[ WP ] Everything has to be paid for . Every kindness , every favour , every kind word is billable . 'The System ' monitors everybody and submits a monthly bill or credit . The price of each favour is calculated based on the wealth of the giver and that of the receiver .

`` No, no, no,'' said my pop as he snatched back a still warm wrap of burrito from the brittle and pale hands of the homeless man. I just offered my lunch to the homeless man, and yet my pop had an audacity to take it back. To my surprise, the homeless man gave it back to my pop without a fight. In fact, he willingly handed it back to my pop. I did n't know what I did wrong, but I could smell the hostility in the air. My pop pulled my arm and dragged me to our car. When I got into the passenger seat, he threw me the wrap of burrito in question. I caught it but it popped open and little pieces of rices and meats fell all over the car seat. I was so appalled at the rashness of my usually kind and generous father. 
 
 `` Did your mother taught you nothing?'' asked my pop. I did n't know what he was talking about, so I sat as still as stone statue. I did n't want to drag my mom into this. Besides, I did n't know what to do. My father placed his hands on the steering wheel and pondered for seconds. He turned and asked: 
 
 `` Son, do you know about The System?'' asked my pop, louder this time. I shook my head. I had no idea what it was. The skeletal system? The system at the smartphone? I had no idea what to say. Tut tut. My pop clicked his tongue. He only did that when he was showing his disapproval to something. To be frank, I was scared. 
 
 `` Ca n't believe how naive Sarah raised you...'' my pop mumbled to himself, but said it loud and clear enough for me to hear it. I was on the verge of tears. As I started to hiccup all terrified, he started the car engine. After driving out of the parking lot, he breathed out a deep sigh and started to talk. 
 
 `` Son.'' I did n't answer. I was too scared to answer. `` Son!'' He raised his voice. I turned to him and with squeaking voice said, `` Yes, papa?'' 
 
 `` Son, I guess it's time I tell you about the System.'' I sat and listened. 
 
 `` You see, you had your time with needles, right? At the hospital? Well, uh... where do I begin. Okay, okay. Let me start over. What you did over there was a genuine kindness. I like that you have a kindness in your heart. I am proud of you, in fact. But, with the System, your kindness can be misguided. You see, the government was very very worried about people not like you. People without kindness in their heart. So, they made the System. The System is a... system, that rewards people for being kind.'' 
 
 I was confused. He was proud of me? Then, why all the anger and the clicking of the tongue? If what I did, by giving that starving man my lunch, was good deed, which I thought it was, why was my pop so against it? The terror washed away from my mind and the curiosity rose. I could tell that my pop was trying to have his father-talk time. The one that he did back when Jimmy, our dog, died. I sat and paid my attention. 
 
 `` So, what you did today, if uninterrupted, would have been paid to you at the end of the month. The System pays you. The little tiny robots inside you can determine that and send the signal to the government. Do you understand?'' I nodded. So, the government sees what we do and pays us when we do good things, I understood. 
 
 `` But where do you think that money would comes from?'' asked my pop. I sat there and thought for a moment. `` The government?'' I guessed. 
 
 `` Ah... yeah. The government. But, where do you think the government gets their money from?'' He asked again. I recalled the last April when my father was jumping up and down and complaining about the tax taking all our money, so I answered, `` You, dad.'' 
 
 `` Uh... Technically, yes. But for the System, they'd get the money from the recipient of your kindness. For instance, in our case, that homeless person whom you gave your lunch. Do you see why it's troubling to give an unwarranted kindness to strangers? They'll have to pay up sooner or later.'' My father explained. Then, he went on to explain the socio-economic levels of the System and its adjustment to each individual cases, but those talks got too abracadabraish and I got lost. Instead, I contemplated while my father kept on talking about the philosophical design and the ethical purpose of the System to himself. 
 
 I thought about my time at home. Miss Flores was a such kind and generous lady. Whenever she baked her batch of homemade cookies, she'd hand them out to the neighborhood kids. And glasses of milk too, should there be a request. For free, or so I thought. Uncle Thomas used to help and play with the kids at the church all the time. With his carpentry skills, Uncle Thomas created toys for the children at the Sunday school. Because he loved the children, or so I thought. Mr. Rumgrain over the street walked around the neighborhood picking up the trashes. `` Hey, hey, hey. Young son, let me do these. You go play with your friends. I can do these,'' Mr. Rumgrain said. For the benevolence of the community, or so I thought. Now I was seeing the whole picture. 
 
 I turned to my dad still amid his lecture talk and asked: `` Well, dad, what's the point of the System?'' 
 
 `` To make people nicer and kinder to each other,'' my father answered, without a moment's delay. Then he went on rambling about the political impact of the System. He did n't catch onto the point of my question. Where's the real kindness in this world? What can be said to be good in this world?
