The Fabulist

by Chiletz, Dawn L.

  Stuck-Up pokes his head through the door and looks around. Seeing nothing, he shrugs and continues on.

  Hogan turns his head to face me. My chin is elevated to his and our mouths are inches apart. For a moment, he seems to press me farther into him. Bending his head slightly to mine, I almost think he might kiss me. But suddenly he releases me and gently jostles me away.

  “That can’t happen again. If they see me with you like this, they’ll have my ass. None of this can be used for the show because I’m not supposed to be here. This isn’t good, Sam. I’m your cameraman. I’m only supposed to be near you when I’m filming.” He’s really worried and I feel terrible for placing him in a bad position.

  “I’m sorry.” I grit my teeth and lower my eyes. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. It’s just, I don’t know. I feel like you’re one of the few people I can trust around here. Someone I can talk to.”

  Hogan sighs as he steps closer and reaches for my hand. “I know you want to talk to me, and believe me, if you and I were at a random hotel, I would talk to you all night long. But this is my job, and yours for that matter. I have to walk away even though everything inside me wants nothing more than to take you back behind that door again.”

  I simper at him. “Are you flirting with me, Hulk?” I ask playfully.

  He shakes his head. “If telling you I find you insanely attractive and would like to press my body back up against yours is flirting, then yes, I believe I am.” My sharp intake of air at his frankness causes him to laugh. “Come on. We need to go.”

  He sticks his head out and when it’s clear no one is watching, he pulls me out along with him and quickly rushes away. I stand there for a few seconds before I turn toward the boardroom. It’s empty and quiet. I’m a bit unsettled. I can’t tell if it’s from being back here in the dark or what just happened with Hogan.

  Alone for the first time in hours, I take my time strolling along the chess pieces, running my fingers over each one as I pass. They appear to be hand-carved. They feel smooth, not like wood. Maybe it’s alabaster. My mind flips between the game and my uncertain feelings.

  What just happened with Hogan? Does he want me? Is it possible I want him? My stomach is in knots. It’s hard to tell what I’m experiencing. I stare up at the king piece and feel a cold chill, as if the air just kicked on. Wrapping my arms around myself, I notice a light coming from behind a door that’s ajar.

  I slowly step toward it and push it open with the tips of my fingers. Inside is a purple couch and a bunch of throw pillows. It’s warm and inviting, kind of like a living room. There’s a lamp on the table and beads on the opposite side that reflect the dim light. A camera faces the couch. There are directions posted on the wall.

  Diary Rules:

  1. Close the door for privacy. It cannot be opened from the outside once it’s closed unless the producer uses a key.

  2. Please turn on the light switch by the door as well as the light on the lamp.

  3. On the left side of the camera is an on button. When you are ready to speak, push it and sit on the X on the couch.

  4. Turn off the camera when you’re finished, turn off the lights and leave the door ajar when you exit.

  5. You may speak openly and freely. None of the other players will hear what you say at this time.

  I close the door and flip on the light switch as well as the lamp. Sitting down on the yellow X on the couch, I stare at the camera. I came in here to say something, maybe even to vent, but now that I’m here, my mind is blank. I pick up a pillow and hold it tightly to my chest. For some reason, I feel as if I want to cry and I haven’t cried in years. It’s too hard to let go of that control. It makes me feel weak. I need to get a grip.

  I stand and toss the pillow back on the couch, flip off the lights and swing open the door. High-Rise is standing just outside and his presence catches me off-guard. Another thing I despise. “Why is everyone so damn sneaky around here?” I shout.

  “I apologize. Didn’t know anyone was in there.”

  “Well, go ahead. I’m done.”

  I push past him and hurry out of the boardroom. The contrast in lighting from dim to bright makes me blink several times. I lean my back against the wall and take several steadying breaths. What’s wrong with me? Long day, I suppose. I head over to the bar where Carmen is chatting with Maria and Granola.

  “Hey, sorry to interrupt. I’m tired and going to bed. Do you need me to walk you to your room?” I ask Carmen.

  “I’ve got it, but thanks. Are you all right?”

  “Perfect,” I lie. “If you need me, you know where to find me. And if she gives you any shit, you’d better get me immediately. If not, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Carmen whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nod and smile.

  Pushing the elevator button, I yawn. I’m more tired than I realized. I head up to my room and open the door. I’m shocked to see Hogan standing inside with a camera turned to me.

  “Hey, roomie!”

  I sigh. I’d forgotten about having a roommate. I also forgot I have one who can’t sleep. “Hey,” I respond casually.

  BM has cards spread out all over the bed. I’m guessing from the piles, she’s playing solitaire. “Want to join me? We could play Blackjack or Rummy, maybe 31?”

  “Thanks, but I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to get ready for bed.” I try to pretend Hogan isn’t in my room and ignore the camera. I’m too tired to think clearly anymore about these odd feelings for him and for the game.

  I pull a T-shirt from my bag and make my way to the bathroom. Once I finish removing my makeup, brushing my hair, and all my other bedtime rituals, I switch off the bathroom light and head to my bed. Sleep is pulling me hard and I can’t think anymore.

  As soon as I leave the bathroom, Hogan’s camera is back on me. I wonder if my T-shirt covers my ass, but it’s what I sleep in, so Hogan and the rest of America can take it or leave it. I might have bent over for his viewing pleasure if I cared at this moment, but I don’t. Pulling back the covers, I slide into bed. I turn off the light on my side and set the alarm for 6:30.

  “Will my light keep you awake?” she asks.

  I yawn. “Nope.”

  It’s the last thing I remember.

  I’M PLEASED TO wake up to a sleeping BM and no sign of Hogan. I didn’t want him to see me first thing in the morning. It’s not a pretty sight. Somehow during the night, my hair clumps into a ball on one side of my head and the mascara I so carefully removed the night before is smudged under my eyes as if I didn’t even attempt to take it off. I’m a not-so-hot mess.

  I remember casual, so I opt for jeans and a pink tank top with a lighter pink button-down shirt. I put in my earrings and stare at a snoring BM, wondering if I should wake her. Deciding it would be the right thing to do, I shake her. Nothing.

  “BM,” I whisper as I gently poke her. Realizing I just called her by her nickname, I stop, glancing around the room. Her luggage is next to her bed and I lift the tag. Brenda. Her name is Brenda. “Brenda. Brenda, wake up. It’s almost eight. Did you want breakfast?”

  She moans and lifts her lids. “You go ahead. Thanks.”

  I shrug, grab my key card, and head out the door. As soon as I’m in the hall, a cameraman turns his attention on me and follows me to the elevator. Once I’m inside, he films until the doors close. He speaks into a microphone, but I never hear what he says.

  I feel much better after getting some rest. I’m one of those people who can usually function without it, but I think yesterday was just overwhelming. My head is clear and after some coffee, I think I’ll be ready to kick some ass.

  Carmen is sitting at a table alone, reading a book. She hasn’t noticed me yet. I’m anxious to hear how things went with her bitchy roommate, but I need coffee first. A table at the front of the room offers pitchers of orange juice and coffee. I beeline toward it.

  High-Rise is in a corner with Stuck-Up. That combo makes me n
ervous. Sarge is chatting it up with Maria. She smiles and waves when she sees me. Feeling a need to get to know him more than I do, I approach them. He’s tall and athletic with a bit of grey up top framing the edges of his dark, soldier-cut hair.

  “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting. I didn’t get a chance to meet you yesterday. I’m Sam.” I hold out my hand to him.

  He shakes it firmly. “Nice to meet you. Maria and I were just discussing the interesting mix of characters the producers have assembled.”

  I huff. “That’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a stranger group in my life.”

  Maria grins at us. I tower over her and Sarge even more so, yet she’s strong and unintimidated by anyone. I’m guessing she’s in her mid-thirties and Sarge seems to be early forties.

  “I’m sure today will be the start of more craziness. It’ll be interesting to see where we go from here,” he replies.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what minor league team did you play for? I’m a huge Yankees fan myself, but I’ve been to a few of the New York-Penn League games.”

  “I played for the Angels of Anaheim. Those days were some of the best of my life.”

  I feel bad for him. His face lights up when he mentions it, but then the light seems to fade along with the memory.

  “But I love my job, so obviously there were greater things in store for me.”

  “Being a police officer is such an honorable profession. I don’t think I could ever do what you do.”

  He laughs, “Oh, I don’t know about that. Something tells me you’d hold your own on the streets.”

  I smile. “Yeah, I guess I don’t take much from anyone.” My stomach rumbles and they both laugh. “I think I’m going to get some coffee now. It was nice to meet you.”

  Grabbing a cup, I slide next to Carmen and she gazes up from her book. Her face lights back up and I’m relieved she’s smiling again.

  “Tell me what happened last night?” I ask. “Sorry I bailed. I was so fucking tired.”

  “It’s fine, Sammy,” she replies, patting my arm. “We stayed in the bar for another hour. I got to know more about Maria and Finola and I even had a chance to speak to Andrew.”

  “Well, I want to hear all about that, but first tell me what happened with Cocoa. Was she mean to you again? Because I’m ready to fight today.”

  “I went back to the room and she was in the bathroom. I was so nervous. Maria and Finola offered to come with me, but I wanted to do it on my own. Anyway, she came out of the bathroom and went over to her bed. I didn’t say a word. Having the cameraman there actually helped me to not feel so alone. After a few minutes, she said, ‘Look, we’re obviously going to have to suck it up and just get along while we’re here. If you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.’ I nodded and that was that.”

  “How generous of her. So she never apologized to you?”

  “Nope. I don’t care. She’s not the kind of person I’d ever want to be friends with anyway.” Carmen’s eyes move to the door and I follow her line of sight. Cocoa enters and Stuck-Up approaches her right away.

  “If she crosses another line with you, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  Carmen smiles weakly and places her book on the table. Within a few minutes, everyone is seated and Chef Nowar presents his breakfast creation to us. It’s some type of waffle slider with Canadian bacon and jalapeno syrup. It’s amazing. If I’m not careful I’m going to be a house when the show is over.

  At eleven we gather in the boardroom. It’s brighter than yesterday. Cameras are placed throughout. I don’t see Hogan anywhere.

  Bryce speaks. “Okay, everyone. We’re about to start filming. Please take a moment to let our makeup crew powder your noses to avoid glare, and we’ll be ready to roll.”

  I smile politely at the gentleman who comes to fix my face. He smiles back. Stuck-Up is ogling the woman fixing his.

  “Good luck making that face presentable,” I state. “It’s a face only a mother could love.”

  “Shut up, bitch. Mind your own business.”

  “Just trying to help the poor girl out. Try not to breathe in his dragon breath if you can.”

  He spins to face me. “What’s up with you today? You have to know by now I hate you. I can make your life a living hell.”

  “Bring it, ass-wipe.” I’m not sure what’s gotten in to me, but I can’t help but grin. I’m so ready for this game. It’s time I make my presence known. After all, I promised them drama and I need to deliver.

  “Welcome to The Fabulist. We’re thrilled to have you back with us on the show that promises intrigue, suspense, and a whole lot of lies.” Bryce strolls about the room. “We’re back in the boardroom of the famous Highlight Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, California. It’s a beautiful day, and our players are anxious to get started. I think it’s time we told them about their first challenge.” Bryce turns to face us. “Players, if you would follow me. We have a little surprise for you outside.”

  Carmen and I make eye contact and I shrug as we all stand and trail Bryce through the boardroom, down a hallway, and out a set of double doors. I see sunlight and it reminds me it’s only morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget the time of day when you’re indoors most of the time.

  I hear laughter from the players up ahead as they exit and I’m anxious to see what’s in store for us.

  Carnival music plays, but it’s more like what you’d expect from a haunted house. A strong drumbeat makes it sound darker than what you would find at a typical fair. The first thing I see is a tall sign with arrows in the middle of a garden escape. I didn’t even know there was a patio out here. One arrow points to the left and says THIS WAY. One points right and says HERE. One faces forward and says UP. Two additional arrows say THAT WAY and OVER THERE. Carmen and I take the path to the right. Stuck-Up and BM go left. We follow it through tall trees and bushes, and once inside, my mouth gapes open and a gigantic smile forms on my face. It’s fabulous!

  Inside the trees are paper lanterns in shades of purple, red, blue, and orange. There are clocks that spin continuously, some turning left and some right, but never actually keeping time. There is a character dressed as the March Hare and another is the Cheshire Cat. People dressed as playing cards line a pathway that leads farther back. There’s a large teacup in the center of the back patio on top of a checkerboard floor and a table with a topsy-turvy cake and plates. Ornate flower arrangements and balloons are everywhere.

  Carmen garbs my arm excitedly. We’ve been transported into Alice in Wonderland. Bryce hands us each a tall hat in different colors, and we walk the playing-card path through the garden. Just when I think it can’t get any cooler, we enter an even larger space, where there are people dressed in ornate costumes. The Mad Hatter awaits us at the back, sitting at a chair way too large for him. Behind him is another white movie screen and I’m curious as to whether or not that means we’ll be hearing from The Fabulist again.

  I sit in the chair assigned to me and take a moment to examine the room. The tables are covered in white silk and decorated with floral arrangements but still shaped in the boardroom U. Our chairs resemble the Mad Hatter’s. They’re beige, ornate, and much too large for one person, causing me to feel very small. Our names appear in front of the seats just as they do in the boardroom. Turning to my left, I see Hogan behind a camera. I release a deep breath, relieved to see him. There was a small part of me that worried he’d gotten in trouble for last night. I have to be more careful with him for both our sakes.

  Teacups of varying colors and patterns are stacked in front of me three high next to a single empty glass. To my right is a long-haired blonde in an Alice costume. Feeling like a child at an amusement park, I almost forget why I’m here. In the back of the room is a flower pot. A sign in it says “I’M MAD. YOU’RE MAD. WE’RE ALL A LITTLE CRAZY.” Red mushrooms, larger than life, line the periphery of the room, and beneath our feet is soft green grass. This must have cost a fortune.r />
  The Mad Hatter speaks, and I wonder if he is The Fabulist in disguise. My gut tells me he might be somewhere in this room.

  “Welcome, dear guests, to the first of your quests. This may seem like a fable and I may seem unstable, but I assure you there is more here than fun and games. For even in the player’s field, there’s more to any claim. I digress, I suppose, let us hear from your host.”

  He backs away with an elegant bow, and the screen comes to life. My chest tightens in anticipation.

  The Fabulist appears in shadow. Once again, all I see is a suit. Behind him are trees, and I frantically search around me to see if anything on the screen is familiar. He must be here somewhere. I can feel it.

  “Welcome to Wonderland,” he says in his English accent. He’s careful to barely move at all. “As you can see, we were quite busy preparing for you whilst you slept. It might all be a bit daft, but I assure you I have a reason for everything. I do like a good spot of tea. If you would please, provide my guests with a drink.”

  Within seconds servers are pouring us tea. I continue to stare at the screen. I keep hoping to notice something about him that will give me a clue to his identity.

  “Just like in Wonderland, nothing is as it seems. In a few minutes, you’ll hear from several close friends. They will tell you tales of their adventures. Some of them will tell the truth and some of them will lie. You will be required to vote: truth or lie? It’s either all completely true, or completely false. No in-between. There are twelve in all, as there are twelve of you. There is a pad and pen under your chair if you wish to take notes. Guard these notes with your life, as some of you are not to be trusted. Your score will determine your fate. This evening we will reveal the two lowest scores. One or more of you may be leaving us tonight. This is only the beginning. Each test will prove harder than the next. Enjoy your tea and be aware. I’m not the only one with a liar’s flare.”