The Lost Stones of Greydorn

By Refried Bean

This book contains two collections of funny and heartwarming stories by Refried Bean.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Refried Bean
• Release date: Jun 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311623447

Refried Bean

Refried Bean is from Greenville, SC. Refried worked in a bookstore for twelve years and has an M.F.A. in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Refried now lives in the Bronx near a Stop and Shop.

Book preview

Boyle’s Blue Fizz

I sold his soul. I sold his soul! cried his mother. She was wailing in my office, and I had to close the door. Shrieking rarely startles people on this end of the ward, but I still thought she could use some privacy.

No, you didn’t, I said, handing her a tissue to wipe her face. She was a mess. Her mascara streaked all the way down to her chin, her nose was running, and she still had blue stains on her neck and collar. You made a mistake. Who hasn’t?

She didn’t even look up. I’m the worst mother in the world. I ruined his life for a lousy hundred grand.

Look, I said. You had no idea this would happen when you made the deal. It was 2008, for goodness sake. The technology was young. Think about it. Ten years earlier they barely knew how to clone sheep. The world needs brave people like you who are willing to risk their children for the benefit of science. I knew I was reaching. There isn’t much consolation you can give to a lady who let a soft drink company buy space in her child’s brain. I offered her a Hershey’s Kiss from the jar on my desk, but she refused.

Just then, her husband walked in. He had the same blue soft-drink stains all over his shirt. He sat down and looked at us through his bloodshot, puffy eyes.

How is he? she asked, calming down a little.

He’s asleep. They gave him a tranquilizer. He should be knocked out for a good six hours. Jeanne, I don’t want to say I told you so or anything, but…

Oh, okay, Mr. ‘I wish you were having twins so we could really cash in.’ Now it’s my fault? You’re the one who had the final say. You let the agency guys walk all over us.

You don’t think we could sue them, do you? he said, turning to me.

Well, I’m no lawyer, I said. I’m just a psychiatrist. But I don’t think your case would hold up. I’ve seen the papers you signed. The contract clearly stated the risk. The advertisers warned you that it hadn’t been done before. The media papers were straightforward, and the medical contract you signed pretty much gave these people permission to turn this kid into the next Robo-Cop if they’d wanted to.

But they didn’t tell us it could backfire like this, Jeanne said, wiping tears from her eyes and smearing the mascara even more. They just said he would prefer Boyle’s Blue Fizz over other drinks. Like when people want cream in their coffee instead of taking it black, right?

The tears started to flow again, and Steven put his hand on hers but looked away.

Look, I said. You guys need some rest. Go home and take a nap or get some fresh air or whatever you need, and then come back at nine. The other doctors and I need some time for more evaluations anyway.

As they got up to leave, I looked from one to the other, and trying to sound sincere, I said, You have nothing to worry about. Eric is going to be just fine.

They shuffled out, and I closed the door behind them.

I opened the file on my desk and started looking through Eric’s papers. Part of me wanted to agree with his wailing mother. His parents had sold his soul. Who in their right mind would let advertisers genetically engineer their child to like a certain brand of soda?

I can understand why they answered the classified ad in the first place. All it said was that Boyle, Inc. wanted a child to endorse Blue Fizz. At the time, their older son Mark was four, and Eric had not even been conceived. They probably assumed that the ad agency wanted a cute kid to drink some soda and smile on TV and say something adorable. But when they actually went to what they thought was a casting call, they were instead greeted by three scientists and some guy in a business suit, who explained that TV was an outdated medium. The businessman told them that when the Internet and Satellite TV systems merged to create thousands of channels to choose from, efficiently reaching a target market became virtually impossible. This trend, along with advertisers’ long-held belief that word-of-mouth advertising is the most effective, led them to their new idea for media buying.

Their client: Boyle’s Blue Fizz.

Their medium: A human brain.

Their vehicle: Eric Casing.

These guys wanted to take one embryo and genetically engineer it to prefer Boyle’s Blue Fizz. They were convinced that having one die-hard fan of their product would have a domino effect and give them a customer base that would spend millions on their product. The concept barely made it past the client, but Boyle’s only other successful beverages, cream soda and root beer, had been squeezed out of the market in 2006. The company was in a desperate situation, and in an age where the market is so segmented, people will do almost anything for gross rating points.

The agency’s plan seemed foolproof. They only had to alter 17 genes out of 300,000 to get the desired effect, and by that time, the complete human genome had been mapped out. Yes, there was still some guesswork involved. The scientists could manipulate a gene to increase the likelihood of Eric preferring the cooler colors of the electromagnetic spectrum, but they couldn’t narrow his taste down to Blue no. 5. It wasn’t hard to produce a craving for potassium benzoate and artificial berry flavor no. 45, but there was no way to program someone to crave the exact proportions of citric acid and high fructose corn syrup. Still, after a little DNA tweaking, the advertisers were confident that the child’s neurotransmitters would respond to any interaction with Blue Fizz’s particular ratio of phosphoric acid to glucose.

Why not just concentrate on making the Blue Fizz taste good? asked one of the marketing reps.

Too obvious.

Jeanne and Steven had a difficult time deciding to go through with it. They had already planned on having another baby, so the only question was whether to make it a Blue Fizz-loving baby.

At first, they didn’t see why a company would want to spend $100,000 just to get one loyal customer. But the company had two reasons. First, they truly were interested in the power of word-of-mouth advertising. The average human being has a social network that can include hundreds of people, who each have their own social network, and so on. When the agency presented their idea to Boyle, Inc, they cited research that on average, every human being would eat meals with more than 500 people before the age of 30. If they could just get one kid to drink Boyle’s Blue Fizz all the time, word could spread to thousands, then millions.

But that was just part of the plan. What they were really after was a genuine spokesperson for the brand: someone who really meant it when they said they liked Blue Fizz. One fanatic’s enthusiasm could inspire the masses to try their product.

Out of the 170 couples who responded to the ad, Jeanne and Steven were the only ones willing to try it. Steven had a job that paid him reasonably well, but they had been concerned about financing another baby. A hundred thousand dollars sounded mighty sweet at the time. Still, it was when Boyle’s promised them unlimited soft drinks that they decided to go for it.

Everyone agreed that this would be a long-term investment, and that the research was almost as valuable as the sales would be. And the company agreed with the doctors who said that Eric should not taste the Blue Fizz until he turned six. That way, they could monitor his growth and be sure that the genetic changes did not affect him in any other way before they associated him with their product.

Fortunately, the changes really didn’t seem to alter his functioning. Eric grew up with no physical deformities or notable behavioral differences. He did well in school, he had friends, and he seemed like any other happy youngster.

In fact, his mom was actually looking forward to his sixth birthday. She scheduled his birthday party for 1:00 pm that Saturday. She had the parents stay, thinking that it was important for as many people to try the Blue Fizz as possible. Jeanne could hardly wait to serve the birthday cake and, of course, the soda. While the kids were out in the yard, she took a two-liter bottle out of the pantry and poured it over 12 little cups of ice. She was so anxious for this long-awaited moment when Eric would finally try Boyle’s Blue Fizz. None of the other parents there knew about Eric. She had not told any of her friends about the advertising plan. For one thing, she didn’t want them to misunderstand and think she was a bad mother, and for another, Boyle, Inc. had paid her not to tell.

She could hardly contain her excitement when she went outside and announced that it was time for birthday cake. Followed by their parents, the children romped into the dining area while she and Steven passed out the Blue Fizz. She figured that she would let Eric get a good taste of the Blue Fizz before being distracted with cake.

He started out drinking like any other thirsty six-year-old. But he didn’t move the cup from his lips until all of it was gone. He put the cup down and started looking around.

Jeanne looked at her husband to make sure he was getting this on camcorder.

More! Eric said happily, looking for another cup on the counter.

Did you like that, Eric? asked Jeanne. Her heart was pounding. They had waited so long to see whether the procedure had worked. She thought of herself as sort of a marketing pioneer, and wanted to make sure that she did her part in building Blue Fizz’s brand equity.

It’s called Blue Fizz, she said loudly, making sure not to obscure the logo on the bottle with her hand.

More Blue Fizz! More Blue Fizz! cheered Eric happily, giggling. A few others hurried to finish theirs and joined with him.

More Blue Fizz! More Blue Fizz! the kids started chanting together, laughing at themselves as they got louder. A few parents tried to discourage it, but one of the dads actually started chanting it, too, and Jeanne started pouring more Blue Fizz into the cups. She suppressed a smirk. The folks at Boyle’s would be pretty impressed by her work when they saw the camcorder footage. She was quite the ad wizard.

Eric drank his second cup even faster.

More Blue Fizz! he shouted, as most of the other kids hurried to catch up with him. She opened a second bottle, after waving the empty one in front of the camcorder and winking.

She filled another cup for Eric, and he started gulping it down, spilling it all over himself. He put his collar in his mouth and started sucking it.

Jeanne laughed nervously.

You all must have gotten thirsty out there, huh? Okay, Eric, save some room for cake.

More, he said, reaching for the bottle in her hand. He was no longer smiling.

Neither was Jeanne.

That’s enough, Eric. It’s time for birthday cake.

No!!! he shouted, turning to one of the other children and grabbing his cup of Blue Fizz. He started drinking, coughing and choking a little as he tried to pour the Blue Fizz into his