Chapter Four
The Red Tape Blues

Cameron could hear Rosa’s comments as they replayed the video of rollercoaster simulation. “¡Mierda! Look at that,” she said, letting slip one of her father’s favorite expletives.

“Yeah, the first hill must be 200 feet high,” Cameron replied.

“No, not that. Her hair! Look at her hair.”

After a few seconds of staring at the screen, it finally struck Cameron. He knew that Meagan Fletcher was sitting in a chair on the floor of a conference room at the WBN headquarters, but her hair was falling back towards the camera as they climbed the steep slope of the virtual roller coaster. “Dang!” exclaimed Cameron, matching Rosa’s excitement, if not her colorful language.

“Make Rosa full screen please, Sam.”

Part of the GundTech AI (Artificial Intelligence) programming required politeness and respect from a user. MultiCom personalities simply would not respond to rude orders or demands. This suited Cameron’s personality just fine. However, for many people, the level of courtesy demanded by the multiCom was hard to get used to. Consequently, some people resisted it all together and chose to bypass their AI personalities whenever they used their multiCom. It was said that the enigmatic creator of the software insisted on this feature. This made Cameron wonder if the inventor of the multiCom was a lot like him and Rosa. “Power” was the only command that didn’t require a “please” or a “thank you.”

Cameron’s multiCom obediently complied. Rosa’s image filled the large screen on Cameron’s wall. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Gracias, Vee,” Rosa was saying on the other end. Obviously, she had requested Cameron’s image to go to full screen as well. Rosa’s eyes were wide with wonder. “¡Mierda!”

“Ditto,” said Cameron, grinning.

“What do you think someone would need to do to get into the school they’re starting?” asked Rosa.

“I dunno, but wouldn’t it be neat if we both could get in?” said Cameron.

“Should we…?” they spoke in unison. Without replying to each other, they addressed their respective multiComs, Sam and Vee. “Go to mcn.IHTAcademy.sch, please. Inset message window.”

In an instant they were at the GundTech International Academy site on the multiCom network. “Thanks,” they said.

Words started to scroll over a field of stars that filled the screen.

After the last line of text faded from view, a registration form appeared.

Rosa spoke first, “Should we?” It wasn’t so much a question as an affirmation — the beginning of a brief ritual, in the form of a mock debate, designed to help justify what they were about to do.

“They only want our name, age, and home address,” said Cameron, building the slight argument needed for taking action.

“Maybe we should check with our parents first.” Again, it was merely a formality of the game, demonstrating their due consideration of parental authority. Rosa already knew what the answer would be.

“What can it hurt to just get an application?” This was offered by Cameron as the conclusion of the discussion.

“Nothing, I guess,” said Rosa with a feigned tone of resignation. “Let’s do it! Vee, fill in the requested information, por favor.”

Cameron made the same request of Sam. The forms were instantly filled with their names, birth dates, and home address.

The young man from Wisconsin and the young lady from New Mexico looked at each other’s image inset on their multiCom screens. Rosa nodded, then smiled, confident in their joint decision. Together, they said, “Send, please.”

Rosa sat alone in the rear of the bus. The ranch on which she lived was so far from town that she was the first person picked up in the morning and the last dropped off at night. Depending upon the weather, the ride could be anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour-and-a-half each way. The ride seemed to take forever this beautiful Monday afternoon, for Rosa’s mind was far away from New Mexico. She was daydreaming about the IHT Academy. Only a weekend had passed since she and Cameron submitted their names, but she had expected an email reply from the Academy by now — at least to say her name had been received. She checked with Vee almost every hour, all weekend long, but there was nothing. Cameron hadn’t received word either.

In the distance, she could see the large ranch house set about three-quarters of a mile off the main road. It sat atop the crest of a small ridge surrounded by an oasis of trees, which shaded its red-tiled roof and adobe walls. As they got closer, she could see the dust-trail of her father’s truck as it came down the long drive to pick her up. What would her parents think of her hopes to attend the academy?

The bus came to a halt at the junction of the main road and the ranch drive. Rosa got up and walked slowly to the front, lost in her thoughts. The driver, a Navajo woman in her late forties, watched her in the mirror. “Something wrong, Rosarita?” she asked as Rosa approached.

“Just thinking about things, Mrs. Tsossie,” said Rosa glumly.

“Not that again? Thinking? How terrible! Well then, think happy thoughts, little one.” Mrs. Tsossie smiled at Rosa and Rosa smiled back. “Here’s your Papa. Hágoónee’ Rosarita.”

“Hasta mañana, Mrs. Tsossie.”

The bus doors swung open and Rosa stepped down to the dirt road as the new red pickup with “Rancho Verde” painted on the doors came to the mouth of the drive. Mr. Costas waived his white straw hat out the window. “¡Hola! Mrs. Tsossie,” he called out as he swung the truck about in a U-turn.

“Yá’át’ééh,” the woman answered. “Rosa’s been thinking again, Bernardo. Just thought you should be warned.”

“Consider me warned. Muchas gracias, Mrs. Tsossie.” Mr. Costas laughed as Rosa opened the passenger door and got in. “C’mon, Rosa. No time to waste. We’ve got chores before dinner.” Dirt and stones flew in the air as the truck sped down the drive toward the sprawling hacienda. “So, what’ve you been thinkin’ bout, cara mia?”

Rosa was gazing out her window. “Nothing really, Papa… and everything… You know what I mean?”

Mr. Costas turned and looked at his daughter. He was amazed every time he stopped and looked at her. Rosa was no longer “just” his little girl. She was growing up, and he was getting to know this new, amazing person she was becoming. He turned his eyes back to the road. “Si,” he said wistfully. “I do understand.” He waited a moment then asked, “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No. Not now, at least.”

They drove silently up the hill towards the house. Mr. Costas turned off the main drive onto a side access road that went around the luxurious modern version of a classic New Mexico ranch house. Rosa could hear the children playing by the pool out back. When the truck came around the house, the two young boys and small girl stopped and waved. “Rosa, Rosa, Rosa,” shouted the little girl merrily. Rosa gave a small wave back as the truck proceeded down the backside of the hill.

A minute later, they pulled up to a modest house nestled among some cottonwoods and willows hugging the bank of a small river. Mama was standing inside the screen door, an apron tied around her waist. Mama had been cooking. Rosa could smell it as she approached the house. “Why are you waiting at the door, Mama?” Mrs. Costas’ eyes looked past Rosa at her father. Rosa turned to her Dad. “Is anything wrong?”

Her mother pushed open the screen door. “Come inside, Rosa.”

Rosa entered the house, followed closely by her dad who moved around Rosa and stood next to his wife. They stood silently, looking at their daughter.

Rosa was feeling anxious. “¿Por qué? What?”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” Papa motioned to the end table by the living room sofa.

Rosa’s eyes followed her father’s gesture and landed upon a package wrapped in shiny, white plastic bound in what looked like red ribbon. It was about eight inches wide and eleven inches long. Papers of some sort? The package was three or four inches thick. If it’s papers, there’s gotta be hundreds of them.

“A man from GundTech drove all the way from Albuquerque to bring you that,” said Mama. “He delivered it up at the main house, but Mrs. Holstein noticed it was for you and sent him down here.”

“Is that what you’ve been worrying about all weekend?” asked Papa. Rosa looked surprised. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how often you checked your machine. It was unusual, even for you.”

“It’s not a ‘machine,’ Papa,” said Rosa. “Vee is an AI. She can think for herself.”

Papa held up his hand in surrender, “I stand corrected. I wouldn’t want to hurt its feelings if it heard me calling it a machine. Your mama and I are very thankful the Holsteins had it installed for you. Anyway, is that what you’ve been thinking about?”

Rosa walked over to the table and lifted the packet. It was heavy. It’s gotta be papers — or maybe a large book. On closer inspection, the ribbon was not ribbon at all. It was red tape, which sealed the package and bound it firmly together.

“Well?” asked Mama.

“Uh, yes,” said Rosa.

Papa looked over her shoulder at the package. “What is it?”

“An application, I think,” said Rosa. She winced at the thought of an application several hundred pages long.

Mr. Costas looked amazed. “An application for what? I mean… that’s one heck of an application. What could require that much paper work?”

“Remember the GundTech announcement last Friday? You know, it was on the news.”

Mrs. Costas nodded, a faint smile showing.

“Si, we remember,” said Papa. “The news was filled with it.”
Mama placed her hand on the package and smiled at her daughter. “And you want to enroll in that academy they’re starting, don’t you?”

Rosa glanced from her mother to her father, then back to her mother. “Yes, Mama. I do. Cameron and me…”

“Cameron and I,” said Mama.

“Your virtual boyfriend and you…” Papa prodded.

Rosa glared at her Dad. “Cameron and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least get an application.”

“It most certainly would hurt if you dropped that thing on your foot or something,” said Mama. She and Rosa laughed at the thought.

Papa remained stern. “You know we can’t afford any sort of private school and I wouldn’t want to ask the Holsteins…”

Mrs. Costas cut off her husband, “Bernard, it’s free. If Rosa should happen to be accepted, it would be free.”

“Well, we couldn’t send her off to…”

“I wouldn’t go anyplace,” said Rosa. “Well, physically at least. I’d stay right here.”

Mr. Costas was at a loss for words. “What can I say? If you want to fill out a three hundred page application, the more power to you.” He looked at the package and shook his head in disbelief. “C’mon into the kitchen; we’ll help you sort it out.”

“Uh, thanks Papa.” Rosa hesitated. “I want to go over this with Cameron. Do you mind?”

“¡Me lo suponía! Go on!”

“I’ll call you for dinner,” said Mama as Rosa headed off towards her room, the package in hand.

Mr. Costas was bemused. “You know, I thought we had it bad our senior year because we lived at opposite ends of the county.”

Mrs. Costas took her husband’s hand. “But then we both went to NAU,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“But they’re not college students.”

“And they wouldn’t actually be together, Bernard.”

“What a strange world we live in.”

“And a wondrous one.”

“So, does this boy still think we own the ranch?”

“How can I know what he thinks?”

“Okay, Esmer. No games.” Bernardo gave her a stern look, which only elicited a chuckle from his wife. “Has she told him I’m just the ranch foreman?” Esmeralda Costas simply kissed her husband on the cheek, turned about, and padded into the kitchen. It was all he needed to know. Bernardo let out a long and deep sigh as he shook his head. “¡Mierda!”

Cameron had been sitting on his bed for almost two hours. The heavy package, still bound in white plastic and red tape, rested in his lap. “Incoming message from Rosa, Cameron.” Sam’s voice startled Cameron.

“Oh! Thanks, Sam. Put her on, please.”

Instead of Rosa’s face, the screen was filled with white plastic and red tape. “You got it!”

Rosa pulled the package back from the screen. “I knew you’d have one, too. You didn’t open it, did you?”

“Nope, it’s right here.” Cameron held his package towards his screen. There were no cameras, as such. A multiCom screen captured images as well as displayed them. That way you could actually make eye contact with the person to whom you were talking. It was said the young inventor of the multiCom insisted that users must be able to keep eye contact. “How many pages do you think?”

Rosa closed her eyes and weighed the package in her hand. “Three-fifty, I’d say.”

“Nah! You’re way off. It’s more like five hundred.”
Rosa eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Only one way to tell.”

“Yep,” said Cameron, his fingers anxiously squeezing the packet. “On three?”

“Right…on three,” said Rosa. “Uh, who’s counting?”

Cameron grinned. “Three,” he said suddenly.

“You rat!” Rosa tore at the red tape sealing the white plastic wrap. “Geez, this stuff is tough!”

“No duh! What I need is a scissors.” This posed a problem for Cameron. Cameron swept his eyes about the room. His bedroom was completely littered with piles of “stuff” that never quite seemed to get put away — well, almost completely littered. Cameron always made sure the part of his room that Rosa could see on screen was neat and tidy. However, this didn’t mean Cameron put the stuff from that part of the room away. It only meant that he shifted it to another part of the room. Rosa was already cutting at the tape on her package before Cameron could remember which pile contained his scissors.

Rosa shouted in triumph, “Voila! Who’s the fastest?” She looked up at her multiCom screen. She couldn’t see Cameron, but she could hear him digging around somewhere off-screen. “What’s the problem, Rush?” Cameron came back into view with pair of scissors in hand. “I bet the rest of your room is a mess. Isn’t it, Cheese Boy?” She could see Cameron’s face flush pink with embarrassment. “Vee, I seem to be having a color problem with my screen. Mr. Rush’s face seems to have shifted towards red. Could you check it please?”

“I assure you Rosa, the color sync is 99.86% accurate. Well within design specifications,” replied the not-quite-male, not-quite-female voice of Rosa’s multiCom. “Might I suggest the young man’s face has, in fact, shifted to the red end of the spectrum? Yes. I am sure. See. I have isolated his face from the background. Look. Even now his face is shifting more to the red, while the background has stayed true.”

“Thanks, Vee.” Rosa doubled up with laughter. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Guilty,” said Cameron, his eyes looking down in mock shame. “You’re a terrible person, you know.”

“That may be true, but at least I’m not a slob.”

“Okay, it’s agreed. You’re a tidy, terrible person.”

“Agreed! Now get your packet opened, will you, Cheese Boy?” Before Cameron had the wrapping off, Rosa spoke in a dejected tone, “We’re both wrong. The application is seven hundred and fifteen pages long! It’ll take us all summer just to read it and fill it out.”

Just as Cameron was pulling away the last of the red tape, he had a sudden realization. He started to chuckle.

“What are you laughing about? I’m sitting here feeling blue, and you’re sitting there chuckling.”

Cameron looked up at Rosa’s image. “Someone at the Academy has a sense of humor.”
Rosa looked puzzled.

“Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

Cameron hoisted the seven hundred and fifteen pages of forms to be filled out. “What do you call it when you have to fill out tons of forms like this?”

Rosa thought a moment then shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “I don’t know.” She watched as Cameron lifted a piece of the material that had bound the packet together. It struck her like a bolt of lightning.

“RED TAPE!”

© KB Shaw