by Nelly Asher
***
Silver stood dumbfounded, staring at the still surface. She's not the best swimmer, but she can't just leave him drown like that! Selena almost gathered enough will to dive when suddenly something clanked behind the walls. Fluid rushed down, revealing a mesh grate with Kevin's lifeless body lying there like a broken doll.
The girl looked down hesitantly. Like it wasn't enough that the distance is a couple of meters, the mesh was so large that one could stick their fist into it – if she jumps, she'll certainly twist or break something! After some consideration, Selena lied down flat on her belly, clumsily slided down and hanged on the ledge. It's good that she almost never ditched the physical education classes in the university... There were less than forty santimeters separating her feet from the grate, so the girl couldn't understand why she's clinging so hard like there's an abyss beneath her. Silver unclasped her hands with an effort of will, dropped down, miraculously keeping her balance. Hobbled towards Kevin, cursing the grate holes that her heels were constantly getting into and trying to recall the artificial ventilation techniques that were taught to them in SE classes. She crouched down near Kevin and breathed some air into his mouth. The moment she did it, he twiched and doubled up, coughing severely.
“How do you feel?” Silver asked. Evanford gave her a gloomy look, trying to figure out what the hell he just saw. Did all of this run before his eyes when Selena was touching him? That episode was somewhat erotic... He never had any thoughts like that regarding his acquaintance, especially not in a moment like that. And why did everything seem so real, so tangible?
“Terrible,” he spat into the grate, getting rid not only from the liquid, but also from a weird aftertaste on his lips. “And what is this?” he nodded at the grate. “There used to be a floor here... Or else would I dive into this sewage to get the key?”
“That's it. We're stuck in this waste hole,” Selena exclaimed in a doomed voice. There were noone around but Evanford and a ghost of starvation – so, noone to mind her language for.
“I disagree with this statement,” Kevin sat upright with an effort. “We aren't completely stuck. At least this grate is moving up.”
Selena looked around. Indeed, the parquet ledges were gradually getting closer. A pair stood on their feet, balancing on the slippery iron, and went to the door they no longer had a chance to open. Selena climbed the parquet and slightly pulled the door handle, not expecting anything. To their great astonishment, it gave in and opened.
For a moment, it crossed Kevin's mind that the girl has played a nasty trick on him and the door was open from the very beginning, but he immediately dismissed that thought. First of all, even though she's far from the most intelligent person he knows, she won't do something that stupid. Second of all, he went to get the key at his own will, without anyone asking. And either way...
“There's no keyhole,” he pointed out.
“Should we have just waited again?” Silver moaned. “But what was that key for, then?”
Kevin shrugged. Rhetorical questions were bothering him way less than the sticky fluid that already began to dry, turning into crust. Leaving through the same door they entered to get into the psychiatrist's office, professor's heirs found themselves in a familiar building. But this didn't bring much joy – both of them wanted to get away as soon as possible, never to come back again. They almost sprinted to the exit, hoping that noone will intercept because of what Evanford looked like. On the street, Kevin headed to where he parked his car, but froze in bewilderment – the spot where he left it was empty.
“My car is gone,” fury was brewing in Evanford's usually calm voice.
“Are you sure you've...” she abruptly stopped, seeing the look on his face. “Never mind, we'll deal with it later. First, we should go home and have a shower. Let's take a cab.”
“I've got nothing to pay for it,” her companion said through gritted teeth. Contents of his pockets were good for nothing. Credit card could be cleaned up, but how is he supposed to do it right now?
“That's ok, it's on me,” Selena waved her hand.
“I'll repay later...”
“Don't. After all, I owe you,” she muttered, looking aside.
Silver had enough cash in her wallet for a regular ride, but it won't be enough to convince anyone let someone that filthy in their car. She withdrew some money from a nearby ATM, headed to the road and waved to a taxi that was driving by. Driver smiled at a beautiful girl, bu when the second passenger approached, the smile faded from his face.
“Here's for covering the cleaning expenses,” she gave him a hundred grun bill, trying to act naturally. “I'll give you another one when we get there. Our friends... are taking practical jokes too far sometimes,” Selena nervously grinned. She sat beside the driver, quietly told him the address and was chatting with him along the way, trying to distract from the man on the back seat.
“Where are we heading?” Evanford spoke when he completely stopped recognizing the streets they were driving.
“As I said – home,” Selena smiled. Soon they stopped before one of the gray ten-storey apartment buildings. At home, Silver exhaled in relief and fell on the couch.
“All right, all right, you can go first,” she waved in the direction of the bathroom. Once there, Evanford wanted to lock the door, but the bolt was broken. He turned around to see that the plastic shower curtain is almost transparent.
“Now that's some VIP-level privacy,” Kevin muttered under his breath. But it's not like there was any choice. He put his clothes into the laundry basket, adjusted the water and stepped into the bath.
Selena would've rested for a while, vacantly staring at the wall, but felt terribly thirsty. The sun was in zenith and burned unmercifully. It's hard to believe that it's just noon – it seemed like three days have passed, no less... This thought freaked her out for a moment, but today's date on the electronic clock was reassuring. Silver went to the kitchen to drink some water. It was relieving, but didn't really save from the heat. Feeling a strong urge to take a shower, the girl headed to the bathroom, completely forgetting that someone's in there – even the sound of running water didn't tip her off. She realized her mistake only after opening the door.
“Oh damn! Sorry,” confused, Selena slammed the door so hard that it bounced back, leaving a gap.
“I knew it,” Evanford sneered.
“Like I did it on purpose! Who needs your bones!” Selena scoffed. This shwuggering shmug... She recalled her resolution to be nicer to him. An episode in the flooded room flashed before her eyes. After some hesitation Silver spoke: “Actually, well... Thank you for not letting me fall into that sewage.”
“Water's running, remember? I can't hear you,” Kevin replied.
“I'm saying, thank you!” Selena shouted.
“Don't mention it,” he turned the water down a bit. Professor's nephew didn't like talking at high pitch. “I should also express my gratitude... Most probably, it was your intervention that didn't let me die,” saying that, Evanford felt something tingling inside. Like a long-lost feeling... Or a memory.
“Yeah, it's also nothing to mention,” Selena responded sarcastically. Now, when there's no serious danger, she can let herself get offended at his indifference.
“Well sure, your clean dress is more important than my life,” Kevin blurted out, to his own surprise. For many years he didn't react to any taunts or jeers, especially that trifling... But now, for some reason, when she hinted at the uselessness of his live, Evanford suddenly felt affected. This sore spot has suddenly appeared out of nowhere seconds ago, so he didn't have time to analyze and deal with it, along with all other feelings that were seizing him. He decided to wait a bit and observe this sensation.
“I think it's actually the opposite!” Selena bursted. “You're the one thinking that nobody's life is worth your single hair, nobody's full brain is worth ten grams of yours, nobody's heart is worth your spittle!”
“I wonder if I'm making this im
pression on everyone?” Evanford responded coldly, surprised that he was engaged into such a lowbrow argument. “Or are you saying that because I don't throw myself at your feet like those herds of admirers that you've got used to? Or are you irritated at my thinking that smarts lead to success, not looks? And that success has to be earned by hard work, not by batting your eyelashes at someone who can do the work for you?”
Selena wanted to curse, but her tongue wouldn't obey her. Nervous tension that was accumulating during the day has reached its peak. Body shaking, eyes filling with tears, she became weak in the knees. Silver leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor.
“You... You have no idea,” her voice, quiet at first, grew louder, almost turning into scream. “Do you think I've been like that for my whole life?! When I was twelve, I got badly sick... And you know how long did treatment take, all those procedures that make your guts turn inside out? Two years! Two freaking years!” Selena hit the door with her clenched fist. Now she couldn't stop neither the tears flowing from her eyes nor the words flowing from her mouth. “For all this time, doctors were concerned for my life... But I was almost dreaming of dying! Even when I was discharged from the hospital, I couldn't recover for a long time and was looking and feeling like a zombie. I've got no friends left – kids I used to hang out with moved on long ago, and I wasn't making any new pals at the hospital... While everyone else was living through their puberty, hormones bustling and all, I knew nothing but antibiotics! Like a dead fish on the shore – ugly, lonely, detached from life... Do you think everyone was running to me with their friendly support? Yeah, like hell! Everyone was staying away from me like I was still contagious, and brattier ones were laughing at me and my looks into my face! Back then, how I'd wish to have a gun in my hand...” she clenched her right hand in a fist and stretched the pointing finger out. “You can't explain anything to those people, so maybe the bullet will be an argument! Let's see how you fight when you have to press your hand over the wound? How will you chuckle and swear when half of your face is missing? Because of all this, my self-esteem was crappy, even though I looked way better than before. At sixteen, I started dating and slept with a guy half of the school had a crush on. This jerk called himself 'the first man on the Moon'... I wanted to kill him! But it opened my eyes – I realized that I'm worthy of something way better... I began to study hard, so that I could enter some good university, and eventually passed the exams to Texven State University! They say people are studying on psychology department to understand themselves better... In my case, it's true.
The girl fell silent, realizing that, for a long time now, she's talking to herself, saying too much at that. Selena got up and nervously knocked the door:
“Hey, are you listening to me? what do you think about me now that I've spilled everything?”
Kevin felt that if he won't say anything, she'll run into the bahroom, demanding an answer.
“I sympathize with you,” he responded. Indeed, her words didn't leave him completely indifferent. Even if he wanted to, Evanford couldn't imagine what she's been through... And that she had frightening thoughts like that. Or maybe she still has them? So, dealing with her is not only psychologically wearing, but dangerous as well... “The one who stepped over all the tribulations, who has not only their body, but also their mind completely recovered, is worthy of respect. You've managed to do it, I hope?”
“I guess,” Selena replied after a pause. The girl already calmed down a bit, so she wanted to change the subject. “Anyway, don't mind what I said. Past will stay in the past. And what about the nearest future? What are you going to put on now?”
“Maybe you have some clothes of you pals by chance? Or perhaps you'll donate some long coat of yours, at least? And some slippers – just to get to the cab,” he'll look ridiculous, but Kevin couldn't care less – it's impossible leave this apartment looking worse than when he entered it. Theoretically, he can ask someone to bring him clothes, but Evanford didn't have any friends close enough to ask for something like that.
“It's not like I have men coming over that often, but even if I did, I doubt any of them would have had your body type,” the girl said. “I'd rather just go and buy you some clothes and shoes, there's a shop just around the corner. Consider it an advance – who knows, maybe one day you'll get me out of a tough spot again.”
“The last thing I need is you making advances at me,” he replied dryly.
“Nice flirting with ya,” Selena grinned. She could appreciate a good retort when she heard one. “So anyway, tell me your sizes, just let me grab a pen...”
Kevin reluctantly complied. Sure, it won't be that bad if he gets some clothes, but there's a little chance that it'll be something he likes. For the umpteenth time today, he had to pick the least worst option.
Silver decided to leave the bag at home and take a smaller purse she used to carry. The bag is quite inconvenient, and besides, there will be all those little things in the shop... It's better to be on the safe side. Selena took a wallet out of the bag, put it into her purse and went shopping.
After thoroughly washing himself, Kevin wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled his credit cards and keys to his house and car. He might need them – there's still hope that Pinton will be found. Evanford cleaned his posessions and left the bathroom. Now he can finally look around and see where ill fate has brought him. To be fair, appartment looked tidy, though poorly furnished: there were no paintings, flowers or other decorative elements, just a wardrobe, a couple of chairs and a couch. And what's there, a bag? Selena must've decided to drop the extra weight... The book is probably there. Leaving “The Door” in his reach is somewhat uncautious of her – though indeed, it's not like he was going to grab it and run away. Kevin didn't want to read it, but examining it might reveal something – an object that posesses such extraordinary qualities must have some features that stand out.
Of course, rummaging through others' belongings is wrong, but the book partly belongs to him, so he has a right to take it. When Evanford opened the bag, something caught his eye. What is a fork doing here? Elegant, with an ornate handle. Such a fine cutlery isn't used in everyday life – except for maybe in restraunts or some elite houses, or put on the table in regular families when some important guests are coming over. Why would she need it? Combined with Selena's recent story, assumptions were ranging from bad to worst. Putting the book aside, Kevin decided to examine another source of danger.
Not concerned with privacy any more, he took all contents out of the bag. Some objects were quite mundane – make-up, pager, a notebook and three pens; others were puzzling. Evanford didn't see those pictures before. So, they've managed to take a picture of a man in the black room? He should memorize this face. A clover-shaped keychain left from his uncle. A coarsely made wooden bunny figurine – one of those freaky cheap ones. It seemed to him that Selena knows better than buying something like that. But she obviously had this bunny for a while – it looks frayed, the paint is cracking. Maybe there are some sentimental memories connected to it, or is it something like a charm? Though, judging by her appartment, this girl wasn't a fan of knick-knacks... He couldn't explain the origins of the bunny based on what he knew about her so far. A trivial figurine has shed light on the side of her personality he had no idea about... And that could hold virtually anything.
The last item was the calendar from psychiatrist's office. The date grid side wasn't of any interest – just a usual calendar for the current year, 2001, weekends and holidays are highlighted. There's a name and a job title of Jeremy, though without any contact information. After glancing at this side briefly, Kevin turned the calendar over and started to examine the list of phobias.
Acrophobia – fear of heights.
Autophobia – of loneliness.
Claustrophobia – of closed spaces.
Erotophobia – fear of sex and of talking about it.
Heliophobia – avoiding the sunrays.
Hemophobia �
�� fear of blood.
Hoplophobia – fear of weapons, firearms in particular.
Mysophobia – of microbes and dirt.
Nyctophobia – of darkness.
Panphobia – fear of everything.
Pyrophobia – fear of fire.
Sociophobia – fear of other people and their possible judgement.
Trypanophobia – fear of injections.
Evanford saw most of the titles for the first time, thought he certainly knew about the phobias themselves. Those aren's some peculiar fears that are a humiliating to even admit – like fear of bare knees, of the color blue, of the number 28... Or fear of doors, for that matter. Most probably, there was a reason those phobias were presented here, but Kevin didn't see any logic. Evanford went through the list a few times, almost learning it by heart, then put all things back into the bag.
He examined the book once again. At least its outside appearance remained the same: hard cover with a print or finished wood – an illustration of the title. There was a metal plate on it, featuring the author's name at the top: Haurot Sputkee. Beneath it, in a larger font: “The Door”. There were no inscriptions on the back. A commercial publishing house wouldn't agree to something like that. Yet another proof of “The Door” being customly published, adhering to client's requirements, maybe even being the only copy. The question is, who could've made a book that constantly changes its contents? Kevin felt like he'll see the answer if he'll read it right now. After some consideration, Evanford put the book back where he took it from and closed the bag. It's not a question he would take risk for. Though such questions have already started to occur.
