The Adorned

by Elimelec Gonzalez-Roman

  Chapter

  9

  Attachment

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  That following morning Jane…

  Woke me up with this annoying beep that was so aggravating that not even covering my head with my pillow could hold off the sound.

  “Ok, ok, I am up Jane, gosh! What’s with the rush?” I babbled childishly.

  “Your class begins in an hour Sam; you better not skip like yesterday: Mr. Cove already sent Ms. William a message concerning your irresponsibility to get to class. And you’ve also got an Email from Amy.”

  My heart skipped a beat at the sound of Amy’s name ringing in my head, “Really!” I said excited, “Patch it through the monitor Jane, hurry-hurry!”

  From: Amy: To: Sam

  Hey Sam, it’s Amy! Just wanted to invite you over to dinner tonight, my mom is making Penne and Fettuccine! It’s going to be awesome, and we can continue reading that book!

  K, bye Sam!

  Just the thought got me beyond excited; I rushed off the bed stretched my arms, and moved to the mirror. Checked my hair and noticed this irritable little blemish right on the tip of my nose. I poked it only to make it sting and turn even redder.

  I growled exasperatedly, “Jane,” I whined, “What is this!?” I said, with the tip of my index finger lightly tapping on my nose.

  I noticed Jane’s abnormally large monitor size screen flicker; perhaps even virtual AI get annoyed? I wouldn’t know, “Hey Jane you there?”

  Jane flickered on with a hum, “It is a complicated subject Sam, I will send a message to Mr. Cove so he can give you a brief explanation about it”

  “What?”

  Come on, an AI monitor won’t tell me what exactly this little red dot on my nose is? What exactly is so complicated about it?

  “Uh gee thanks Jane, I find you so useful sometimes.” I said with a smirk.

  “Sam you better take your medicine and leave at once, or I’ll tell Ms. Elizabeth William to not let you go see Amy.”

  What? Is Jane seriously threatening me? How could this machine possibly stop me from seeing Amy?

  I felt angry now, one of the few humanly emotions I hold dearly to my own, and makes me understand what being human really is.

  So obviously, really obvious indeed, this machine now recognizes certain connected routines and watches my every move to make this so-called: Portfolio about me, so that it can somehow guesstimate my next action… awesome.

  “Ok,” I said rebelliously, “I will leave.”

  Hey I could treat that piece of glass anyway I felt like, it’s not like it can hear my sarcasm. For good omen, I even stuck my tongue out at it.

  I walked outside and was met with overcast, and a very mucky ambiance; I felt my face get oily and sticky at once. It’s been like this for quite some time now; that beautiful sun that once blemished the sky hasn’t been seen for a little over ten months.

  I don’t exactly know what happened either, I’ve asked Amy, and from every other person I’ve talked to about it, she has been the only one who has actually noticed as I have. Nevertheless, I still didn’t find it that unusual, but once in a while, I wouldn’t mind catching that glimpse again.

  I continued down the sidewalk I unlocked the gate, passed through and then locked it again. I stared blankly across the park, the same barren inhumanity; the sickening silence that haunts incessantly since I first set foot on this terrain remained as idle as a burrowed tomb.

  I tucked my hands in my pocket and continued down the sidewalk towards the Jefferson Building. I had many questions in my mind today, a lot of questions; I’ve been constantly asking Ms. William, but she’s been so uptight and hushed, that I’ve been afraid to tell her anything lately.

  Mr. Cove and his classes were getting tiresome, boring, and just overall unbelievable; all the things he has been telling me, trying to brainwash me by explaining things that seem almost impossible.

  Before my 2nd year started, the final day I met with Mr. Cove and had this Semi-Break (this is the term used for the small period of time before year two begins) he explained the Origin of Humanity.

  Most of what he said was unbelievable, the Evolutionary Development; or that’s the term he used, stated that the human species took millions upon millions of years to get to the creature we are today. He went on and on about genetic mutation; gene development, and so forth, how the cells created the perfect working machine and it took a long time for it to process and learn.

  I personally didn’t really see much logic in it, but Amy, upon me mentioning the Evolutionary Development Theory; she was awfully fascinated by it.

  I entered the Jefferson Building and walked down the same vacant hallway until a door magically sprouted open again; the same routine I’ve been accustomed to for a while now. It wasn’t something I found surprising anymore; it was just a door to hell… Mr. Cove.

  “Good Afternoon Sam,” Mr. Cove said monotonously, his steady eyes pulling away from a book on the table and connecting to mine.

  I faked my smile. With a forced sympathy I acknowledged my failure to have gone to class yesterday and gave him my genuinely believable gesture of remorse.

  “Hello Mr. Cove,” I said curtly as I took my seat and tried to avoid his arid stare.

  “Glad you actually joined us today. Ms. William wasn’t entirely happy when I told her you chose to miss class yesterday.”

  His yammer was completely oblivious to me, I just stopped listening to him, but he continued on and on about the same thing; I was expecting him to take a breather anytime soon, but after he vented about my failure to accept responsibility as a soon to be adult (yeah those words I caught) he stood up and pointed at the large monitor board.

  “Now Sam, since you missed yesterday, today we will progress with the Human Genetic Encoding that’s written in our DNA strands,” he put his little round spectacles on, walked to his preacher-like podium next to his desk, and opened a thick book, “DNA is composed of Molecular and Cellular strands of bundle cells; each different part has a Gene, or a trait, passed down from generation to generation. For example,” the large monitor had a picture of an eye, “Eye color…”

  I dozed off a bit. My thoughts were dwelling on Amy; her beautiful face, her glamorous irresistible blue eyes: she was everything I was thinking about most of the time.

  Mr. Cove cleared his throat, the irritable sound killing my daydreaming, “Sam are you with me?” He asked, obviously I wasn’t.

  “Yeah, yeah… you were talking about Genes…” and then it struck me, GENES, recalling that hunch of information Mary told; gene alterations; but what does that have anything to do with this? I pondered.

  Taking my mind away from it, I decided to finally ask the most important question to me at this particular moment, “Mr. Cove, what is this little red thing on my nose?” I asked.

  His spectacles slid to a stop on the tip of his oily nose as his eyes averted off the textbook, “That’s just a premature zit,” he said, as though I were suppose to already know that, “It’s caused by residue that accumulates on the skin, basically dirt clogging your pores, so the skin irritates and you get a blemish,” he explained.

  I raised an eyebrow, “Ugh… ok,” I said still a bit confused. He did answer the question of course, but most of what he said went over my head; clogging pores, residue?

  I left Mr. Cove’s class rather hasty; I rushed down the hallway, walked outside, and then came to a stop as soon as I caught sight of Ms. William making her way towards me.

  I smiled warmly at her, “Hey Ms. William,” I said.

  She gave me a crooked smile; she cleared her throat, “Sam, sweetheart, Jane has told me you’ve been causing a bit of trouble, you’re more mature than that dear ok, just please be more responsible…”

  There was that word again: responsible, how many more times am I suppose to hear it, I think they’ve mentioned it enough for it to be engraved in my skull.

  “And don’t forget to take your medicine
before you head over to see Amy, okay?” Ms. William said, finally finishing her long, probably rehearsed, speech; to try to bring out that mother figure that she’s been so keen to forget lately.

  I nodded.

  “Good, I am glad you understand,” she smiled at me and passed her hand down my face, “I am going to go speak to Mr. Cove real quick and then I am going to head to the office again; I’m so sorry I’ve been spending so little time with you dear, it’s just been rather hectic lately and I’ve had to work long hours,” she explained solemnly, but her sweet voice was so compassionate that I couldn’t help but forgive her then and there.

  “Ok Ms. William,” I said to finally keep her at peace, “I’ll go take my medicine and head to Ms. Johnson’s house, is that ok?”

  “Of course sweetie.”

  She gave me and hug and then left. I shrugged exasperated. I took a deep breath and just helplessly stared up into the disgusting sky. The clouds became a darker shade of gray, almost looking velvet; lightning beamed across, veining and branching.

  I made my way back to the house, took my medicine and then immediately exited and made my way towards Amy’s house.

  As I approached Amy’s residential neighborhood I noticed Amy and Ms. Johnson already outside; Amy however was gliding like a ghost! It looked as though she were riding on a moving stool. It had two circular things spinning perpetually, a handle in which she held on to, and pedals. I hastened my pace to see this curious piece of never before seen, by my eyes, artifact.

  My heart sunk in anxiety upon her wondrous renascence, I waved at Amy, with her surprised, cheeks turning scarlet; she hit the railing of the sidewalk and fell off.

  Luckily it was on the grass, so she didn’t hurt herself. I rushed to her and so did Ms. Johnson

  “Oh my, sweetheart are you ok?” She said as she took Amy’s hand and pulled her up.

  She seemed ok, but perhaps what appeared to be killing her was her embarrassment. Her eyes glistened, almost overflowing with tears.

  “It’s ok!” Ms. Johnson persisted heartwarmingly with a smile.

  I walked up and grinned, “Hi Amy!” I said to try to avert her away from her little accident, “Hope you’re ok!” I tried to sound as cool as possible, but inside, I was bursting with laughter.

  She grinned at me, her beautiful and flawless blue eyes staring at mine; I felt attuned, as though I were drifting into another realm.

  “What is that thing?” I said.

  “This is a bicycle, Sam!” Amy responded enthused, “It’s a mobile machine thingy that you use to travel with; makes going places so much faster!” She explained.

  Ms. Johnson pulled out a handkerchief and wiped some blood off a small scrape she got on her elbow; she winced, her eyes narrowing and face looking as though she were in pain.

  I examined this “bicycle” thing; it was a glamorous shade of pearly candy-coated red, its handles had a black rubbery looking grip, and the seat was cushioned with a fancy leather seat.

  With courteousness I freely picked up the bicycle; it was clearly made of what Mr. Cove explained as metal. It was very cold, almost ice cold, and smooth; I beamed.

  Amy noticed my delightfulness, “What is it Sam,” she said giggling, “You’ve never seen a bicycle before?”

  I perched my lips and gave her a serious look, I cleared my throat trying to add authority to my next batch of chatter, “I am not a third year, yet!”

  That was my come back.

  She seemed amused by it; she gave me a tight hug, her chin resting on my shoulder. My heart jumped a couple of beats. Her warm supple breath was cool and smelled pristine, like mint; her warmth captivated me.

  Ms. Johnson patted my back, “You hungry Sam?” She asked.

  Due to Amy’s enthralling aurora I completely forgot about my hunger, I clearly nodded my head at Ms. Johnson whom stared at us with a smile on her face. Amy’s squeeze was tighter than normal; I don’t know but I felt her breath whispering something into my ear.

  “I’m scared, Sam…” her supple words cut into me like a razor blade, my eyes opened wide with disbelief and sentimental drought. My heart thumped faster, my face turned scarlet; I didn’t know what to say to this.

  I softly push her away, her clear blue eyes glittering; I gave her a questioning stare; her eyes darted at Ms. Johnson, I assume she was implying not around her.

  “Come you two, let’s get inside before we get sick from this mucky weather,” Ms. Johnson said, looking as though she were completely oblivious to our exchange of stares.

  Ms. Johnson’s house always smelled so wonderful, it was this natural scent that I couldn’t resist; Amy had its fragrance too, which drove me to her even more. I can’t really describe this smell, but it attracted me like bear to honey.

  I went to the kitchen and sat on my usual seat. Amy sat right beside me, her face still a bit morose; her eyes color seemed to be deepening in color, and her pupils larger than normal. She was slightly hunched, elbows resting on the table, her lavish blonde hair dangling down by her side.

  I turned to her while Ms. Johnson started preparing supper, “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  She turned to me, her pink lips slightly chapped, “I’ll tell you later, Sam.” She said a bit seriously, her soft tone was replaced by this awkward attitude that carved a hole in my heart.

  I sat back on my seat and crossed my arms; my face serious. Occasionally I took a peak or two at Amy, her eyes connecting to mine, but then moving away quickly.

  “Stop staring at me.” She hissed.

  My eyebrows rose in question, again, another slam in the face that just drowned me into this cycle of remorse.

  That supper went slowly; there was this disturbing silence between each of us. Finally Ms. Johnson broke the silence.

  “So Sam,” she said as she slurped up some angel hair pasta, “How’s second year treating you?”

  I scowled, “Uh… well,” I said, I stared briefly at Amy, whose attention seemed to be more glued to the pasta than my next batch of words, “It’s a bit annoying so far, Mr. Cove I guess hates me because I skipped class yesterday…”

  “You skipped a lesson?” Amy added bewildered.

  “Yeah,” I said, my depression slightly slipping away at the tone of Amy’s voice, “Ms. William and Mr. Cove keep on talking about responsibility this and that…”

  “Well that is important Sam; it’s a very useful feat to have,” Ms. Johnson said, “Amy here hasn’t missed one day of class since her start of classes!”

  Ms. Johnson loved to boast about Amy, if she wasn’t talking about food, she’d be giving me a story about when Amy was in her first year: blah, blah, blah, it wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was just her tone annoyed me.

  “Mom, please don’t go on about me again,” Amy muttered, her face a bit more lush.

  Ms. Johnson giggled, “Well sweetheart, you’re all I have!”

  I grinned.

  “Yeah I know mom, but still…”

  “Still nothing young lady, you’re my special little angel…”

  “Quit it!” Amy bellowed irritated.

  My grin brushed away and I felt a bit embarrassed and awkward; I gulped air and straightened my back against the seat. I gave Amy a quick glance. She stared back, her lips pursed.

  “Now, now,” Ms. Johnson said coolly, “Don’t raise your voice like that; it’s not polite and it’s disrespectful especially with Sam here, what do you want him to think?”

  Amy sighed; she licked her lips, set the fork down on the plate, and left the kitchen, thumping towards her room.

  “I’m sorry Sam, she’s been having this girly attitude lately, don’t worry though… it’s a normal thing all girls go through…” Ms. Johnson tried to explain.

  “That’s ok…”

  "Sam, come in here,” I heard Amy yell from her room.

  “Best to not keep her waiting,” Ms. Johnson said.

  I grinned, “I hope she doesn’t strangle me!” I added.
>
  I walked inside Amy’s overly pink room; pink everywhere, the walls, the cover on her bed. It seemed that even the monitor on the wall had little pink glittery dots that were stickered on its frame.

  She was sitting on her chair next to the desk, writing something with her pink pen that had this furry pink puff on the end.

  “Shut the door.” She commanded.

  I shut the door and went to her bed and sat down, I stared at her; her back turned to me. She cleared her throat, and since her chair had this unique swivel on it, she twisted around until she faced me.

  “I’m sorry Sam,” she said, “I’m just not feeling well today… and mom has been hassling me over taking some stupid exam to be able to change my future plans set for me.".

  She stood up and sat next to me; she placed her head on my shoulder and remained silent. I felt awkward, but I enjoyed feeling her warmth, her supple breath breathing against my chin; her blue eyes staring at mine. She gave me a grin, and then moved closer to my mouth and pressed her warm, slightly dried lips, against my own.

  I grimaced, this uneasiness and guilt-like feeling came over me; before I could shy away from her movement she pushed me down onto the bed and we continued kissing.

  She stopped, “Sam,” her soft voice said, she was resting on my chest; my heart was beating hard, “Do you know what love is?” She asked me quietly.

  Love? I didn’t know what this word meant, I’ve never come across it before, nor has anyone ever mentioned it to me. I pondered in my thoughts, digging through lessons, and trying to attain a slight logic onto its mystery.

  “No,” I said after finally giving up, “What is it?”

  I felt her giggle, her hand pressed lightly against my chest, “I hear mom telling me that all the time, but I’ve never asked her what it meant before… but I think it’s a feeling.” Amy explained.

  I heard a hunch of uncertainty.

  “Mr. Cove explained feelings to me,” I added, “But I never heard of that word… I mean, he explained angry, sad… happy, and all sorts of other ones, but love?” I said.

  Amy hopped off the bed; she gave me a quick kiss, and then left the room. I went to her desk and saw the paper she was writing on; the handwriting was neat, almost perfect. I took the piece of paper and started reading:

  I’ve been so confused lately, Journal, I don’t know what to do or think. Mom wants me to take this exam and wants me to go far away, and I don’t want to, I don’t want to leave home so soon, I don’t want to leave Sam behind… Journal, I have been so frustrated lately, my emotions so bland, I can’t stand the thought of not having Sam with me if I leave, but something inside me tells me that we are not meant to be, we’re not set to be the Prince and the Princess as all my wonderful fairy tales do; there won’t be a happy ending. I am choking in the fact that mom just wants me to (smothered writing) and I can’t control myself any longer, I don’t know what love is, but… but I think I feel it for Sam, I think I ‘Love’ him, like mom always tells me she loves me, but I don’t know Journal, I don’t know, I feel too pressured, I am afraid, afraid of what my future holds for me… Journal this is my last year before being sent off, what I should do, what should I…

  Amy walked in, startled I set the paper down and gave her a quick glance; her face frown, a bit shocked, and her eyes alertly staring at me. Before I knew it Amy was in my arms weeping. My hands were by my side, but before long I embraced her with a tight hug.

  “I think I love you Sam,” she said sobbing, “I-I love you,” her voice cracked.

  I had trouble thinking, my heartbeat was pounding against my chest, and my throat was dry; without long I said the same thing, not knowing what it meant though, I said, “I love you too.”

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