by Marilyn Grey
I walked by him and stared down the aisle that separated the seats, hoping to see a familiar face when someone waved me over. “Claire!”
TWO
I sat down beside Brayden, wishing it were Blake. But at least they looked the same. Mostly the same. They were identical in every possible way, just like Audrey and me. Except I could tell them apart by two very subtle differences. Blake had the ever so slightest hint of lines edging out from his eyes and his hair, although nearly a spitting image of Brayden’s in color and style, came out a little further near his temples. Not to mention the obvious personality differences.
“You seen Blake?” he said as I scooted toward him.
I shook my head and we watched the bus fill up in silence until every seat was taken. He wasn’t much for talking, but his presence alone comforted me. At least I wasn’t completely alone.
“All right, kids,” the driver’s voice burst through the speakers. “Enjoy the ride. We will arrive in approximately forty minutes.”
I believe thirty of those minutes passed without Brayden saying a word, though I tried to make small talk about dumb stuff. He’d only nod or shake his head, sometimes neither, but I think he liked knowing I was there too. Everyone else on the bus spoke quietly, which surprised me. The bus rides to school were always obnoxiously loud. This was different. Not one of us knew where we were going. How I wished I were on the bus to school. Senior year. Prom and elective classes and fun. Not this ... this experiment I didn’t want to be a part of.
“How was your summer?” I said to Brayden as he picked at a loose string on his orange shirt. “Did you guys survive your intensive thing?”
“It was ... weird.” He pulled the string out of his shirt and formed it into a straight line on his jeans. “This sucks though.”
I nodded and stared out the window. “We stay here an entire year. You think we will have nice rooms and get to go outside?”
“Doubt it.” Bitterness oozed from his voice like moldy yogurt. “They aren’t interested in our welfare.”
“But they wouldn’t—“
“I wouldn’t talk about it. Not out loud. Not inside your head either.” He made eye contact with me for a brief second and I could see the pain in his eyes. What did he know that I didn’t? I’m sure he researched everything as much as possible. That was his way of coping with everything. Knowing as many details as possible beforehand. I think I preferred the mystery, at least then I didn’t worry so much. His eyes though ... his demeanor told me that worry was warranted.
“Okay, kids,” the driver blasted through the speakers. “We’re here. When we are parked, please file out in an orderly fashion. No talking please.”
He wouldn’t have to worry about excessive chatter with this group. I wondered if other orange senior-filled buses talked more than this one did.
The bus squealed to a stop in front of a tall building that peeked above a brick wall about the size of my house. The wall seemed to wrap around the entire building, not leaving much room for land surrounding it. We stood, all of us taking in the nature of our new home. An iron gate connected the brick wall and stood opened, welcoming us with its ivy-covered arms. The sign on the gate read, The Order of the Day. Then, just below that in smaller text it said, The Third Rite.
It made absolutely no sense to me and didn’t serve as a particularly warm entrance.
One foot in front of the other, right behind Brayden, I pushed myself forward until I found myself walking between the arched gate and entering my home for the next year. We walked on a brick path surrounded by greenery, little white flowers, and a freshly cut yard of grass. I switched my bag to my left shoulder and took one last glance of the sky, hoping it wouldn’t be the last. Two men stood at the ornate wooden doors, holding them open as we walked inside the building.
First impression: beautiful. Way more beautiful than I imagined. Not that I spent time imagining it too much.
Brass chandeliers with dangling crystals reflected specks of light throughout the entryway and a set of amazingly gorgeous steps stretched out in front of us, like something reserved for royalty. The room smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, warm and inviting. Bookshelves adorned the walls, fitted with colorful spines from top to bottom and complete with a ladder reaching its way to the top. Not too bad, I thought. Inspiring even.
I noticed the twins in front of me were given a small slip of paper before they trailed up the stairs. As I got closer I saw red ink printed on each one. Numbers. The man handing them out said, “Odd numbers to the right, even numbers to the left.” I took mine, realizing Brayden was already up the stairs and walking toward the left. I glanced at my slip as I continued forward. 413. When I reached the top of the stairs I turned right and followed the crowd toward the back of the hall. Each door to my left was closed with no signs on them. Another man stood at the end of the hall, waving everyone up the stairs and saying, “200’s are the next door up, 300’s the next, and so on.”
We continued up the spiral staircase, our heels clapping against the wood as we held the railing and stared ahead. A few people disappeared behind the first door. The 200’s. I kept going until I reached the fourth floor. Before entering the door I peered up at the ceiling and counted three more floors, making seven total.
“You going in or what?” A guy shoved me to the side as he walked through the door.
I shook my head and entered the fourth floor, surprised to find a brightly lit hallway with no one else in sight except the guy who pushed me. He went into room 401. The next door said 403. Then, 407, 409, 411, and finally 413. My door. There were no numbers between and only two doors after mine. 433 and 439. I tried to figure out the pattern, but gave up and twisted the knob while giving the door a gentle push. Nothing happened. A girl walked by me, scanned her wrist on a censor next to the door, and walked inside her room without acknowledging me. I held my wrist to my own censor. The door clicked and I finally entered, shutting it quietly behind me.
The open window carried a warm September breeze into the room, fluttering the sheer white curtains in its way. Everything was white. The bed frame and its quilt and sheets. The walls. The small dresser and the chair in the corner. White, white, white. Even the wood floor was painted white. What surprised me more than that, however, was the large television mounted across from my bed. Definitely didn’t expect to watch television here, especially considering how limited the availability was back home. Each household in our province had a television, but it only functioned one day per week with pre-programmed channels and shows. None of our electronic devices allowed video usage either. Dad said when they were kids even their phones played movies and videos of random people doing random things on the Internet, but phones had also become a thing of the past. Something I only saw in photographs. Now we had wrist watches or necklaces to access the news and communicate with others. I kind of liked it. So many photographs of the past showed people looking at their phones instead of each other. I was happy not to have an extra distraction in my life.
The television beeped and lit up. “Please sit down,” a woman’s voice said as her face suddenly stretched across the screen. “It’s time for your orientation.”
I sat down, nearly tripping onto my bed. “Can you hear me?” I said. “Is this a recording or....”
“Welcome to your new residence. I do hope you will find yourself at home here. We have a wonderful year of adventure and discovery planned for you. Let’s start with the basic rules. One, your door can be opened only from the outside. When you hear the door beep once you are permitted to leave your room for meals or some other event, but not required. If you hear three beeps you are required to leave the room and follow the directions given. Each time the door beeps the speaker next to your bed will provide directions. Meal times are not always consistent, so please do not expect a pattern. Listen to all directions closely.
“Second rule, you have probably noticed that everything in your room is white. You are required to keep everything as white as possibl
e. Cleaning products will not be provided. If your room is found to have the slightest bit of dirt you will not be permitted to leave your room for one to three days depending on the severity.
“Third, bathroom breaks are permitted when your door beeps once. You are only allowed to use the bathroom situated on the fourth floor at the end of the hall. Please keep it clean. This is also where you will take a shower when needed.
“Fourth rule, listen closely now. There is a box in the corner of your room just above the chair. Every morning at six o’clock an alarm will sound from this box and allow you ten minutes to provide a blood sample. Missed blood samples will require one day of skipped meals. It’s a very simple process. Await the alarm and the box will open a small compartment where you will place your finger. It’s only a short prick and very easy. Please be sure to keep your room clean. No drops of blood are permitted.
“These are the main rules. If you have further questions you may ask me at any time and I will do my best to answer. The television is always on and ready to be used. Further instructions will be provided via this screen or the speaker near your bed. Please relax until meal time. Tomorrow the fun will begin. Do you have any questions?”
I hesitated, then whispered, “Um, are you real or automated?”
“My name is Josephine and I am an automated but fully aware program of streaming consciousness. You can talk to me at any time as though I am your friend.”
I nodded. Can she see me? I waved.
“No, I cannot see you, but I can hear you. Please get some rest as you will need it. The bell for meal time will chime soon.”
“Oh, um, okay. Thank you.”
The television turned off automatically. I looked around the room, afraid to move, afraid to think, afraid to get dirt on something. I leaned back on my bed and let my feet dangle off the side so they wouldn’t mess up the blanket. Staring at the smooth ceiling, I tried to force myself to think positive thoughts, but tension squeezed its way around my chest whether I allowed it or not. Holding my breath, I counted down from ten, but it didn’t help. A tear formed in my right eye. I shut my eyes, hard, willing the anxiousness away and within a second it was gone.
I calmed down and my chest slowly loosened back to its normal state. It would be okay. Everything would be fine. I just needed to see Blake and Audrey and as soon as that bell rang I would. Hopefully.
I drifted off into a light sleep and woke to one ding of the doorbell. Good timing because I needed to go to the bathroom like you wouldn’t believe. I stood and smoothed the blanket on the bed, making sure everything looked white, including the floor where I had walked. Good to go, I turned the knob and entered the hall as Emily entered from the door across the hall.
I could’ve hugged her and squeezed the life out of her. I was so relieved to see a familiar face, albeit a face still new to me.
“Claire!” She rushed toward me, looked around, and whispered, “Did you meet, uh, Josephine?”
I nodded, also looking around, feeling like I was doing something wrong by talking about it.
She linked her arm with mine. “Let’s go.”
We walked to the stairs, assuming we were to follow the others back down to the main entrance. Apparently we were right as we found the cafeteria on the first floor near the back. It was just as amazing as the rest of the building, minus our rooms of course. I expected something similar to our school cafeteria with plastic green benches and a gymnasium floor. Instead, the cafeteria’s ceiling appeared to be two floors high with an extremely large chandelier hanging from the center and small chandeliers dangling down to each long wooden table, complete with individual wooden chairs with pretty designs etched into them.
Everyone else sat down and there didn’t appear to be a line for food, so Emily and I sat down too. Of course I looked around for Blake and Audrey every chance I could, but so far didn’t see them. After about ten minutes every seat was filled and men and women servers dressed in fancy suits poured out of a room near the entrance. They pushed carts toward the tables and one-by-one handed each person a plate of food. I couldn’t see what it was yet, but it smelled like delicious blackened chicken and buttery potatoes. When the steaming plate was finally set in front of me, I was surprised to see some kind of fish, quite gourmet, surrounded by rice and vegetables. I looked around and decided to wait, like the others, for some kind of sign that we could eat. Sure enough, when all the servers vanished behind the door they appeared from, a bell rang and a voice sounded from speakers. Josephine, telling us to eat.
We did. And it was the best food I’d ever tasted in my life. I savored every bite so much that I didn’t notice the conversations going on around me, people discussing the oddness of Josephine and our requirements. Perhaps I didn’t want to think too much about it all. One day at a time, that’s all I could do.
After dinner we were given dessert. A warm brownie with peanut butter, caramel, and vanilla ice cream dripping down the sides. I had only seen a brownie in old photographs. Those photographs did not do it justice. It was absolutely amazing and I wanted more. Warm, gooey chocolate with cold ice cream. Perfect. So perfect.
Emily nudged me with her elbow. “Enjoying that?”
I scooped the last bite into my mouth and raised my eyebrows while nodding.
She smiled so wide I wondered if she could possibly had been as nervous as I was. Did anyone else cry in their room before meal time? Did anyone else feel too weak to endure this ... experiment, or whatever it was?
We were ordered to exit one table at a time. When ours stood I peered around for Audrey and Blake again. Nothing. It didn’t seem like an overwhelming amount of us, but it was still too many faces to find the ones I wanted to see. Blake, I miss you, I said inside. I need to find you.
I thought of Josephine and wondered if she heard me, if she knew my thoughts at all times, but I brushed it off as silliness and silently walked with Emily back to the fourth floor. We said goodnight with as much awkwardness as possible and turned toward our doors. Her door closed a second before mine and I felt more alone than I ever had in my life.
The white room did nothing for me.
THREE
At home I always overslept, but here I woke before the sun and watched as its rays climbed through my window and lit the room little by little. I didn’t change my clothes and I refused to sleep under the blanket, worried that I might mess something up, so as soon as the bell rang three times at eight o’clock I was ready to go. I stood, brushed my hair, careful not to shed any on the floor, and waited for the door to unlock.
The speaker hissed, then came her voice. “413. 413. 413. Please exit your room and travel to the main floor where you will meet 301 for your first assignment.”
301?
“Your sister, Audrey Connelly. Do not delay.”
The door clicked and I obeyed, walking back into the hallway, down the spiral stairs, and to the main floor where an older woman dressed in a simple black dress smiled.
“You must be 413.”
I looked behind me, then back to her. “I’m Claire Connelly.”
“Yes.” She smiled and I swear her teeth sparkled in the morning light. Why did everyone’s teeth look so polished? “We refer to everyone by their room numbers when here. Did you sleep well?”
Clacking echoed through the room. I turned as Audrey held the railing like a princess and gracefully walked down the stairs in her three-inch heels and silver dress, still wearing her orange shirt over top like I last saw her. As she neared me I could tell she hadn’t slept. The circles under her eyes were obvious even under the makeup. She glanced at me as she stood beside me.
“Now that you’re both here,” the woman said. “I will escort you to your examination room.”
The woman seemed nice enough, smiling as she led us through a library of sorts, then another door, and a hallway that turned into a slope that seemed to go into a basement. The temperature dropped a few degrees as we entered through a large locked door with fla
shing red lights. Audrey’s heels continued to click and clack, a sound that oddly enough comforted me. For once.
“Right this way.” The woman held the door as we walked through, then followed behind. “You will be in this room here to the left.” She opened the door and motioned for us to go inside. “Please take a seat inside. Dr. Braikenridge will be with you in a few moments.”
We sat down on the cold, metal chairs as the door closed, leaving us alone in the strange room. We stared blankly at what appeared to be two operating tables waiting for our bodies. I cringed and tried to hide my fear while Audrey’s foot shook both of our chairs. We didn’t dare speak, but I knew I wasn’t alone. The unknown scared us both.
“Good morning, girls.” A kind-faced man stepped into view from a door behind the beds, smiling with his eyes. “I’m Dr. Braikenridge.” He stuck his hand in front of me. I shook. Then Audrey shook. “I hope you slept well.” He tapped the beds ... operating tables ... whatever they were. “We need to perform an initial examination. I will need both of you to take off every article of clothing and place them in the bin here.” He gestured beside the door. “Feel free to cover yourselves with this sheet while you’re waiting. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He left us there.
“Naked?” I said. “Like underwear and everything?”
Audrey yanked her shirt off, then her dress. “Just do what they say, Claire.”
I slipped my shirt over my head. “But ... underwear too?”
She lowered her gaze and rolled her eyes, then continued undressing with force, tossing each piece of clothing into the bin with a frustrated jerk. I slowly took everything off and reclined on the bed, pulling the sheet over my body as I blinked at the fluorescent light above me. It blinked back.
A few seconds after Audrey climbed into her bed Dr. Braikenridge came back into the room with a young woman in a nurse uniform.
“Okay, girls,” he said. “This is Nurse Popland. The other girls call her Poppie. She started out just like you.” He smiled and pat her back. “Now, first thing we are going to do is draw some blood.”