In the Shadows of Freedom

by C

  Amanda couldn’t understand it. “It’s a regular Tuesday night. This many people go out on a weekday?”

  “They go to Little Pete’s,” Ethan replied.

  “Maybe you could be a little less cryptic?” Amanda said.

  He laughed. “You’re one to talk.”

  They passed the dragon mural and entered the first floor, which looked even more crowded than Friday night. They weaved through the pockets of people. Ethan had a destination in mind, and she happily let him guide her.

  The music blared louder than ever on the second floor. Flashing fluorescent lights flooded the hall as dancers gyrated all across the densely packed floor. She followed Ethan and Nikki to the back staircase, which led to the third floor. A large, muscular man blocked the way. A bouncer? She had no idea about things like this.

  Nikki bent closer to the bouncer, whispering in his ear and running her hand down his well-built arm. They were obviously well-acquainted with each other. Nikki and the bouncer had a few more brief exchanges, too soft to catch, and then Nikki moved past the man, up the stairs. His eyes followed her with longing. Ethan led Amanda forward. She could now read the large sign behind the man: NO ADMITTANCE.

  “Ramsey! Dude!” The man gave Ethan a fist bump.

  “What’s happening, Jadyn? Seems pretty crowded tonight.”

  “Yeah, great crowd. Even better upstairs. You headed up there?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. By the way, this is Amanda. She’ll be coming with me.”

  “Don’t let me keep you from all the fun. I’ll be up soon enough.” He moved his large frame out of the way. “Nice to meet you, Amanda.” He nodded and Amanda gave a small wave, intimidated by his enormous proportions.

  “I thought the top floor was closed.” She followed closely at Ethan’s heels up the stairs. “I didn’t see any lights on up here when we were outside.”

  “Correct. It is closed—to the uninitiated, that is.”

  They entered the large room. The exhibit was still displayed, the red lights dancing upon the disturbing works of art. Yet unlike her last visit, couches and chairs now filled the room. Soft light flickered from the many candles placed throughout the space. About fifty people mingled around the room, lounging on the couches or clustered in smaller groups, talking and laughing. Amanda spotted a few people with art supplies, sketching. Large blackout curtains obscured the windows overlooking the street, which was why the floor had appeared vacant from the outside.

  “Ethan! So great to see you!” A beautiful woman approached them and embraced Ethan.

  Amanda recognized her: Nikki’s friend, Heather. Purple streaks colored her long blonde hair. And, of course, she looked like she had just stepped off the runway.

  “You haven’t been here in a while,” Heather said. “We’ve missed you.”

  “Thanks, Heather. I’ve been working overtime, especially with my latest NCP assignment.”

  Heather’s eyes widened. “Oh, absolutely. I’m glad you could get away for the night.” She seemed to notice Amanda for the first time. “Hi! It’s Amanda, right? Nikki’s roommate … I met you on Friday.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Welcome to the club, then.”

  “It looks pretty different in here with all the chairs and couches.” Amanda cringed inside: Had she resorted to conversing about upholstery?

  “Of course. We need the right set and setting, clearly.” Heather tossed her long locks behind her shoulder, but Amanda couldn’t stop staring at her eyes. Her pupils were massive black discs with only the smallest circumference of blue around them.

  Ethan began steering Amanda in another direction. “We’ll have to catch up with you later, Heather.”

  They walked a few steps, and then another woman called Ethan’s name. They turned in the direction of her voice. Amanda hadn’t seen her at first, but now there was no mistaking that face and those greasy strands of hair.

  “Ethan!” Leila squealed, throwing her arms around him.

  Amanda resisted a strong urge to shove her away. Could Leila grip him any tighter?

  “Leila! How’s it going?”

  “Great, now that you’re here!” She beamed, but, spotting Amanda, her face soon clouded with displeasure. “Oh, hi, Amanda.”

  “Um. Hi.”

  She smirked. “How’s your semester project going?”

  “I … haven’t really started it yet.”

  “No? I’ve been to the Met three times already. My initial sketch is finalized for Thursday.”

  Eyebrows furrowed, Ethan looked from Leila to Amanda. “What’s the semester project?”

  “It’s just this sketch we have to do for Painting I.” Amanda began to back away. “Maybe we should go find Nikki?”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  Amanda strode toward the sofa, where she had spotted Nikki. Nikki’s other friend, Chloe, sat across from them, her legs propped up on the center table. She was in the middle of a conversation with a short, well-built man who sported a buzz cut and a dragon tattoo on his forearm.

  He stood and shook Ethan’s hand. “Ethan! How’s it going, man?”

  “Going great. This is Amanda, by the way. Amanda, this is Pete.”

  “As in ‘Little Pete’s.’” Chloe glanced up from checking her phone. “He’s the owner of this joint.”

  Pete nodded his head in Amanda’s direction. “Welcome to the club.”

  He was now the second person that night to welcome her to the “club,” whatever that meant. The others continued their conversations, but Amanda watched Chloe pass something to Nikki: a circular golden container, small enough to fit in one’s palm.

  “Ugh. I’m dying for one of these.” Nikki popped a small pill into her mouth and washed it down with a glass of wine.

  Amanda frowned. She leaned toward Nikki and spoke under her breath. “Nikki, what was that?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s a little something to get the creative juices flowing.” She reclined her head on the sofa and rolled it from side to side.

  Amanda took the container in her hands. It was filled with small white pills. Something told her they weren’t mints.

  “Go ahead, Amanda.” Chloe waved her on. “Leila brought them. It’s on us tonight, so help yourself.”

  “Thanks …” Amanda stared in horror at the pills in front of her. She was in a room full of drug addicts. She scooted closer to Nikki. “Nikki! What are these things?”

  “Hey, they don’t call it ‘Tripping Tuesday’ for nothing.”

  Amanda’s mouth dropped open. “That’s why everyone is here?” She turned to Ethan, sitting on her other side. “Do you … do this?”

  “I won’t tonight, but sometimes I do.”

  She continued to stare at him in disbelief, and he placed his arm around her.

  “Amanda, it’s okay. You’re just playing into all the fears other people have convinced you to believe.”

  “What do you mean? We’re talking about drugs! These things are illegal.” She placed the pillbox on the table.

  “Correction: this stuff was illegal.” Nikki picked up the box and handed it to Pete, who popped a pill. “Thanks to the NCP, we got a bill passed last month that made these fun little things legal. ’Cause, come on … we should have the freedom to choose what we want to take or not.”

  “Just think back to the way it used to be.” Ethan sat back and propped his right foot onto his left knee. “Adolescents in America were raised with the same blanket terminology: ‘don’t do drugs,’ ‘just say no,’ et cetera, et cetera. Why these prohibitions? It’s all because of some inept, daft people who abuse drugs. They’re irresponsible and end up doing something incredibly stupid or dangerous.”

  Nikki scowled. “The Unfit ruin everyone else’s fun.”

  “Then there are people like us.” Ethan gestured to the others in the room. “Do you see anyone out of control here? We use drugs for a specific purpose: to reach our greatest potential and to create a more powerful pie
ce of art. Most people use a drug to wake up in the morning. No one has a problem with that. People use drugs for a headache, for a stuffy nose, for all kinds of purposes. We use a drug to enhance our creativity. How is that criminal?”

  Amanda had always admired his perfect logic, but now she found it frustratingly simple. Surely, there was something more to it than that. But he was right: she looked around, and everyone appeared rational and self-controlled.

  Nikki sat up stiff, her voice sharp. “No one’s telling me what to do. This is my body; I can do what I want to. If people want to stuff their bodies with toxic substances … whatever. That’s their brainless decision. If we want to spark the artistic genius within us, why should someone stop us? It’s our freedom to choose. The NCP respects and upholds that right. Thanks to the assistance of this little pill, I’ve done some of my greatest work.”

  Amanda’s personal artistic experiences were already a surreal exploration, delving into the deep recesses of her being. What would it be like with some enhancement?

  She shook her head, dizzy from this unexpected news. “How do you know you won’t do something you’ll regret later?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Simple: I’m always in control. I never exceed my tolerance level, so the drug never takes over completely. We’re human beings: we have physical cravings that need to be satisfied. I listen to my body and its drives. I don’t let other people’s mistakes hold me back from the thrill of a liberating experience.”

  Nikki’s eyes were already becoming dilated, evidence that the drug was now flowing through her blood system. “Come on! You know you wanna.”

  Amanda swallowed. Was she conforming to messages drilled into her mind that weren’t even true? The allure of an artistic experience, heightened by this potent pill, felt tantalizing. Maybe Ethan was right. Perhaps taking one of the pills wouldn’t be so bad after all. Perhaps … It was a small, interior whisper of potentiality, of consideration. But not tonight.

  “No thanks.”

  “Well, you never know when you may need the help.” Ethan took a drink and set his beer down. “No pressure, of course. Perhaps you’ll find that you need the extra enhancement for your semester project.”

  So he wasn’t going to let that slide. “I never needed help before.” Amanda sighed. “But maybe this time I will.”

  “What’s the issue?”

  “We have to replicate a great work of art. My assignment … I’m just not comfortable with it.”

  “Too technically challenging?”

  “Something like that, yeah …”

  The rest of the evening passed without any further incidents. She was oddly at ease in this new group of strangers. Perhaps it was Ethan’s constant, reassuring presence by her side or the spontaneous kisses they shared as the night wore on.

  But eventually it was time to leave. Nikki didn’t need to hitch a ride; Chloe would take her home later. So Ethan and Amanda, hand in hand, walked toward the door.

  She again spotted the strange letters etched on the doorframe. She paused. “What’s that supposed to be?”

  “I think it’s called ‘room decor.’ Interior design isn’t my area of interest. Besides, we have business to take care of.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is a date, right?”

  “That’s true. We’d better get to work.”

  She followed him down the stairs and out to his car. He drove them back to her apartment, anticipation burning within her. After parking the car, he turned to her, unbuckling his seatbelt. She unbuckled hers, and then they said good night … a very slow, wonderful good night.

  Chapter Nine

  Familiar Stranger

  “I think you dropped this.”

  Amanda glanced up at the person speaking to her: a short, skinny man with black glasses. They were in the same sculpture class, which had just ended. Now she was hurrying to clean up her materials so she could see Ethan. But this guy stood in front of her, holding a piece of paper out to her.

  “Thanks.” She took the paper, which maybe had fallen out of her pocket or book bag, and started walking away. A few steps out of the classroom, it hit her: her painting class assignment. She removed the paper from her pocket and, unraveling it, read: Portrait of a Mother.

  Today was Wednesday. The assignment was to make a preliminary sketch of the master painting by tomorrow.

  “Hey!” Ethan stood in front of her, grinning. “How’s it going?”

  “Uh, pretty good, I guess. I just remembered that I have to do an assignment this afternoon.”

  “The sketch for Michael’s class?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. It’s the semester project, so it’s pretty important.”

  “I’d tag along to the Met with you, but I just got called into work for the rest of the day. There’s a special project they want everyone working on. That reminds me … are you still planning on coming to the big NCP rally tomorrow? I’d love for you to join us. It’s the perfect introduction to the party. What do you say?”

  “Besides Michael’s class in the morning, I should be free. So, yeah—I’ll come.”

  “Great! See you then.”

  They kissed and parted ways.

  Amanda buried her hands deep into her jeans pockets, her right hand clenching the slip of paper, and then began her trek to the Met. It was a beautiful day in the city. The sun shone above the skyline, light filtering down to the pedestrians below. White, fluffy clouds dotted the autumn day, and the crispness of fall was in the air. A horse and carriage trotted past her—a telltale sign that she was close to Central Park. A couple, riding inside the carriage, laughed together. Central Park would always remind her of Ethan now. Maybe, as long as she kept him in mind, this assignment wouldn’t be so difficult.

  The Met was a dominating building, the massive white structure easily noticeable. Its Romanesque style with tall columns was impressive. She reached the bottom step and looked up toward the entrance. Tourists milled around, taking pictures and reviewing their purchases from the gift shop. A small group of young adults passed her on the stairs, laughing and talking together. She, in contrast, had no one with her. Maybe she should have told Ethan about her mother. At least then she wouldn’t feel so alone.

  Taking a breath, she marched up the stairs, forcing herself to pass through the front door. She tried to buoy her spirit as she wandered the hallways searching for her destination: “European Paintings, 1250-1800.” She saw a sign for the Modern and Contemporary Art section and imagined Leila’s gloating face. Amanda had to do this assignment and do it well. She rounded a bend past the Greek and Roman art. There, just ahead, was the sign pointing to her section.

  A face passed her on the left, the image flickering ever so briefly in her peripheral vision. The sight, although brief, stopped her in her tracks. Stunned, she began weighing if her eyes had deceived her. Was it him? Or just someone who looked like him? He turned into the European Paintings exhibit and disappeared.

  She could let it go; she was probably mistaken anyway. Yet a feeling gnawed at her—she had to know. Without another second’s debate, she plunged into the crowd, hoping to spot the stranger who, perhaps, wasn’t quite a stranger. She passed through the entrance to pursue her target, ignoring the world-renowned paintings on the walls. She was gaining on him …

  “Sorry!” She collided with a school group, gathered in front of one of the Baroque paintings. She emerged from the ruckus, her objective that much farther away. Determined more than ever, she doubled her speed to just short of running. “Wait!”

  He didn’t seem to hear her calling, but a family a few feet away turned and stared at her. Thankfully, the person she pursued had slowed and was looking at one of the exhibits.

  She rushed upon him, his back to her. She grabbed his arm, simultaneously appalled at her own uncharacteristic forwardness even as she blurted out, “Hi!”

  He turned around, and for a split second, it seemed like she had the wrong person. Nausea arose w
ithin her. Had she done all this, only to find out that she had mistaken him for someone else? Then he fully faced her and she was certain.

  “I was right! It is you.” She smiled, relief wiping away any social conventions of introductions or explanations.

  He looked at her, smiling back.

  When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “I know you. I mean, we know each other. You probably think I’m crazy. … We’ve met before, right?”

  “Yes, we do know each other.” His voice sounded familiar. It brought memories of home with it.

  “Right. We went to Valor Academy together. We were in the same class. You helped me at our graduation—you rescued me. Do you remember?” If he were anything like her, the memory of their graduation was something he could never forget. Maybe the screams of those helpless victims haunted him too.

  “Yes, I remember it perfectly. You were there with your father and sister.”

  They began to stroll together through the exhibit.

  “Exactly!” she said.

  He looked the same as that May morning. His hair was combed across his forehead, not a strand out of place. His blue eyes were dazzling, so light in color that they appeared almost translucent. He even wore something similar to what he’d been wearing at graduation: brown khakis and a white dress shirt. No tie this time, however.

  “This is amazing. I mean, I just caught you out of the corner of my eye.” She stared at him, still in disbelief. “When did you come to the city?”

  “Very recently, actually. I’ve been here about two weeks now.” He was genteel in his manners, his voice soft and peaceful.

  “Yeah, me too—pretty much the same.” She paused, studying him. “It’s strange … I know I’ve seen you lots of times at Valor. But I can’t remember what class we took together.” She laughed. “Do we even know each other’s names?”

  “Well, you’re Amanda Burrow.”