Equanimity

(Flash/ Science Fiction)

“It’s time,” Reema said, standing up from the table. Her voice betrayed no change in tone. She might be talking about any medical appointment, and not the most significant procedure our son was likely to undergo.

I was not surprised by Reema’s calm expression. I had chosen Reema to be my son’s mother in part due to her efficiency and practicality. She had chosen me to be her son’s father in part due to my comprehensive approach to problem-solving.

I did not feel anxious about the upcoming procedure. I had gone through the same thing myself when I was eleven, and my son was now twelve. But, I had a few purely theoretical questions, which I had been turning over in my mind.

What would happen if we delayed the procedure until it was legally required? Would it extend our son’s childhood in some way?

“I should go prepare him,” Reema said. When I did not respond, she remained standing next to the table. Knowing my nature, she expected me to pose a question.

“I was satisfied by the doctor’s explanation at the consult,” I said. “Afterward, I did wonder.if it might be possible to wait.”

“It’s safe any time after age ten,” Reema said, “and he is two years past the minimum. Why should we wait?”

“He hasn’t shown any sign of turbulent thoughts.”

“Should we not prevent such turbulence altogether?”

It was acceptable for children to demonstrate erratic behavior due to their immaturity; but, prior to adolescence, it was recommended the procedure be done to ensure equanimity of thought during adulthood. Fifteen was the maximum allowable age for those who chose to wait.

By having the procedure, the child growing into adolescence could avoid any tendency to addiction, self-generated emotion, ot brain-related instability. It was true that the emotional range of childhood would be truncated, but the benefits made the alteration worthwhile.

For a moment, I considered my son, who had a particularly happy nature. I would no longer hear him singing for no reason, as he often did, and his quick, excited speech would become slow in the manner of adults. Was I thinking about him or myself in posing this question about waiting?

“You’re right,” I said to Reema. “He is the correct age. It would not benefit him to wait.”

After she left the room, I found myself wondering, as my next question, what version of my son I would meet, when he emerged from the doctor’s chamber later that day, following the procedure.

Until next time.

[Here’s a link to three stories that include dark social themes:

The Prefect’s Table - Watershed - Equanimity]

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