Chapter 6.
I wake up the next morning to the lights being turned on. “Five thirty” says the same young man who brought the water bottle from the night before.
I look at him through my groggily sight and nod, with his help I remove the medical stickers and sign out. “Where do you get a job like this?” I ask him. I feel comfortable around him because of his young age, even with his hard face.
He looks unsure of whether to answer me, but says “Well, I’m studying genetics at Berkley. It was a chance opportunity, really.” He finishes with the wires and gestures me out the door. I walk out and into the hallway. “Have a nice day,” he says.
I look back at him, walking the opposite way and return the courtesy. Before heading to the Café I stop in the bunk room to change clothes. When I’m done I walk in to find everyone else already eating.
I can feel a tension in the room that must have lapped over from lunch the previous day, not to mention the dinner that I missed. Thinking of dinner sets my stomach off and I grip it with one hand.
No one looks up when I enter so I walk up to the food and get myself a big plate of eggs. I pour ketchup onto it and go sit at the end of our usual table next to Willa. We exchange a smile and eat in silence.
I know I should apologize to Alexia and Figgie for being rude the day before, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
People slowly make their way out and to activity until I’m sitting alone with only Brian in the room, who happens to be sitting all the way across it. He’s looking down at the empty white plate in front of himself. His light blue shirt and plaid red button up shirt clash in a bad way.
“Hey” he says, pushing the thought into my head.
“Hey, what?” I answer back, none to politely.
I don’t look at him until he says “I’m leaving today. Will you come with me?”
I look up at him, surprised. “You know I don’t know what to believe,” I tell him, fiddling with my cold metal fork.
“Believe me,” his light blue eyes are pleading with me. I want to go with him, and maybe it could be better, but my dream from the night before haunts me. This facility is in rural California, outside of it is desert for miles around.
Dirt, sand, and more dirt. I’m not sure if I’ll be run over by a car, but the thought of dying scares me.
“I want to, really, I do. But it’s safe here. Here, right here, is where I feel safest. I wouldn’t have that out in the real world. Before I came here I was always worries about my parents finding out. Or someone else finding out and locking me away. Scorning me because I’m a freak of nature.”
“But you’re locked away in here. This is the prison you fear. Where you never wanted to be.” He pulls at his already standing on edge hair, frustrated.
“Then why are you even here? If you think it’s such a prison, why did you come here in the first place?” I ask him, I’d never really asked before and while we were on the subject I wanted to know.
“Because when I first came here I thought I deserved prison. I was a danger to people around me. A security problem. Actually, a lot of the guys thought so as well. You know Ash? Asher? He killed a man. The company paid his bail and brought him here. Want to know how he did it? He sucked the air out of the area where his professor’s head was. Asphyxiated him.”
“How did you know that? Poke around in his head a little? Looking for some dark secrets to share about people?” I ask grumpily. I’m surprised at my self for saying something like that. I know that Brian rarely ever uses what he calls his “gift” on people.
I’m actually also surprised Ash had been locked up. You would never expect it out of someone so quiet. His thin face reminded you of a child, and his fluff of brown hair atop his head mixed with his light blue eyes only made you think of gentleness and kindness.
“No!” Brian replies defensively, “Actually he told the bunk one night, so we all know. Maybe he just doesn’t share everything about himself with everyone.” He had an ugly look on his face, that matched mine. Things were falling apart and I had no idea how to fix any of it.
I felt bad for saying what I did. “I’ll ask to leave. I’ll say I was to drop out of the program. I’ll ask for a ride to the nearest city. Maybe I’ll go back to my parents in New York. Try to explain what I did and why.”
I knew I was just changing back to the original subject but I didn’t want to continue on in a conversation where I knew I was at fault for starting the argument.
“Don’t ask, please, just run away with me.”
“And what about everyone else? Leave them here? If what you’re saying is really true then we would have to stop the company. I would kill myself if we had to leave people behind.”
“When we get out we can do something about it. Go public or what not. We can do whatever you want”
I don’t react for a moment. “No. I’m asking. Today, after activity.” I get up from the table, avoiding his eyes and plump half of my eggs left on my plate into the drop off bin. I walk out and to my bunk, changing into shorts and brushing my teeth and then heading to the gym.
I walk in and the chatter is at a dim low. Activity goes by in a blur, running around on the circular track makes it easy to ignore your thoughts and focus on the ground. I talk to no one and no one talks to me. I think I prefer it that way, at least for today’s situation.
I finish early and take a long shower, trying to put off the question I will inevitably ask of the doctors. When I’m finished and dressed in black straight leg jeans and a grey tank top I stand just outside my bunk’s door way.
I pull at my hair a little, nervous for what’s coming, whether it turn out for the better or for the worse.
I look one way to the perpetually open café doors, seeing the people I have lived with for a year eating lunch, the talking level nearly back to normal, then look the other way down the hall of check up’s and testing. I turn to the right, pass through the doors and stop outside room 315.
I stand in front of the door biting my cheek. I enter. Dr. Dillard sits behind his busy looking desk covered in papers and print outs as usual.
“Michael Crane, please leave. I’m trying to finish the work on the deal you made and I won’t be able to- Oh!” His head pops over the stack of books and such and his eyes widen.
“It’s only you, Ms. Leroy. So sorry, I thought for a moment you were Mr. Crane, er, Dr. Crane, coming to bug me again about something. Sorry, I’m a bit stressed at the moment, all this work has got me befuddled this afternoon.
You’re not due for an appointment with me until five today, why are you here so early? It’s barley one, right now.”
“Sorry for startling you doctor, but I’ve just decided something.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned, folding hi hands together under his chin and pushing his glasses all the way up his nose.
“I want to leave” I say without hesitation.
“Leave?” he says, “Not this nonsense again,” he laughs a little, “It really is in your best interest to stay here with the company. Really. Besides, where would you go? You have faked your death to get here.”
“No,” I say, “I really want to leave! I want to get out of the program. It was said to me that I could leave at any time.”
“Ricki, I really must insist” he begins sternly. I interrupt him.
“No. How can I get a ride out of here? How can I sign out?”
“Ricki, you can’t leave. Not right now, at least.” he says, reaching out for my arm. I back away from him and hear the door click open behind me. I turn around and see the young man from before.
He holds a brown cardboard box shut so that I can’t see in. His white button up shirt sleeves are rolled up, and his pants are casual jeans with brown dress shoes.
“Sir, is there a problem?” he asks. Dr. Dillard stands and walks around his desk to me. I turn and look at him.
“No problem, Mr. Carter. Ricki was just expressing her wish of leaving to me. She is insisting.” Dr. Dillard looks at the man who now had a name with a meaningful name. I glance back and forth between them.
“Well alright them, Miss, please come with me this way.” says Mr. Carter. I take a step away from him.
“No, why? Why?” I ask, my voice quivering with worry and anxiety.
“Please come with me, quietly, Miss.”
“Don’t call me Miss! Why should I go with you?” I say hurriedly.
His eyes flash and he grabs my upper arm in his tight grip. “Please, madam, come with me.” I try to yank my arm out of his, but his fingers only tighten. Now is when I realize that his arm muscles are bigger than I thought.
My heart is filled with an unexplainable dread. “Please don’t make a scene.” He looks deeply into my eyes and I nod quickly, formulating a plan in my head.