What was that? A knock? Again! Someone was coming in. I was…could I be…was I…free?
“I’m coming. Hang on!”
I switched the tap off, wrapped a towel around my waist and threw a shirt over my head. I’d worry about getting dressed properly later. I was too excited. Either my time was up and I’d somehow gotten it all wrong, or they’d come to tell me something else. Was it bad? Excitement soon moved to panic, and I flung the curtain with an alacrity I hadn’t had since being in here. I expected the door to be open, or for someone—maybe Larry—to be standing inside with a big grin. There was nobody there. I reached for the door handle and pulled, but it remained shut. I frowned. I’d heard someone come in. I was sure of it.
“La…Larry?” I called out tentatively. “Did you knock? I’m…uh, I’m out of the shower now.”
Nothing.
I must’ve imagined it. Obviously. The place was too small for someone to be hiding in it. I stood for several seconds, trying to figure out whether I had really heard someone come in. The more I thought about it, the hazier the memory became, until I was sure I had simply conjured it up. Maybe the shower pipes were creaky. Perhaps my mind was creaky. I was still dripping water, and I hadn’t yet rinsed off the shampoo. I headed back to the shower but waited for a while before turning the water on again. Creaky pipes. That was probably what had happened. Maybe Keri was showering too. Maybe Keri, Melanie and I had all turned on the shower at the same time. Perhaps all I had heard was some cross connection somewhere. I was not very ‘hands-on’ so I couldn’t be sure if this was possible, but it seemed feasible. I waited, just to give the girls time to finish up. I counted to sixty, then tried to do it again and lost count. My mind was frazzled. When I was sure about five minutes had gone by, I continued with my shower, making sure to scrub off the rest of the sticky shampoo. The gooey mixture reminded me a bit of blood, and the thought brought me a sense of relief. Perhaps I hadn’t rinsed my hair properly the last time, so my hair hadn’t been dirty, just unfinished. I wish I knew what the hell this stuff was so I knew never to buy it again when I got out. Unfortunately, everything we had in here was in clear or white packaging, with simple handwritten labels. The water had mostly eroded the text of this bottle away, so that all was left of the word was the unfortunate end: Poo.
I chuckled and was grateful for the normal sound. If I could still laugh, then everything was going to be fine. I did one final rinse, and was about to turn off the water, when I heard the door open again. I reached slowly for the tap, turning until the water stopped. I leaned in for my towel, wrapping it slowly and quietly around me. As I did, I heard the creak of the bed. This time there was no dripping water to blame. This time I was certain someone had come in. I got changed as swiftly as possible, surprised at my ability to do something so normal in such a strange moment. I had not heard the door again, so whoever had come in was still waiting inside for me. I was now even surer that my time here was done, and that this was their ‘fun’ way of surprising me with the news. Had time really gone so fast? My excitement began to build as I imagined my time here to be over. Despite the slow unraveling of my sanity, which I figured was only normal, and the intense and excruciating boredom, it hadn’t been too bad. If it was over, then all this would’ve been worthwhile. I stepped out the bathroom and gazed around.
Nobody.
I chuckled, looked directly into the camera, pointed to under the bed, then looked into the camera again. I know he’s there, my look said. I thought of sitting on the bed, pretending as if I knew nothing, just to see how long they would take to show themselves, but I was too excited. I got down on my knees and peered beneath the bed. I was about to shout “Got ya!” but there was nobody there. “Got—” came out of my mouth, then turned to a gurgled gasp as I tried to fathom what was happening. I continued to look, as if someone might suddenly appear, then slowly got back up. I rushed to the bathroom, the only possible place someone could be, and looked inside. Of course there was nobody there. I’d just come from there in the first place. What was going on? Someone had been in here. I was sure of it. I checked under the bed again, for no other reason than not knowing what to do with myself. Nothing. Nobody. Nothing, nobody, nothing, nobody. The empty space mocked me. I got back up, and sat on the bed. I observed the room in quick darting spurts. The fridge, the bathroom curtain, the camera, the cream wall, the kettle, the water bottle, the mirror, the buzzer. The buzzer. The buzzer. The buzzer. I tried to look away, but my gaze kept returning to it. All I had to do was press it, and all of this could be over. I’d been convinced someone had come in to tell me it was over, but the sudden thought I was nowhere near the two weeks now loomed over me. I had fooled myself if I thought that my time in here been good. It hadn’t. An intense desire to cry came over me. It reminded me of the many occasions I’d wanted to cry in the real world, and the amount of times I had. I always felt like a failure when the tears forced their way out of me. My father had told me on so many occasions that real men don’t cry. My unmanliness was the one thing I was reminded of every time I saw him. I ran my hand through my hair, and gasped.
“What the—
My hair felt sticky again. Was it blood? I checked but my hand simply felt wet. Hadn’t I just been through this? Or had I been sitting here all along? I pulled my feet up onto the bed, and wound myself into a tight ball.
“You’re going to be fine.” My head was down, squished by my legs, and my voice was muffled. The cameras wouldn’t be able to make out the words, and this soothed me. “Fine. Fine. Fine.”
Chapter 12
Elton
“G’day Podsters. It’s another beautiful day in PodBook. The sun is shining, but only out of my ass,” I said with a laugh. I sometimes tried too hard to complicate things, but the simple jokes were often the best ones. I imagined Jon watching this once the show was finished, and laughing his own ass off. Maybe we’d even watch it together. I liked the guy. “The birds are singing, but there’s only one in the band. Me.” I sang my usual little Beatles tune, exaggerating the highs and the lows. “I’ve always wanted to be in a band, but I chose comedy instead, because, let’s face it, I can’t sing. At least in here I can pretend I’m good. That’s what happens when you have nobody to compare yourself to. I’m as good as the guy next to me,” I said and then turned my head to the empty space beside me. “Oh right, there’s nobody here. Then I can honestly state that I’m the best singer in here. Oh, what’s this,” I said dramatically as I opened up my imaginary computer. “Ah, the emails are streaming through. Okay, we have this one that’s just come through from a Mr. I.P. Freely,” I grinned. That Simpsons joke had been a big hit when I was a kid. “Mr. Freely wants to know how big the pod is. Right, well, let’s just put it this way, this place is so small that if a family of ants were to live here, they’d still call it a shack. Before coming in here, I was considering buying a new house, because the one I lived in was becoming a little too small for me. Yeah I’m only one person, but my personality needs a room of its own. In this place I barely have enough room for my ego.” I grinned. I loved it when the jokes poured out of me without me trying. I was on a roll. I leaned in. “In here the only thing I have space for is my almost non-existent dignity. But in all seriousness, Mr. Freely, this place is tiny. But like they say, it’s not the size of the thing that matters, but how you use it.”
My jokes continued at a steady pace, and I only stopped because I found myself getting a little too crude for daytime television. Which I assumed is where The Void would be aired. If they cut me out because I was too shocking for their audience the whole thing would’ve been pointless. Also, my jokes seemed to move between being funny and being stupid, and I hated that I seemed to have no way of controlling them. Sometimes everything I said sounded so forced I had to add in my own one-man laughter track just to make up for it. Truth was, I was already getting a little bored of the place. And I had never been good with boredom. It reminded me of the last dinner party I had been to. The
very concept of a dinner party eluded me. To me, the two things were so vastly different they didn’t marry well. I preferred to eat at home, the sort of food I knew I would like. A party should be drinks and snacks, and a whole lot of laughter. This party had been typical of the friends who had invited me. They’d been married for like twenty years already, and they were now so similar that I struggled to tell the two apart. Perhaps mentioning this wasn’t such a good idea. I mean, I didn’t actually think that Angie looked like Tom, but their mannerisms were so alike it almost took over the physicality. Apparently, I was “rude” for saying so. Asking for better music – I mean, who even liked instrumental – and saying I didn’t like the soup – broccoli, I mean, come on! – made me “obnoxious”. I was only having a little fun with them. The cheese had been the last straw for them. They were vegans (don’t get me started), and I had apparently made a massive faux pas when commenting on the not-so-stringy fake cheese that lay stiffly on the top of my pasta. They insisted it tasted like the real thing, but a few mouthfuls in and all I could taste was something akin to a spoonful of coconut oil – don’t ask me how I knew what that tasted like. They hadn’t been impressed, but quite frankly, I hadn’t been impressed with them. Why lie? Why not tell me it doesn’t taste like cheese but that they’re trying to pretend it does to make themselves feel better? That’s what being in this pod felt like now. It felt like a dinner party with fake cheese, where everyone was just pretending to be okay. Far out! I thought as the analogy swam to mind. Maybe I should be a writer and not a comedian. The thought should’ve pleased me, but somehow it left a funny taste in my mouth, just like that boring dinner party had done. I hadn’t been invited back, but that was okay. They’d told me I should start acting my age, but if that meant spending my life pretending, then I wanted nothing to do with it. I smiled into the camera. This was a different sort of pretence. Wasn’t it? Elton Rigby might have signed out of PodBook, but Bob Store has signed out of life. I wasn’t pretending. I was being the me I was always meant to be.
Chapter 13
Melanie
Either I was not ready to draw other animals, or I’d become too attached to this little cat I’d created, but so far I had not wanted to draw anything else. The little cat, or ‘Todd in the Pod’ as I’d named him, had become somewhat of a companion to me. I’d started with the whole art imitating life thing, where each drawing of him was based on my life in the pod. This was cute but grew tiring. After all, I did the same things over and over, and there was only so many ways I could draw the cat meditating or doing yoga. Somehow, the drawings had taken on a life of their own, and the cat had become my friend. Todd in the Pod was strolling in the park now, which I imagined to be a lot like the one where I’d first met Larry. I could almost smell the grass as his little paws touched the blades, and I chuckled as I made him lie down to rest under the shade of the tree. I spent some time with him there, drawing him over and over again, so that if I had drawn him on separate pages I could’ve flipped through the book and watched him move. I didn’t need to create the illusion of movement, though. My mind did it for me. Todd in the Pod had become so real to me that I was almost sure he was waiting for me in the outside world. I didn’t have a pet—I’d never dared to—but the thought of this little guy waiting for me to come out made me happy. I’d been drawing for a while already, and I still had the rest of my activities to get through, but I decided to draw a little more. I was happy with my new friend, and having him there with me made me feel like I wasn’t so alone. I drew another one of him, and this time he had moved ever so slightly to the sun. Half of his body remained in the shade, with just his face and his two front paws getting his daily dose of vitamin D. I drew him again, exactly the same but included a small smile. This was his happy place. I got up and drew a window on the wall. The producers of the show might not be so happy, but I didn’t care. What were they going to do with this place when the show was done anyway? The little window made me feel happy even though it wasn’t real. What was real? What if everything in life was simply a figment of our own imaginations? If that was the case then I really needed to start thinking about more positive things. Then I lay back down, right next to Todd in the Pod, and imagined light shining through onto me. I closed my eyes and pictured myself at the park. I swear I could feel the sun warming my face, and I smiled. I imagined someone drawing me, just as I had drawn Todd.
I woke when a darkness loomed above, and I rubbed my eyes expecting to find clouds moving in front of the sun. I gasped when instead of clouds, I saw Andy. He was the dark cloud. Only, he didn’t look the same. Hadn’t I once described him to someone as having kind eyes? Who had I told that to? They seemed unkind now, scary even, and he was glaring down at me in a way that made my body shiver. Why was he so scary? Then I remembered. This was the Andy of the present, not the one from my past. He wore glasses, small tortoise-shell frames that did not suit him, and I wondered when he’d stopped wearing contacts. Was this why he looked so strange to me now? I couldn’t remember his eyes looking that way. Maybe the contacts had made him look kind. Had they protected me from the truth? Why was he staring at me like that? And why was I still lying there? I opened my mouth to speak, but the only sound that came made it sound like I was trying to talk underwater.
“Thought you could run away, eh? Just lying here and catchin’ some rays? Like you’ve got no worries in the world.” No worries, mate. No worries, mate. Why did those words keep circling through my brain?
“How…how…”
“How did I find you? Do you think I’m a bloody fool?
“No. I…”
“Who the fuck is that?” he said. “Got a new friend, eh?” He laughed. Although, it was more of a jeer than a laugh. I hadn’t heard the sound for a while, but it bounced through my very core with a sad familiarity.
“Who?” I asked. He moved slightly, and a bit of the light came shining back down on me. I shielded my eyes, then suddenly remembered who was next to me.
“Todd!” I cried, and then I jumped over the cat to save him.
I woke in a panic. I was on my haunches, clutching at my notebook. The sweat from my forehead had dripped onto the page, smudging the latest drawing of the cat. I looked at it in confusion, then sat up in surprise. It had only been a dream. Andy was not about to attack, and Todd in the Pod wasn’t real. There was no real sunlight. Only a rough drawing of a window on the cream wall. It was a dream. A dream. Relief dawned on me when I saw the camera angled toward me. I stood, nodded into it, then made my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face. The dream had felt so real, but, even though I’d been slightly startled at first, it hadn’t rattled me. If anything it showed me that I was here for a reason. I wasn’t just here to prove my inner strength to myself. Perhaps one day Andy would see this, and he’d know he hadn’t ruined me. And if he didn’t ruin me, nothing would. That’s what made me stand out from the others. Unlike them, I wanted to be in here. Maybe I hadn’t been chosen to be the thorn among the roses. Perhaps they had seen I was the sort of person who would survive a place like this when others wouldn’t. Because unlike them, I had been through so much worse.
It was drawing close to the end of the day or, at least, the end of the day in my new world. I couldn’t wait to find out how close I was to real-world time. If my calculations were correct, then I’d been in here four and a quarter days. It was getting progressively more difficult, but I had no doubt in my mind I could do this. I used to be a strong person, back when I was in my teens. I was one of those characters everyone thought would go far in life. It had something to do with the way I presented myself, at least that’s what someone told me once. I used to be laser focused, and my willingness to get ahead had always propelled me. It was something my father had taught me, and to this day he remained the strongest man I had ever known. Unfortunately, once he died, the men in my life seemed to get progressively worse. My mid-twenties to mid-thirties would forever remain a decade I would live to regret. Whether that was
due to me or to circumstances, I was not sure. Probably a combination of both. I preferred to think I had no choice, that I didn’t see the storm ahead, but I now knew I was only fooling myself. You know that stillness you feel just before the storm, that’s what I had always felt with Andy. It took a long time to come, but when it did it knocked me right off my feet. I stood up, and stretched. It was time for my meditation, a warm meal, a cup of tea, and a sleep. The dream might have taken me by surprise, but I had my routine and I was going to stick to it. I set myself down in the circle I had drawn on the floor—apologies to the TV producers. I was about to start my meditation for the evening but something was bothering me. My smudged cat. I couldn’t leave him like that. I reached for the paper, and drew him again. I made a little circle for him too and positioned him right in the middle of the page, with nothing around. I had a few extra pages to spare each day, and I felt he deserved his own space after what had happened. Once he was drawn, and ready to be left alone, I put away he book and shut my eyes.
I may have found strength in the void, but I had no control of my dreams. Seeing Andy again had awakened a slew of memories I had thought well and truly hidden. I’d shoved them at the back and deposited a whole heap of new memories on top of them. Still, I should’ve known that they would one day return. My subconscious mind was acting like a therapist, telling me I had to deal with what had happened. I was okay thinking about some of the things, but parts of my life were better left untouched. I had no intention of visiting them again. Hopefully my mind knew I was better off without remembering it all. Maybe I needed to up my meditation before bed to an extra half hour. I needed my mind to be as empty as possible before I fell asleep. I would have to try that tonight. For now, it seemed that being awake in the pod was where I was most comfortable at. Just me, my routines and my new little friend. It felt safe here.
The Void Page 6
