Jack in the Box

by Shaw, Michael

"Well, yeah, but that's kinda your fault-"

  "-And I'm getting only one meal a day." I crossed my arms.

  ". . .also your fault," Brian pointed out.

  "Whatever," I threw my hands up. "I'm just saying there's a design flaw in this test."

  "Have you considered that maybe those things are part of the design?" Brian asked.

  I paused. "Yeah, okay," I said passively.

  He smiled and took another bite. "So, what'd you dream about?"

  I ignored him and stood up. Walked toward the door. "Come on, Brian, lets do this." I turned the doorknob. "Again."

  seven

  "Hang on there, Jack," Brian rushed up to the door. "Change of plans for today."

  I kept my grip on the doorknob. "What?"

  "Today, I'll walk with you for a little bit."

  I turned my head toward him. Raised both eyebrows."This isn't a trick, is it?"

  "You're worried? I'm not the one with the gun." He said, pointing at the firearm.

  I let go of the door handle. "Okay, then, what's up?"

  "Come on," he grabbed the handle and opened the door.

  We walked through a few rooms. Side by side. Completely silent. Kept walking. Still no talking.

  Brian finally broke the silence. "So, how's it going?"

  "Well, I'm just trapped in a weird building with no sense of direction, trying to complete some unnecessary task for the purpose of escaping."

  "Yeah. . ."

  "You know how it is."

  He grinned. "Yeah. . . Well, breakfast was pretty-"

  "Okay, what's this about?" I stopped walking.

  He stopped a few feet later. Turned to face me. "Alright. I want to make sure you're clear on something. Something very important."

  I shifted my weight to my left side. "Okay. . ."

  Brian hesitated. "You remember the rules."

  "I do. . ."

  I don't know how to describe his face. It was dark. Like he was going to give me some big admonition. "Then understanding the rules, you know that if the time comes, when you try to. . ." he paused.

  I let him think. I said nothing.

  ". . . subdue me, try to subdue me. . ." Brian looked down and rubbed his temple with his fingers. "If that happens," he brought his eyes up and locked them with mine. "just know that I will, I will do everything I can to stop you."

  I was slightly disappointed. "Yeah, I kinda knew-"

  "-Don't get me wrong, I like you and everything, Jack. But just like you, I'm bound by the rules of the test. I can't kill you, but I can still do a whole lot."

  Then I understood what he was doing. He was warning me. But I didn't understand why. "Is this part of the test?" I asked him.

  Brian laughed a little. "No, it's not. But it's still within the rules."

  "What do you mean?" I asked. It seemed like he was doing all this because he was actually concerned about me. For what reason, I didn't know. If he had done this before, which was made apparent from the note left by the dead guy, then the last thing he'd do is try to help out a test subject. In any way.

  "I have rules, too, Jack. One you already know is I can't kill you."

  Well, not directly.I was still thinking about that guy. He had just killed himself, and he was happy about it. Whether Brian admitted it or not, he had power. Not just in the test. In the mind, too.

  "Another thing is I can't give any hints. . ."

  That made me laugh. "Yeah, figured that one out."

  He laughed too, but quickly got serious again. "Yeah, well, what I'm getting at is. . . This is borderline illegal. Icanexplain things about the test, as long as I don't give hints.

  "Well that stinks for me," I said jokingly. But it was really true.

  "I know," Brian turned around and walked toward a door. "But rules are rules."

  I watched him grab the handle. "Yeah? Whose rules are they?"

  He didn't reply. He opened the door.

  I slowly walked toward Brian. He went through the doorway when I came up to it. He turned around. Looked me straight in the eye. We stood less than two feet apart. "Goodbye, Jack." He shut the door.

  I opened it as fast as I could. Brian was gone.

  "Thought so," I entered the room. Closed the door behind me. I was about to keep going, but I heard the door open and close behind me. I quickly turned around to see what it was. Nothing.Well, that's one more thing that doesn't make sense,I thought at first. But then I realized what it was. It was Brian.

  I laughed. He'd been hiding in the corner.

  →

  Walking through hell was never bad. It just wasn't that great. It was boring. Is that what hell is supposed to be? Boredom? I knew there was more to it, take the fact I could never leave and the only way to get out was by catching or killing the only other human being I knew, but still.

  I was still unsure if the test were really hell anyway. But it was my only good theory. Well, it was my only theory, actually.

  You just don't know,I remembered Brian's words. and I really didn't. I didn't know.He keeps talking about this place like it is hell, but is that just part of the test, too?

  I tried to stop thinking about it. Tried to stop thinking of the test as hell. But I knew that I wouldn't be able to.

  "Okay," I said to myself. "I just have to focus on the test." I had to figure out how to find my way around.

  I took the piece of paper out of my pocket. The one I'd found the other day. Unfolded it. I reexamined the four letters. It immediately hit me. It was North, South, East, and West. It was like a compass.

  Good, now I'm getting somewhere. Why didn't I notice this when I first saw it?It seemed so simple. I should have recognized it sooner. I mean, I was supposed to be super smart according to Brian's little intelligence tests he gave me at the beginning. But I remembered that I was trying to figure it out during that part of the day when I used to pass out. It was like my body was working against me. When I was tired, I couldn't figure it out. It seemed like something obvious for me to realize, but I hadn't thought about it before. I couldn't think straight unless I slept. Which meant that I had to keep dreaming about my weird life before the test if I wanted to get out of it.Whether I like it or not, I'm going to have to keep dreaming.

  I refocused on the paper.Okay, now what? I don't have a compass.I looked around the room.Maybe Im supposed to find a compass in one of these rooms, just like I found the paper.The idea seemed like it could be true, but I'd have no idea when to give up searching. What if I never found it? What if it weren't even there? I could never know.

  Then I had a different idea. I walked to the center of the room.I bet each compass direction matches a door. It made sense. Four doors. Four directions. Now I knew why this paper was even around. It was to help me. Either to help me figure out my way around the rooms, or to lead me through the rooms to some destination. Once I got the compass, I could see if the directions lined up with the doors.

  At that point, I didn't know what else to do. I had to get a compass. Hopefully it would help me figure things out. But I wasn't sure if Icouldfigure things out. Was there even a way to navigate through the place? Was there some sort of "system" that this would lead me to? I felt like maybe when in the test there was no possible way to know which room was which. Maybe there was no secret. But if there was no secret, how could Brian know how to travel around? How would he get himself back to my room? Could he work outside the boundaries of the test?

  No,I dismissed the idea.He told me himself. He's bound by the rules too.But even then I wasn't sure. He could've lied. He could've just said that to fool me.

  Granted, Brian had only told me the truth about everything else. Or at least, as far as I knew. But everything he warned me against was right, namely the things that got me attacked and forced to unconsciousness by some invisible man. So, I had to trust him. He was the only person I knew that I could trust in some way. Actually, he was the only person I knew, but it still counted for something.

  I exited the
room.Well, I guess the rest of this day will be like the ones before, unless my hopeful theory is right and I come across a compass. Other than that, nothing will happen.

  And then something happened. I walked straight into my room. It actually made me jump a little. "Whoa!" I said quietly. It was hard to believe. I was actually back in my room. How'd that happen? I still had no way to understand where I was going in this ridiculous place, but somehow, I was there, in my room. With its bed, and table, and chairs, and desk. . .

  I don't have a desk. . .I approached the foreign item. No papers. No books. Just a desk. A desk with one drawer compartment underneath. I examined the drawer. Tried to open it. Locked. A keyhole was centered on the front of the drawer.

  "You'd probably need this," Brian said. He was standing right behind me.

  I tried to act like I wasn't surprised. Purposely made no reaction. I turned around slowly. "Oh yeah?"

  He held a key at chest level. Smiled. "Yeah."

  "So when'd you have this desk put in here?" I gave off a lighthearted tone. "You're stronger than I thought!"

  "Oh, that's been there," Brian said bluntly, putting the key in his pocket. He wasn't smiling anymore.

  My eyes followed the key. I was confused now. "Wha-"

  "This is my room, Jack," Brian put his hands in his pockets.

  I took a step back. Looked around me. "Oh. . ." I could tell now. The covers on the bed were a different color. The table in the center of the room was round, not square.

  "But, I'm going to go, now," Brian started toward a door. "Lunch is in ten minutes."

  I raised my eyebrows.Wait, so he's going to my room to have lunch? Couldn't I just follow him?

  I tried to, and it worked. He was obviously aware of it, but he acted like nothing was happening. He casually walked from door to door, turning his head back periodically to see if I was still there.

  I was clueless without following Brian. Every time he changed directions, I wondered what he was using to give him guidance. There were no clues in the rooms. He wasn't using any tool. He just knew. He got us to my room with no problem.

  We sat down. Lunch was already there for us. Sandwiches. Hadn't had one of those since, well, I couldn't remember. Since sometime in my past life. They were good. And I tasted something else I didn't remember having ever. Soda. It was good. I figured I must've tried it in the life of my dreams.

  "Good, right?" Brian noticed how much I was savoring it.

  "Yeah," I replied. "Helps me out."

  "Really?" Brian asked.

  "Yeah." I took a big bite. "In case you haven't noticed, this test is. . ." I looked at him to catch what I was saying.

  He did nothing but stare. Squinted a little. Like he didn't understand.

  I lowered my head. Let out a breath and lifted my eyes. "It's hard, Brian."

  He smiled and leaned back. "I'm the one who told you that. But maybe it's not hard in itself. Maybe it's hard because of you." He pointed at his head. "You're just making it hard."

  "Are you sure? Because according to you I'm really smart," I clapped my hands together. "But guess what? I haven't figured it out yet."

  Brian shook his head. "Okay, let me tell you something."

  I folded my arms. "I'm all ears."

  He rubbed his hands together. "I want you to imagine yourself."

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "Just listen, Jack." He kept his hands together. "Picture yourself."

  "Okay," I did.

  "You're in an airplane. Someone puts you and one other person in a large metal box. And then he just. . ." Brian threw his hands up. "Pushes you out of the plane."

  I leaned forward.

  "There's two ways to get out. The metal box is locked from the inside, but the lock has a combination. Figure it out, and you're out of the box."

  "Okay," I said. "What does this-"

  He put his hand up. "The other way: the person in the plane will remotely open the box if you can do one thing." He leaned in so that our faces were inches apart. "Just one thing. Kill the other guy in the box."

  I said nothing. I found myself gripping the sides of the table.

  "But here's the thing," Brian used his hands as visual aids. "The box was shoved out of a plane. If you kill the guy, you get out, and then you hit the ground. You're both dead. If you figure out the combination, sure, you both get out. But then youbothhit the ground. Either way, everyone dies in the end."

  Now I understood what he was saying. I tried to object. "Yeah, but that's not the same as-"

  Brian slammed his hand on the table. "We're in a box, Jack!" his voice was firm. He pointed his finger at me. "And it's great that you're trying to figure out the combination, but in the end. . ." He thrust his arms out. As wide as he could. "In the end. We still. Hit. The Ground!"

  I squeezed the table even tighter. My hands turned completely white.Is this really happening?

  "You can't stop gravity. You think you're saving a life? You're just prolonging death."

  I let my arms fall. "I. . ."

  Brian stood up. "But go ahead. Keep working on that combination." And he left the room.

  I slumped back in my chair, and I realized that I was breathing really heavily.I don't understand. Why would Brian want me to kill him? Is this still part of the test? Or does he have a death wish?I rubbed my temples. He told me in the beginning that he didn't want me to kill him. Why would he encourage it now?

  I buried my head in my hands.I know I can do it,I thought, and I lifted my head. Looked at my palms.But I won't. It's. . . It's wrong.

  Wrong. I had never thought that word before. Not in that way. But I had always had some sort of feeling of it. Like there are certain things I should do and others that I shouldn't. Right and wrong. Morality. I don't remember ever acquiring this feeling. It was like I always had this sense. This sense, this feeling, that certain things just weren't right. Ever since I woke up in the test. It had been there all along.

  Thinking about that, and all the time I had spent in the test before then, made me rethink my strategy. I went in aimlessly and got easily frustrated or freaked out by whatever happened. Just being stuck in the place almost led me to suicide. I hadn't even been in there long, and I already felt pushed to my limits. The very nature of the test made me act too rashly at the beginning. Too frustrated, too immature. I had been going about this wrong. The test really was like a game. I needed to start playing smarter. Stop letting my emotions flow outward whenever something weird happened. Start focusing on the test, and getting it done. I had to figure out the combination, as Brian put it.

  This new perspective felt right. Like my true personality was returning. I burned myself out those first few days in the test with my emotions, frustrated mind, and lack of focus. Is the test to blame? Probably a little. But I realized I needed to suck it up and focus on cracking this thing. I was taking the high road.Brian's gonna come down, but I won't kill him.

  I didn't leave my room. I took the paper out of my pocket and opened it up. Looked for anything I may have missed. Then I noticed something. All the letters, the N, S, E, and W, were all underlined. Except the N and the E weren't just underlined once. They had two underlines underneath them.Okay, so earlier I realized that these were compass directions. Now there's the underlines. What do those mean?I scratched the side of my head.The compass directions are the directions of the rooms. At least, I think they are.My fingers tapped the table. But regardless of what the underlines mean, I still need a compass.I wished I had asked Brian about that. I know that there were a lot of questions he didn't answer. But it couldn't hurt. There was only one way to know what questions could or couldn't be answered. And that was to keep asking questions.

  Okay.I folded the paper back up and put it in my pocket.So I have a plan. Ask about the compass. But what do I do now?I looked around the room.Leaving would be pointless. I'd just get lost then end up back here tomorrow morning. Why not stay here?That seemed like the smartest idea. I remembered that I ha
d considered it before, but now I actually got to.

  I sat down, getting the feeling that I was going to be there, doing nothing, for a while. But I didn't want to go out and not be able to come back.

  "Now what. . ."

  No one was there to answer. Just me. I put my head down.

  Thirty minutes passed.

  An hour.

  Two hours.

  Finally, I remembered something. My head shot up. My notebook. I took it from my pocket and placed it on the table. I decided to tear a piece of paper out, then got up and walked to a door.

  I thought about all those papers that had vanished and reappeared. I was still so confused about it.How am I supposed to use my intelligence if the test works irrationally?

  I crumpled up the paper. Opened the door.Let's try this one more time. I tossed it into the other room, closed the door, and reopened it.

  The paper was still there. I exhaled.That makes sense, which doesn't make sense.I shut the door and scratched my head.One day they disappear, today they don't. So I have to figure out what was different.

  I thought back to when it happened. I wasn't in my room. But that wouldn't change anything, because my room itself had disappeared when I walked out of it. What else was different?

  I stood there, trying to think of every possible variable.Maybe if I tried a different door? I turned around and approached the door across from the one I'd just used. But as I walked toward it, I heard the door behind me open.

  I spun around, gun pointed in the direction of the sound. That freaked me out. I didn't even think about it; my body just reacted immediately.

  It was Brian. But his body reacted immediately too. He knocked my arm to the side and started to shut the door.

  I didn't give up. I grabbed the handle on my side and yanked it toward me. Brian stumbled into the room. I shut the door, and noticed something right before it was completely closed. The paper was gone.

  Seriously. . . ?

  In that split second I'd gotten distracted from Brian. He grabbed my wrist and pushed upward. Keeping my arm vertical, he stretched a finger out and released the magazine from the pistol.