troy. I don't know what audio or visual you have left, but let's go right to scent. We need to wrap this up. These kids are going to need therapy for someone else's problems."
Suddenly, the scent of pine filled our nostrils. We saw a large tree on a dark night. We all felt a chill. Must have been a cold night. The overwhelming sadness was still there. But now there was a sliver of some other feeling. Excitement? Relief? Anticipation? We watched and our line of sight moved up. She was climbing something. Then we saw her hands throw a rope over a branch of the tree.
"Oh for Christ sakes," said one of the teachers. "We're reliving this girl's suicide attempt."
"Troy, abort. Get us out of here. Now!"
We were extracted pretty quickly. After that, the rest of my time with this group was a blur. I know we had to have gone back to the portal, where I would have flipped the tiny switch by the floor for the beams to turn on again. I don't remember anyone talking. I think there were some sobs, though. I remember waving to the group, back to their original size, as they went back to the locker rooms. Did I say, "Hope to see you soon" like I always do? I don't know. Doesn't matter. It's always a lie, anyway. Besides, I don't think we could pay them to come back.
After the class left, I went to find Karl. "Hey, Ernie," he said when I found him. “How did Host 13 do?"
I started to answer, but Karl continued. "I was a bit worried about that one. We didn't have time to do much of a background check on her. We needed a Host after Five went down."
That explained a lot.
"So, Ernie, have you thought of a name or a slogan for the Host 13 locker room?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well, what is it? We'll want to make a sign."
"Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here."
It started like any other day. I pulled into my usual spot at Brain Matters Laboratory. Got out of the car, hating my job like always. (I used to be in the laboratory, doing the important work, research. But then, I accidentally spill coffee on some slides, and I get demoted to giving tours to young punks.)
Maybe I should have realized today was going to be different when I saw Karl. He was at the sign that read: Days Since Our Last Fatality. I watched as he erased the "13" that was on the dry erase board under the sign, and wrote in 0.
"Bad start, Karl?"
I must have startled him; he jumped a bit, and looked at me. "Oh, hi Ernie." He glanced back at the sign and at me again. "Yeah. Some kid didn't finish all his juice before entrance. Supposedly he said it tastes like horse balls."
I rolled my eyes. "How does the schmuck even know what horse balls taste like?" I shook my head. "These idiots. We don't give them the juice for refreshment."
"You're preaching to the choir, Ernie. So anyway, Host 5 is out of commission for a while."
"Host 5? Ugh. That was my first tour today. Should I cancel? Is it too late?"
"It's probably too late to cancel." Karl pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, consulted it. Then, "Use Host 13."
"Yeah? The new one? Is she ready?"
"She signed all her releases yesterday."
"Thirteen it is. Good thing I'm not s superstitious man." I chuckled. "Oh, and since I'll have the first tour with this Host, I can name the locker room. I'll figure it out after the tour."
Carl and I parted ways. He went to his office, and I went to the locker rooms.
Before I continue, let me give you a quick explanation about the locker rooms. Each Host has a ready room, a locker room, and a portal. The tour guides do their spiels in the ready room. (Don't worry. You'll get to hear that soon.) After that, the participants in the tour head to the locker rooms. Above the door to the locker rooms is a sign with the name or a slogan of the locker room. We wanted to get creative, so instead of naming them after the host, we name them for something that represents the host. For example, Host 5, the one I was supposed to have today, her locker room name is, "Sweet Sweet Music." She was a music teacher, and most of her memories include music. I never got to name a locker room before, so I'm a bit excited about the opportunity.
Anyway, back to the story. I changed into my Shrink Suit, and headed up to the Ready Room. It's a decent sized room. It can fit up to 30 people. There are rows of chairs facing a big screen television, and a few cabinets. Before my spiel, the students watch a brief video on the Temporal Lobe and its functions.
As I was checking that the cabinets were fully stocked, a group of students and a few teachers filed into the Ready Room.
"Welcome, Guys! Take a seat. I'm your tour guide, Ernie. Before we start, I want to ask, who has never done a brain tour?" All the students raised their hands. "All right. A room full of virgins!" As expected, I got a reaction mixed of snorts (mostly the boys), blushes (mostly the girls), and looks of horror (all the teachers). "Well," I continued, I'm going to show you a quick video, then I'll go over safety, and then I'll send you off to the locker room to prepare. Any questions?" No one spoke. They never have questions at this point. I started the video.
I've been told that when I play the video, it's like a switch gets flipped. I go from pleasant--sometimes down right nice--to gruff. Maybe a little grumpy. I've had people ask what it is about the video that changes my mood, my demeanor, so dramatically. The answer is nothing. There's nothing in the video that causes this change. It’s the dumb punks watching it.
See, I don't need to watch the video anymore. I've memorized it. So, while it plays, I survey the room. What do I see? These little idiots playing on their phones. Ignoring the video. Oh, not all of them are putzing on their phones. No. There are some with their eyes closed, like they're catching a few extra winks.
After the video, I asked for the release forms. (When a school plans a trip here, we provide them with booklets for their students to bring home to their parents. The booklets explain what we do, and what the tours entail. At the back is a release form, kind of like a permission slip, for the parents to sign. It basically says that they will not hold Brain Matters Laboratory or it's associated liable if their child were to die, become injured, or physically/mentally scarred for the rest of their life.) I like to call out the names on the permission slips, and have each person I call step to the front. That way we can see if there are any stowaways. On this particular day, the slips matched the students.
When roll call was finished, I opened one of the cabinets and point the prepared vials. "In a minute, I'll be handing out these vials to all of you. All of you need to drink the all the juice in the vial. I don't care if you think it tastes like horse balls. It has to be drunk." More looks of horror. I may need to permanently add that to my spiel, I thought.
"After your vial is empty, you will head downstairs to the locker room. Once there you will change into one of these," I pointed to the silver shrink suit I was wearing. "Don't worry about the size. We only have two sizes. Too big and don't fit. My advice? Choose the too big."
"Excuse me," interrupted a girl. "Do we have a choice of colors? If so, I'd really love baby blue."
"Oh, I want a green," said another student.
"Gold would be sweet," another.
"Quiet!" I yelled. Stupid teenagers. "We only have this one color. Don't worry. It looks horrible on everyone." I heard a few disappointed sighs, and a chuckle. The laugh must have come from a teacher. They're probably sick of these kids, too.
"Anyway. As you would expect to find in a locker room are lockers. Please lock your clothing, valuables, and electronics up. Before anyone asks, electronics includes phone. We can shrink humans, we cannot shrink phones. Do you really want to be crushed by your phone?"
As usual, I paused here. Let that visual sink in. "In each locker," I continued, there will be a box of unscented wipes. If you are wearing anything with a fragrance: perfume, cologne, deodorant, body spray, lotion, anything that is not your natural scent, wipe it off. We do not want to trigger the host or alter her memories."
Everyone nodded and had a slightly terrified look on their face. This always happens the first time I mention the host. I think that's the point they realize that they are really about to enter a human brain.
"In a minute, I will take questions. But first let me give the answer to the most frequently asked questions. The locker room has two sections, Male and Female. No one is doing a genitalia check. Use the one you feel most comfortable in. If you want privacy while you change, there are bathrooms and changing rooms with locks. If the wipes we provide are not removing the scent of whatever is on you, we have showers. We provide unscented soap and clean towels. After drinking the vials you have approximately thirty minutes to prepare. You will not shrink in the locker room. The liquid is only step one and it takes a half hour to get into your blood stream. After you are ready, in your shrink suits, scent-free, electronic-free, jewelry-free, follow the signs to the portal."
I stopped and eye the room. "Does anyone have any questions?"
A boy raised his hand. He had a smirk on his face that I didn't trust. I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. "Yeah. Are we going to have control of her hands? Can we get her to pick her nose? Or flick her bean or something?"
"Bradley," snapped a teacher.
These freaking kids. "Motor function is in the Frontal Lobe. We are touring the Temporal Lobe. Any other questions?"
I was answered with murmurs of "No," and shakes of the head. "Okay. When I call your name come up and take a vial. Do not drink until I tell you, too." Again, I called out names on the permission slips, and handed each student a vial when they came up to me. Lastly, I passed out vials to the teachers. I took a vial and raised it, "To a memorable tour of the brain. Bottoms up!" I drank my vial completely. I could feel all the eyes in the room scrutinizing me. Trying to figure out if I changed in any way. No one drank yet. "Well, go on now. Drink up. All of it." I watched as everyone drank their juice. I heard some gagging, and some dry heaves. "Keep it down! If you puke, you'll have to drink another vial. Now, go to the locker room. When you're ready, meet me in the portal."
Because, I was ready, I headed down to the portal to wait. As always, when I'm alone in the portal, I start thinking about thinking about the things in my life that brought me here. That damn trip to Dunkin Donuts. I always blame DD first. Sometimes I go back and blame my kindergarten teacher. I don't remember her name, but I remember her saying I could be anything I wanted to be. Stupid bitch. Yeah, I can be anything I want to be until I accidentally spill coffee on some microscope slides. Why didn't she warn me about that? She should have said, "You can be anything you want to be, as long as you don't spill your cup of joe." And at that point, I start blaming every Joe I ever knew.
The blame game can provide hours of entertainment. In my case, though, I only needed thirty minutes. The students and the teachers trickled into the portal, all with a deer in headlights look. I looked at my watch. Thirty two minutes. I did one last roll call to make sure we had everyone. All present.
"All right, Guys," I begin. "In a minute there will be blue beams coming out from the walls. This is the final step in the shrinking process. Don't worry. The beams are calibrated so we all shrink to the correct size. Remember the juice we drank a half hour ago? That is formulated to insure we stay small while in the brain. Oh! And one more thing. Stay completely still until everyone has been shrunk. It will take a couple minutes, and some people shrink faster than others. I don't want you guys wiping off classmates from the bottom of your Shrink Suits. Now, I'm turning the beam on in 3...2...1." I flipped a switch on the wall next to me, and blue streaks shoot from each side of the room.
It took about five minutes for everyone to shrink. I know what you're thinking, and stop it. No one had a chipmunk voice. Everyone sounded the same as when they were full height, maybe just a littler quieter.
After shrinkage, we exit the portal through a small door, follow a long hallway, and get on a mini-elevator. I pull out my little walkie-talkie (it's made tiny for these tours) and let the Insertion Tech know we are on our way.
As the elevator rose, I explained to everyone what to expect. "We are going to be loaded into a syringe, and shot into the Host's brain. She will feel a little bit of pressure. We will be tumbling around like gymnast.
"When a Host signs up with us, they fill out a questionnaire. We ask some questions like 'What songs make you nostalgic?' 'What scent reminds you of your childhood?' We want to know what will evoke emotions or memories. When we are in the Temporal Lobe, the tech will play the songs, and clips of television shows and movies for the Host to get these memories and feelings where we can experience them. The grand finale is scent. That seems to always get a strong reaction."
The elevator ride was, and is always a long one. But it gives me a chance to give that explanation. The next minute or so is usually quiet.
Because of our size, the techs don't always notice when we get to them. So, I called him on the radio to him know we're here. "Great," the tech answers. Get in the dish."
(The elevator leads to a desk, which has a petri dish that we all have to get into so we can be sucked into the syringe.) Some Techs have us climb into the dish. It pisses me off. Not everyone has the upper body strength to pull themselves in. But, we had Troy. He's one of the good ones. He'll put a cloth in the bottom of the dish, and put the dish on its side. So, not only is it easier to get in, but it's a softened landing when he puts the dish right side up.
I'm always the last in the group to get in the dish. That way I can count to make sure we're not missing anyone. When we're all in, I let Troy know that we're good to go. He gently put the petri dish right side up. "Is everyone ready?" I asked the group. There were a lot of nods. "Okay Troy, let's do it."
In less than thirty seconds we go from in the petri dish, to in the syringe, to into the Host's brain.
The look of amazement on everyone's faces almost makes this crappy job worthwhile. Almost. (Lord knows what all the juice and blue beams are going to do to me in the next 20 years.)
"Welcome to the Temporal Lobe!" I said to the group. "Our Tech Troy will start soon."
I barely finished that last sentence when we heard music. But it wasn't what I was expecting. Usually the songs are happy and upbeat. This song was incredibly sad. As a group, we could see the memory that this song was triggering for the host. There was a man, yelling at her, grabbing her and shaking her by the shoulders. Over the music, we heard his echoey voice, "Are you a fucking idiot? I'm done. Good bye." We all saw him walk out of and slam a door. There were loud sobs, as the line of sight got lower. We all felt her tears.
I looked around at the group. Some girls were wiping tears off their cheeks. A lot of people looked uncomfortable. I think the reaction I identified with was shock. In all the tours I've done, we experienced happy memories. Once there was fear before joy (it was a man who went skydiving for the first time.)
I called to Troy on the radio. "Hey, try a different song. We're witnessing a break up, up here."
The sad song was replaced by a different song. This one didn't sound sad, but it didn't sound upbeat either. It was a lot of yelling. I couldn't understand a word. I don't really want to.
A new memory played for us. It looked like the host was at a party in a dimly lit apartment. There were white clouds all around. Puffs of smoke from cigarettes or joints. Probably both. The host is searching the party for someone. We feel the urgency as she maneuvers through a maze of empty beer cans. We all feel the sense of dread as she opens a door. On the other side of the door are a man and a woman clearly having sex. We all feel a punch in the gut at this. Again we feel her tears.
I look at the group. Mostly the same expressions as before, except now there are looks of horror from the teachers. "Hey, Troy," I called on the walkie. "Yeah we just saw what I assume was the Host getting cheated on. Try something else."
I can't tell you how long we were in there. But it felt like an eternity. One miserable memory after another. We saw more cheating boyfriends. We saw her mother leave her, her father pass away. We saw her getting bullied for years.
The worst thing was we not only saw these things we felt them. Each cheating boyfriend broke a piece of our hearts. When her mother left we felt the worthlessness, the disappointment.
At one point, I looked at the group. We were a mess. Everyone was crying. There were a couple kids sitting down, holding their knees to their chests, rocking back and forth. A lot of kids were covering their ears, with their eyes squeezed shut, trying to shut out the memories.
"Hey, Troy. I don't know what audio or visual you have left, but let's go right to scent. We need to wrap this up. These kids are going to need therapy for someone else's problems."
Suddenly, the scent of pine filled our nostrils. We saw a large tree on a dark night. We all felt a chill. Must have been a cold night. The overwhelming sadness was still there. But now there was a sliver of some other feeling. Excitement? Relief? Anticipation? We watched and our line of sight moved up. She was climbing something. Then we saw her hands throw a rope over a branch of the tree.
"Oh for Christ sakes," said one of the teachers. "We're reliving this girl's suicide attempt."
"Troy, abort. Get us out of here. Now!"
We were extracted pretty quickly. After that, the rest of my time with this group was a blur. I know we had to have gone back to the portal, where I would have flipped the tiny switch by the floor for the beams to turn on again. I don't remember anyone talking. I think there were some sobs, though. I remember waving to the group, back to their original size, as they went back to the locker rooms. Did I say, "Hope to see you soon" like I always do? I don't know. Doesn't matter. It's always a lie, anyway. Besides, I don't think we could pay them to come back.
After the class left, I went to find Karl. "Hey, Ernie," he said when I found him. “How did Host 13 do?"
I started to answer, but Karl continued. "I was a bit worried about that one. We didn't have time to do much of a background check on her. We needed a Host after Five went down."
That explained a lot.
"So, Ernie, have you thought of a name or a slogan for the Host 13 locker room?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well, what is it? We'll want to make a sign."
"Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here."