The Happy Happy Village

Bad Whiskey (Part-4)

-Some Inside Information-

"Your kidding! You can't be serious! Your pulling my leg!" All were my thoughts that ran through my head as I stared blankly at everyone in the room. To think that a common oath could be taken to the extreme and have the heart actually removed as an actual offering. How could the blood even flow without a human heart, the body's most important vital organ aside from the brain?! An even better question, and the question I wound up saying in my haze of hysteria, "How are you still alive?" my hand dropped to its side, "Impossible." I muttered.

"Not sure if that was a good idea to tell you, but it's true," Gordon said, "As a sign of swearing oath, the heart is removed, but I can promise you that it isn't as painful as it sounds. By removing the heart, we're actually granted the gift of immortality. We never age as long as we live in the Happy Village. That's life for us Mr. Eliot."

"And Ms. Mercedes does this? She can really remove hearts with her hand?" I'd never see Ms. Mercedes the same ever again, as my views of her would only change more and more as this story goes on. For a town that looked so plain and simple, it really did have a few secrets for me to find in a dark basement. I began to cringe as I imagined Ms. Mercedes pulling my own heart from my own chest. But it could've sounded a lot worse, it could've been an open heart surgery while I was wide awake, and Ms. Mercedes was chanting some demonic swan song.

"The process isn't that bad actually," Harold explained, attempting to reassure me, "I didn't feel anything if it makes you feel better. But we all have to do it, even our children. When they come of age we gather in the middle of the street for the ceremony."

"And what exactly happens in this ceremony?" I said feeling a bit tense in my voice.

"Well, there's the heart removal," Harold tried to explain without making it sound completely awkward, "and then there's the initiation where they receive their equal marks. We all have them." He turned around and lifted a patch of hair, revealing a black equal sign on the back of his head. Like a perfect tattoo almost.

"Do they paint them on?"

"No," Lisa nervously added, "they take a hot branding iron and press it on the spot they want to mark. After the swelling is gone, then it's painted black. It's not awful, of course if you leave out the pain the comes afterwards." I had no more words to add to that, just a bunch of ghost pains that haunted the back of my neck. "But back to the problem of leaving the village without our hearts, we can't do it."

"Why not?"

"When someone tries to leave the village or at least try to leave through the forest, they die. They fall to the ground and die."

"Die? Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that. We'd need our hearts back if we plan to leave," The woman edged closer to me, "may I hear your heart beat one more time?" It was odd, but I let her. She placed her head up to my chest to hear my heart, only this time she looked to savor the whole moment. "Yes, it sounds so good." I then wondered exactly how many guests are pulled aside when she does this regularly. I would say not many.

I then said, "Well why not just go get your hearts back? If Ms. Mercedes can remove them she can put them back can't she?"

"We're not so sure about that Mr. Eliot," Gordon nervously added, "no one, and I mean no one who has ever joined ever wanted to leave. No one has ever asked her, and were all afraid to do it."

"Ms. Mercedes only wants us to be happy," Harold added, "life here may be bland but she is only doing what she thinks is best for us, or at least that's what we thought until recently. Though the three of us could agree that being allowed to leave would be the best for us." I was astonished yet pitiful, to see not only one but three villagers who desire to leave, only to fear their leader who seemed joyful and calm on the surface. I wished there something I could do to help them.

"I don't think you three should be kept here against your will," I said to them, "this may be Happy Happy Village, but it's located here in the United States, land of the free and opportunity. There is always going to be opportunity, it's just not here." Amendment 1 just says it all, freedom of speech, religion, and even protest. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"We don't know John," Gordon replied grimly, "we're a little bit scared to try anything really."

And in that moment, I saw Lisa perked up with an open smile. Surly she had something to share with the rest of the class. "Where are you from Mr. Eliot?" she asked with anticipation.

"Elwood," I answered, "why do you ask?"

"Elwood?" she parroted back, "Oh my, this is perfect! Maybe you can't help us, but I think you can help her."

"Lisa!" Gordon said in a shocked expression, not at all approving of Lisa's seemingly hyper state of mind, "Are you sure? You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking."

"He's perfect Gordon," Lisa explained, "He'll take her right out the village!"

"It's risky." Harold said. He clearly knew what she was saying, but of course I didn't. Play the pronoun game with me why don't you?

"Who's she?" I then asked. "What do you mean it's risky? What are you talking about?" I required some context. Before any of the three could provide said context, a familiar voice which sounded awfully cheery and very friendly called out from the entrance of the cellar. Ms. Mercedes had returned.

"Oh John, where are you?" she continued to call, "Your house is ready! Mr. Eliot?"

The villagers all exchanged guilty looks at one another. They looked like as if they just committed a crime of some sorts. "You must go," Gordon whispered, "quickly Mr. Eliot!" Lisa began to escort me towards the bottom of the stair case as her husband followed.

"Why did you ask where I'm from?" I quickly asked her, wanting answers before I left, "Can't you tell me?"

"No," Lisa quickly replied, "not now Mr. Eliot!"

"Some things are not meant for certain ears," Gordon tremored, "now go, we'll talk later! We'll explain everything to you!" Harold then took my arm and began to walk me up to the live bar.

"Please come back as soon as you can!" Lisa urgently added, "And don't discuss anything with Ms. Mercedes, whatever you do. Absolutely nothing we've discussed leaves this cellar!"

I had no words to reply. Everything happened so fast I was just too confused to follow what was happening. We stepped out of the basement only to be greeted by Ms. Mercedes. "Oh, there you are John!" she softly exclaimed like a child.

"Here he is Ms. Mercedes!" Harold said putting on a big smile and a jolly tone, "He's all yours!"

"Well then Harold," she smiled back, "if you don't mind I'll be showing Mr. Eliot where he'll be staying tonight. What were you showing Mr. Eliot down in your whiskey cellar?"

"Oh, nothing really," Harold said stretching his smile very wide, "I was just showing Mr. Eliot where we kept all the whiskey! He really is a curious one isn't he?"

"Curious?" she looked at Harold with a calm expression, looking deep into Harold's eyes. She gave a calm relaxed grin, "That's very thoughtful of you Harold." She giggled, "Very thoughtful. Come along John!" She turned around and took me by the shoulder and began to move me out of the bar. "It'll only be for a few minutes John, then you can come back and enjoy whatever it was you were doing."

I didn't know what could've been more off, Ms. Mercedes acting awfully smiley to me all of a sudden, or Ms. Mercedes giving that suspicious look at Harold. He definitely was faking it, and it looked the same as the first time. He was hiding something, his wife and his worker Gordon were hiding something. Something they most definitely didn't want Ms. Mercedes to know about...

...something that I would unfortunately become a part of that very evening.