“Right,” Robert nods, “Even though we seem real enough to each other, the most reasonable and logical conclusion is that we don’t exist at all. Maybe we have emotions and thoughts, but every indication is that we are just characters in a book. The Author can kill us in the story, but he can’t really kill us because we aren’t alive to begin with. We are just characters Melanie. That is most likely.” Robert braces himself for the storm that he knows is about to ensue.
“Shut up! Stop it!” Melanie screams. She has lost her patience, “Maybe you aren’t sure if you exist, but I know I do! This conversation is pointless. Trying to find meaning in our lives. Why debate whether we are alive or not? We are just talking in circles anyways. If we aren’t alive, worrying isn’t going to help the situation, and if we are alive then we have better things to do.” Melanie wonders if Robert is coming up with his ideas himself or if it is really the Author speaking to her. What if Robert is the Author, and she is alone in this story?
“Oh really?” Robert smiles, “What else exactly do we have to do? We are stuck in this empty white room, and you can see as well as I can that there is no entrance or exit. From what I can see, we may very well be sitting inside a piece of paper right now. Or perhaps we exist within a computer. Or perhaps this is the interior of the Author’s brain.”
“Well,” Melanie asks boldly, “if we are just going to spend our existence inside a white box, what is the purpose of this story at all?” Melanie suddenly feels tired of arguing. She just wants to rest.
“Perhaps it is just a philosophical question. A bit of introspective thinking.” Robert sees the expression on Melanie’s face and can tell that she is no longer angry but merely annoyed. She is one of those people who angers easily but does not stay angry for long.
Melanie laughs scornfully, “Well just listen to Socrates over here. You have an answer to everything don’t you? So you think we are just tools? Tools to help the Author decide what is right and wrong or whether right and wrong even exists in literature the same way as the real world? Or maybe you think we are even less than that. Just some low form of entertainment.” Robert has a sudden urge to say something rude to Melanie but suppresses it. That will not help the situation.
Robert smiles faintly, “Please Melanie, calm down. Being angry or scornful can in no way improve our lot in life. If the Author truly is in control, it behooves us to be patient and kind with him. If he grows to like us, then perhaps he will be patient and kind to us in turn. And if the Author is not truly in control, then getting angry still won’t help. I was not trying to start an argument, I just wanted to look at the situation objectively. I think the best thing to do is to just wait and see what happens.” Robert again looks at the brass watch on Melanie’s wrist and notes that is is not ticking. Then he notices that the hands of the watch are missing.
Melanie snorts with a little “Hmph!” Then she says, “If you want to be apathetic that is your business. I am not satisfied with being somebody’s pawn, and even if there is an Author of this story, I will not willingly submit to his whims. I have my own free will, and I will do as I like. I will even resist the Author! I will fight him and kill him if necessary, but I will not let him dictate my life for me. I am my own person!” Robert knows that Melanie means what she says, and for some reason it greatly saddens him. He wishes she didn’t say that.
Robert looks distressed and glances around worriedly as though the Author may overhear them. Melanie continues, “As a matter of fact, I do not believe the Author exists. I know we thought we had that knowledge when we first gained consciousness in this room, but that doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps we were drugged by someone and transported here. Maybe we were brainwashed or hypnotized. How do we know we aren’t just daydreamers?” Robert notices that there are three shadows on the ground. One shadow is from him and another is cast from Melanie. Maybe the third is cast from the table, but he can’t tell.
“Please Melanie,” Robert implores, “Calm down. I can tell you’re upset. And please don’t say those awful things. I know you don’t really want to kill or fight the Author.” Of course, Robert is not really concerned that Melanie might kill the Author but rather that the Author might kill them. Yet he somehow feels confident that everything is safe, at least for the time being. There may be a time for them to die, but the time is not now.
“Oh don’t I?” Melanie laughs, “ You really are on his side aren’t you? You don’t seem to have a problem with the Author killing us, but when I mention killing him it’s a travesty is it? What is wrong with you?” Melanie wants to punch Robert in the nose but refrains from doing so.
“No Melanie, it’s not like that. It’s just. It’s just, well...” Robert stammers and stops for a moment. “Can’t you see Melanie?” Robert is certain that Melanie can’t see; he is not quite sure what he is trying to say himself.
“See what, Robert? No I can’t see, and I don’t agree. Why are we cooped up in this room blabbering in circles anyways. I’m ready for something to happen. If the Author really is writing this shouldn’t he save his introspections for later and get on with the story?” Melanie feels claustrophobic and desperately wants to run away from the cell they are in. She feels trapped, and there is no way out.
“Well, it would be nice to get out of this boring white room,” Robert agrees doubtfully. “I suppose that even if our existence is paradox, just discussing it won’t change anything.” Robert thinks of how nice it would be to walk outside in the moonlight. Holding Melanie’s hand. Suddenly Robert has an urge to kiss Melanie. On the cheek. If only they could leave this room everything would be different. Robert does not know why, but he suddenly realizes that he loves Melanie. He wants to go on an adventure with her. He finds it invigoratingly exciting to be in a story. Anything is possible. He just wishes that Melanie could see that. If they could only get out of this room, Robert knows that he could show Melanie how things really are. Everything would be different.
Then, on the far side of the room, a door appears. A white door.
Robert and Melanie stare at the white door that has suddenly appeared in the room in which they are standing. A moment before, the two people’s universe had been confined to the white cell that the Author created for them, but now there is a door that represents hope, life, and infinite potential for them.
Robert smiles at his companion, “Shall we go?” he asks.
Melanie stares back at him, but there is no hint of a smile on her face, “So just like that, you are willing to walk through the door?”
Robert shrugs, “Why not?” The Author obviously created this door; why would he do so if he didn’t want us to go through it?”
Melanie sneers, “So we are to go through the door just because the Author wants us to? Why should we bend to the Author’s whims? Besides that, who knows what lies outside that door?
Robert shakes his head, “Melanie, stop being so stubborn. While we had no way out, we both knew we wanted to leave this room. How can you be so determined to stay in it now? Do you just have a desire for conflict with the Author?”
“Conflict with the Author?” Melanie laughs without humor, “Do you not see the irony in that? Just a moment ago you were chastising me for changing my mind about the door, but earlier you believed the Author may be controlling our actions. Now if the Author wishes me to say these things then I am not conflicting him but doing what he wills. Actually, if the Author controls our actions then it doesn’t matter what I do; even if I conflict him, it will just be because he wants me to.”
“If the Author wishes you to conflict him and disobey his will,” Robert observes thoughtfully, “then we may find ourselves in quite an unpleasant situation. At the very least, for now, we should go through the door.”
“Fine,” Melanie concedes grumpily. Taking the lead, she puts her small, delicate hand on the smooth, white door and pushes.
The door swings open freely, and Melanie and Robert are greeted by more whiteness. A hallway stretches out into t
he distance in both directions, and the floor and ceiling are the same as that of the cell in which Robert and Melanie have been trapped. All along the hallway, at regular intervals, are more doors.
“Now what?” the girl asks tiredly.
With only a moment’s pause, Robert replies, “Well first lets see what is on the other side of these doors.” It annoys Melanie that she can detect a note of enthusiasm or excitement in his voice.
Robert pushes open the door directly in front of him, pauses a moment, and then opens the door that is to his left. This time he stares for a full thirty seconds before opening the next door to the right of him. After that, he almost frantically starts pushing open one door after another, but it’s all the same; each door opens up to an indefinitely long white hallway lined with countless white doors.
“Interesting isn’t it?” Melanie asks snidely. Robert gives her an angry stare then starts pushing open doors lining one of the corridors. Each door opens to reveal yet another hallway. Then he starts walking down hallways, turning into new ones at random. There are countless doors, and behind each one is a seemingly infinitely long hallway of more doors. Melanie follows, without enthusiasm, a short distance behind.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Robert declares at last, “I think we are in a maze!”
“No kidding Sherlock?”
Robert whirls angrily at Melanie, “That’s right, I’m not kidding. This situation is stressful enough without your insults.”
Melanie is taken aback, “Whoa there, calm down. Take a chill pill dude.”
Robert glares at her, “So what do you want to do Melanie?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know. Talk to the Author maybe. Tell him what a jerk he is. And while I’m at it I might just throw in that you’re not the best companion either.”
Robert stares at her and finds himself wishing that he was with someone else. Neither he nor Melanie have any obligations nor even instructions; they are free to explore and do as they wish. Yet all she does is complain.
Suddenly a whimsical idea comes to Robert. He starts walking down a hallway, and Melanie follows; without warning or hesitation, he stops, turns, and gives Melanie a playful peck on the cheek.
She pushes him so hard that he falls, “What was that for?” she asks angrily but not coldly.
“I thought you could use a little cheering up.”
“I don’t need any cheering up.” Even so, Robert thinks she seems a little pleased. Could just be his imagination. Then they continue walking.
After walking through many more doors and hallways, they finally see something different. The pair stops, and both gaze at the red door. “What do you think?” Robert asks.
“What do you think about what?” Melanie asks back curtly.
“Should we go in?”
“What kind of question is that? Are you going to pass up an opportunity for change? Do you want to wander these halls forever?”
Robert looks embarrassed, “Actually I thought we should go through; I just wanted to make sure that it was okay with you first before we went in.”
Melanie grows quiet. Then, “Well, we should be careful. We don’t know what might be behind that door.”
Robert does not respond; instead he pushes open the door and walks through it. They find themselves in a room with four red walls, a red ceiling, and a red floor, but a different colored door on each wall. The room is not long like the hallways but is rather a small closet-like cube. There is a red door, a white door, a black door, and a blue door.
He opens each of the four doors. He is not particularly surprised to see a red hallway behind the red door, a blue hallway behind the blue door, a black hallway behind the black door, and a white hallway behind the white door.
Robert looks at Melanie but does not say anything to her; perhaps he has learned better. Melanie longs to say something but does not wish to break the silence when it seems obvious to her that Robert is intentionally not speaking to her. She watches in silence as Robert walks a little ways down each hallway opening several doors in each one. Then Robert returns to the red room. Melanie sees him about to speak, and she grows a little excited, but Robert asks, “Okay Author, I don’t know. Which hallway should I go down?” There is no response. Melanie says nothing but snorts.
Robert turns to her again, “Any thoughts?”
Melanie smiles a wide, broad grin, “I thought you weren’t speaking to me,” she remarks in a leering voice.
“I never said that.”
Melanie’s grin fades; then it falls flat. “Anyways,” Robert repeats, “any thoughts?”
“Do you have any?” she asks suspiciously.
Robert is silent for a moment, “I don’t think we should go down the red or white hallways.”
“Why is that?”
“Well we have been walking down the white hallways since we started, and they seem to mostly just lead to other white hallways. We have only been in one red room, but it seems to be a sort of hub to other kinds of hallways. I think we should see what a blue or black hallway leads to.”
Melanie can think of several arguments to Robert’s logic. For one thing, one of the white hallways led to this red room so maybe other white hallways would lead to variety of different destinations. For another thing, a red room being hub did not seem like a bad thing. It might be good to look at other options. However, she doesn’t say this, but simply shrugs, “If you say so.”
Robert enters the blue hallway lined with blue doors. The blue isn’t a light blue or a dark blue but just a very plain bland blue. “What are you trying to do?” Robert asks the Author quietly. He does not really expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one, not even a sarcastic response from Melanie although she certainly heard him.
The pair walks through several other blue hallways and doors, and both people silently begin to wonder if the blue hallways will turn out to be the same as the white ones when one of the doors opens to reveal a golden room.
The golden room is not just gold-colored, but is actually made of pure gold. In the center of the room is a golden chair upon which is sitting a girl in a dress made of woven gold cloth. She is younger than Robert and Melanie but not much younger. Her skin is very fair and pale, her eyes are a bright diamond blue that shimmers like glass, and her hair is a light blonde that seems to glow like sunlight.
Melanie and Robert have never seen her before yet after a moment they know that the girl’s name is Perl, and at the same instant Perl knows the names of Robert and Melanie. That knowledge does not descend upon the three people like a revelation; rather it is more like remembering the name of long forgotten acquaintances when seeing them again.
When she sees Melanie and Robert, Perl stands and smiles with a flashing mouth of pearly white teeth, “Hello,” she says in a soft gentle voice that is sweet like honey. Melanie smiles but says nothing.
“Nice to meet you,” Robert replies, “How do you do?”
“I am quite well thank you; how are you?”
Robert notes her bare feet, “I am alright I guess, but I am a little lost and confused.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Perl responds kindly, “You are confused about the Author and this maze I suppose?”
“That is right,” Robert nods, “Did the Author send you to answer our questions?” he adds hopefully.
Perl’s cheerful smile turns dubious, “I’m not sure,” she admits reluctantly. “I’m not too sure about anything to be honest.”
Melanie rolls her eyes, “A lot of good this girl is going to do us,” she says blandly.
“I’m sorry,” Perl apologizes blushing, “I really don’t know anything. I don’t remember any past; when I gained consciousness I was sitting here, and then you came in. I know your names, I know how to speak, and I know the Author put me here. That is all.”
“Do you know whether you are alive?” Melanie quips.
Perl has to think for a few seconds, “No, actually I’m not sure, but I think I am.”
> “Useless,” Melanie mutters.
Robert stares coldly at Melanie, “It’s alright Perl; we came to be here much like yourself. We don’t know anything either. We are not sure how we got here or where we are headed, but we seem to be in a maze, and we are finding our way through it the best we can. Would you like to join us?”
Perl smiles joyfully, “Why I would love to,” then looking at the stern-faced Melanie, “if it’s alright with Melanie that is,” she adds abashedly.
“Oh she doesn’t mind. Do you Melanie?” something in Robert’s voice tells Melanie that now isn’t the time to argue with him.
“No, I would love to have you along,” Melanie says in a voice that sounds somewhat sincere.
The Author: Within the Labyrinth Page 2
