by Darren Lewis
Ten months ago the teacher had introduced the new girl and Mary remembered grimacing in embarrassment for the poor thing as she had endured it herself not too long ago. With long, brown frizzy hair that matched the colour of her skin and clothes that seemed to hang as if unsupported by a human frame the teacher loudly announced the newest member of Class Heyerdahl. To make the situation infinitely worse the teacher sat Gabby next to a girl Mary thought of as the class bitch, Brooke. Even now Mary could see in her mind's eye the look of utter disgust on Brooke's face as Gabby slid ungracefully into her seat. Gabby it seemed either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care as she sat there with her shoulders hunched protectively and her hair forming a shield, obscuring her face.
The register was taken and five minutes after all hell broke loose.
Mary glanced up and saw the tour guide pointing to a container that would easily hold her and a few other class members and possibly their worldly goods. She smiled at the memory, and a bit guiltily for daydreaming instead of listening to their guide, but the droning chatter of machinery allowed her mind to lapse into its own world once again.
An eruption had occurred where Gabby was placed. The whole class reacted in shock accompanied with gasps of awe, replaced by the strange silence when major trouble is looming close by. The eruption was the desk scraping and screeching across the classroom floor as it was shoved forward. It was followed by chairs toppling backwards as their former occupants came swiftly to their feet. What Mary saw sent a trickle of fear straight into her stomach. Gabby was holding Brooke against the wall, seemingly with no effort for such a light frame, with one hand placed on Brooke's chest while the other was cocked back over Gabby's shoulder, trembling with effort and perhaps anticipation, aimed for Brooke's petrified face.
“Call me that again!” Mary had sworn at the time that Gabby had whispered but she was able to hear the girl clearly. “I dare you! Call me 'coloured' again!”
The teacher of course had rushed over, but rather than restraining Gabby had stopped very close to the girl and whispered into her ear. After ten seconds, or ten hours as far as Mary was concerned, the new girl had lowered her fist and released Brooke with a contemptuous snort. Then without pause or a backwards glance Gabby left the room. The teacher had turned a stern gaze on the class, muting the rumblings of excited conversation before returning the desk to its place, the chairs upright and Brooke to her seat.
“Line up outside the hall in five minutes for assembly. Mary please see to it.” And with that the teacher left the room also, leaving Mary to nod dumbfounded at a closing door. The door clicking shut was naturally the sign for every member of the class to burst into voice, questioning Brooke about the incident, some laughing as at one time or another they'd felt the lash of Brooke's tongue, others quieter as they realised quicker than their fellow class mates that something troublesome had entered their lives and they would have to put up with it on a daily basis. That aside Mary couldn't believe that even Brooke could be ignorant enough to bandy about racial epithets and turned her gaze on the girl. Brooke's eyes were in constant movement around the classroom and she was pale enough for Mary to wonder if Brooke was going to vomit. A few of Brooke's 'friends' approached her and the small group tried to laugh off the whole situation. Mary sighed and banged her fist down on the table.
“Assembly everyone.”
Mary cast a quick look at the unassuming girl at her side as they mounted metal stairs bolted to the side of some great piece of whirring machinery. As well as she knew Gabby now, Mary would never be afraid of her best friend, but on that day Mary had been frightened. Gabby sensed the look and turned an excited smile on Mary before her attention was drawn back to their guide.
The background and outcome of that day ten months ago quickly became common knowledge through gossip and rumour interspersed with the truth. Mary listened to all the gossip in the playground and was amazed to find out that even her parents had a version of what happened that day. But whatever was true Mary made sure, as did nearly every member of the school, to avoid the 'troubled black kid.'
In class Gabby now sat by herself near the teacher's desk. She was there when Mary and her classmates entered and she would be the last to leave when the final bell rang. Mary couldn't exactly remember when the two of them spoke in earnest, only that their friendship was set on one particular day when Mary was standing by the teacher's desk reciting a speech made by Hamlet. The majority of the class looked bored but as Mary uttered the line “What a piece of work is man.” She happened to see Gabby's face through the wall of hair used as a shield. “How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty.” Mary had continued and though she knew the lines by heart she stumbled slightly as she saw the appreciation in the dark brown eyes of the girl before her. “Um…uh.” The hair parted further revealing Gabby's face and her moving lips, whispering.
“In form and moving…” Gabby had prompted.
“In form and moving, how express and admirable.” And Mary had continued after that without another stumble. Delight had registered upon Gabby's face at Mary's recital and as Mary continued to explain why Hamlet had become so disenchanted with the human race she saw the keen interest in the troubled girl's eyes.
It wasn't until a week later however when a chance encounter brought the girls together in the bathroom. Mary was washing her hands when Gabby entered the toilets and Mary cast her gaze towards the sink, concentrating furiously on the water and bubbles, her face reddening as she tried to finish up as quickly as possible. A murmur from her left shoulder caused Mary to look involuntarily for the sound and she saw Gabby standing behind her. Rather than her discomfort growing it was erased in an instant as the girl who'd nearly whacked a fellow classmate was offering a shy smile.
“Sorry?” Mary cocked her head while shaking wet hands into the sink. The smile twitched in embarrassed amusement.
“I love Shakespeare.”
Mary nodded in agreement and then grinned.
“Me too, but the comedies are bloody awful.” Gabby snickered a laugh and Mary caught a glimpse of the real girl behind the reputation. Mary turned fully and lifted a hand.
“Mary.”
Gabby paused but only for a moment before doing likewise and clasping Mary's offered hand. As soon as their hands met Mary cringed as she realised she hadn't dried her hands, but Gabby laughed it off and with her free hand swept the hair she used as a protective shield away from her face.
From that time forward the girls spent break and lunchtimes together, avoiding the playground and the snide and asinine comments of some over their blossoming friendship. Mary at first tried to in some way defend the words and actions of others as their school was located in the countryside and had yet to experience other creeds to the degree larger towns and cities had. Gabby had listened with great interest and sad eyes before shrugging and advising Mary she had heard worse but that Mary should never defend or apologise for what Gabby considered racist comments. Mary never apologised again.
The two friends sought solace within the quiet walls of the school library. Here Mary learned of Gabby's past while shrouded by the silence of the library, the atmosphere at times reminiscent of a confessional at church with Mary performing the part of priest. Abandoned by her drug addicted parents at the age of eight, Gabby had entered the care system and she deemed her fortune as astounding as her carers were kind, compassionate and trained to deal with a girl with Gabby's apparent emotional problems, not that they were going to vanish overnight. When Gabby spoke of where she lived at present her voice was marked by a soft tone, as if thankful in her own way that she'd escaped the hell of her parents. But when speaking of her parents Mary not only heard but saw the fire writhing within this damaged girl. That she hated her parents was clear, her anger towards them was almost a living beast in its own right. But Mary saw and sometimes heard beneath the anger was the loss, and the love. At times it would be the inexplicable love and need of a child for their parents regardless of how badly
they had been mistreated. When this would fade from Gabby's eyes Mary saw the questions generated by that love but fuelled by anger. Why didn't you love me? Was I not good enough? How could you?
Mary simply listened. She offered no advice as she could think of none and refused to litter meaningless bullshit on such an open, sore wound. Arriving home from school that particular day, Mary embraced both her parents, shocking them both, before bursting into tears over another's pain.
From then on they studied together, gossiped together, spoke about all things music, television and film but above all that was a desire, a thirst they seemed to share, albeit in separate subjects. Mary was driven by the arts. She performed in the school plays, wrote prose and fiction and though completely untalented with oils and a canvas she had a wonderful eye through a camera lens. For Gabby her passion was mathematics and science, of any sort. While Mary read Dylan Thomas while sat upon the sofa in the library, shoes off and feet curled up under her, Gabby was sat at a desk close by, reading Stephen Hawking, Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson. Both would also share their passion of Shakespeare and could often be found in the corner of the library whispering lines from Othello, The Merchant of Venice, King Lear and so on. Discussing characters, plot, the drama and one aspect that intrigued Mary, was Shakespeare a single playwright or many.
“So here we are at the main viewing platform. This offers us the best vantage point of the station and though not everything can be seen from here I'm sure you'll agree it's an impressive sight.”
Mary blinked in surprise as Gabby rushed forward for a prime viewing spot, the excited girl turned and waved her friend over.
“Wow, Mary, look at this!” Mary smiled at her friend's keen excitement. When their science teacher had announced the visit to the nuclear power station the response was one straight out of the teenage manual of boredom for nearly all. Jokes were made and several of the boys wanted to invest in lead underwear but Gabby had been beside herself. To see such immense power and energy created, or at least the machinery and technology first-hand was a special treat for her. Mary was firmly settled in the 'boring' camp hence the threat to Chinese burn her friend if she let her excitement reach intolerable levels on the coach journey. Mary had to admit to a touch of appreciation for craftsmanship as she looked out over the machinery before her as it was big, extremely big, and noisy and that was as far as Mary cared about it. Their tour guide sensing at least one interested individual in Gabby moved close and pointed at the far wall, quite a distance away.
“We're permitted to take four of you at a time into the main control room over there.” The man watched and tried not to smile too much at Gabby's widening eyes. “I assume you'd like to be in the first group?” Gabby nodded furiously and turned a stunning smile on her friend. Mary smiled in return and then sighed.
* * *
Mary cast a disapproving eye about the control centre as she, their school teacher, Gabby and somehow, Brooke into the large circular room. Judging by the comments made by their enthusiastic tour guide as they made their way across the station's main floor Mary expected to see something akin to the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, with fantastical displays projecting the inner workings of the station, stream lined furniture gleaming white and pristine. Unfortunately, she was met with a circle of bland, dull white facades on the rim of the room with a few diagrams and blinking lights. The office furniture was new, but a dull brown affair, made for its robustness rather than its aesthetic qualities. Two rows of desks housing computer screens were placed near the centre and temptingly showed more interesting graphics though Mary was sure one of the engineers or technicians was quickly attempting to close down a game of Solitaire. Their tour guide for the day had hustled them into the control room and handed them over to the station's Chief of Operations, Jeremy Anderson.
“All information feeds through to this room and to these gentlemen.” A slight pause allowed each man sitting to turn and nod a greeting. “Information such as core temperature, pressure, energy production and so on. Suffice to say that we are the most efficient, in terms of logistics and conversion to electricity in the entire country.”
Mary switched off from the technobabble and let her eyes wander away from the computer displays. Without consciously thinking her eyes settled on a display close by. It showed what she thought was the room she was in and the main station surrounding them, each area was lit by a green bulb which Mary took as a good sign. Below this display was another, the outer area the same size as the entire station but with much smaller compartments or rooms, each lit by a red bulb.
“Mary? What was that?” Mary turned with a bemused expression on her face to Mr Harris.
“Hmm?”
“You said something, or asked a question?” He prompted. Mary looked over to Gabby who was nodding with a slight smile and then over to Brooke who simply rolled her eyes in embarrassment for her. Mary flushed and cleared her throat.
“Sorry. I simply wondered what this area was lit by red? Red can't be all that good surely?” Mary finished quietly, biting a nail in nervousness. The technicians and Jeremy chuckled softly and he moved to where Mary was standing.
“This,” he explained pointing a finger to the green bulbs, “is us. This area lit by the red is classified under the Official Secrets Act.” Mary pursed her lips and nodded in understanding before frowning.
“But why would an area of a nuclear power station be classified?”
Mr Harris groaned and Jeremy smiled. Gabby raised her thumb to give Mary an ironic OK signal. Jeremy led Mary away, grinning all the while.
“Honestly it's nothing to worry about. I know after all these years nuclear power still gets a bad reputation which is why we sponsor these visits. But there's nothing here that need concern you.” Mary shrugged and was about to apologise when a shrill alarm blared and every bright fluorescent light in the room flickered out to be replaced by dark red.
* * *
The terrible sound overrode nearly every other sense Mary possessed. Every technician in the room was shouting, some on telephones, others on walkie-talkies and also at each other, all in an effort to be heard over the pounding alarm.
Not a good design if it's too loud. Mary thought, her mind sluggish, unwilling to come to terms with what an alarm at a nuclear power station could indicate.
One voice rose above all others in the dark red gloom.
“Shut that goddamn alarm off! Jesus Christ!”
A moment of silence, at least from everyone in the room, fell before a few taps on a keyboard brought total silence. Mary's ears whined and she screwed her eyes in pain. Gabby was busy holding her nose and pulling awful faces as she attempted to unblock her ears. Mary wanted to tell her that was pointless but she seemed distant to her surroundings. Everyone was speaking again but quieter and a lot calmer. Mr Harris was clutching Brooke's shoulders as the girl was only a few moments away from reaching hysteria. The chief, bathed in the red light of the control room resembled a shop mannequin. He had become stock still, the only indication of life was the sweat running down his face, already soaking his shirt collar in the short space of time since the alarm had begun. Random snatches of conversation seemed to drift towards Mary rather than any effort on her part to hear them.
“Core temperature is stable.”
“Turbines functioning perfectly.”
“Water pressure is fine. I can't see what's wrong!”
“Then what the hell is wrong and who sounded the alarm!”
A high pitched whine made each person cry out and clutch their ears. Fortunately, it was over in a few seconds to be replaced by the crackles and pops of a speaker coming to life.
“Initiate quarantine, effective immediately. Code Manhattan, repeat Code Manhattan. This is not a drill, repeat this is not a drill.”
The speaker died with one last crackle as the words played out in the imaginations of the rooms occupants. The lighting switched automatically from red back to the harsh fluorescent glare of
five minutes ago. Gabby had wandered over to Mary and without thinking, they were holding hands for reassurance and comfort. What scared Mary more than anything though were the expressions on the station employees. All now bore a deathly pale countenance. It was their eyes where Mary could not bear to look. All of them, without exception, had the look of a person who'd gazed into Hell itself and seen it was where they were bound.
* * *
“Move! Come on!” Without pause for explanations the three girls and their teacher were each grabbed and propelled towards a metal door on the far side of the control centre. Any objections or questions were ignored as the door was quickly opened via one of the technician's swipe card. Banging on the far side of the control room drew Mary's attention and she heard muffled voices screaming incoherently. The door she and the others had entered into this area not ten minutes ago was the focus of the noise and Mary realised the voices were of her classmates and their tour guide. Her shoulder was grabbed once more and she was pushed through the open doorway. A long set of metal stairs followed and all four of the visitors fell silent as they were forced to negotiate the hasty trip down into the dark below. Mary tried to follow the short, sharp conversations being held around her.
“My class, my kids!”
“We're on lockdown now! There's no going back!”