“Of all the girls I never thought it would be you.”
“Mother?” Adrianne said.
Mother slapped her hard across the face.
“Don’t call me that, you little whore.” Adrianne tried to move her hands. They were tied together.
“The little brown girl with the big brown eyes. So innocent. So pure. You were actually one of my favorites.”
Helen whimpered, water flowing down her face.
“I remember when your mother brought you here. We normally wouldn’t take a girl like you. We only take girls from the best families to serve with us. But she’d been beaten by a man, and I felt sorry for her. She said you were good. So I made an exception. Now look at you. … Nothing to say?”
Adrianne swallowed.
“Lower her.”
Adrianne felt the floor beneath her going down.
“What’s happening?”
“Don’t you know what we do to little girls who can’t keep their legs closed?”
The chair Adrianne was tied to rocked a little as she shook it with all her might. It remained firmly secured on the plank as she was lowered into the open grave. She went down and down and down until the ground came up to her waist, then her bust.
“And don’t worry about your boyfriend. Antoine is dead. We threw his body into the river last night.”
“No …” she whispered. The air escaped her lungs. “No …”
The smell of the moist, cool earth surrounded her. In those last few moments when she could still see her Sisters and the Mother, her urge to scream faded. Antoine was dead, and so to die was of little consequence. And a few things that had been a mystery, now seemed so clear.
She said in a calm voice as a heavy slab of granite was slowly rolled overhead, “You are wrong to do this and one day you will know.” The light slipped away from the edges of the slab as they were sealed by the mason workers. The scraping sounds of the cement being smoothed and finished echoed in the emptiness of her tomb.
There was very little air now. Adrianne swooned and woke moments later to the blackness. She thought then that it was best to go back to sleep. Maybe when she woke again, she would find herself in the arms of the one she loved.
6.
>>
>> suspend
** SYSTEM SUSPENDED **
>> run diagnostics
.
.
.
*DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE*
==> ERRORS FOUND: FRAGMENTATION @ SECTOR: 10110001
RUNNING REPAIRS
.
.
.
“Adrianne … Adrianne … can you hear me?” The doctor waved his fingers before her eyes, then took some notes. “Reduce her dosage by 25 milligrams. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be more responsive.”
*ERRORS LOCALIZED*
.
.
.
“Adrianne … Adrianne?” the doctor said.
She turned her eyes toward him.
“Blink if you understand me.”
She blinked.
“Do you know where you are? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
She blinked twice.
“You’re in a hospital. We are taking good care of you. Don’t worry, just rest.”
He tapped her on the arm and smiled grimly. She felt feverish inside her skull, as if she were smoldering behind her face. Heavy, drowsy. Her head turned, her consciousness followed moments later. Cool lids closed over hot eyes. Slowly she drifted back to sleep.
>>
>> system reset
.
.
.
“How are you doing today?”
“Better.”
“Good, good.”
.
.
.
It was a warm day, and the patients were allowed outside. They wore soft hospital gowns that were almost white, but upon closer inspection they were light blue. Some with stripes. Some with paisleys. Some with tiny wildflowers. The patients roamed this section of the grounds in sight of the staff. Some stood still with sun on their faces. Being locked up made the warmth of it feel like heaven. Trees surrounded the neatly kept lawn, and chairs painted a crisp white sat lonely among them. Adrianne found a plot of soft grass and sat down. Wet soaked through her gown to her butt. She didn’t care. She liked the smell of the grass. Her mind drifted off to the place it had been going more and more lately. She was in her safe place.
Behind her loomed a large brick mansion with a large porch bordered by Corinthian columns. It was a home for those who couldn’t cope on the outside.
“Adrianne, how are you feeling today?” a doctor asked.
“Fine,” Adrianne said, not facing him.
“Adrianne, my name is Dr. Tomas. I have been assigned to your case.”
The wind smelled good, sweet like newly fallen rain. She felt him sit down in the chair next to her and wondered what he looked like, though not enough to turn around and see for herself.
“Could you tell me why you did it?” He waited for an answer that did not come. “Adrianne, why did you try to kill yourself?”
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“If we are to make any progress, you will need to be honest —”
Adrianne heard his words and ignored their meaning. It was the way of things, she thought. People talk and talk and say silly things that don’t mean anything.
“War is coming,” she said.
“What?”
“War is coming.”
She turned around and faced him for the first time. He was young. Too young to be a doctor, she thought. And on this side of handsome. She stood for a moment to gaze at the trees whose boughs swayed gently in the breeze. Something rustled in the wet leaves covering the ground — a small rabbit, sitting on its hindquarters, nibbling on a stalk of grass. As she watched, it hopped away, disappearing into a hole it had dug somewhere.
“A war is coming …”
In a comfortable living room–style lounge with a ping-pong table off to the side, a nice setting with heavy locks and bars on the windows and a basketball game on the television, a man with salt-and-pepper hair, who seemed as though he belonged at home playing with his grandchildren, sat in front of the set. People, young and old and of every shade and description, roamed around. Some looked visibly frightened, others looked tired. Adrianne sat by herself, staring into that far-off place in her mind again. She thought in numbers.
One zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“There’s some crazy ass motherfuckers up in here!” Hector laughed. He wore ill-fitting Daisy Dukes with thick unshaven legs and held a hairbrush.
“Hey, honey. What you doing?” He pointed to Adrianne with his brush, then smoothed it over his shoulder-length hair that was tousled even though he constantly brushed it.
… one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“Okay, honey. Whatever. Stare into space for all I care.” Hector waved his brush in Adrianne’s face, then sat down. “Shove over a bit, sweetie, so I can sit, gee.” Adrianne moved.
… one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“You’re new. What you in here for?” Hector asked. “No, wait, let me guess … schizo, right? Or, bipolar with complications.” Hector laughed. “Lawd, those damn complications will get you every time!” He brushed his hair. “Me? Well, honey, I’m not here for the reason you think. Yes, I am a transsexual, thank you. Not a transvestite. That’s a whole nother thing. I don’t mess around in women’s clothes ’cus I like it. I am an actual woman. God just gave me a little something extra at birth, which ain’t none of your damn business. But they think I need to get my head straight, s’cuse the pun. It was all that crying I did after my momma passed. The
y say that I can’t take care of myself.”
… zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero …
“But I know better, though.” Hector stopped brushing his hair. “Right, Little Stevie?”
“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said as he sat in front of the television.
“I mean, crying after your momma dies is normal, isn’t it? It’s as normal as 1-2-3. You’re supposed to cry when you lose somebody special, right? Well, these suckers think it was a sign that something was wrong. So what, I cried for a few months? Ain’t nothing wrong with me, honey. I know who I am. I was just born into the wrong body, that’s all. And my momma was the only one that understood. The only one that mattered …” Hector went back to brushing his hair. “Right, Little Stevie?”
“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said.
… one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“Now they got me on these happy pills.” Hector did a wiggle dance with his butt on the couch next to Adrianne. “Woo! Love them happy pills.”
“War is coming.”
“What you say, honey?”
“War is coming.”
“War is coming? As far as I can see, war is already here!” Hector blurted with a fake laugh. “Right, Little Stevie?”
“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said.
“Oh, yes, you gotta fight through this life, girl. Every day, every day. Every-single-day is a battle, chile.”
… one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“You know what? I like you. You wanna be my friend, honey?” Hector said, gently poking Adrianne with his hairbrush.
“You’re already my friend, Helen.”
… one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one …
“What did you just say?” Hector poked her some more with his brush. “What did you just call me?” Hector bopped her hard with the brush.
Adrianne focused for the first time in days. “Helen, you didn’t have to hit me. I said that I was your friend.”
Hector stood up. “God, how you know my name? Only my momma knows my name! And she’s dead. Dead, dead, dead. Chile, how you know my name?”
The orderlies came over. They were bulky men who grabbed Hector by both arms.
“Come on, Hector. Leave her alone.”
“No, but she knows my name.”
“We know your name, too, Hector. It’s time for your pill.”
“No,” he said. “How you know my name, honey? You know my name,” Hector said as he was taken away. “But she knows my name. Honey, how you know my name?”
… zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero …
>>
>>
>> opendialog SECTOR: 10110001
: How are you doing?
“What?”
: I said, how are you doing?
“You tell me.”
: You seem troubled.
“I’m not troubled. Just tired.”
: Get some rest. It will be better soon.
“Who the hell are you anyway? And how are you in my head?”
: end;
>>
>> continue
BRIDGE PROCESS: CONTINUED
.
.
.
“How are you doing?”
“Why do you keep asking me that? You are always in my head.”
Dr. Tomas took down some notes on his clipboard.
“We want to try something with you that we think might help.”
“Are you asking me for permission or telling me what you are going to do?”
He took down some notes.
“You seem more aware today. That’s good.”
Adrianne scanned the office. Pictures of the doctor’s children and of his new bride on their wedding day sat on his desk. A framed painting on the wall overshadowed the room. It was of a man sailing a boat along a river and an elk staring up from the bushes to the side.
“I know that man.”
“What man?”
“The man in the painting. Someone should tell him he’s in trouble on that water.”
The doctor took down some more notes.
“Adrianne, why don’t we try to talk some more about why you are here?”
She focused more on the painting, following the flow of the acrylic waters that sparkled with dots of white from the yellow-orange sun and the curious elk in the bushes who seemed to blink.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You tried to hurt yourself.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“How do you remember it then?”
Adrianne stared past the doctor and studied the two big filing cabinets that stood guard by the door, holding the secrets of many deranged minds. Adrianne wondered if the stories they held were real or as imagined as everything else around her.
“Adrianne, how do you remember it?”
Adrianne looked Dr. Tomas in the eyes. “I don’t remember it,” she lied, “but I know that I didn’t hurt myself.”
The doctor wrote something down on his clipboard.
“You said before that ‘War is coming.’ What did you mean by that?”
“Just what I said.”
“What war do you mean?”
Silence.
Dr. Tomas looked off into space for a minute, considering.
“Tell me about Antoine.”
A twinge of pain. A raised eyebrow.
“What do you want to know?”
“You seemed to have cared for him quite a bit.”
Silence.
“His death must have been a very painful experience for you.”
Again silence.
“Tell me about him. What was he like?”
… zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero zero zero one one zero one one zero …
“Adrianne?” The doctor wrote something down.
“Adrianne, there is a new medication that I would like to give to you. I think it may help you moderate your moods.”
Adrianne concentrated on the light streaming through the barred window that sent shadows to the walls in shapes of grids and lines. The color of the curtains was a shade of cream fit for pouring into coffee. The smell of artificial lemon and pine furniture wax permeated the air and made her feel woozy.
“Thomas, I know you’re only trying to help. Do what you think is best.”
** BREAK **
>>
>>
>> createdoc defrag.fi
# defrag.fi -- defragments a life span
# by compressing it segment by segment
init time, place;
init life_span;
init segment = _get(param[0]);
life_span = getLifespan (segment);
place = getLocation (life_span);
print “** Defragging…”;
while (life_span)
{
if ( fragmented (life_span)) then
{
time = getTimeLine (life_span);
life_span = _compress (time, place);
life_span = getNextLifespan (life_span);
}
else break;
}
return print “**Lifespan Defragmentation Complete”;
.eof
>>
>>
>> execute defrag 177
** Defragging…
Adrian sat in the back of the room, eyes wide open in the dark. Dr. Tomas looked in on him through a slit in the door. They stared each other down. Predator to prey.
“How are you doing today?�
�
In a low whisper Adrian answered, “Why don’t you come in here and find out?”
A cold chill.
“Would you like me to come inside?”
“Yes,” Adrian said calmly, “that way I can pluck your eyes out of their sockets, doctor.”
Dr. Tomas closed the slit on the door and turned to the orderly. “Increase his medication.”
>>
>> process -b
[1] 01110001 04:31:02
[2] 10101100 10:52:49
[3] 10110001 00:00:00
[4] 10101011 53:45:13
[5] 10010101 34:38:24
.
.
>> kill [3]
>> kill [3]
>> kill [3]
>>
>>
“Adrian, this is Dr. Tomas. Can you hear me?”
A snarl vibrated from behind the locked door. Adrian sounded like a large cat with teeth made for rending flesh. He hissed, then went quiet like a menacing dark spirit in the back of the cell.
“How long has he been like this?”
“All night.”
A growl, low and intense.
“This is not working.” He wrote out a new script. “Stop the medication and give him this.”
>> kill –l [3]
*PROCESS 10110001 TERMINATED*
>> clear
.
.
.
**Lifespan Defragmentation Complete
>>
>> restart process 10110001
*PROCESS 10110001 RESTARTED*
>>
.
.
.
7.
Antoine walked across the wet cobblestone driveway toward the modern wing of the hospital. He wore a military-issue jacket and heavy boots, fresh home from his stint overseas. The sky was clear and moist after a mid-morning shower. He pulled up his collar and ducked his head. As he approached the hospital, he faced his reflection in the glass doors and saw what others saw. He was very good-looking, a condition of birth. It hadn’t made the struggles of his recent years any easier, his pain any less, or his burdens any lighter.
A flutter flutter of wings in the trees made him look up. The birds that had gathered in the branches were rustling the leaves. A sudden gust of wind forced them to take flight, filling the blue sky with a parade of flapping black sideways parentheses. In the distance, he saw the spires of the city and above them, a mist falling down. From where he stood, the sky directly overhead hung a calm and beautiful blue.
Elysium Page 6