Dreams Ltd

  I didn’t understand anything. My mind was confused, the facts that my eyes were seeing, didn’t not fit into any picture and my logic refused to come to any conclusions. Did Tabitha have enemies? As far as I knew she has never been at loggerheads with anyone. Then why would someone deliberately harass her? Especially in this way...

  Realising that the dozens of questions spinning in my head, will not be answered in the next five minutes, I began to plan my action:

  A. Inspect the tube and find the damage.

  B. If so, find someone who could fix it.

  C. Go and report the incident to Hulk if he is in his office.

  D. But if I’m away for too long, even more damage will be caused by the water.

  Thus, points C and D were automatically reversed. First I had to save everything I can still save and only then report to Hulk that someone had intentionally ambushed the warehouse. What will he do after that? Will everybody be punished if the one who caused it is not found?

  Groaning from the strain, I quickly began picking everything out of the water and putting it on the tables, slowly making my way towards the pipes which I assumed were located under the sinks in the far corner. Long metal table surfaces’ were covered with everything that previously was on shelves above them: rice, buckwheat, dried corn and God knows what else...

  As I got closer to the sinks, I got down on my knees (I didn’t care about my jeans anymore, they’ll dry later) and began inspecting the pipes. Five minutes later, the conclusion was obvious - they were in perfect condition. Hence, the flooding was caused by someone intentionally.

  What the f...?

  I groaned and straightened my stiff back. Someone (or all of us) will be punished for this. Damn it!

  Gritting my teeth with rage, I quickly looked around the room. No matter who that bastard was that destroyed everything in here, the priority is to deal with the mess. The most important stuff for Tabitha was the food and, hence, my primary task was to remove it from the water. Only after everything is cleaned and dried, I can go and talk to Hulk, so he can start looking for the culprit.

  Once again, I looked around and almost groaned – this will take hours! I’ll be stuck here sorting out this mess until dusk and beyond. What a goddamn day!

  If only I knew how right I was.

  After I was finished cleaning and sorting things out, I opened the entrance door - it was dark outside.

  As soon as the sun reaches the edge of the mountains, the darkness seems to throw a velvet cover over the valley below, exposing the sole eye of the moon, shining from the black sky, covered with a scattering of stars.

  The light in the room was already off, and now I was trying to find my shoes that I left on the porch. Here is one... but where is the other one? I put the first one on and began looking around trying to find where the other one had gone. They were here on the porch before, but now one of the trainers was missing. It was not on the porch or in the grass nearby, it wasn’t under the porch either, I bent down and looked under there, except that I did not poke my hand into the darkness - too scary.

  Swearing my head off I got up and walked to the house, pressing my bare heel against the grass. That was it. Enough of this crap for one day. I’ll come back and look for the second shoe tomorrow and if I don’t find it, I’ll go to Tally and buy a new pair. I’m fed up!

  Almost spluttering from the irritation and fatigue, I passed by the kitchen. The light was already off and the washed pots were indistinctly glimmering in the moonlight.

  I missed dinner but Tabitha, who’d apparently already gone to bed, probably left something in the fridge for me. I didn’t feel hungry though. What I really wanted was to take a shower and go to bed, but I have to forget about it - the first thing I had to do was to go to Hulk and tell him about everything that’s happened. The sooner I do it, the better.

  I looked at my bare feet and swore again. Should I go and see him like this? Do I have any other option? Complete barefoot, maybe? I looked like a total tramp - my t-shirt was dirty, my jeans were wet and one shoe was missing, and I to top it off I was really sweaty. And what the hell happened to the shoe?

  Loud voices and tramping of feet were heard from the yard. The voices belonged to the guards. They were either running somewhere or after someone. What other idiotic duties did they have? Now I didn’t care, they could shout all night long and I could not give a damn.

  The hubbub quietened down a little, when I went into the house and slipped into the dark corridors. Here was the familiar door of my little room - once again I regretted that I couldn’t just go in and fall asleep, I had to talk to Hulk first. Only after that I could allow myself to watch some sweet dreams and enjoy every minute of the well-deserved rest, which clearly was not gonna happen today, judging by how loud the men’s voices were roaring in the yard. Why are they all so enraged? Did they get tired from drinking beer and watching football?

  I inserted the key into the lock and pushed the door. Before I went inside, a heavy smell of petrol hit me in the face. What the hell...? Why would my room smell of petrol? It didn’t when I left it earlier today...

  My heart starting beating franticly and fast, as it often happens when a head gets a good doze of panic mixed with adrenaline. The premonition of something terrible was not just lurking in the back of my mind, but it was flashing with the red “caution” sign. The buzzing in my ears stopped me from realising that the guards’ voices were now screaming somewhere in the house.

  Almost entranced, I reached out to the switch to turn on the light. Why does it stink so badly here? When the light from the single light bulb filled the room with sallowness, I quickly knelt down and looked under the bed. There was a canister like one of those I’ve seen several times in the garage. I pushed it with my hand and judging by the sound it was empty. What kind of joke is this? What is the empty petrol canister doing under my bed? And why my blue t-shirt was laying on the bedcover, looking dirty and... burnt?

  When Greg broke into the room, I just stood beside the bed, holding the ruined piece of clothing in my hands.

  “Here she is! My darling! Take her!”

  Some other men appeared from behind his back - a lot of them. Someone was pushing me, someone was tying up my hands, verbally abusing me, but I was hardly able to think - I was shaking and shifting my gaze from one guard to another and then to my burnt blue t-shirt that Greg was now holding in his hands.

  The smell of petrol became unbearable.

  Hulk was furious.

  He was not just on edge, he was seriously livid. Nobody - not as a joke and not as some revenge action - had the right to set any buildings on fire at his ranch, and especially those, inhabited by people or where the food was stored. No one, not a single person will be forgiven for that, and now he was angrily staring at Shereen standing between the guards. He didn’t want to believe that it was her who’d done this, but he just couldn’t ignore the fact that Greg was holding her burnt t-shirt in one hand and the empty petrol canister in another. Hulk firmly gritted his teeth, as if trying to hold back the words of disappointment, which would invariably slip from his tongue if they were alone in the room.

  Shereen stood there quietly. Her hair was matted, her T-shirt was wet and one shoe was missing. The skin on her face was white as chalk, her eyes were shining feverishly and the whole body was trembling, in spite of the fact that the guards were holding her tightly.

  Greg, who was no less angry then Hulk, continued to speak, spitting his words out as if they were portions of poison.

  “.... she poured petrol on the barrack’s wall immediately after she’d done the same with the barn, and that’s why it ignited straight away. Dry grass is a good conductor for flame.”

  “Why?!” Hulk roared, “Why would you burn it?”

  “I didn’t...” Shereen tried to answer, but the words seemed to be lodged in her throat. Finally, she barely managed to utter, “I didn’t do that.”

  Hulk shook his head.

  �
��Why is your t-shirt burnt out? And where did you get the petrol?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Greg laughed hoarsely.

  “Of course! She doesn’t know! As if it has just materialised out of nowhere”

  “I didn’t do anything...” Shereen was shaking her head, constantly repeating the same words, “I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t even there...”

  “Where is your shoe?” Hulk asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How did the petrol get into your room?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t there when I left...”

  “Why your t-shirt is burnt?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Hulk angrily spat out swear words.

  “Can’t you see that this all looks like a complete bullshit? Your plan has been exposed but you still keep on denying it. Where is your bravery?! Why can’t you just admit that it was huge malicious revenge?”

  Shereen could hardly speak from despair. Who did this to her and why? She had never seen Hulk so angry, Greg was just grinning smugly at Shereen’s attempts to justify herself. This whole situation looked like a horror movie where a nasty ending was approaching at the speed of a fast train and she had no idea how to help herself.

  “I was in the warehouse! I was cleaning there! Ask Tabitha - she has sent me there and she knows everything and can confirm...”

  “Who else was with you?” Hulk’s eyes narrowed.

  The silence hung in the room. No matter how much Shereen wanted this moment to become a turning point, there wasn’t a single witnesses who could verify her alibi. So she only clenched her fists and exhaled.

  “There wasn’t anybody with me. I was alone.”

  Hulk bowed his head in disappointment, looking at the floor.

  “But Tabitha knows that I was in there! She asked me to help, because everything inside was in tatters...”

  “Did she actually see you there?”

  “No.”

  At this very moment two more guards burst into the room breathing heavily and one of them was holding what Shereen was looking thirty minutes ago - her other shoe. But now it was charred, almost completely blackened by the flame. Of course! She nearly groaned. Whoever was her enemy - they put some tremendous efforts into providing the authorities with evidences.

  “It was found behind the burning barracks.”

  An eerie silence filled the room and a second later it was interrupted by the nasty laughter of the senior ward.

  “Were you in that much of a hurry that you lost a shoe?” He was almost rolling on the floor with laughter, knowing that this time that bitch will never avoid the heavy punishment. No way!

  Hulk stopped Greg’s nasty laughter with an angry gesture and it became hushed in the office.

  “Is that yours?” He asked plainly.

  Shereen swallowed the lump in her throat. That was it. The end. And there was nothing she could do about this since there are too many things and people are playing against her in this game. Someone really wanted her to retire from the playing field, and now it doesn’t matter how she lived her life and what she did in the past, all her nice deeds have been forgotten in an instance and there was only this petrol canister, burnt out t-shirt and the shoe now remained in the minds of people surrounding her.

  “Yes, it is mine.” Shereen replied, not looking at Hulk anymore. She was too scared. That so familiar coldness and loneliness slipped inside. The fear paralysed her limbs, thickened the blood, dried the tongue and made her hands cold and trembling. She hated it. But hatred didn’t help to get rid of the fear, quite the opposite, it felt like fear grew stronger because of it.

  Hulk was silent. It was almost physically painful to see the disappointment in his eyes. Others were quiet too, waiting for the final verdict to be made. Only the clock on the wall kept on ticking and breaking the silence.

  Hulk went to the window and now paused there. Shereen knew - he was now in a process of making his final decision. A tough and cruel decision - exactly the one that the person who dared to set the building with people inside on fire deserved. And this decision will be justified and adamant. It will, most definitely, please the guards, heal Greg’s wounded ego, will become a perfect illustrative examples for the rest workers at the ranch, and most likely completely ruin Shereen’s life, depriving her of the right to freedom forever.

  Or even worse - will cost her a life.

  She shuddered.

  But she hasn’t done anything! It was someone else and she had to try and prove it to Hulk, had to make him listen to her and believe her! She must delay his wrong and inevitable final conclusion. It wasn’t right to pay for something you weren’t responsible for, it was unfair and it should never be like that! But how is it possible to make him hear her out?

  Hulk stood silently staring into the darkness outside the window, where sunset faded a long time ago. It wasn’t easy to think straight. Behind him there was a hoard of heavily breathing men and one pathetic girl who dared to cross the line - the boundaries of the dangerous area marked with red, where Hulk’s patience no longer existed. No one ever dared to cross it and expect to get away with it.

  Why? He almost shook his head again, but stopped himself from doing so. Why did she do this? Did her anger overpower her common sense? He didn’t want to believe it, and a part of him continued to deny Shereen’s involvement in the arson. But Hulk has already understood that recently she became his weak spot and his response to her actions was inadequate, hence, his disbelief of her involvement is probably just another attempt to justify her, no matter whether she really was guilty or not, and that was not the way to make the right decisions. Getting involved emotionally never helps to be objective, so in order to make the right decision, he has to base his conclusion on evidences provided by the guards and not on his intuition.

  This thought gnawed Hulk invisibly.

  Something in this whole story didn’t quite fit. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, because logically all the links were connecting the chain of events perfectly well, where everything lead to one conclusion - Shereen was directly involved in the arson and unfortunately the guards had plenty of evidence to prove this.

  But why wouldn’t she confess then? After all, there were plenty of examples of her impulsive actions, after which she’d sincerely repented about the committed deeds. So why was it different now? Because this situation was way too serious? Wasn’t there any more courage to say “Yes, I’ve done that”? How was it possible to deny her involvement, when so much evidence was facing her? In fact, too many evidence...

  Hulk frowned. He definitely didn’t like something about this and felt annoyed because time was pressing him stronger and stronger with every passing minute. Everyone was waiting for his final word, reprimands and punishments to be said and done. Yes, he was short of time and had to act now. Before coming to a final conclusion, he reluctantly turned and walked over to Shereen.

  “Do you have anything you would like to say?”

  She nodded. The words weren’t coming easily to her, and her stare was penetrating directly through to his heart as if she was mentally asking him to listen carefully to what she has to say. Ok. He can do that. And Shereen, feeling Hulk’s silent approval, began to speak.

  “This afternoon, when I returned to my room from the stone-pit, some of my things were missing. I think someone has got a duplicate of my key and entered my private territory when I wasn’t there.”

  Greg immediately soared.

  “You lying bitch?!”

  “Shut up!” Hulk roared, “All must keep quiet until she is finished talking! Go on.”

  He nodded to Shereen, asking her to continue, while listening to her and trying to put the pieces of her story together. It was very important to understand which version of it was true - the one that his guards told him about or the one that was now going to be told by Shereen. Hulk knew from his past experience that in such cases haste or negligence could become a fatal turning po
int in someone's life, therefore his mind was working hard – analysing everything that was being said, comparing the details, going through the options and selecting those that seemed logically and intuitively correct.