Christmas Dinner 2065 by James Rumpel
Christmas is coming up, so it's time for Chuck and Amy to revive their parents from cryosleep again.
"Okay, we'll have your parents out shortly," the company representative announced.
"That's great," said Chuck. "We have to have them back by 5:00 Monday, correct?"
The rep checked some data on his tablet. "Yes, that's right," he replied, "but there is something else we need to take care of."
"What?" asked Chuck's wife, Amy.
"Your Uncle Mike."
"We'd prefer to leave him," said Chuck. "We're just having a small Christmas. We don't need Uncle Mike there."
"You have to do something with him," explained the rep. "The contract clearly states that each enrollee must be revived at least once every five years. It's necessary for updating and system maintenance."
Amy shook her head. "I don't know why we included Mike when we purchased the package for your parents."
"Dad insisted. Mike doesn't have a family of his own."
"What happens if we just leave him?" asked Amy
The rep, who looked too young to have any job, let alone be a representative for the largest cryogenic holding firm in the country, tapped his tablet a couple of times, then turned the screen toward Chuck and Amy, letting them see the number flashing at the bottom. "As you can see. There is a significant financial penalty for noncompliance. You may also be putting your parents' position at risk." He glanced to his right and left before whispering, "There's a long waiting list for positions, and most of the people waiting are willing to pay a lot more than what the original holding fees were."
Chuck stared at Amy, who glared back at him. Finally, she rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, you can get Mike out too."
Chuck and Amy's condominium did not give off much of a Christmas vibe. The only decorations were a small, silver tree with blue bulbs and a plastic placard with the sentence, "THE BEST OF ALL GIFTS AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE IS TIME WITH FAMILY."
Amy was busy in the kitchen removing the food from delivery containers and placing it in bowls. Chuck sat at the table trying to have a conversation with his parents. Chuck and Amy's son, Carl, was watching an NFBL game on the TV, looking completely annoyed by Uncle Mike, who sat near him, asking one stupid question after another.
"So, you mean to tell me that they combined the basketball and football leagues into one?" asked Mike. He took the cigar out of his mouth and looked around for an ashtray. "When did they do that?"
"About four years ago," said Carl without taking his eyes off the television.
"That's just stupid," said Mike. "Everything is stupid nowadays." He searched the room with his eyes one more time before shouting, "Hey, Chuck, where's an ashtray?"
"You don't need an ashtray," replied Chuck. "That's a cigar simulation; they don't make real cigars anymore. I already told you that."
Mike pulled the stogie from his mouth and examined it. "No wonder it doesn't taste like anything. It's stupid."
Chuck's dad spoke to his wife, loud enough to be certain Chuck could hear. "I can't believe Chuck sold the old house and bought this tiny condo."
"This tiny condo is a lot cheaper than the old place and a lot easier to take care of," said Chuck. "I'm getting older, heck, I'm not that much younger than you anymore. I have to start thinking about the future."
"Oh," said Chuck's mom, "you get to have a future? You're not going to be stuck in a cryogenic tube three hundred sixty-three days a year?"
Chuck's dad grabbed his wife by the arm. "Now, now, dear. Let's try not to get upset. We don't want to have another big argument like we had yesterday."
"That wasn't yesterday," said Chuck. "That was last year."
"Well, it seems like yesterday to us," snapped Chuck's mom. "I still can't believe you've made us spend the last fifteen years locked away in a tube."
Amy walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of the best cookies available for delivery. "Hey now, Kallie," she said, "you agreed to go into suspension. We didn't force you."
"We didn't think you'd only bring us out once a year."
"Life is pretty hectic," said Chuck, trying not to sound too defensive. "We'd bring you out more often, but the re-freezing fee is getting pretty high."
"That's a foul," shouted Mike from the living room.
"That was a perfectly legal tackle," said Carl.
"Look, Chuck," said his dad, "can't you just not take us back. Your mom and I must have a pretty good nest egg left. I mean, the reason we agreed to the whole suspended animation thing was because it was a good deal compared to the cost of everyday living. I would think that with us in the tube, our savings and investments have done pretty well. I bet we can live on that for a while."
"It's not that easy," replied Chuck. "First of all, we signed up for a twenty-year package and there are still five years remaining on the contract. There are early withdrawal penalties. It's just not financially feasible. Second, the economy has been very up and down the last fifteen years. You don't have as much money left as you think."
"Plus, we used some of your money to pay for Carl's college," admitted Amy.
"Is there beer in the fridge?" asked Mike as he walked by.
"Well, I hope Carl's education has gotten him a good enough job that he can afford to stick you in a cryo-tube in a couple of years. Let you see what it's like to have everybody and everything change an entire year's worth every time you wake up."
"Carl doesn't have a job," said Chuck, solemnly. "He's living with us until he can get things figured out."
Chuck's dad shrugged, "Well, that's not unusual. I mean, a lot of twenty-year-olds have a hard time finding a job."
"He's thirty."
"Look, son, you have to understand where your mother and I are coming from." Chuck's dad rose to his feet to address everyone in the condo, except for Mike, whose head was buried in the refrigerator. "We thought it would be a good idea to do cryogenic suspension when it first came out. We were both in our mid-sixties and starting to worry about our future. We thought it would be a good way to stretch out our lives and allow us to enjoy the important things, like family, without suffering through the day-to-day hassles. Unfortunately, it just doesn't work like that. We spend Christmas with you every day..."
"Year," interjected Amy.
"But to us it's every day. Everything changes completely from one day to the next. Carl went from being a sweet kid to... whatever he is now, almost instantly. We don't get to share the little things. This cryo thing is just not working out."
"I understand that, Dad," said Chuck, "but there's really not much we can do about it. Amy and I are hurting for money. We don't know what we're going to do to make ends meet. If you haven't already guessed it, we got rid of the old house because we couldn't afford it. Our life is a complete mess. There's no way we could afford to have you guys living with us. All we're trying to do is put on a happy face for you guys, once a year."
"A day," interjected Chuck's mom.
Chuck's dad walked around the table and put his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "It's okay, son. We'll think of something. There's got to be a solution."
"I have an idea," announced Uncle Mike, entering the room with a beer in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.
"How was work?" asked Chuck's mom as Mike and Chuck's dad came through the condominium's front door.
"Very good," said Mike. "It's amazing how many people in this day and age can't do anything for themselves."
Chuck's dad nodded. "It's true. We're getting paid hand over fist for doing the simple things we used to do for free growing up." He pulled out his phone and showed his wife the day's profit.
She smiled, "That is good. But you need to get changed. Tomorrow's Christmas, and we have to get over to the cryogenic holding office and pick up Chuck and Amy."
"I have a suggestion," said Mike. "Can we just leave Carl frozen this year?"
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"That's great," said Chuck. "We have to have them back by 5:00 Monday, correct?"
The rep checked some data on his tablet. "Yes, that's right," he replied, "but there is something else we need to take care of."
"What?" asked Chuck's wife, Amy.
"Your Uncle Mike."
"We'd prefer to leave him," said Chuck. "We're just having a small Christmas. We don't need Uncle Mike there."
"You have to do something with him," explained the rep. "The contract clearly states that each enrollee must be revived at least once every five years. It's necessary for updating and system maintenance."
Amy shook her head. "I don't know why we included Mike when we purchased the package for your parents."
"Dad insisted. Mike doesn't have a family of his own."
"What happens if we just leave him?" asked Amy
The rep, who looked too young to have any job, let alone be a representative for the largest cryogenic holding firm in the country, tapped his tablet a couple of times, then turned the screen toward Chuck and Amy, letting them see the number flashing at the bottom. "As you can see. There is a significant financial penalty for noncompliance. You may also be putting your parents' position at risk." He glanced to his right and left before whispering, "There's a long waiting list for positions, and most of the people waiting are willing to pay a lot more than what the original holding fees were."
Chuck stared at Amy, who glared back at him. Finally, she rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, you can get Mike out too."
Chuck and Amy's condominium did not give off much of a Christmas vibe. The only decorations were a small, silver tree with blue bulbs and a plastic placard with the sentence, "THE BEST OF ALL GIFTS AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE IS TIME WITH FAMILY."
Amy was busy in the kitchen removing the food from delivery containers and placing it in bowls. Chuck sat at the table trying to have a conversation with his parents. Chuck and Amy's son, Carl, was watching an NFBL game on the TV, looking completely annoyed by Uncle Mike, who sat near him, asking one stupid question after another.
"So, you mean to tell me that they combined the basketball and football leagues into one?" asked Mike. He took the cigar out of his mouth and looked around for an ashtray. "When did they do that?"
"About four years ago," said Carl without taking his eyes off the television.
"That's just stupid," said Mike. "Everything is stupid nowadays." He searched the room with his eyes one more time before shouting, "Hey, Chuck, where's an ashtray?"
"You don't need an ashtray," replied Chuck. "That's a cigar simulation; they don't make real cigars anymore. I already told you that."
Mike pulled the stogie from his mouth and examined it. "No wonder it doesn't taste like anything. It's stupid."
Chuck's dad spoke to his wife, loud enough to be certain Chuck could hear. "I can't believe Chuck sold the old house and bought this tiny condo."
"This tiny condo is a lot cheaper than the old place and a lot easier to take care of," said Chuck. "I'm getting older, heck, I'm not that much younger than you anymore. I have to start thinking about the future."
"Oh," said Chuck's mom, "you get to have a future? You're not going to be stuck in a cryogenic tube three hundred sixty-three days a year?"
Chuck's dad grabbed his wife by the arm. "Now, now, dear. Let's try not to get upset. We don't want to have another big argument like we had yesterday."
"That wasn't yesterday," said Chuck. "That was last year."
"Well, it seems like yesterday to us," snapped Chuck's mom. "I still can't believe you've made us spend the last fifteen years locked away in a tube."
Amy walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of the best cookies available for delivery. "Hey now, Kallie," she said, "you agreed to go into suspension. We didn't force you."
"We didn't think you'd only bring us out once a year."
"Life is pretty hectic," said Chuck, trying not to sound too defensive. "We'd bring you out more often, but the re-freezing fee is getting pretty high."
"That's a foul," shouted Mike from the living room.
"That was a perfectly legal tackle," said Carl.
"Look, Chuck," said his dad, "can't you just not take us back. Your mom and I must have a pretty good nest egg left. I mean, the reason we agreed to the whole suspended animation thing was because it was a good deal compared to the cost of everyday living. I would think that with us in the tube, our savings and investments have done pretty well. I bet we can live on that for a while."
"It's not that easy," replied Chuck. "First of all, we signed up for a twenty-year package and there are still five years remaining on the contract. There are early withdrawal penalties. It's just not financially feasible. Second, the economy has been very up and down the last fifteen years. You don't have as much money left as you think."
"Plus, we used some of your money to pay for Carl's college," admitted Amy.
"Is there beer in the fridge?" asked Mike as he walked by.
"Well, I hope Carl's education has gotten him a good enough job that he can afford to stick you in a cryo-tube in a couple of years. Let you see what it's like to have everybody and everything change an entire year's worth every time you wake up."
"Carl doesn't have a job," said Chuck, solemnly. "He's living with us until he can get things figured out."
Chuck's dad shrugged, "Well, that's not unusual. I mean, a lot of twenty-year-olds have a hard time finding a job."
"He's thirty."
"Look, son, you have to understand where your mother and I are coming from." Chuck's dad rose to his feet to address everyone in the condo, except for Mike, whose head was buried in the refrigerator. "We thought it would be a good idea to do cryogenic suspension when it first came out. We were both in our mid-sixties and starting to worry about our future. We thought it would be a good way to stretch out our lives and allow us to enjoy the important things, like family, without suffering through the day-to-day hassles. Unfortunately, it just doesn't work like that. We spend Christmas with you every day..."
"Year," interjected Amy.
"But to us it's every day. Everything changes completely from one day to the next. Carl went from being a sweet kid to... whatever he is now, almost instantly. We don't get to share the little things. This cryo thing is just not working out."
"I understand that, Dad," said Chuck, "but there's really not much we can do about it. Amy and I are hurting for money. We don't know what we're going to do to make ends meet. If you haven't already guessed it, we got rid of the old house because we couldn't afford it. Our life is a complete mess. There's no way we could afford to have you guys living with us. All we're trying to do is put on a happy face for you guys, once a year."
"A day," interjected Chuck's mom.
Chuck's dad walked around the table and put his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "It's okay, son. We'll think of something. There's got to be a solution."
"I have an idea," announced Uncle Mike, entering the room with a beer in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.
"How was work?" asked Chuck's mom as Mike and Chuck's dad came through the condominium's front door.
"Very good," said Mike. "It's amazing how many people in this day and age can't do anything for themselves."
Chuck's dad nodded. "It's true. We're getting paid hand over fist for doing the simple things we used to do for free growing up." He pulled out his phone and showed his wife the day's profit.
She smiled, "That is good. But you need to get changed. Tomorrow's Christmas, and we have to get over to the cryogenic holding office and pick up Chuck and Amy."
"I have a suggestion," said Mike. "Can we just leave Carl frozen this year?"
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