The Nightmare Game
Page 24
“I know, I feel the same way,” I replied. “It seems like I’ve seen you someplace before, too.”
“You’ve lost your memories, you have an excuse. I don’t,” Ben said. “This isn’t like me at all. I should remember. If I could, then maybe it would give us some clues to your past.”
“That would be awfully nice,” I said wistfully. I was suddenly getting a sinking feeling that my memories were going to be a lot more important to me than I could possibly imagine right now.
“Well, enough of all this serious talk,” Ben said, snapping out of his frustration, his sunny smile returning. “Let’s get back to our tour. Even though we won’t have time today to take in the whole house, I still want to show you the highlights because once you get oriented here, finding your way around the entire mansion gets a lot easier. Besides, while I know these rooms and belongings don’t actually belong to me personally, this is my home and I can’t help but be proud, anyway.”
He continued leading me down the balcony, although I could have stayed in that one spot and stared at the Great Room for a long time without moving. Soon, we came to a large mural. Ben touched it, then slid first one side and then the other into the wall, revealing that it was a hidden door leading into an open gallery. Like the hall and balcony, the gallery was filled with paintings and smaller sculptures. At the rear of the room, in the left hand corner, stood a spiral staircase.
“This is really neat,” he said. I could tell that he was thoroughly enjoying his role as tour guide. “Try to find where the doors went.”
I examined the wall closest to me, but all signs of the door and door cradles had disappeared altogether.
“Where did they go?”
“See this little section of the molding that looks about half a shade darker than the rest?”
“No.” I looked very closely, but try as I might, I saw nothing.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll see it tomorrow, I promise. Anyway, when I press it, the doors reappear.” He touched the spot I could not see and a handle appeared. He pulled it and the sliding door re-emerged. He drew the door out a few inches and then pushed it back into the wall. Again, all signs of it disappeared. “That’s just one of the very neat things about this house,” he continued. “We usually keep this door open. This area is only ever closed off when we have company. I’ll leave it open, now, because I’m pretty sure we can trust you.”
“I wouldn’t think of stealing anything.”
“Oh, it’s not that. We just don’t want outsiders in the conservatory.”
I was amazed at the art collection that hung upon the wall of the gallery area. It was an eclectic mix, works by old masters hung side by side with a very few newer pieces, all interspersed with frightening-looking African masks and other aboriginal carvings. It was a combination that should never have fit together, but somehow it worked here, perhaps because all the art had a dark, brooding feel to it. Whatever cohesion the collection lacked in style, it made up for in mood. There were no landscapes, no still lifes or abstracts in the bunch. No matter what the subject was, male or female, portrait or mythical setting, the people depicted all seemed either hopeless or angry. There was not one painting or sculpture containing a smiling person in the lot.
In the middle of the room was its largest sculpture, a life-size piece of three mediaeval monks, standing in a semi-circle, praying.
“I love this piece,” said Ben as we walked up to it. “It’s one of my favorites in the entire collection. I like to think of them as guardians.”
“What exactly are they guarding?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Just things in general. Truth, justice and the American way, I guess” he said, flashing his smile again. “None of us have a clue what this sculpture’s real name is, we just call these guys ‘The Saints’. There’s something very comforting about this piece. Don’t think me too odd, but sometimes I like to come up here and talk to them. It helps me think. Geoffrey insists that at one time they were part of an old Gothic cathedral. I don’t agree with him but he enjoys the fantasy too much for me to argue.”
“I think you’re right. I don’t see how they could be Gothic.”
“I know my reasons, but what makes you think that?”
“Well, even though the background, base and clothing are in the highly stylized manner of pre-Renaissance sculpture and it certainly looks very old, the faces and hands are far too realistic. They look almost like body casts of Asian men, as a matter of fact. This piece could never be Gothic.”
“Have you studied art?” he asked.
“Hey, you know, I did. I took a few semesters of art history in college. They were required courses.”
“And we know something else about you now. See, I told you that your memories would start coming back. So were you an art history major?”
“No, I was an art major. But art history was a prerequisite to graduate. Ben, why can I remember that and not what I was doing before I got here?”
“Probably because this gallery is jogging your memory. Listen, like I said, I’m sure everything will come back to you eventually.”
“I hope you’re right. But why isn’t it bothering me more, losing my memory? You’d think that I’d be going nuts trying to remember, but I’m not.”
“Because it is coming back to you, even if it is just a little at a time. It will all return eventually, I know it will. And the less you stress about it, the faster it’ll happen. Besides, I plan on keeping you way too busy for it to bug you until it does.”
“Thanks. By the way,” I said, walking to the spiral staircase in the corner. “What’s up there?”
“The third floor. It’s only a partial floor, mainly Arrosha’s personal storage room and the conservatory.”
“Can we go up there?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“No guests are allowed up there, only those in our group. We plan on taking you up there soon, but, like the rest of us when we first arrived, you’ll need to be transformed first before you can enter.”
“Transformed? That’s strange. Transformed in what way?”
“It’s nothing sinister,” he replied. “It’s very lovely. As a matter of fact it’s a process you’ve already begun.”
“How?”
“We gave you the water in an IV solution so that you could get well and then you drank some of it before you went back to sleep.”
“Yeah, and then I drank what was in the glass when I woke up.”
“Wonderful. Arrosha has told me that the water is the first of your transformation steps. After that, you’ll need to take in the essence, that’s our ‘food’, but don’t worry, you’ll love it; everybody does. That’s where we’ll be headed after I show you around a little bit more. After the essence comes the purge, which I’ll explain to you later. Following that, you’ll need to go through the transformation process, which involves meeting Arrosha. You’ll enjoy meeting her, it’s truly wonderful, and the transformation experience itself is very pleasant. Then you’ll be deemed ready at last to enter the conservatory, and we’ll all take you up there. You fall into a unique category, Ashley, because since you weren’t brought to us personally by Arrosha herself, she will have to give you her formal acceptance. But don’t worry, everything’s really very easy and involves no math whatsoever. That’s all there is to it. I’m sure you’ll be accepted, since Arrosha has expressed a great interest in you and is allowing you to take essence, even though you came to us in such an unorthodox fashion. Right now, though, you are still only her guest and therefore not allowed upon the third floor. But if she accepts you, and I’m sure she will, you can go up there, for you will no longer be her guest. Like the rest of us, you will then be her child.”
“Say what?” This was far from any answer I’d expected to get. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”
“Not at all, Ashley, you remember that I told you that Arrosha was our fearless leader?”
“Yes.”
“All I see is that she’s enormously wealthy, Ben.”
“Oh, no, it is much, much more than that.”
“What is it, then?”
“The conservatory is a sacred sanctuary, Ashley. It’s Arrosha’s sacred temple.”
“Her temple? You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. You see, Arrosha is not just our leader, she’s not just the owner of this mansion. She’s our Queen. She is our Goddess, the true Goddess. All of us that live here worship her and follow her faithfully, for we are her chosen, we are her children.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What? You can’t possibly be serious,” I replied, shocked. While my personal memories may have counted less than the fingers of one hand, my general memories seemed more or less intact. There was something fishy going on. The mansion with its displays of too much money, the robes, the no-food policy, it all added up, didn’t it? I’d landed into a freaking cult and now they were trying to recruit me. While that was bad enough, alarm bells in my head went off, leaving me with a feeling that there was more to this situation than I could possibly imagine right now. I tried hard to remember, but there was nothing to retrieve. What was it? It had to be important. Why couldn’t I remember? Why were my memories gone?
“I’m sorry that’s such a shock, Ashley. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Ben said. Realizing that I hadn’t taken the news quite as well as he’d expected, he was trying his level best to soothe me. “Hey, I know that sort of thing’s not something that you hear everyday, but you really needed to know. I tried to break it to you as gently as I could. I guess it just wasn’t gentle enough.”
“Listen, I appreciate everything you guys did for me, but I don’t want any part of any new religion, okay?”
“It isn’t a new religion, Ashley, it’s actually a very old one.”
“Whatever. New, old, it’s still a cult, right? You’re in a freaking cult and this is a freaking cult house, isn’t it?” I said, backing away from him. “I should have known. What are you going to do? Brainwash me? Make me join?”
Ben was genuinely concerned. “Relax, Ashley, please. We’re not a cult, we’re not dangerous and none of us are brainwashed. We all have our own free will.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what they all say. No wonder there’s so much money here. There usually is in phony religion.”
“It’s not phony, Ashley. While we are a small, devoted group of worshipers, we are certainly no cult. We’re not into recruitment, which is why there are so few of us. You can’t understand it because you haven’t seen the miracles that we have. That’s why we believe, it’s not blind faith. In fact, you’re the only person that’s ever come here without being personally chosen by Arrosha herself. We don’t just pick people up off the street. In fact, we’ve never even had anyone land at our doorstep before.”
“So I’m the first recruit? I should have known.”
“No, trust me, you’re not. You’re our guest, Ashley, our honored guest. You just have the remarkable distinction of being the only person that’s arrived here unannounced.”
“You’re telling me that nobody from the outside has ever been here?” I questioned.
“I didn’t say that. We do have guests from time to time attending our parties, but they are always invited. People from all walks of life have come here and they are always allowed to leave again of their own free will. We’ve had guests that have wanted to stay, wanted to join us, but they were not allowed to. Only those of us chosen by Arrosha are allowed to join, are allowed live here. Our group is certainly no cult; it has more in common, I suppose, with a private club than with anything else. That you’ve been given permission to stay, that you’ve been invited to take essence with us is a singular honor. Please, just stay here for a few days until your memory returns enough for you to remember where you live so that we can get you home safely. If you don’t like it here, then leave. I’m sorry that I didn’t break the news to you more gently. I’m sorry, too, if it ever sounded like I was pushing you into something. I guess I just liked you a lot from the beginning, so I presumed too much. I’ll back off, I promise. We all will. If you don’t like it here, you can leave. I’ll talk to Arrosha and arrange to take you back myself, to New Orleans, to your home, to wherever you want to go; but if you like it here and if Arrosha approves you, then please consider staying with us.”
“You’re not just saying this to calm me down? I can really leave when I want to?”
“I promise. You are not a prisoner here. Like I said, all I ask is for you to wait until more of your memory comes back; it simply wouldn’t be safe for you to leave before then. You’ve already begun to remember a few things, so I’m sure that it’ll come back soon. Personally, I’d like you to stay because you seem like you’d be a wonderful friend, but I’d never force you or try to brainwash you into it. It really is your choice and only your choice.” Ben seemed so honest and sincere that I couldn’t help but believe him. Besides, I really had no option because, with so little personal memory, I truly had nowhere else to go.
“Nobody’s going to start pressuring me to stay, then?” I double-checked.
“I promise. I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but there are several among us that are suspicious of you because you didn’t arrive in the traditional way.”
“Did you? I mean, the ‘traditional way’?”
“Like I tried to explain, Arrosha brought all the rest of us here herself. I was the first. She rescued me. She rescued all of us.”
“That doesn’t make her a deity.” I wondered how anyone as decent as Ben seemed could buy into such an outlandish claim.
He looked at me with an expression of great sincerity that matched his tone of voice. “I know how hard it must be to believe when you haven’t actually experienced one of her miracles. She can do things no mere person can do. She is a Goddess, Ashley. She really is the true Goddess and I’ve seen the proof myself. I’m old enough to know the difference between a fraud and the real thing. And she is the Real Deal.”
“You’re old enough? Ben, you can’t be that old. You couldn’t possibly be a day over twenty-five.”
“Remember I told you not even to try to do the math? Ashley, looks are enormously deceiving around here. I’m a lot older than I look.”
“How old are you, then.”
“I stopped counting birthdays a long time ago because they no longer fit. But I can tell you that I’m pushing the century mark.”
My mouth dropped open. “No.”
“Oh, yes. I was sixty-three years old and dying when Arrosha rescued me and turned me into the man you see before you today. I told you she performed miracles. I’m just one of them.”
“You can’t be serious,” I asked, incredulous.
“I am and I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow like I promised, okay? Listen, I’m thirsty. How about you?”
“A little,” I answered, realizing that Ben was shifting the conversation. I let it go, vowing that I would not let him change the subject again tomorrow. Then I would make him keep his promise to tell me everything.
“All this talking is making my throat a little dry,” he said, walking behind the spiral staircase. I followed him to a gargoylesque water cooler hidden in the corner, where he pulled out two large glasses from a cabinet, filled one and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Not a problem,” he said as he poured the second glass for himself. “There are water fountains in various guises all about the mansion and grounds, so if you get thirsty, let me know and I’ll point them out until you get more familiar with our layout.”
The water flowed through me, refreshing me in a way I had n
ever known before. It was as if I could actually feel my cells rejuvenating.
“This has got to be the best water that I’ve ever had in my entire life,” I commented as we finished drinking.
“It certainly is,” he confirmed. “Purer stuff, you will never find. Feel better now?”
“I’m doing wonderful,” I answered, reinvigorated. “I don’t even know now why I was stressing.”
“Fabulous. Shall we continue our tour now?”
“Lead the way, Kimosabe.”
“Great. I’ll condense my little lecture on this gallery to make it quick.”
“You’ve done this before, I take it,”
“Oh, many times,” Ben said, proudly. “As a matter of fact, you could say that I am our group’s official greeter and tour guide.”
“I’m impressed,” I said playfully.
“As well you should be,” he teased back. “Okay, now that I’ve told you who Arrosha is, the history behind these works will make more sense,” he began with the polished, well-rehearsed air of a museum curator. “This entire floor contains the major paintings of Arrosha’s collection. Her tastes are varied but defined. With sculpture, she has a preference for antiquities and the medieval. With masks and wall hangings, she prefers tribal and aboriginal art. With jewelry and weaponry, her tastes are broad, although she shows little interest in anything created after the 1930’s. As you can see, this broadness of taste extends also to her collection of paintings, although in general, she does favor Russian and Byzantine Iconic art, the old masters and the romantic painters of the nineteenth century. Most of the paintings on this second floor fall into this category they are all originals, to the very last one. That one is a Reubens,” he said as he pointed them out, “and these are, respectively, a Remembrandt, a Titian, a Raphael. Most of the newer works are displayed in other areas of the mansion, with the notable exception of Francis Bacon, whose work is displayed on this opposite wall along with the northern painters of the Renaissance, her favorite of whom is Heronomous Bach.”