🍅 Vegetables

I only called Alaina once. I guess that’s why she let me live, unlike Wekesa.

My daughter, whom I sent on an expedition for her phone number, was convinced I needed it for academic purposes. “High school Physics sometimes needs after-hours attention,” I had told Violet to justify the bizarre request. She takes after her mother’s intelligence, so she believed me and dutifully went fishing.

Alaina was by far the brightest student in my class. She was quick to answer even the toughest questions, going so far as to fire back with pointed ones of her own. I would’ve stayed at Pure Blood if not for the greener pastures. No matter, modern technology allowed me to leave her a little gift.

“Hey, Alaina. This is Mr. Ben. Physics.”

“Oh, hey, Mr. Ben. Sorry for that silence. I usually don’t like talking to strangers.”

“Can we switch to video call? Call me old-fashioned, but I feel disoriented talking without seeing you on the other end.”

“Um, okay. Do you want to talk about that end-of-term exam? I know I performed poorly. It was super tough.”

“No, I don’t mind what happened in the exam. You were still onto something in many of the questions.”

“Is ’being onto something’ really enough?”

“You’re brilliant, Alaina. You know that? And beautiful to boot. I’ll miss you when I’m gone. I mean, I’ll miss teaching you.”

“Oh, thanks, Mr. Ben. The class will miss you, too. All the best at your new posting.”

“Do you remember that time in class when I used spatial mapping to describe the dimensions of an attractive face?”

“Uh, yes, I vaguely remember that lesson.”

“I bet you didn’t know I based the rendering on your face.”

Her light cheeks turned pink, and she averted my eyes.

“Hmm. Mr. Ben? I’m losing you. I’m at my grandma's, and the network here is spotty. Goodbye, and good luck.”

Bingo. The smarty skirt was entirely embarrassed, and I was entirely aroused. A whole new world opened up when I discovered this proclivity. I tried to keep them juvenile, but above Violet’s age and IQ, a Goldilocks zone Pure Blood unwittingly helped me reach. Plus, the more demure, the better. The truly brilliant ones dared not report me; they had more to lose. As the video call recording played, I rubbed one off and deliberated over my next target.

Alaina and I were bound to meet again. She was more robust and self-assured, but I could still spot the schoolgirl I had known and loved to humiliate. The symposium was a drag, so she offered to show me a watershed biomedical device she’d been working on. Her intricate explanation of the model reminded me of the star student I had identified eight years ago. I weighed the possibility that the device was code for something more exciting. Regardless, I’d be getting lucky today.

We conversed pleasantly but mundanely on the drive through the winding Alps. Anticipation distracted me from the rapidly decreasing number of tourists along the road.

When her quaint, unassuming lab came into view, I felt a fatherly fulfillment for her achievements. I stepped in, and she flicked on the light, revealing an ultrawide OLED screen, a pair of overhead speakers, and a dental chair hooked to a maze of machines and cables.

She said she’d pre-recorded a brief presentation about her brainchild. There was only one other seat at her work desk, so I plopped down on the plush dental chair. She asks if I’m comfortable as she adjusts my headrest and secures my extremities with buckles I hadn’t noticed before. She’s developed some kinks of her own. I smirk in approval.

Abruptly, she steps away and reaches for the remote on her desk, turning on the screen. I can work with mixed signals, just as I intend to work her. Maybe she wants the stereo sound to obscure our moans. My blood rushes south.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Ben. This is Alaina, and mine is the last face you’ll see before you turn into a vegetable.”