I sit on one of the other couches and focus on the television. A news reporter is interviewing an expert about another city recently discovered in Australia, that has begun to naturally thaw out. He predicts that with Sphere technology they’ll be able to make it liveable within two years.
A squeal comes from Jackson in the kitchen, as Cathy catches him trying to sneak a cookie before dinner. Beth sighs from her spot on the couch. She’s not watching the television; instead she’s playing with something on her lap.
‘Are you ever going to tell me what happened?’ I ask.
Her back goes rigid and her face turns hard. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
She continues to look at whatever it is she’s playing with in her lap. She tucks it away in her pocket but, as she does, I catch a glint of light along the metal circumference of a locket. Her locket. I can’t believe she still has it after all these years. Her mum gave it to her when we were kids and if she still has that, it means she still cares about her family.
‘You still have your locket…’
‘I don’t have anything.’
‘Yes you do. I saw it,’ I say.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she says again.
I look back towards the kitchen and nervously grasp the pendant that always hangs around my neck. ‘You still care. You’re still the girl who was once my best friend.’
‘That person is long gone,’ she replies. ‘You’d better stop looking for her in me. It’s a waste of your time and you’ll be sadly disappointed.’ She looks up at me, no emotion showing on her face. April no longer shines out of her hollow eyes, but I know she’s in there somewhere.
‘Please won’t you reconsider helping me find Sebastian?’
‘No,’ she says.
‘Don’t you want to find him?’ I ask. Her eyes betray an emotion, but I can’t tell whether it’s anger, hope, love… I have as much insight into her as a stranger would.
‘Who’s Sebastian?’ Jackson asks, from behind me. Beth stands and glares down at me before walking over and guiding him back to the kitchen.
‘He’s no one,’ she says. ‘Just some guy Elle likes to think I’d want to meet. But she’s wrong.’ She directs her words at me, and I try not to take it to heart. How can she not want to find him?
I turn myself back around on the sofa to look at the television. I hate feeling so helpless when it comes to her. I keep trying to reach out to her, but all she does is push me away.
There’s a fit of laughter in the kitchen and I turn to see Beth lift Jackson onto her back and gallop around the room with him. She almost appears happy until she sees me watching. The light slips from her eyes, leaving them empty. I quickly snap my head back around.
Later that night I lie in bed looking up to the ceiling. My body feels tired, but my mind and heart are racing. I keep thinking about the bridge that leads to the other side of the river. It’s almost calling to me.
I groan, thump my pillow and roll onto my side. When I close my eyes I see it clearer than before. It’s night and it’s lit up in an orange, yellow glow. The lamps that line it reflect down into the calm water, the slightest of ripples gently denting the reflection.
I punch my pillow down again. It’s the middle of the night. I can’t exactly go across the bridge now in search of Sebastian. It’d be completely stupid. I huff out an irritated breath and roll onto my other side.
If only sleep would come to me. I wouldn’t keep seeing this damn bridge. I open my eyes and stare out the window. The city lights twinkle in the night sky. The way they’re lit up, you’d think the whole place was wide-awake.
I rub my eyes, which feel beyond tired, yet determined to stay awake. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I get up and go to the kitchen for some water.
As I stand by the kitchen window, clutching the cold glass to my chest, I feel dwarfed by the sheer size of the city that lies below. There are so many people, how are you supposed to find just one?
I worry the answer is you can’t, but quickly push that disturbing thought aside. I will find him. I know it.
I tiptoe back to my room, keeping especially quiet as I move down the hallway past the other bedrooms. The door to Beth’s room is slightly ajar. I’m tempted to take a quick peek through the crack to see if she appears so hostile when she sleeps, but can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I take extra care not to make any noise. Waking her up would so not be worth it.
A thud comes from the living room and I stop dead in my tracks, my heart in my mouth. Silence echoes throughout the house. I begin to relax slightly as the seconds tick past and I don’t hear another noise. Maybe something fell over out there?
There’s a soft creaking of the floorboards nearby and my body seizes up, taught with tension again. I listen carefully, and can just make out the sound of soft and careful footsteps, slowly making their way across the living room.
My mind flutters, trying to figure out how someone has broken into the house. It was deadly quiet when I’d first got up, and the living room had been empty when I’d walked through it a minute ago. Surely I would’ve seen or heard someone?
The footsteps creep closer. They’re almost at the entrance to the hallway now.
Holding my breath, I edge my way towards my bedroom door, terrified to make a noise.
A footstep creaks in the hallway behind me. I freeze again. I’m too scared to look behind me and too scared to move forward. The footsteps stop and are replaced by the slow and steady breaths of the intruder, which are loud in the silent house. They’re so close that even in the darkness of the hallway they must be able to see me.
‘What are you doing?’ Beth’s hushed voice spits at me from behind. I jump in reaction and turn as she skulks towards me.
‘Me? What are you doing?’ I respond, trying to calm my erratically beating heart. Is she trying to scare me to death? ‘I was just out in the living room, how’d you get there without me seeing you?’
‘It’s not my fault you didn’t see me,’ she says. ‘What are you doing up?’
‘I was getting a glass of water.’ I hold my glass up to show her. ‘What were you doing?’
‘What is this, an interrogation?’ she seethes back.
‘Whatever,’ I say. ‘I’m not in the mood for your games right now. I’m going back to bed.’ I turn and make my way back to my room without another word, but not without noticing Beth is no longer in her pyjamas. I also notice she’s wearing her sneakers and they’re coated in mud. Where has she been?
I push the thought from my mind. There’s no way she’ll tell me and I’m too tired to try and talk to her about it now.
As I walk into my room exhaustion seeps into my bones. Despite the scare Beth gave me in the hallway, my body feels heavier and only moments after I crawl my way into bed I fall straight to sleep.
When I wake in the morning, my room is still dark. It must be early. I roll over to look at my clock, but the dark red numbers flash ‘9:00 A.M’. Surprisingly, I’ve slept in. I sit up in bed and, rubbing my eyes, look out the window. It’s incredibly dark outside, but obviously not night.
I heave myself out of bed and drag my feet over to the window to peer up at the sky. The clouds are miserable, grey looking things today. They’re almost as dark as the ones I’d seen over the ARC, though strangely devoid of the Lysart purple I’m used to seeing. I can practically feel my mood darken under the oppressive gloom of the day. The blue skies and sunshine are nowhere to be seen.
My nose twitches as it registers the rich smell of frying butter wafting into my room. Visions of Paul’s fluffy, warm pancakes appear in my head. In the powerful grip of their smell I am helplessly pulled towards the kitchen, where I find Paul standing over the cook top making breakfast.
I try not to drool as he flips one of the pancakes high in the air. It’s hard to contain my excitement over my new favourite meal. Jackson sits eagerly at the kitchen bench waiting for his to be ready.
‘No, sometimes even I get a Sunday off,’ he says, looking relieved. He’s always so busy with his job for the government; he must really appreciate his time off. ‘Are you doing much today?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘Not really. I was thinking of going for a walk.’
He looks meaningfully out the window. ‘Don’t think you’ll have the best weather for walking in today.’
I shrug my shoulders. Bad weather really won’t deter me today. I made up my mind last night. I’m going to try and go across the bridge, whether I’m allowed to or not. I can’t keep waiting for Sebastian to fall into my lap. At worst they’ll turn me away, but maybe, just maybe, they won’t and I will find him.
Once I’m outside I have to zip my jacket right up. The wind is whipping forcefully around the streets and it cuts coldly into my skin. There is barely anyone out in the street today and it’s unnerving how empty the sidewalk is.
I walk in the direction of the park. From what I saw the other day, the bridge connects to the pathway that winds along the riverbank, so it should be straightforward to make it there.
The park is deserted and I’m hardly surprised after seeing how empty the streets are. It’s colder than I’ve felt on the surface before and, with the wind’s icy breath slicing through me, it’s not good weather for a visit to the park. It really makes you appreciate the regulated temperature in the ARC. No need for warm, windproof jackets down there.
I easily find my way to the riverbank, thankfully not getting lost this time. Today the river is no longer the majestic, slowly rippling water I’d seen before. The water churns violently, spraying up and over the metal guardrails that line the sidewalk, like it’s desperately trying to escape the confines of the riverbank. I stay as far from the edge as possible. My jacket may keep me warm, but it doesn’t look like it would fair too well when wet.
The bridge stands down river, closer than I remember. It shouldn’t take too long to get there. I can do this. Easy. I dig my hands into my jacket pockets for warmth as I set off. With each step I take, my pace quickens and nervous energy tingles at my fingertips. I know I’m onto something, I feel sure of it.
After a while of gazing at the bridge ahead my feet stumble beneath me and I slow to a stand still. The bridge doesn’t look any closer. I look over my shoulder at the route I’ve just walked, before facing the bridge again. It’s been nearly ten minutes, and I’ve come a fair distance. I should be there by now.
‘That can’t be right.’ I shake my head, rejecting the thought. It must just be further than I’d initially assumed.
I wrap my arms across my body, as a strong gust of wind hits me, and I continue walking. It shouldn’t take me long now.
The wind gradually gets stronger, howling as it rushes across the river. Pulling my hood up for protection, I lean my body into the wall of air and struggle against it. After another ten minutes, I look up to gauge the distance to the bridge. I’m no closer to it. This time I’m certain.
‘Agh!’ I throw my hands up in the air, walk up to the nearest tree and slam my fist against it. ‘What the hell is going on?’ I turn and lean against the tree, staring across the water to the bridge that’s no closer, and no further, than before.
Lara had never said it was impossible to go there, she’d just said it wasn’t allowed. From what I can see though, you can’t get across the bridge even if you want to. I look back up the other direction of the river. This bridge is definitely the only crossing. What do you have to do to cross it?
I bring up the location map on my cuff. As it appears across the glass surface, I do a double take. According to my map I’ve already walked past the bridge. I look out over the water, back towards the empty space where the bridge is meant to be.
Great! Now my cuff is malfunctioning. I lock the screen angrily. As I do, a water droplet lands on my hand. I look over at the barrier by the river and the water that still thrashes against it. I must be too close. Another water droplet lands on my nose this time. I turn away from the river and start slowly trudging back the way I came.
I will have to convince Lara we should go to the north. There’s no way I can go there without her help. Several more water droplets patter on my face. I irritably wipe them away and move closer to the park edge of the pathway.
The droplets begin to become more frequent and much stronger. I realise it’s not the river, but the water droplets are plummeting down from directly above me. It’s rain. I stand still and look up into the clouds, a sudden excitement gripping me.
I’m in the rain!
I hold my hand out and watch as the water taps lightly on it, before slowly winding its way off of my hand and dripping away. It’s mesmerising as it hits the ground and ricochets, each droplet dancing along the pathway. The rain becomes heavier and faster. The light pattering noise as it beats against the ground grows louder and louder.
My initial excitement quickly dissipates as my clothes and hair become sodden and drenched. Even my sneakers become heavy as the water soaks through them. I’d always thought being stuck out in the rain would be romantic or joyous—I guess that’s to be expected when you’ve watched ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ one too many times and never actually been stuck in it.
Now all I can think is that Gene Kelly was obviously a very good actor. After all his singing and dancing in the rain, he probably caught a cold, which is the last thing I want if I’m to avoid ending up in that hospital in the west.
This isn’t what I expected at all. My body begins to shiver as the wind bites into my cold wet skin. I pull my arms against my chest and, tucking my head down, I begin my long, miserable journey back to the apartment, my feet squelching against the pavement with every sloshing step.
I may have to convince Lara we need to go over the bridge, but there’s no way I’m telling her about this attempt.
CHAPTER TEN
‘What are you doing tonight?’ Lara asks me, before taking a large bite of her sandwich.
The question makes me sad in a way. I already know she’s not about to suggest a trip to North Hope, I’m still a long way off convincing her that’s a good idea. She won’t do anything until we talk to the elusive M.
‘Not a lot,’ I answer. I had considered going down to look at the bridge again after school, but that’s starting to get weird. I’ve gone and stared aimlessly at it from the riverbank several times this week. I’m still no closer to finding a way over, and swimming across the river is definitely out, considering I’ve never stood in anything deeper than an inch of water—I should really stop contemplating that as an option.
She looks at the twins, who are deep in conversation across the other side of the table, before saying, ‘Don’t make any plans. I think you need to let your hair down, relax a little bit. You’ve been so concerned about Sebastian. We should go and show you what being on the surface is all about.’
‘We should?’ I ask, trying to keep my disinterest from my voice. This hardly seems the time to be letting my hair down.
Lara doesn’t notice my lack of enthusiasm and her head bobs up and down excitedly in response. I have no idea what she wants to do tonight. What do people even do up here for fun? Maybe she’s trying to rope me in to a cinema night like the ones we had back in the ARC? It’s been ages since I’ve seen a movie.
I take a long drink from my glass of water and then place it back on the table. ‘What will we be doing?’ I ask.
‘Let’s just say it’s going to be a surprise. A good one! Just trust me, you will have a blast.’
‘I dunno if Cathy will be happy with me going out at night,’ I worry.
‘Leave Cathy to me,’ she says.
‘I’m still not sure…’
‘If I tell you it’ll help us find Sebastian, would that change your mind?’
I glare at her. She’s seriously taking advantage of my weaknesses right now.
‘Thought so,’ she
says, with a smile.
‘Will it really help us find him?’
‘You’ll see.’
The bell rings and Lara jumps up from the table. She looks more excited about tonight than I’ve ever seen her before. It must be contagious because I begin to feel really excited too.
‘I have a few things to do after school, so I’ll meet you at yours a bit later,’ she says, before dashing off ahead of me to class. I take my time gathering my things. Then I leave the cafeteria, walking as slowly as possible, steeling myself to face another session of special studies.
When I enter the classroom it’s much the same as last week. The students are seated wherever they feel most comfortable, and they all have their eyes shut as they meditate.
I take the same seat as I had the previous week and take out my tablet. If I have to come to a class there’s no point in me being at, I may as well get some work done for my other subjects.
Mr. Kale walks in and, without saying a word, puts his stuff at his desk before sitting on the floor and taking one of the student’s hands. As the minutes run by I begin to feel unnerved by the class. No one talks, and Mr. Kale just sits next to different students meditating with them—at least I think that’s what they’re doing. I look around at the other students silently sitting there. Is this really what they do every lesson?
I find my eyes are continually drawn back to Mr. Kale. I want to know what else he saw when he took my hands last week. I begin to consider asking him to do another reading.
I start tapping my stylus pen against the desk. I can’t risk him knowing I’m normal. What would they even do with me if they found out? I wish I could ask someone what would happen without revealing the truth about myself.
I look down at my screen and try to concentrate on my maths homework. I’ve been doodling in the margins all class, so there’s a series of shapes and squiggles surrounding my equations.
‘Elle?’ I gasp and jump in my seat. Mr. Kale stands right over me, his face thoroughly disapproving. I hadn’t even heard him walk over.
The ARC 02: Talented Page 9