The Emoticon Generation Read Online Free PDF Page A

words. Then you refer back to them, using these words, to create more complex concepts, building on your earlier ones. Repeat this process many times, and you will be able to fly people to the moon, to heal cancer, to rid the world of hunger, to create wealth for everybody.
    Big words, big ideas. Small words, small ideas.
    This isn’t an adult thing. I’m not just being a doof of a grown-up. This is a major issue and Generation E is on the wrong side of it, threatening to fall off the face of the earth.
    Okay. Now that we know I’m not the problem: Get off my lawn!

Hatchling
    Glynis Hatch never knew her father.
    There was something about him. Something big. Maybe something scary.
    Her mother would never talk about him. Ron who babysat her and seemed to know her mother from forever ago would never talk about him. One day when Glynis simply insisted on getting an answer, he said, “Ask your mother.” But Glynis knew asking her mother was useless.
    “At least tell me his name!” she demanded.
    “Ask your mother.”
    “Height! The color of his hair! Was he a handsome man? What did he do? What’s the color of his eyes? Is he alive ?!”
    “Such curiosity. Just like your mother.”
    And the tone implied that being like her mother was a good thing. No one ever said anything about her being like her father. For good or bad.
    When she was five, Glynis developed theories about how her father was really a spy in the service of his country, how he was pulling the wool over the bad guys’ eyes, and how one day he’ll return and explain that it had to be done and that he loves her and that now he would stay. When she was seven she began to imagine that he had died in a horrible accident a few days before she was born and that her mother had loved him so much that she couldn’t bear to speak of him and that nothing would ever fill the void created by him.
    But throughout the years the one explanation that seemed most plausible was the one she didn’t want to face. That maybe her father beat her mother, that maybe he had hurt her, or that maybe he had left her one day with no explanation.
    Still, what he had done to her mother was one thing, and a long time has passed since. Who knew what he was like now? Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he doesn’t know Glynis exists. Maybe he does. Maybe. The point was: She just wanted to see who he was, to see what he’s like. Even from afar. Even for a second. That can’t be too much to ask, can it?
    But for her mother it was too much.
    Two months before her thirteenth birthday, Glynis realized her mother would never tell her. So she decided to get one detail about him, from which she would find out everything else by herself. But getting that one detail would not be easy.
    The first thing she did was give her mother a month of silence on the subject. She didn’t bug her, she didn’t ask her, she didn’t even mention Him. And then, a month before her birthday, Olivia (that was her mother’s name) watched Glynis tuck herself into bed and sat beside her.
    “Thirteen is a tremendously important birthday,” Olivia said, playing with Glynis’ golden hair. “I wonder what I could possibly give you for a birthday present.”
    “I know what I want,” Glynis said.
    Olivia smiled and caressed Glynis’ cheek. “What?”
    “I want to know my father’s name.”
    For a split second Olivia froze. Then she withdrew the hand that touched Glynis’ cheek. “I—” She began hesitantly, then became resolute. “Forget it.”
    “Did you know your father before he died?”
    “Yes, I did.” There was ice in her voice.
    “Then you know why it’s so important. I’m not asking where he is. I’m not asking what he’s like or what he did. I just want his name. I just want to know his name.”
    Olivia stood up. “Ask for something else. Anything else.”
    “I don’t want anything else. I want his name!”
    “Well, you won’t get it.” And Olivia stormed out of the room,