The Adorned

by Elimelec Gonzalez-Roman

  Chapter

  35

  Scrutiny

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  I managed to cope with my emotional breakdown…

  I shoved the straining thoughts inside my mind somewhere where I couldn’t ever find them again.

  Rebecca’s quicker stride left a foot of space between us… she hadn’t even said a single word since our departure from her townhouse. Wonder what’s going on inside her mind. What if she felt as I did?

  Or perhaps the way I acted in there left her speechless... I'm never that rash, I was angry enough to punch her door... how can I forgive myself for that?

  “Have you had any strange dreams lately, Becca?” I asked.

  Her stride remained constant as the ticking seconds turned to a minute.

  “Yes,” she finally replied before my distraught impatience blurted out with a curse at her, “I understand now what you meant about that so-called dream of yours concerning a sole lunatic who’s face is veiled by a plain silver mask.” She explained dully.

  My heartbeat raced as I sprung at her, grabbed her arm and twirled her around to face me, “Was there an empty archway?”

  She jerked her hand off and pushed me away. Her eyes squinted, “Yes.”

  This was unbelievable.

  “Did you pass the archway?”

  Rebecca winced. She then turned around and continued forward towards the nearly visible market area, “Come Sam, I’m really hungry… mind if we just talk about this at a later time?”

  I groaned and hurried along behind her again… did this new overly protective attitude just now begin?

  I didn’t feel the need to press on the matter. She answered enough questions to prove my speculation an actuality. So she’s witnessed the same dream as I have and has experienced the exact same scene… but what if she actually followed the President through the archway? What mysteries could she have uncovered in her entry?

  This led me to believe that the archway was in fact just some portal to a different area: perhaps Teaching Grounds or a place to study theoretical philosophies, maybe just a trap to shut off the mind completely, or a way to acquire entry in that hidden realm between the body and soul?

  The possibilities are endless and there’s only one way to uncover this mystery… and that’s by venturing through that archway.

  I never spoke to Dr. Harris enough to discover if there could be some way, some catastrophic and mind-blowing way, to manipulate a sleeping host and removing certain memories or even actions from the brain itself temporarily or indefinitely, in order to achieve a rather ambitious and despicable goal. Nevertheless, just being able to communicate with the President via a dream is a bit boggling already.

  The market district seemed a bit barren today. Wasn’t as packed as it was when I was previously here.

  “A bit empty isn’t it?” Rebecca muttered.

  I guess she read my mind.

  “It is.” I replied.

  She turned and faced me, a bright smile crossed her face, “Let’s go eat at Garden Alexia again… and this time we might actually sit down and have a real meal!”

  Guess she didn’t forget that little moment back when I abandoned her to go seek Ms. William… at least she didn’t have any hard feelings over it and managed to make it a joke.

  “Oh, of course,” I laughed lightly, “Uh I promise I won’t run away this time!”

  She smiled.

  I felt at peace when she had that captivating carefree attitude, helped me understand her unique personality quite a bit more. But then again the opposite sex is a tad strange when it came to do with quadruple personalities to each individual day of the week.

  I stepped in front of her and opened the large, oak door, with a big, brass, oval shaped handle, and let Rebecca by. A delightfully sweet and bitter fragrance left me a bit woozy as the sudden smell disappeared and blasted me with a saucy smell that made my stomach roar.

  “Seems like they remodeled Sam.” Rebecca said.

  To be honest I hardly remembered the inside of this place… however, I didn’t recall it being this plain: completely white tables coped with a black tablecloth and white, marble-like, glazy chairs. The floor remained identical, sheets of polished wood, and the ceiling was now one big chunk of mirror.

  I truly was awed by this small feat… I stared up and I saw myself staring right back.

  I saw Rebecca’s reflection coming towards me and nudging me in the arm. Another female girl accompanied her, more than likely the host. I turned, smirked, and just followed.

  The lovely host set us outside in the balcony, just like last time, and coincidentally, she was the exact same girl too. She reacted to my presence in the exact same spooked manner she did before. I nodded, her face grimaced. Astonishing!

  She slid us the menus. “I’ll be back with water.”

  “Wow!” Rebecca said. “Déjà vu huh?”

  I scoffed, “Yeah”

  Rebecca straightened her posture and arched an eyebrow, “So about that dream you spoke of… the one pertaining that masked President.”

  “Wait,” I quickly interfered. “Think we’re being heard?” I whispered.

  “Of course we are, we’re always being monitored… but it doesn’t really matter much since we’re soon going to graduate.”

  She did have a point. But that graduation wasn’t until we first finish these two new classes.

  “Yeah, I’ve already had two dreams with that same man.” I said.

  She straightened her back against the chair and crossed her arms, “Well I’ve only had one so far, and it was on a beach with the ruins of that archway. I was alone all until that man approached me, from out of nowhere Sam!”

  “Yeah he did the same to me but he first showed himself to me near the ledge of a ravine that’s horizon was embroidered by a beautiful oceanic vista.”

  “He said something about,” she hesitated and shut her eyes, “He said something about the archway before us… that it led to important questions sought by philosophers, queries that were presumed to be unanswerable.”

  Could these questions be something to do with Dr. Harris’s strange remark about the questions he sought to answer… that the answers could be buried inside my mind, a place only reached from populous state of rest?

  But then again, Dr. Harris only showed himself to me, and explained solely, or at least to my present awareness, to me inside my dream… unless Rebecca here has had a share few of dreams with Dr. Harris and she just hasn’t said anything to me about it.

  The waitress came by before I said anything. She didn’t give me a single glance as she cautiously slid me the glass of water.

  “Ready to order?”

  “We’re not ready yet.” Rebecca said.

  “Just hit this button when you’re ready.” The waitress said as she set a silver bell on the center of the table.

  “I don’t know what to think of this Becca...”

  “I don’t either Sam, it’s just so absolutely absurd that we’re experiencing almost identical dreams with the same man… but we can’t see any logic in this since Thomas won’t shed any light on anything.”

  I winced, “And the only he has been removed from the equation.”

  Rebecca held the glass of water against her lips as her stare remained locked.

  I briefly glanced at the small, laminated menu entitled: Alexia Gardens that had quite a variety of dishes engraved in fine print. There were plenty of tasty sounding things, but no pictures to illustrate the name’s pronounced splendor. So I picked out a chicken and Caesar salad.

  “I’m ready to order Becca, you?”

  “Yup,” she went and pressed the silver bell.

  It chimed.

  I scratched my head and grinned at this coming thought that might spark a snap from Rebecca, “Hey Becca… have you uh, ever had a dream with Dr. Harris?”

  Her expression paved way to my assumption; her eyes squinted and lips pursed as she squinted over and leaned on her elbows.
That was a definite yes… and if she has in fact had a dream with Dr. Harris then the trail of coincidence is beyond comprehension.

  Out of the blue the waitress came up to us, “So what will it be?”

  I lost my train of thought in the entire process.

  “I’ll take vegetable calzone please.” Rebecca said.

  “Alright, and you?”

  Her bitter tone made me want to grab my glass of water and splash it all over her face…

  “Chicken, Caesar salad for me.” I replied with that same bitter and monotonous tone, obviously Rebecca saw my sarcasm as her light laughter made me blush.

  The waitress then left. Finally, good riddance.

  I cleared my throat, “So have you?”

  Rebecca sat back and cleared her throat more abruptly that I did, “Sam, now is not a good time to have a conversation,” she leaned over the table, “About him, in broad daylight, in a public location.” She whispered, “The events that occurred didn’t happen remember.” She winked at me as she sat back down.

  That was reasonable, but she did say she’d talk more as soon as we got here. Nevertheless, this exact place could in fact be under heavy surveillance, and on top of that, we’re being highly monitored. Because it seems that Rebecca and I just happen to be the only two people our age that ensues to be led by our curiosity… and there’s a reason for that too, and that answer is all around us.

  The perfection surrounding this place is beyond explicable: but what if the answers to my questions are just waiting for me beyond this place? Should I hold my own until then?

  Something else came to mind: Rebecca’s winks, that random impervious and unapparent expression… could the Council’s eye catch those kinds of body language?

  “Sam, don’t be too obvious, but take a quick glance to the right, behind that building there,” she stopped and stared at me baffled, “They’re spying on us!”

  I sighed. And no, I didn’t take a peek at that random person spying on us, I quite frankly didn’t care. I thought of a different thing, another form of resistance… and on top of that, it wasn’t a form of resistance at all; it was actually just giving in.

  Going with it... why not? Just, giving in to everything.

  “Becca, we’ve only got a year here, and today is our fifteenth birthday… if we give in for this last year, do what we’re supposed to be doing, and not take any more detours along the way, we shouldn’t have any more problems.” I said.

  And that was my idea in order to remove this tension the Council Officers and Officials have against us and our extremely notorious acts of venturing off into uncharted and prohibited locals across this facility. I think it’s time to just accept that their control is impossible to evade.

  She didn’t say a word.

  “Look we can’t change anything, we’re two people”

  “Sam!” She snapped, “Who said anything about changing anything? Your speculations are almost as absurd as your obsession with those dark times.”

  “And you’re obsession with exploring, creating shortcuts, getting off track, I think it’s time to just let it go, at least for now, or at least until...”

  “What!” Rebecca ran her fist on the table, “Excuse me? You’re as obsessed as I am so that makes us even. Heck, you were the one that found that beach; you were the one that took me there in the first place.”

  She grimaced, stood and made her way to the balcony rail. She leaned against and stared down below aimlessly, “I’m sorry… I-I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

  I winced at her remorseful apology: it was in fact my fault to have accused her in the first place. She had the right to go off on me. And that single incident caused a dear friend of mine to expire.

  “Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry.”

  I heard her sigh, “What does that mean anyway? Honestly Sam, why is it that we think, this place believes sorry can fix anything? Do you ever wonder that? It’s like hope, hope can’t change anything, it’s a predestined failure… best to just remain shut and not say a word, it sickens me so much hearing mom always say sorry when she cooks something wrong, says something wrong. It’s aggravating. And I guess it passed on to me too.”

  Now I was speechless, last time I heard the word hope was when Ms. William moped about its context and false meanings… apparently Rebecca felt the same way about it too.

  “Hope angers me Sam, because what’s there to hope for here? We’re lodged in this facility that gives us what we need, what we want, educates us… everything is too perfect to hope for anything at all.” She banged her hand on the rail. “But there really isn’t anything to complain about isn’t there, huh?”

  I’ve always wondered where Rebecca got all her knowledge from… she seems so wise, too wise… but what if her entirely different perspective of the world shapes her very motives.

  But I guess I do too, not in her radical way of course, but different as in I know there’s something more to life than being stranded in this place, but then again, what can I do about it?

  The answer, at least for now: Nothing. So it’s best not to seek a lost cause that might end up relinquishing any goal whatsoever in the long run… but it seems to me that won’t stall Rebecca from her own wits. As much as she seemed to have ridiculed Dr. Harris, the more and more she seems to embody him.

  Rebecca sat back down, “Well I feel a lot better Sam!” She said.

  Astonishing. Of course after all that jabber she’d feel better, I think she unloaded all her troubles on me.

  “Glad to hear, Becca.” I said.

  The annoying waitress showed up with a large, black platter with our order. She set down a stool, placed the platter on top of it, and then handed us our plates of steaming, and deliciously smelling... something…

  “I hope you two enjoy, I’ll return with more water.”

  Her monotonousness seemed to capitalize itself increasingly in that last little speech of hers.

  When I finally caught a glimpse of this spectacularly smelling meal, I gasped at the sight of it. The smell, it smelled fine, at least I think it did, I honestly couldn’t place a picture at the scent this plate was giving off. Inside the plate was some pudding type food that resembled applesauce.

  I glared at Rebecca’s plate and it was exactly the same, but hers had a little bit darker color than my colorless looking food.

  I took the spoon that was already lodged inside this applesauce looking stuff and toyed around, watching the surface slowly harden and form some kind of disgusting looking shell.

  “Do you enjoy playing with your food?” Rebecca said.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s food!” Rebecca snapped with a mouthful.

  I didn’t see any form of delight in any of this I couldn’t eat it.

  “Sam.”

  It was Oliver.

  “It’s Thomas!” Rebecca said.

  I briefly turned at Oliver and gave him a smile, he leaned on the doorway with arms crossed just staring at us with a glee in his old, wrinkly face. I also noticed his frightful attire had vanished. He was formally dressed in a black suit, a white tie, and those same really shiny shoes.

  “How delightful it is to have both of you here! Happy Birthday you two!” Oliver said.

  “Thanks!” Rebecca and I both said at the same time, our voices evenly pitched. We both ended up chuckling with one another.

  “Both of you will be even more delighted this evening.”

  I peered over at Rebecca who seemed to continue to stuff her face with this disgusting-looking mush that was supposed to represent a meal.

  “So uh, I thought I wasn’t going to see you until the birthday celebration started.”

  “Well technically you’re not deduced to even notice me remember!” He gave me a wink.

  Of course that mask he wore, they’re hidden amidst the shadow.

  “And why are we not going to notice you?” Rebecca said.

  “That’s for you to find out later
this evening.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, “Psh, another secret for me to decode huh?”

  “Absolutely!” Oliver answered.

  “Good way of attempting to get me into more trouble Thomas.”

  Oliver snapped his finger as the brightness in his face became an ominous glare at Rebecca, “It’s Oliver dear, how many times do I have to repeat myself.” He tried to add sarcasm but he failed miserably as he spoke through his teeth.

  Oliver turned to me, “Sam I’m well aware you’ve never eaten this gunk before so let me tell you what it is. It’s a complete multi-vitamin meal that gives you all your nutrition… everything is composed of it. The food you eat at your house that Ms. William cooks, with exception of fruit of course, is made up of this material. The Council just has a way of manipulating its shape. And the way they manipulate it is… uh,” he paused, “Really, really interesting.” He broke a smile. “But I can’t say how it works.”

  “I didn’t know that!” Rebecca snapped.

  “Sweetheart there are plenty of things that you don’t know.”

  “Well why don’t you start with this stuff I just ate.”

  “Ok, well it’s all part of an elusive and manipulative way… quite ingenious of course, and you can probably pin point the exact person who introduced this kind of meal manifestation. Anyways, it’s called Ration Sublimation. The meal is composed of easily digestible compounds which tricks the brain that it’s full, and delivers the necessary nutrition needed and then disposes the unnecessary quickly. Something that’ll be a big subject during your LCP is calorie intake… which is actually irrelevant in this place because nothing has any fat calorie,” he turned to me, “Thus the reason why everyone maintains his or her perfectly sculptured body.”

  What a slap in the face. So all the food I’ve been eating has been made up of this goo. Now I’m going to see food in an entirely different manner.

  “It’s also a way for the Council to again manipulate your human bodies. The human tongue senses the taste and transfers it to the brain, kind of like a personal dictionary to acquired tastes… so if the Council controls your taste buds what makes you think you’re not actually eating salad?”

  A bit more than I can chew but better to learn about this now that later.

  “And this ingenious individual to come up with Ration Sublimation, was he the one who’s body had yet to be found in that.”

  “Becca shhh.”

  “His body is still adrift Rebecca, my fellow Myrmidons and what’s left of the Guardians have yet to scavenge the body.” Oliver replied.

  It was like it sickened him to say them, as though he had to force them out of his mouth… I don’t think he expected that ultimatum, or at least the way it ended up. But neither did I.

  After that it became hard to say anything. There was this series of uncomforting silence besieging us. I couldn’t even make eye contact with Rebecca, I felt aggravated at her overly too forward smatter and just noosing attitude.

  Oliver stood, “Well I’ll see you both at your birthday celebration.”

  Rebecca smirked, “Wish I could say the same.”

  “Also a Council Official will escort both of you to the recreational facility. Just mope about the market district for a bit, he’ll be here in about a half-hour.”

  He left. And I left my food on that table too; I refused to eat that disgusting pile of glop.

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