Inside the goggles, the lenses flip.
Junya hadn’t said anything to him. He’d been like the executioner, going about his work, impersonally, while the mob screamed and threw things. Yoshi remembers being afraid that he would pee himself. Because it seemed to be going on for quite a long time, and getting worse. It might have been getting to a point where stopping was not possible. Perhaps these Japanese boys were going to kill him, or worse, cut off one of his fingers. If they hit his head and caused brain damage, or cut off one of his fingers, then he would never be able to become an astronaut.
Inside the goggles, the lenses flip.
But they had let him go, eventually. His cap had been kicked around in some dirt, but it had not been taken. He had gone to practice and had hit the first ball pitched to him, sent it exactly as he meant to, between second and third, although he hadn’t even known until just before he swung that he had control over what the ball did off his bat, what angle, what height, what direction. Till then he had just tried to hit.
It all could be seen as a moment of adversity overcome: he had found his swing that day.
If one considered the incident at all, which one shouldn’t, it was a very ordinary tale of childhood bullying, much less worse than others he’d heard.
The screen turns gray, a signal that the program is complete. Yoshi takes the goggles off. He wonders if this has been the problem all along with the exercise, this suppressed memory of adolescent terror. Perhaps now that he understands the source of his anxiety, it will go away. He is tempted to test this, but he has sixty-four feelings to rank and his FIRO-B to fill out. He likes to get this done before breakfast.
Under Not at all Yoshi checkmarks: Sad, Tense, Angry, Worn out, Unhappy, Sorry for things done, Shaky, On edge, Listless, Grouchy, Blue, Panicky, Hopeless, Spiteful, Uneasy, Unable to, Discouraged, Annoyed, Resentful, Nervous, Lonely, Miserable, Muddled, Bitter, Exhausted, Anxious, Ready to fight, Gloomy, Desperate, Sluggish, Rebellious, Weary, Helpless, Bewildered, Deceived, Furious, Bad-tempered, Worthless, Forgetful, Terrified, Guilty, and Bushed.
There was a possibility of all these things occurring on a long-duration mission. Also: Brooding, Becoming melancholy, Dwelling on trifles.
Psychotic, even.
For A little Yoshi concedes to: Restless, and Uncertain about things.
He is not restless, or uncertain about things, but if he admits to no negative emotions, he will seem robotic or untruthful. A little restlessness would be natural for a person in confinement, and it is not a bad quality to be uncertain about things. Absolute certainty is the mark of a closed mind.
When Yoshi is asked many questions about how he feels, or who he is, he imagines a crystallization: his self changing from liquid to solid, acquiring precise geometries. This is usually pleasurable.
After a minute, Yoshi un-checks the box for Restless.
Moderate: Relaxed, Carefree.
If one is too relaxed and carefree, one is not being conscientious.
Everything else (Friendly, Considerate, Sympathetic, Clearheaded, Cheerful, Alert, etc.) he marks as either Quite a bit or Extremely.
Now he must do the fifty-three-question FIRO-B.
For questions 1–5 respond with the following choices: 1. Usually 2. Often 3. Sometimes 4. Occasionally 5. Rarely 6. Never
I try to have close relationships with people.
I let other people decide what I do.
I try to influence strongly other people’s actions.
I try to be included in informal social activities.
I tend to avoid being alone.
And so on. These questions are especially tedious.
Junya. The other boys had screamed and screamed and Junya had said nothing, merely held him against that wall, his cold-then-hot hand never varying pressure until some signal was given and Yoshi was released. It was fortunate that Yoshi had either enough common sense or some latent sense of his own cultural inheritance to endure without complaint.
He had proven that he could be one of them, whoever they were.
He is not enjoying the process of answering these questions. Today he feels his self to be a fungible thing; he cannot decide which parts are important, or even accurate. Yoshi looks at his watch. He’s been daydreaming. He will not get to have breakfast by himself. It’s not that Yoshi dislikes eating with other people, but he prefers to eat breakfast in silence. That is a luxury, though. This week, they are having fortified oatmeal for breakfast, in red bowls, while listening to Schubert’s piano sonatas played through a speaker in the Science/Lab wedge because food eaten in red bowls will increase the perception of sweetness, and the sound of a piano sonata in another room increases perception of space. Soporific technology: they will think they are eating a rich breakfast in a much larger habitat. Presumably, they will think this even though they know they are meant to think this.
The story of Junya is weighing on him a little. Perhaps describing it to Helen and Sergei would dissipate that, but it doesn’t seem quite appropriate. Exchanging personal stories is a delicate business in their circumstances. Disclosure can make another person uncomfortable; intimacy must be calibrated very finely. They do not wish to reveal anything that they will regret revealing because there will be nowhere to go with that feeling; no escaping whatever personae they have unveiled. Intimacy remorse is the term.