How Am I? by Alex

“How Am I?”

By Alex Bratton

Jamie’s Uncle

6/04

Once I dreamt that I had awakened in a land that was foreign to me, yet oddly familiar. And it seemed that the only thing that people did in this land was walk around and salute each other in a strange mono-syllabic language that appeared to have a vocabulary of only four words “how are you?”, which was apparently some kind do question, but that had only one answer “fine”. All day long endless “How are you?” were responded to with maddening certainty, with an infinitesimal string of “fines”. Usually without so much as eye-contact, the expressionless faces passed each other frozen cryogenically in time in this linguistic state of limbo.

I was becoming accustomed to this land of zombie like thoughtless interaction until one day, my path crossed that of a woman who seemed to be somewhat troubled, maybe even deeply hurt. I really wanted to ask her if she would possible like to share her pain, but what could I do. My only option was to hurl a “How are you?” at her and to wait for her mandatory “fine”.

Like a needle skipping across a record, came her impossible response. “Do you really want to know?” This wasn’t supposed to be.

Her never heard before yet instantly understood answer shocked everyone and all present turned their gaze in her direction. And then their faces began to take on distinct expressions. Some of them seem to be admiring this heroic figure, who dared to challenge the status quo of limited emotional interactivity. Yet other faces only scowled and seemed to be saying “I don’t know her”, sure that she and anyone associated with her would promptly be rounded up and hauled off to the camps to be “re-uneducated”.

"Well do you?” this woman continued to prod me. “Cause if you do I hope you have plenty of time".

So we sat and talked. And as we talked new worlds opened up before us. As I looked around there were small groups of people everywhere talking, comforting and consoling each other, though this was only one small hamlet. In the distance the din of “How are you’s?” and “fines” still wafted through the air.