The Men Who Stare at Stoplights


Jeremy Giles swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the ice reflect the bar’s neon lights… Reds and blues…

…And grays…

He sighed.

“Something wrong, chief?” The bartender asked.

Jeremy gave the man a dejected look.

“Just got busted dealing Splat.”

The bartender winced. “Nasty stuff.”

Jeremy gave a weak nod. “Nasty stuff.” He repeated. “And a nasty sentence for getting caught.”

“So what, you going away for a while? They got you doing community service?”

Jeremy shook his head and pointed a finger at his own eyes. “They zapped me.”

The bartender winced again. “Not good. What color did they take from you?”

“Green. They were gonna take blue, but my lawyer managed to argue them down to green. Said that taking blue was too cruel, but I gotta say, it’s still pretty damned hard to go without green.”

“I ain’t never been zapped myself. How is it?”

“The world looks… Empty. I mean I know some people are colorblind, but that’s what they’re used to, you know? Me, I’m used to a world full of colors, but now one of the big ones has been…” He trailed off.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” A woman interjected. Jeremy turned and saw a small elderly woman sidling along the chairs toward him. “You can’t see green any longer… Is that right?”

Jeremy nodded.

“My son lost green for about a decade as well.” She hopped off her chair. “Come with me, young man.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

Jeremy decided obeying the woman was a better use of his time than sinking deeper into the bottle. He stumbled off his stool and followed the woman to the door.

She opened it and a bright wedge of sunlight pierced the darkness. He shielded his eyes. For some reason he found his color-deficiency easier to tolerate in the low-light conditions of the bar.

“Look.” She said.

Jeremy blinked. Forms began to materialize as he adjusted to the vibrance. Red-brick buildings, the black-blue asphalt, the gray leaves of trees…

…When the woman came into focus he tracked her finger to where she was pointing.

He stared upward.

His mouth fell open.

There, roughly twenty feet above the road, was a normal stoplight… Red light… Yellow light…

…And Green…

“But… I don’t understand.”

The woman smiled. “Court ruling. It was decided that inhibiting visual cues from stoplights was too dangerous, so when they zapped you they left a very, very specific spectrum of green visible.”

Jeremy’s heart fluttered.

“You got zapped too?” A nearby voice asked.

Jeremy looked over and saw a small group of four men leaning against a nearby wall. All four were drinking beer, and all four were looking up at the stoplight.

“Yeah… Green.” He answered.

“Same here.” One of the other men interjected.

“Red for me.” Said another.

“Yellow.” The last two offered.

“Here…” The first man tossed a beer toward Jeremy, who automatically caught it. “Come join us.”

Jeremy cracked open the can, settled against the wall, and joined the men in staring up at the marvelous emerald shine emitted by the stoplight.