by Jodie Kobe
chapter six
V I V I A N
All seven of us are seated at the long table.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but it's awkward in the silence.
Mr. Welds exchanges some smiles with us, but only half of us return them. I’m not one of them. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to notice Mr. Welds smiling at me.
“You all look nice today,” he says, looking around. Does it always feel this awkward? Could it possibly be this way because I’m here? “We have a new member with us. Her name is Vivian Clancy.”
Okay, here we go again. All of the heads turn my way.
Fox, the tall guy, speaks up. “Might as well introduce ourselves. I’m Fox, and I’m glad to have you here. I hope you feel welcomed.”
I nod toward him and the next person introduces themselves.
“I’m Laurey,” Laurey says, waving excitedly at me.
All the names are given to me. Jimmy is the dude with the black hair. He had been talking to Fox out in the hallway.
I try reciting all the names in my head. Rian, Laurey, Jimmy, Fox, Addison, and me. So six people have the tattoos on their hands. I wonder what that might mean.
Mr. Welds clears his throat. “Before we begin eating, do you have any questions, Vivian?”
Instantly, the question Rian told me not to ask pops into my head. Instead of asking that one, I say, “Why am I here, exactly?”
Mr. Welds lets out a short laugh, but I don’t see how that’s amusing. “Well, Ms. Clancy,” he begins. “People like being talked to, am I right?”
I shrug. “Not all.” I think of the people that go to their rooms during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some of those people don’t like being talked to.
Everyone at the table is staring at me as Mr. Welds speaks. “Yes, but meeting new friends and having conversations rises a person’s self-esteem. They are content and wouldn’t want to agitate anyone.”
“What about the rest of the people?” How come us six are the only ones?
Mr. Welds raises a surprised eyebrow. “I meet with others as well. We discuss plans.”
Why gather the people with the graffiti-ed hands into one group, though?
I nod in understanding although I need more questions answered.
“Anything else?”
I look down at the rectangular object I believe is silverware and pick it up. “How do you use this?”
Once I say it, laughter breaks out from the table. The dark mood lifts, but I feel my cheeks heat up.
Mr. Welds raises a hand and the laughter dies down. He doesn’t look irate though. He has a look of amusement on his face.
“Now, now,” he says. “Remember, you were clueless as well on your first day here. These new things weren’t familiar to you just as much as they’re not familiar to Vivian.” He picks up the silverware object and twists it gently with both hands, revealing what looks like a knife. He twists it again and it turns into a spoon. One more turn and it’s a fork now.
From where I’m sitting, it looks like magic. But I’m sure he’s just pulling an object out while pushing the previous one inside.
I try it myself. At first I don’t understand how I could find the end it opens on but slowly, I feel something turn.
“There we go,” the tall kid, Fox, says as I pull out a fork. He gives me a mocking round of applause but abruptly stops when Mr. Welds shoots him a look of disapproval.
“Shall we eat now?” Mr. Welds offers. He dips his fork into the bowl in front of him and pauses to look at us. “Well? Aren’t you going to eat?”
I look down at my bowl of food as soon everybody else does. It’s rice, but purple colored. “Why is it…?” I trail off and Fox finishes the sentence for me, his mouth stuffed with rice.
“Purple?” He has already started eating.
Laurey is next to try it. From the look on all of their faces, they’re surprised to see it too.
Mr. Welds swallows the rice politely before answering. “I wanted something light and not too fancy. I’m sure a day without pie and potatoes won’t be horrendous.”
A couple of people nod as they started eating as well. I watch all of them and take a small bite myself, remembering this food is completely man-made. It tastes the same way rice should taste like. I remember something like this in my earlier years.
“So how is it?” Mr. Welds asks after everyone has tried it. He’s looking at me specifically.
I shrug. “It tastes like rice, I guess.”
He nods. “That’s what we're aiming for. Once your system absorbs the ingredients, you should have a new feeling of confidence, lightness, and joy in the morning. It might not work on some people, but it will work on others. Give it a few more weeks and this rice will be a source of every vitamin you need for your body.”
A fork clatters onto the table and everyone turns to see who has dropped it. Fox. He’s slumped in his chair, relaxed. His hands are behind his head and a content smile is plastered on his face.
Mr. Welds’ sigh of disappointment doesn’t seem to bother Fox. He only sinks further into his seat.
“Fox, please behave yourself in front of our new guest,” Mr. Welds says, a cold tone seeping into his voice. “Don’t be rude.”
Fox just shrugs and gives me a quick glance. “You don’t mind do you?” he asks dully.
Honestly no, I don’t mind. He’s not bothering me, though I do wish he’d act nicer toward Mr. Welds.
I shake my head to answer his question. “I suggestion you ask the others.”
Fox looks around the table and everyone finally has their attention off of me.
“You guys mind me?” Fox motions to the whole table, waiting for them to answer.
Rian speaks first, an annoyed look on his face. “You should at least try to act better here. Once dinner’s over, you can go do whatever it is you like doing. Just don’t show it here.”
Fox straightens up and faces Rian with a smirk on his face. “Oh, look who’s talking! What’s up? Have you finally gathered the courage to spit that at me?”
Rian doesn’t say anything.
Is it always this weird during these meetings? Or is it just because I’m here? I want to leave.
Mr. Welds raises a hand again and I start to find those hand gestures really irritating even though this is the second time I’ve seen him do this. “Enough, Fox. You wouldn’t want to be locked up would you?”
Locked up?
Fox shakes his head and his face changes to a small smile. He looks polite now. “May I leave early?”
Mr. Welds shakes his head and continues eating. “No, you may not,” he says after swallowing.
After several seconds of forks clinking on bowls, Mr. Welds starts speaking again, addressing to Jimmy, one of the people at the table.
“So Jimmy, how’s your new job?”
Jimmy looks up and I can see he’s one of those quiet people who don’t really want to talk. “It’s fine.”
Mr. Welds nods. “What are some things you enjoy doing there?”
Jimmy shrugs. “All I do is carry boxes and mark them.”
“Ah,” Mr. Welds sets his fork down and straightens up. “Your task means so much more than just carrying boxes and marking them. Those items are crucial to us.”
“I understand, sir.”
Mr. Welds turns to Laurey, who has already finished her rice. He opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.
“Good rice, sir.”
Fox snorts and I’m the only one who turns to look at him.
Mr. Welds nods respectfully. “How is your job, Laurey?”
“It’s fascinating. I get to draw all sorts of interesting designs for this building. I’ve been rejected several times...but oh well.”
“How do you feel about these rejections?” Mr. Welds says eerily, folding his hands in front of him.
“I’ve gotten used to them.”
Mr. Welds goes on around the table, asking people random questions
about our dreams last night, what we want to do in the future. We eat and listen.
In the middle of our conversation, an extremely loud buzz shakes the whole room. It’s the same one I heard in the morning.
Everyone groans except me. I just cover my ears with my hands and wait. Mr. Welds sits there calmly without flinching as everyone else looks around and grimaces as the loud sound blasts through the room.
Once it stops, I notice Rian is staring at me. He gives me a small wave as I meet his gaze. I smile at him.
“What exactly does that mean?” I’m the first one to start talking, directing the question to Rian. “You didn’t tell me last time.”
Instead of answering, Rian lets Mr. Welds do it.
“It’s a warning alarm. You shouldn’t be too worried. It simply just tells us the radiation and gases are building up outside the Earth and they have reached a certain level.” Mr. Welds pulls out a piece of cloth I assume is a napkin and wipes his mouth with it.
“Isn’t that dangerous? If the level of radiation increases—”
I am cut off by Welds. “Ms. Clancy. You mustn’t worry. We have this under control. Besides—” he gives me an amused smile “—no one is ever planning on exiting this building.” I stay silent as Mr. Welds stands up. “I believe this is the end of this dinner. Do any of you have any new questions?” He directs his attention to me. “Vivian?”
I fiddle with my fingers under the table for a little, remembering the tattoo on my hand. That question. Why can’t I ask it?
There is silence in the room for a few seconds as I debate over my decision. Ask it or not?
Ah, screw this. “Mr. Welds, can I talk to you alone for a minute?” I say. “I have to ask you something.”
Mr. Weld nods and dismisses everyone with a wave of his hand.
“Go ahead,” he says after everyone has gone.
I hope Rian is waiting for me outside the door. I didn’t exactly memorize the way from my room to this place.
I’m still sitting in my regular seat and so is Mr. Welds. I bring my right hand up to indicate to the tattoo.
“Mr. Welds, what does this mean?” I try to sound as polite as possible so as to not anger him if this is a forbidden question. “I’ve been wondering for quite a while now.”
“Ah, of course. I’ve had questions like these before,” Mr. Welds starts. “Once again, you shouldn’t be too worried about them. Just know they are a type of classification, just like the number 42-2. We mark people a certain way for us to know which experiment is which. If you haven’t noticed yet, various people have other marks. Do you understand?”
I nod. “But all the people who you invited for dinner have the same thing I do. Why is that?”
Mr. Welds doesn’t seem to know how to reply to this. He waits for a few seconds in silence. When he speaks next, he doesn’t answer the question. “Ms. Clancy, if anyone mentions anything about these marks, tell them they shouldn’t ask about them. We won’t answer their question.” He stands up and motions to the door. “I will not answer your question, my apologies. Please escort yourself out the door.”
Even though I want to protest and inquire Mr. Welds about this, I obey. And to my relief, Rian is waiting for me outside the room.
“Oh, great. You didn’t leave,” I tell him. “I was going to force Mr. Welds to show me back to my room.”
Rian just laughs and starts walking. I trail after him.
The vast hallway looks dimmer than before.
“Did something happen?” I ask, spying a few people off in the distance. I assume they’re Fox, Laurey, Jimmy, and Addison. Apart from us six, the hallway is completely empty. How late is it?
“Nothing happened. They just dim the lights once it reaches a certain time.”
“How long were we there?”
“Two hours.”
“Two hours?”
“Yeah, how long did you think we were in there for?”
“Less than that.”
“That means you had fun.”
“Oh, trust me,” I say. “No, I didn’t. I actually want to go home.” I glance down at my dress. “And change out of this. Do I have to wear the same thing next time?”
“Next time might be a long ways away. You’re welcome to wear it around if you’d like. You don’t have to stick with just plain white.”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’d rather wear jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Same here,” Rian says, then adds quickly, “I like wearing regular jeans instead of the white ones they make me wear. I didn't mean dresses.”
For the rest of the way to my room, Rian tells me a few accidents that happened while he lived here. My eyelids get heavy, but I listen to his voice to keep myself awake. The moment he stops talking, I forget every he said.
Rian notices I'm fatigued once we reach the corridor with the thousands of bedroom doors on each wall. He leads me down the hallway, but before I can reach my door, he says, “You think you can manage to find your own way back from here?”
I nod. “I think so.”
Rian gives me a quick pat on the back and heads the same way we came from. I squint at him tiredly as I watch him go for a few seconds.
Then I make my way toward my room, trying to carefully focus on the names on the doors so I don’t miss mine accidentally. I find it, but slower than I want to.
My room’s temperature is higher than the one out in the hallway. I get conscious of how cold I am. Kicking off my shoes, I hop onto my bed and wrap the blanket around me, not bothering to change out of my dress. I’ll do it in the morning.
As I lay there, I expect sleep to come. It does not. Instead, I’m left staring at the ceiling for who knows how long.
