by Cameron Jace
16
Bedtime
Leo tucks me in my royal bed with care, as if I am still a little child. It’s a sentimental gesture that feels so good and so bad at the same time. I don’t remember being tucked into bed by my parents when I was a kid. How did that happen? Or is it just another lost memory from eating Woo’s chocolates when I was young?
“Want me to sing you a bedtime song?” Leo smiles, sitting at the edge of my bed while I am on my back. I should have insisted on him leaving with Faustina and Vern after the rest had gone back to the Playa.
What are you doing, Decca? It’s after midnight already. You shouldn’t be here alone with him!
“Shut up,” I murmur at the cuckoo in my head.
Leo raises a single eyebrow. “I didn’t know you hated bedtime stories that much,” he says. “Want a cup of warm milk before you sleep then?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say. “It’s that… ” I point silently at my brain, trying not to meet his eyes.
“Oh,” Leo says. “The cuckoo in your head?” he muses.
“What?” I furrow my brows at him. “How do you know about—“
“The cuckoo?” He says. “We all have one. You’re not that special, Decca,” he teases me and bows over suddenly and brushes my nose with his. Either he is being too silly or he is seducing me slowly. I don’t like his breath so close to mine right now. Definitely not.
Liar!
“So you have a cuckoo in your head, too?” I ask casually as if I am not confused being alone with him in my bed. How can I tell him to just go away without offending him? He’s already been too good to me in a way that I almost don’t deserve.
“Yeah,” He says. “That little funny creature humming ideas to me all the time. Sometimes it contradicts me and opposes me, and it sometimes wins,” He says as his features turn serious. He pulls the blanket up and covers me with it as if he is about to leave. “Like now, for instance. The cuckoo reasons with me and stops me from kissing you.”
I try not to shrug. I try to keep my pupils from widening, and I pretend I didn’t hear that. I end up speechless, afraid that whatever I say will expose me. It will show through my voice or the way I breathe. Don’t mess with me, Leo.
“Given all those emotions you’re unsuccessfully trying to hide right now, I take it that your cuckoo wants to fight with my cuckoo.” He winks.
“Big time,” I let out something like a laugh and hit him on the shoulder. How come he is only interested in me? With all that charm he possesses, why me? Stop it, Decca. You know you feel for him.
“Don’t touch me,” He teases my hand anyway. “That’s five zollars every time you touch.”
I can’t help but giggle. I know now why Pepper can’t help herself. Leo is just so laid back it scares me. Maybe if I had met him before the Monster Show, I wouldn’t feel that way. But I’ve had nightmares since the Monster Show, reminding me of the horrors we faced and the people who died. How can Leo be so cool?
“Stop it cuckoo,” Leo knocks on my head playfully. “Don’t tell her lies about me.” The back of his hand brushes lightly against my cheek. Even though I want to resist it, I can’t help it, closing my eyes to his tender touch. This could be your life right now, Decca. You and Leo. Happily ever after, sleeping every night next to him and to his tender touch. What the hell is wrong with you?
I finally manage to push his hand away. It is a painful thing to do as I feel ripped from something that belongs to me.
Leo puffs impatiently. “I can’t believe this thing is about Woo.” He almost whispers to himself.
“I am not sure it’s about him,” I lie. I know it is. The attraction I feel toward Woo, except when he treats me bad, is undeniable – and yet unbelievable.
“You know, we could find us two tickets out of Faya right now and leave this place behind,” Leo doesn’t give up, although his talk isn’t as tender as before. “I am a Nine, and you’re a Ten. We could apply to leave on vacation and never come back.”
“The Summit won’t approve,” I say, averting the conversation from the fact that I don’t want to leave Faya until I save the Monsters – and Woo.
“Why not? They usually approve Eights and Nines.” Leo shakes his shoulders.
“But they won’t approve me leaving Faya. Think about it. I am their golden egg. I bring the money in with my show. So until that changes, they will not give up on me.”
“I get your point,” Leo lowers his head as if he had never thought about it. I am really confused about how loving me has stripped him of his edginess and alert mind. Who said that love should be like that? “It’s too bad because I have noticed that whoever leaves Faya, never returns.”
“What?” His remark alerts me.
“It’s true. I checked all the records of those very few who were allowed to travel abroad and I found out they never came back. Take Ariadna for instance.”
“You’re absolutely right,” I say, remembering that I don’t know someone who has traveled away and returned. “Why do you think that is? Is the world outside Faya much better?”
“Must be.”
“But how? I was watching all the disasters in the world on TV yesterday. They are no different from us. Don’t you see how the Far East turned our Monster Show into a Wargame Show?”
“You’re not believing everything you see on TV, are you? I know a lot of Far Eastern people through the internet. Some of them are absolutely amazing.”
“How do you do that? We can’t contact non-Fayans in any way.” I ask.
“I was a member of the Breakfast Club once, Decca. I can do a lot of things.”
“So why don’t you tell me more about the Breakfast Club instead of sweet talking me into leaving?” I prop myself on one arm, my face reddening. I can't stand that nobody wants to tell me more about what’s going on in Faya.
“You have Woo to ask for that,” Leo says harshly, standing up. “You chose him over me already. Let him help you with that.”
I sit gawking as I watch him walk to the door. What’s this thing about relationships? If you don’t get what you want you just walk out on someone you love?
Did you say, ‘relationships’? Mr. cuckoo smirks.
Holding the doorknob before closing it, Leo turns around. “You know what’s the difference between Woo and me?” He says, his eyes a little misty, but his gaze strong and firm. “I will never give up on you, even if you’re with him because that would be a bad choice for you.” He says and walks out through the door. I don’t know whether he didn’t want to look at me after what he just admitted or what. “You take care of Honeybee,” Leo says on the other side of the door.
“She was all I had left of you. Mmuah.”
What? What! Was that too romantic or did he show some stalker behavior in that last sentence?
I sink back into bed, listening to him yelling his last words as he leaves the Mansion. His last words assure me that he is still the Leo I know. The one who makes me smile.
“I have a six pack for God’s sake. He’s got nothing!” His voice echoes in the halls of the mansion.
“Four!” I scream back with a smile on my face.
It’s amazing how easily I fall asleep after this, although something tells me I am going to wake to a disaster.
17
Woo Again
When I wake up in the middle of the night, I’m in total darkness except for the lampstand next to me. It certainly catches my attention. The lampstand and the envelope on the commode. I reach for it, my eyes already reading the words on the back: from Leo.
Furiously I reach for it and open the envelope. Inside there is a letter. A long one.
It would have made sense if it were really from Leo. But Leo only left here for me. The letter is Woo’s. Some sort of a diary. How it got into Leo’s hands, I have no idea.
The letter is three years old, and I can’t stop myself from reading it:
The first day of
the Monster Games is the hardest.
In order to survive, I have to do something utterly horrible. When I think of it now, this is how the world in Faya works when you are ranked a Monster.
Kill, or be killed.
Cowardly panicking, I am running aimlessly along with thousands of Monsters like me, thrown into the Playa—a place that our ancestors once called Disneyland.
I never planned on running in the beginning. I'd sworn I'd stand in the way of whatever evil my horrendous government threw at us. I believed that I was ready to rebel against them.
But now when I see the enormous balls rolling down from the sides of the Battlefield, the instinct for survival takes me over, and I run among the poor sixteen-year-old Monsters, hoping to escape.
The huge balls look like discotheque balls—the Summit, our government, always makes sure they add their touch of sinister sense of humor while killing us. The balls are the size of a huge truck.
Endless balls are rolling over thousands of sixteen-year-old children the system considers useless, and have been labeled Monsters, the lowest rank in a society where teenagers are ranked on a scale from five to nine once they turn sixteen. Anything below a five is a Monster. I am a Monster, and I have to fight for my life in broadcasted games if I want to get ranked.
I don't know what force blasts the balls toward us, but I assume some kind of magnetic field is present. Who cares? There is no time to think and we have to run. All I know is that while running with your back to the walls, you never want to stop because you'll never know when one will close in and squash you to the ground like a miserable cockroach out of the sewer.
I run. Pant. Ashamed that I am running scared. Because I am Woo. I am not supposed to run. I am supposed to stand in the face of the Summit. I am supposed to be the first to ever win the Monster Show. I am designed to win, so I am told.
Blood splashes onto my face as I run. Someone's blood. A sixteen-year-old girl or boy’s downgraded from human to pawn because of the small palm-sized machine invented by a human in the first place. The iAm.
Blood spatters, I keep running, trying to avoid the thought that whoever died just now might be someone I know; a neighbor, a friend, or someone I played soccer with—although I never went to school and was mostly introverted, I couldn't escape the mere possibility.
"The Monsters Must Die!" I hear the audience screaming on my iAm, the phone-like device in the back of my pocket. We're supposed to scream, 'I Am Alive' in it, as loud as we can, if we survive each game. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, the Summit, and all citizens of Faya, consider the crushing balls, a game.
I touch the iAm in my back pocket as I run. Another big boy plows into me as I do, and I lose my balance. But I keep trying to run.
"I am not going to die today!" the huge kid screams.
My legs are twisting and I find that I can't run and keep my balance because of the shock. If I fall, I will be crushed mercilessly and ironically by a huge discotheque ball.
What's wrong with you, Woo? You're not going to die. This is the first game. You still have three days to go.
I manage to regain balance in my twisting legs and keep running. A little slower, but soon I will gain momentum.
I reach back again for the iAm, but it's not there.
What?!
I keep probing my back to find it. It's not there. I must have lost it when the boy hit me. I can't lose my iAm. How am I going to scream ‘I Am Alive’ in it?
I have to stop.
I do and turn around instantly.
A crushing ball is heading my way. I fall and roll on my back to evade it. I feel the rush of wind caused by the rolling ball as I lay on the ground for three or four seconds. I feel the coldness the ball exudes on the back of my neck. The ball was so close.
Then I realize, not only is another ball coming, but also a horde of teenagers who will run me over, just like the ball.
I breathe in and out a couple of times, like a dying boxer in the midst of the last round. Then I stand up.
A boy pushes me out of the way, but I push him back. His head hits an oncoming ball. Blood spatters on my face again.
In a fraction of a second, I want to say 'I Am Sorry' instead of 'I Am Alive', but I realize that this is how the game is played. You can't be a hero in this goddamn place. You just can't. Although you know everyone here doesn't deserve to die, you can only take care of yourself. You have to let others die.
It seems like a long thought, a sinister epiphany, but I find myself running again. This time I am running backwards against the coming balls—and hordes of teenagers.
I am barefoot. I always liked to walk barefoot. My favorite childhood character is Peter Pan. Of course, the people of Faya don't know who that is. Prophet Hannibal Xitler just forged everything he deemed valuable throughout history into something else for his own amusement.
If I could run naked, I would. I want to be free from everything this government provides, even the bits and pieces of a poor boy's clothes I wore. I want to declare I am not one of them. I am a Monster. And I am proud.
"Run, Woo, Run!" I scream.
I try to find a long line backwards where no balls can come my way, but it is hard to predict since the balls skew from their lanes whenever they run over a teenager.
Still, I run ahead, evading whatever wants to kill me.
My plan isn't to lose on my way back while I am looking for my iAm. I doubt I can find it, but what is the point of running if I lost my iAm?
Under no circumstance does the Summit consider you alive if you have no iAm to scream into. Not even if they see with their own cameras.
A ball diverts suddenly and rolls faster my way. I swirl like a ballerina and avoid it by a mere foot or two. The trick isn't to just avoid the ball you see coming your way. The trick is to look for the next ball coming once you escape the first one. There is no time for small victories. The probability of dying never ends.
Not until you reach the finish line, which I am running in the opposite direction from now.
The hardest part though is to look for my iAm on the ground. Look ahead. Make sure nothing is too close. Sneak a peek at the ground. Look up again. Hit the annoying student trying to run you over. Welcome to the Playa. Welcome to my life.
Two minutes in, I have evaded about ten balls. And killed three students. I try not to think about it. I have no time to think about it.
I realize what kind of Monster the Summit has made out of me. And I have no choice.
What confuses me the most is the number of iAms scattered on the ground everywhere, spattered with blood, and split into halves. Every dead teenager's iAm is on the ground.
I know now that I am never going to find mine in this maze. And I can't use anyone else’s. You can't use a dead boy or girl's iAm.
There is one exception to the rule, though. If someone who is alive grants you electronic permission to use his iAm.
Nice trick, Faya! Who would ever sacrifice their own iAm for someone else? Even lovers wouldn't go that far, although I'd do it if Decca was here with me. She isn't. I made sure she isn't. I have been feeding her the jelly that makes people obedient to the Summit for years now.
Now, I am here without her.
I am a dead boy walking. The irony of all ironies, if I am going to survive this, I am going to be trapped in the Playa forever. Well, not forever. Those trapped in the Playa have never survived since there is no way to live here after the games. And even if I managed to do it, I'd be eventually found and killed on the spot by one of the Summit's soldiers.
I turn around and run forward like everyone else, toward the finish line. It isn't logical. Only instinctual. How could you lose your iAm, Woo!
As I do, I see a young boy about twelve years old, about to get crushed by the ball. I don't know what it is that drives me, but I pull him away and save his life. Maybe it's his young age that led me to save him. He isn't sixteen like the rest of us. He looks
younger.
I even let him jump on my back and I run away with him. He is unusually skinny and light.
"What the hell are you doing here?" My sound is almost muffled against the other teenagers’ screams. Funny how most people scream when they don't want to die, instead of doing something about it.
"I am a Monster!" the boy's hands around my neck almost suffocate me.
"How is that possible?" I yell. Escaping with someone on your back is almost impossible. Why am I saving him? "The iAm only predicts Monsters when they are sixteen! You're ineligible for the games. It's the law!" I almost laugh when I say 'It's the law.'
"It wasn't the iAm!"
"Then who put you in here?"
"My parents," he says, squeezing harder on my neck. "Look out. A ball!" he says as he has the ability to crane his neck backward to tell me of the ball chasing after us. It's like having another pair of eyes in the back of my head. Not bad.
"What do you mean your parents?"
"You know when parents kill their own children because they were predicted to become Monsters," he explains, as I start feeling tired from his light weight. "Sometimes, instead of killing them, they make a deal with the Summit, to send them to the games. Secretly."
"But that's illegal!" I can't help but laugh again. What's not illegal about any of this?
"The national cameras that broadcast the games will not broadcast anything about me, though," he explains again. "But there is an underground market for richer people who like to see younger kids get killed for..."
"Stop telling me," I say and squeeze his hands. With all of the other atrocities the Summit does, I can't hear a word this kid says. It's not that I can't. I don't want to anymore. Where the hell am I living?
I want to survive and cut off each one of the government politician's heads. Those Bastards! We need a leader to rid us of them.
And then Decca comes to my mind.
Stop it, Woo. Don't think about Decca. You know you have that soft spot in your heart for her. And you can’t activate it now!!! Forget about her!