The Subjects by Sarah Hopkins

Author:Sarah Hopkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Text Publishing
Published: 2019-06-03T23:00:00+00:00

Social Demography and Global Citizenship

At this point everything opened up in a way that had me searching for an underlying logic, some kind of universal algorithm around human connectivity, the domino effect of open doors.

While around us the evergreen bushland was unchanging, in the courtyard the pear trees were bare, leaving a last layer of crimson red leaves scattered on the pavers. In the morning when it was quiet the currawongs flew down to forage in the leaf litter and the benches got splattered in bird shit.

As for Rachel, my focus had been on making good on my undertaking to stop staring and to mind my own crap. My recent plunge into the world of brainwaves had made that a lot easier than I’d anticipated. Whenever she appeared in class or in the kitchen, even at the waterhole, I managed to hold my gaze steady and estimate the impact of her presence on my oscillations. The brain varied day to day; the heart was constant. All that was left was to wait, as I did each night, for her to take up my invitation and come to the courtyard.

Greg hand-delivered the first of my weekly reports.

‘As per your request,’ he said in a tone I disliked.

I thanked him (fuck you), closed the door and sat down on my bed with the orange envelope addressed to me, c/o the School. The document inside had a cover sheet with my name and date and a small image like a company logo: the bottom half of three blue capsules sprouting green leaves. The second page was a series of sketched headshots—aerial view—colour-coded and set out in table form, five by five, with horizontal and vertical descriptions cryptic enough for me to scan them and turn over into the explanatory text. In just over three pages, it addressed two things: my areas of high-level under-arousal, and my areas of high-level over-arousal. The fact that the lingo sounded more sexual than neural made me suspicious. Without reading on, I jumped up and performed my umpteenth search for hidden cameras in the area of the shower recess.

When I resumed my reading, my concerns were dispelled. This was strictly about my brain—and, more particularly, what personality traits my brainwaves were producing, or not producing. Nothing came as a surprise: in the domains of fogginess (their word), easily hurt feelings and low self-esteem, I barely rated; at the other end, I was pretty much off the scale in impatience, agitation, and holding of resentments (again, their term; I liked that one). By the final paragraph it was starting to read to me like one of Mary’s weekly horoscopes. And there was definitely an unfair focus on the surplus and deficits—too much, too little—but I wasn’t bothered, and Greg could go to hell. It was mine, my brain dysfunction, in my hands. I wouldn’t have let go of it for the world.

Outside of the report there was more. My growth spurt continued (another 4 mm over two weeks), and Rachel actively sought out my help with a calculus question after PW refused her any.

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