In Real Life

by Elisabeth Warner

  “Did you feel dizzy or short of breath when you fainted?”

  “Now that you mention it, I did have trouble breathing before it went dark.” My chest tightens as I relive the moment. The cold, sterile bed I’m in, along with the bodies that surround me, are suffocating. “I want to get out of here. Where am I? What’s—”

  A hand touches my forehead. The woman with the black hair leans over me. “Enough. You just need some rest. You’re suffering from a panic attack.”

  “How do you know?” I can’t stop shaking. The bright light on my face is overwhelming.

  “We’re running out of anxiety medication, but we can prescribe you some tea.”

  “Tea?”

  “Yeah. I think I have some chamomile.”

  “Go make her a cup, Blair,” the man says.

  “Right away, sir,” the woman replies, her feet stomping away from me.

  “What is your name?” the man asks, placing a cold cloth on my forehead.

  I flinch. “Lin.”

  “Lin, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Spark. I’m the community doctor.”

  Struggling to suck in air, I cough, but I can’t breathe properly unless I sit up. “What’s going on?”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “No. The guy who brought me here told me I can’t know.”

  “Okay, that’s a start. We call it the Community. We’re family here.”

  I pull at the restraints. “So what’s this about? Am I a threat to your so-called family?”

  “Just a safety precaution…for you.”

  Oh, I sure feel safe. “I’m thirsty. Can I have some water?”

  “My assistant is making you tea, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” My logic is faded, but I’m starting to get a grip on what’s happening now.

  Footsteps stomp behind me. “Here’s your tea.” A warm cup presses to my lips.

  I choke. “Can I sit up, please?” The restraints slip off my wrists, and the vice grip slips off my forehead. I grab the tea and lift myself from the table. At the sudden movement, my head starts to spin.

  “I told you. A safety precaution.” Spark takes the tea from my hands as I take the chance to look at him. He’s got white hair all over his face, even in his ears. He seems older than my parents, but not quite old enough to be my grandfather. He’s wearing a bright white coat, matching the sterile walls and floors.

  Focusing on him helps calm my dizziness. “I’m fine.”

  Blair sits next to me. “You’ll get used to it here. The world outside this room is nothing like this hospital. Hopefully you won’t be here that often.”

  “Well, I don’t even know where I am, so I have no expectations.” As I suck down the tea, a wave of nausea swells from my stomach through my mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

  Spark brings a silver bucket to my mouth, and I vomit into it.

  “Blair, get her some water. She might be dehydrated.”

  I open my eyes and notice Susan sitting in the corner. “You’re awfully quiet,” I say sarcastically.

  “I’m just letting the doctor do his job.”

  “Well, the guy who brought me here said you’ll take good care of me. I guess you’re off to a good start.”

  Susan softly giggles into her hand. “Why, thank you.”

  “We’ve got it from here, Susan. I know you have a busy afternoon.” Spark waves toward her, as if flicking her out the door.

  “My responsibility is to take Lin to her cabin. I’ll wait here until Lin’s cleared to go home.”

  Home? I’m not going home! I’m farther from home than I’ve ever been.

  Or am I?

  I furrow my eyebrows. “Is that tiny cabin really mine?”

  “Of course,” Susan says. “Your cabin is actually one of the biggest in the Community. Your sponsor bid a high price for your residence.”

  “My sponsor?” I scoff. “Please. He’s not my sponsor. I barely know the guy.” My jaw clenches. If I can’t say the name of my hacker, maybe I shouldn’t give any more information about him.

  “Well, he must be very generous, because your refrigerator is stocked with food and your furniture is brand new.”

  My shoulders shake as I hold back tears. I don’t know why I’m crying, but I know I want answers from someone I can trust.

  “Everyone’s first day is always hard, Lin. But you’ll get through this.” It’s as if Spark reads my mind as he puts his hand on my back. “We’ve all been where you are. Well, maybe not in a medical clinic, but we’ve come here scared, confused, and alone. But now, we’re a community.”

  Susan, Blair, and Spark say in unison, “We welcome you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In my cabin that is now my home, the smell of wood grounds me. My living room is fully furnished with a green sofa, two matching recliners and fluffy white carpet. The kitchen is small but functional. I barely know how to cook as it is. But maybe now I can learn with all the free time I have. I could also get used to the new amenities I have, such as running water and napkins, which I use to wash my hands as soon as I notice them.

  I walk toward the back of the cabin, where my bedroom is nestled in the corner, next to the bathroom. Shower. Instinctively, I shrug off the blood-stained T-shirt and sweaty shorts, the smell of death exuding from my body. Grabbing the first clothes I find in my duffle bag, I slip into the bathroom and turn on both the sink and the shower. I missed the sound of running water.

  The lukewarm stream in the shower runs down my body, removing all the filth from the last six months without the Internet. Has it really been that long? It doesn’t matter. My dry skin soaks up the moisture, drinking in new life. All the smells, all the dirt and grime, flush down the drain, along with my guilt.

  I lather myself with the shampoo, conditioner, and body soap that Don had stocked in the shower. As the water drips down my body, I exhale with satisfaction. Loose pieces of grass and dust wriggle out of my hair as I scrub my skull, the debris of my old life sprinkling onto the shower floor. I shake it all off, running my fingers through my clean, soaked strands.

  I wrap the towel hanging up on the wall around my wet, clean body. The mirror hanging up on the opposite wall shows me a reflection I haven’t seen since before the shutdown. I’m at least twenty pounds lighter, and the wrinkles under my eyes are noticeable without makeup, which I haven’t worn since the shutdown.

  Don’s right. I am dead.

  I get dressed and wrap the towel around my head to dry my hair. As I peek out my giant window in the living room, I notice that the sun is still up. Has all this happened today? After time standing still for two months straight, suddenly my life has picked up the pace. I’m trying to slow it down, but like before, I can’t grasp what day it is. I barely even know what time it is without Tobi.

  My aching body beckons me to sit on my new green sofa. I chuckle. Don did pick this place for me. I hate green.

  As my muscles settle into the soft cushions, I try to process my thoughts. Spark sent me back to my cabin to rest, but my mind can’t seem to settle. It’s like this whole situation is a puzzle, and I’m trying to put the pieces together to make one cohesive picture.

  Don is the missing piece.

  If Don is my hacker, if all of this was to prove that he still loved me, why didn’t he stay? What good is love if you can’t experience it with someone else?

  I close my eyes and imagine the way Don wrapped his arm around my waist, the way he looked at me when I woke up from my nightmare, the way he told me with such excitement about what he did to rescue me. Did I hear him choke up as he said goodbye to me?

  I wanted to believe that he still loved me, but I can’t see past what he’s done. My dream was more real to me than the conversation I had with him. I’ll never forgive him. My past may be over, but I can never forget.

  I hum, trying to push the memory of Don far away from me. But when the reality sinks in that I’m never going back to Brooklyn, that Dad has l
eft this world with hope in another, and Mom is in prison because of a bake sale, that the guy who cheated on me risked everything to give me a new life…

  The weight of the day finally breaks me. I fold my head into my hands and lean over my knees, letting the tears fall. The guttural groaning coming from the depths of my stomach to the edge of my lips is my expression of the emotions I don’t have the words to describe. How could I put what happened to me today into words? And for all I know, it might only be ten o’clock in the morning.

  As I lean into my hands, the tears subsiding, I think of Susan, Spark, and Blair. Susan’s sweet, but there’s something weird about Spark. Blair’s too quiet for me to judge her, but if she works for Spark, I don’t trust her. This whole place has a creepy vibe like I would find in a horror movie, where the whole community eats the brains of their victims.

  Community.

  Did Don send me here to die? I sit up and my muscles tense as I remember waking up to a grip around my head when I woke up. Did Susan drug me like Don did to help me sleep? Did they open my skull?

  I put my hands on my head and ran my fingers through my hair and onto my skull. No scars. But my headaches are gone.

  A knock interrupts my thoughts. I wipe my face with a napkin and open the front door. Susan beams excitedly at me, but her smile fades as she studies my face. “Oh, Lin. Are you all right?”

  Apparently, I hadn’t done a good job of cleaning myself. I pull the towel off my head and force a smile. “I’m fine. Just got out of the shower. What’s up?”

  “It’s time for dinner. We have a special meal for our new resident.” Susan raises and lowers her eyebrows. “I’m sure you’re hungry after traveling.”

  To prove her point, a growl erupts from my abdomen. I clench my waist, blushing.

  “Follow me.” She reaches out her hand to take mine, and I swiftly pull my arm out of reach. With thin lips, she leads me to the center of the Community, where a large group has already gathered for dinner.

  As we walk, I hear the chattering of some of the other Community members walking by. Did you hear about the new girl? Passed out right when she got here.”

  “Aw, poor thing. She must be so broken after all she’s been through.”

  Little do they know that I’m walking right next to them. How do they know what I’ve been through? This time, when Susan reaches out her hand to touch my shoulder, I don’t flinch.

  “Why are they talking about me like that?” I ask Susan, my hands clenched into fists.

  “You’re the latest news.”

  Her matter-of-fact answer silences me. On the journey down the hill, by the lake, I take in that statement. If these people are so isolated that the Liberty party doesn’t check up on them, they probably don’t get newspapers about current events happening throughout the country. The news they share is about each other.

  “Have you settled in?” Susan asks, startling me.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “Well, if you need to talk about why you were crying earlier, you could always pay me a visit.”

  I furrow my eyebrows. “Why do I need to tell you anything?” I ask defensively.

  “It’s not about needing to tell me anything. It’s so that you don’t have to carry the burden alone.”

  From the outside of the Community center, I could smell a delicacy I haven’t had since the shutdown. Fajitas. As I breathe in the scent, my mouth waters.

  Susan opens the door for me, and a small crowd welcomes me. I’m overwhelmed by all the eyes that are on me. “Everyone, this is Lin. Please make her feel like part of the Community.”

  As the people clap their hands and cheer, I take in the sight of each of them. Spark and Blair, I recognize. There’s a man with blue hair and a matching beard, a woman with dark skin and a rotund belly, a woman with long dark hair, a woman with her hair tied back in a red bow, the man and woman who were talking about me on the way here…

  But my mouth hangs open as my eyes fall on the last one in the room, the man preparing the food.

  Ace Elliot.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After wiping off his hands, he makes his way toward me. My surroundings fade as I focus on him. A celebrity. In real life. This can’t be happening!

  “Welcome to the Community, Lin. My name is—”

  “Ace, I’m such a big fan!” I hold my hands in front of me, the words of excitement gushing out of my mouth. “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

  He purses his lips and folds his arms. “How do you know my name?”

  “From your podcast! I was listening to you when the shutdown happened. Sorry to hear about your partner—”

  His hand slaps over my mouth, and he inches his face toward me, eyes glaring. The smell of taco seasoning on his clothes makes me dizzy. “Don’t you ever mention my ex-partner, especially in front of all these people.”

  His voice is a raspy whisper, unlike anything I’ve heard on his podcast. I gasp in horror as I realize that Brant could’ve been his hacker. Brant could’ve risked his life to save Ace’s.

  “Oh, my goodness,” I say, pulling away from him. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize—”

  “No, you didn’t. Mind your own business and keep your head down. You have a lot to learn about this place.”

  I straighten up and take my place next to Susan, feeling the heat of everyone’s stares. They must be loving this weeks’ worth of news material.

  “Let us take a moment to thank Ace for cooking this delicious meal for us,” Susan announces, eliciting another round of applause. “Since Lin is our newest member, she can eat first. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

  After my encounter with Ace, I feel like an outsider. The only connection I have to my past life here hates me now. Do I really have to spend the rest of my life in the middle of nowhere?

  Susan leads me toward the line of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and sauces, with a pile of tortillas at the front. “Take a scoopful of each, and when everyone else has had their turn, you can come up for seconds.” She hands me a plate and nods toward the front of the line.

  There’s an option of beef, chicken, or tofu. I decide to go with chicken, craving the familiar. Mom should be here. Why didn’t Don rescue her instead of me? After all, she did take his side during the divorce.

  Shaking the memory out of my head, I craft a similar fajita to what I last had with her: chicken with Colby jack cheese, roasted bell peppers, caramelized onions, sour cream, salsa, and guacamole, on top of a soft, corn tortilla. At the end of the line, I spot a drink I haven’t had since I was a kid. Root beer. Even though it doesn’t go with my chicken fajita, I hug the bottle close to my chest, as if clinging to my beloved past.

  My past might not matter anymore, but it’s still real to me. Sure, I want to forget the bad that I’ve done, but what about the good? Can I hold onto those memories of Dad reading me a story through his e-reader once a week, or Mom and I dancing to the upbeat songs playing from her phone?

  A wave in my direction catches my eye. The woman with long, dark hair pats the table. She’s sitting next to the woman with the round belly and the one with a red bow.

  “Hey!” The dark-haired woman shouts upon my arrival. “Welcome to the Community. Come take a seat.”

  I wordlessly slide my chair from out of under the table, the legs screeching loudly against the floor. All eyes are on me again. More blushing.

  “Don’t worry, Lin. We’ve all had first days here. Right ladies?” The other two women nod. “I’m Nelle, and this is Tee and June. We like to pray before our meals. Do you want to join us?”

  Pray. I didn’t know people still do that. “Sure.”

  Without warning, she takes one of my hands and links arms with the other ladies, creating a small circle. “God, thank You for this food. Thank You for our new friend, Lin. Thank You for keeping her safe on her journey to our Community. Thank You for our friendship. And thank You for the beautiful weather. Amen.
”

  There’s always a reason to be thankful. Was Dad teaching me how to pray?

  My hands are clammy as Nelle releases me from her grip. The other women say, “Amen,” in unison.

  I shove a bite of the fajita into my mouth. A burst of familiar, satisfying flavors erupts with my mouth, and I let out a satisfied groan. My first meal without canned beans and dried-out pasta. Within minutes, the fajita is gone, and I’m ready for a second. To pace myself, I chug on my root beer. Just as delicious as I remember it. But the carbonation fills my stomach with gas. Can I burp in front of these ladies?

  “So, how are you enjoying your first day?” The woman with the large belly, Tee, asks before shoving a forkful of food into her mouth.

  “I really like my cabin,” I say, trying not to belch in her face. Instead, I turn away and cover my mouth.

  “You do have a nice one,” Nelle says while scraping some rice off her plate. “Now our Community is complete.”

  “What do you mean?” As I look around, I notice that I’m the only one that has finished the plate of food. I awkwardly play with my root beer bottle.

  Tee swallows and continues. “We have ten cabins, and you’re filling the tenth cabin. I guess you’re the last one that the hackers sent to join us.”

  “The hackers? They’re all working together?”

  Nelle nods while chewing. “Yeah, from all over the country. They each bid on a house for the person they wanted to save.”

  I feel a tug in my chest. Something doesn’t seem right. I discreetly look around the room and count.

  There are eleven people here.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Back in my cabin, with the sun finally setting, I decide to unpack. The contents don’t surprise me, but the smell of Mom’s perfume on my clothes ties a knot in my stomach. It’s familiar but distant, so the coziness I would normally feel from the memory of her seems like nails on a chalkboard to me. Thus, the tension between my old and new life.