The Good Person Certificate

"You nervous?"
"Huh?"
"Are you nervous?  About the test?"
"Uh...a little bit."
"Almost everybody gets the certificate."
"Yeah."
"I don't even know anybody who hasn't."
"I know a few people."
"Really?"
"Yeah, just...just people."
"You need to get it for your work, I'm assuming?"
"I'm a nurse, or--I'm studying to be."
"Oh yeah.  So you need the G certification."
"Almost everybody needs it now."
"Everybody except serial killers."
"How do they do it?"
"Do what?  Certify you?"
"Yeah."
"They hook you up to some machine.  It gives them a reading or something.  Tells them whether you're a good egg or a bad egg.  Just like in the chocolate factory."
"Does genetics have anything to do with it?"
"I don't know.  Nobody really knows how it works."
"Because my father...uh...he didn't pass.  He got a B."
"Oh yeah?  What'd he do after that?"
"He was a mechanic for awhile.  But then he started drinking.  Then my mom left him, and...it was bad."
"It's tough when you get a B."
"Nobody wanted to live near us.  Because they publish where the B's live.  So we had to go live near other B's, except my mom didn't want to and she was a G so--"
"So she just left him?"
"We tried to live near the B's at first, just, right on the edge, you know?  But there were so many, just, really bad people there--"
"They keep saying one day they're going to get levels.  One day they're going to come up with B1 and B2, but they've been saying that for years.  So there's no difference between a rapist or a pedophile and a person who's just bad but doesn't act on it."
"That was my dad.  He wasn't a--I mean, he wasn't a kind person, but he never did anything wrong.  His father used to beat him everyday, and I guess that must have driven the good out of him or something, but he wasn't dangerous to anybody."
"Whatever process they have is black or white.  Right or wrong.  And you can't beat it."
"I've been trying to guess whether or not I'll pass.  I've been thinking a lot about whether or not I'm a good person."
"They tell you not to think about it.  They say if you think about it too much you might actually cause yourself to fail."
"I know, but I can't help it.  If I don't get certified, I can't become a nurse.  I don't know what I'll do.  You can't even become a waitress without a G certification."
"I'm just doing it because I'm getting married."
"I didn't know it was required for--"
"It's not.  Not yet anyway.  But my father-in-law is insisting on it.  And my fiance said--'What's the harm?  Not like you have anything to hide, right?'  But how do I know, you know?  Anyway, I love her, so what choice do I have?  I'm here."
"This whole thing just seems out of hand."
"Reminds me of the Sneeches.  The Dr. Seuss book?  Stars upon thars."
"Except we're talking about good people and bad people."
"Who's to say what's good and bad?  Who are you or what you do?  Mother Theresa could have been a real bitch, but she still did a lot of good."
"Like you said, it's not a great system."
"It's crazy is what it is."
"No way around it though."
"Not unless you want people looking at you funny.  Wondering why you haven't been tested."
"I'm going to hate wearing that stupid button all the time."
"G-CERTIFIED.  What a load of bullshit.  You can buy that button online."
"Yeah, but if they catch you wearing a non-issued button--"
"Punishment, punishment."
"Like I said, things have gotten out of hand."
"Yeah, but nobody cares, because most people get certified, and once you're certified, you don't give a shit about the people who aren't."
"I still give a shit.  I still think about my father.  Branded his whole life.  At least until he..."

. . . . .

"I'm not going to pass."
"What?"
"I told my fiance I'd get tested, but I've been tested before, and I haven't passed."
"You're a--"
"I don't know what it is.  I feel like a good person, I really do, but...I guess I'm wrong."
"Oh, I didn't...I...."
"I keep trying to change it.  I volunteer at soup kitchens.  I donate most of what I make to charity.  I smile twenty-four hours a day.  I can't stand the thought of that B stuck to me my whole life."
"And nothing's--?"
"Nothing works."
"Well...maybe today it will."
"Yeah, maybe today."
"And if it--"
"Then the wedding's off.  I'll be on my own."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry yet.  Let's see what happens."
"I'll say a prayer for you."
"Thanks.  You seem really nice."
"I hope I am.  I really hope so."