The Sandbox

Muse Street cut the children's playground into two individual slices: the big kid side and the little kid side. Although it was unofficial and undocumented, everybody knew not to go from the big kid side to the little kid side, or vice-versa, or else ultimate dishonor would befall.

The little kid's side, Aperture Park, was founded by the man whose statue stood in the center of the wooded area behind the park: C. Johnson. Not many of the little kids knew it, because they were too little to read good just yet, and they didn't care much about the statue either because it was too difficult to climb. Little Carrie cared because she was C. Johnson's daughter, and therefore knew that the entire sandbox belonged to her.

Little Carrie would stand on the highest point of the playground – which happened to be the top of the slide – and yell down at the other newcomers, "This is my playground! You do what I tell you!" and put them to work with shovels and buckets, building sandcastles they didn't want to build. If they refused, she kicked sand in their faces and made them cry.

"I'm queen of the playground!" she yelled. "And my name isn't Carrie anymore. It's Gladys. I'm Queen Gladys! Keep making sandcastles!"

None of the other kids wanted sand kicked in their faces, so they did as she said.

"I won't let anybody go home," declared Queen Gladys. "I won't let their mommies come pick them up."

So they all kept making sandcastles, digging holes to China, and bringing her berries to stick into her royal hair.

But there was one little girl who secretly rebelled. She was a quiet child, her thumb was almost always in her mouth, and she wore an orange jumper. Her hair was in two ponytails that she shook out of her eyes whenever she was thinking hard. Her name was Michelle.

Michelle kept her head down whenever Queen Gladys yelled at her, but started scooping sand closer and closer to the ladder behind the slide. She got really close before Queen Gladys noticed.

"You're not allowed up here!" screamed Queen Gladys when she noticed Michelle, now climbing up to stand beside her. "Go back down! I'm the queen, and only the queen gets to be here!"

Michelle didn't say a thing, but only stared at the 'queen'.

Queen Gladys got really angry, then. "I'll push you back down!" she threatened, but when she took a step forward one of the berries dropped from her hair. Queen Gladys screamed and lunged for it, but Michelle was faster. She threw it down the slide where it landed with a quiet little poof of sand.

Queen Glady's face turned red in her fury. "You can't do that!" she screeched at Michelle. "I'm the queen!"

She ran at Michelle and began to pull at her pigtails, but Michelle snatched all the remaining berries out of Queen Gladys' hair and threw them down the slide, then began to push Gladys down to join them.

Queen Gladys was shrieking on the edge of a fit as her foot slipped on the slide's slick surface. She grabbed for Michelle and both of them went down in a flailing heap of arms, legs, and clothes. They hit the ground at the same time and Gladys gave Michelle a shove, her face blotchy and red as she wailed, "You're a bad girl! You're a bad, bad girl!"

Michelle crawled to the side, knees drawn up to her chin, and watched Gladys bawl. She sucked her thumb, watching the other girl's tantrum. She looked around at the other kids, but none of them had noticed that Gladys had been displaced. They were still digging with their heads down.

"Hey," said a friendly voice.

Michelle looked up and saw a boy, not much older than her, wearing a blue shirt and glasses. "I just got here," the boy said. "My name's Wesley. D'you want to play with me?"

Michelle nodded and got up. Her thumb was still in her mouth, but she smiled around it. She had already decided that she liked this boy.

"Can you talk?" the boy asked with the bold frankness of five-year-olds. Michelle nodded. "How about 'apple'? Can you say the word 'apple'?"

Michelle mumbled something around her thumb and bounced until her pigtails flopped.

"I couldn't hear any of that," the boy laughed. "But c'mon! Let's go play something!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the slide. "Who's that?" he asked, staring at Gladys.

Michelle shook her head and tugged his hand, trying to keep him back, but Wesley pulled away. "Maybe she'd like to play with us, too," he exclaimed, walking toward her. "Hey, little girl," Wesley said, "would you like to play with this little girl and me?"

Gladys, who had stopped crying a minute ago and was just pouting and hiccupping at this point, grabbed Wesley around the legs and tackled him to the ground. His glasses fell off into the sand and Gladys kicked them away.

"Don't play with her!" she yelled at the prone Wesley. "She's a bad girl!" She picked up sand and began to throw it at Michelle. Michelle covered her face as the annoying grains hit against her eyelids. Gladys kicked a bucket in her direction. "Keep working!" she yelled and climbed back up to the top of her slide, trying to brush out the smudges in her white dress.

Michelle went back to digging harder than ever, trying to make perfect sandcastles, but Queen Gladys called down discouragement with every turn.

"That one's lumpy!" she would yell. Or, "That one's falling apart! Add some more of the dark sand to it!"

Michelle would look longingly over at Black Mesa Glenn, the big kid's park, wishing she was old enough to join them, but it looked like they were having problems of their own over there. She could see a bunch of kids playing with nerf guns and hear yelling. And besides, Gladys would kick sand in her face whenever she tried to sneak a peek.

After some time of digging, Wesley crawled over to join her on the pretense of filling her bucket with sand. His clothes were sandy and he had a crack in the left lens of his glasses, but he wore a determined expression on his face. "We need to get her off of there," he whispered to Michelle, ducking behind the back of a larger kid who was working in the same area. "I have an idea. Just wait for my signal."

Michelle nodded.

Every so often, Queen Gladys would order sand to be brought and dumped at the top of the slide so she could kick it at anyone who came near, but under Wesley's instruction, no sand was brought and her supply soon ran out. She didn't notice, though, because Michelle started running around in circles and Gladys got down to chase her. When Queen Gladys saw Michelle sprinting for her slide, she ran fast to get there first and stood at the top, glowering down at her.

"Okay," Wesley whispered in Michelle's ear, both of them hidden beneath the playset. "Now you go straight for the slide and I'll sneak up the ladder behind her. She'll never know what hit her."

Michelle stood at the bottom of the slide, her finger determinedly stuck in her mouth, arms crossed.

"I don't like you!" Gladys shouted down at her, and reached down for some sand. But it was all gone, her store completely drained. "I don't like you at all!" she repeated in a scream. Michelle smiled grimly and began to climb the slide.

"No!" screamed Gladys. "No! No! No!"

And then, just like the plan stated, Wesley grabbed Queen Gladys from behind. Queen Gladys screamed again and tried to hit him, but Wesley grabbed her wrists. "What're you gunna do now?" he taunted, grinning at her as she shrieked. "I'm bigger than you, and you're not queen of the playground anymore!"

Michelle stopped at the middle of the slide, looking up at the pair of them, trying to keep from sliding back down.

"Actually," Wesley continued, an idea coming to mind, "I think we should have a king of the playground. That's me! I'll be King Wesley!"

Michelle gestured down to herself, indicating that she wanted to rule with him, but he didn't notice.

"You're stupid!" screamed Gladys. "You're so stupid, you can't be king!"

"I'm not stupid!" shouted Wesley. "If I was so stupid, why can I do this?" He pushed her backwards into a sitting position. "Could I push you down the slide if I was so stupid? Huh? Could I do that?"

He didn't notice Michelle until Gladys started slipping. He grabbed for her, but the two girls fell in a pile at the bottom of the slide. Again.

Michelle's eyes filled with tears and she sent a betrayed glare up at Wesley, running away into the wooded area behind the playground. She could hear Gladys wailing as she ran in a different direction.

Michelle ran and hid behind a tree, crying and wishing that her mommy was there to pick her up. She wished Wesley wasn't being so mean, or that he would come down off the slide and find her. But he didn't. No one came.

After her tears had subsided, Michelle wiped off her face and walked a little ways away, wondering what to do next. She found Gladys sitting by the statue of C. Johnson, boogies running out of her nose and tears streaking her face.

"That's daddy," Gladys said, pointing up at the statue. "He and mommy didn't get well together, so he left when I was little. His mommy's name was Gladys, so that's what he called me. My real name is Carrie. It's short for Caroline, but that's real long."

Michelle sat next to Carrie, her thumb back in her mouth.

"I need to be queen again," Carrie said at last. "His daddy didn't make the park – mine did. He just got here – he doesn't like the park as much as I do. Will you help me?"

Michelle gave Carrie a dubious look.

"I won't make you dig anymore," Carrie promised. "And when your mommy comes to pick you up, I'll let you go home. Promise."

Michelle doubtfully nodded and the two girls got up. "Okay, here's the plan," Carrie said. "I'm going to talk to some of the bigger boys. The stupid boy is too big for us to take alone, but if you distract him, I'll get the other boys to help us, okay?"

Michelle nodded again, more assuredly this time, and walked toward the playground.

Wesley had been hard at work getting everyone under his leadership, but it wasn't going well. Everything was chaotic. The boy had a frantic look in his eyes as he demanded everybody to settle down, but everything was still in confusion. Kids were throwing shovels at each other, a few were making sandcastles in the hole to China, and a few little kids were crying. Wesley was yelling at them all when Michelle walked toward him.

"Oh, good! You're here!" he exclaimed. Michelle hoped that he would invite her up beside him, but he just pointed to a bucket and shovel. "Bring me some sand, would you? And then get to making sandcastles. We need this whole place to be covered with sandcastles by the time we leave. You two, over there!" he shouted at another group of kids, "Get back to work! I'm the king!"

Michelle started to get to work, but everything she did went wrong. Her sandcastles fell in. Some boys ran by and knocked over her bucket when she was using it. Her hole filled in with sand.

Wesley got more and more agitated with her. "It's not that hard!" he yelled at her. "I'm not stupid, you're the stupid one!"

As Michelle worked, Carrie snuck up to the biggest boys in their side of the playground: Rick and Cecil. Rick was a green-eyed boy with cowboy boots who fell in love with every little girl he came across, and Cecil was the smartest boy around. Carrie took no time in explaining her plight.

"I'll help you, little queen," Rick said with a bow. He was always up for an adventure. Whenever they played knights verses dragons or cops and robbers, you could be sure he would always be the knight or the cop. "Will you give me a kiss when it's over?"

"Yes," agreed Carrie. "That'll be your reward. What about you, Cecil?"

Cecil bunched his pink shirt and stared at Wesley through his dark-rimmed glasses. "He's going to be tough," he remarked. "What will you give me if I help you?"

Carrie twisted a yellow plastic ring off her finger. "This one's my favorite," she mentioned. "I'll give it to you if you help me."

Cecil nodded. "Okay."

Meanwhile, Michelle was still having trouble with her sandcastles. She was almost on the brink of tears by the time Wesley called, "Little girl, come over here! I have a surprise for you!"

Michelle looked up in shock, but the smile Wesley had on his face wasn't necessarily a nice one. "That's it, come over here," he said. "Right beside the slide."

Michelle obeyed.

"Now, close your eyes," Wesley said. "Your surprise will be here, soon."

Michelle closed her eyes, but then she heard Carrie yell, "Michelle, run!"

Michelle looked up and saw Wesley dangling a bucket full of sand ready to tip over her head. She sprinted forward as the sand dropped, just missing her by inches. Wesley yelled, "Aww!" in disgust as she got away. "Hey, hey! Get back here! Come back! It was just a joke!" he shouted, but she wasn't going to fall for that again. She ran up the playset and across the little bridge, her eyes burning.

"Well well well," remarked Wesley as she halted right before the stairs that joined the slide to the rest of the playset. "Welcome to my castle! But if you thought I was all out of sand, you were wrong! I'm not stupid, I'm not going to run out of sand like the other girl did. Take that!" and he threw a glob of mud at Michelle.

Michelle dodged aside as well as she could in such a confined space, keeping an eye on Rick and Cecil who were sneakily climbing the ladder to the top of the slide. Michelle even managed to grab a gob or two and throw it back at Wesley, who was very angry when it splattered against his shirt.

"I never liked you!" he yelled at Michelle. "You're selfish! You only wanted to help yourself!"

Rick and Cecil made it up the ladder and – with war yells of triumph – began to wrestle with Wesley. Cecil got knocked back down the ladder pretty quickly, but Rick struggled with Wesley, the two surprisingly well matched.

Michelle, seeing there was no resolve to the conflict any time soon, ran at both of them and pushed Wesley toward the slide. Rick let go, but Wesley didn't. He grabbed onto Michelle's arm and both of them dangled, their legs ready to slide as soon as they let go of the railing. Michelle snatched at Wesley's neck, trying to keep from sliding. Only Wesley's hand on the railing kept them both from falling.

"Let go!" Wesley yelled at her, wriggling to try and get her off him. "Let go, I can still pull myself up! I can fix this!"

"I already fixed this," Carrie said, Queen Gladys once more. "And you are not coming back."

"I have another idea," Wesley gasped as Rick began to pick at his fingers. "Hold onto me. Tighter!"

But Michelle let go, kicking off him toward the top as Wesley's hand gave way. Just before she followed him down, Gladys grabbed her hand and pulled her up to the top, leaving Wesley to slide down to the ground.

Wesley got up, starting to shout something angrily, but then a woman's voice yelled his name. "Wesley?"

Wesley jumped and turned around. "Oh, mom, not now!" he whined. "Five more minutes? Pleeeease?"

"Wesley, come on," said the woman in the sparkly black dress in a no-nonsense tone. "We need to get your little brother to the dentist's office. I told you that before I dropped you off here."

The little boy strapped into the kid's seat of the silver car waved his astronaut toy at his brother. "Wesley, we're going to space!" he shouted out the window. "You can play with my spaceship."

The woman in black marched forward and grabbed Wesley by his arm. "Come on! We need to go!"

"Can't I say goodbye?" Wesley whined.

"No, we're already late."

Wesley looked back at the playset and saw Gladys glaring at him. Michelle had her face buried. He felt a sudden surge of guilt. "I wanna… I wanna say I'm sorry," he exclaimed, tugging against his mother. "I wasn't very nice to that little girl there! Can I—"

"For the last time, no!" exclaimed his mom, opening the car door with a jerk. "Get buckled, now."

Almost crying, Wesley obeyed. The last thing any of them heard from that family was Wesley's little brother yelling, "SPAAAAACE!" out the car window.

Rick slid down the slide as Michelle got to her feet. She looked out over the playground and saw a tall Asian woman calling her name.

"Is that your mommy?" asked Gladys. Michelle nodded. "I still don't like you," Gladys said, "but I'll let you go."

In the fickleness that youth adopts, Gladys gave Michelle a big hug. "I won't kick sand in your face anymore," she whispered in her ear. "You're my best friend."

She leaned back. "But you're not coming back," she added.

Michelle shook her head. She slid down the slide to go join her mommy.

"Michelle, wait!" shouted Gladys. She pushed a gray bucket with a pink heart on it down the slide to join her. "Take it with you!"

Michelle gathered it up in her arms and took her mommy's hand. "Come on, Michelle," her mom said softly. "Let's go home."

True to her word, Michelle never came back to that park again.

Wheatley had just enough time awakening from his dream – if you could call it that – to remember that he was dead. Void of all power, floating out in the vacuum of space.

GLaDOS had a sort of black-box quick save feature that preserved the last five minutes of life for analysis, replaying forever in what remained of a consciousness. Wheatley had learned that he had something of the same thing, except that it wasn't just the last five minutes, and it didn't just replay. His mistakes in Aperture, the core transfer, everything was recreated in scenario after scenario, sometimes the way it had happened, but often in differing degrees of reality. Sometimes he was a human. Sometimes he was an android. But in all scenarios these things were consistent: the friendship, the betrayal, and the banishment. The lingering sense of guilt never left.

And then, because he was dead, his mind started over again, replaying in a different fashion this time.

Make it stop, was his last conscious thought. Make it stop.

Once there was a spaceship called Aperture ruled by the most violent and tyrannical of interspatial warlords and her name was Glados…