SUSY Asylum

by Michael Pierce

  I could finally wash off the lines of beaded paste that created the wolf-head design, and the stain left behind surprisingly looked like the Lorne tattoos I’d seen. It looked a little too bright and obviously not raised like an old burn scar (like Kafka’s and Lazarus’s had been), but the design was pretty uncanny.

  “By tomorrow, it should look perfect. It needs to fade a little so it doesn’t look so brand new,” Desiree said, taking my hand in hers to closely inspect and admire her handiwork.

  “Okay, it’s your turn,” I said, leading her out of the hallway bathroom and back to her room.

  “Oh, no, this isn’t for me. It’s for you. I’m no Lorne, but you are.”

  “Supposedly.”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious with everything that’s happened. It’s not really lying for you; it’s you getting to be who you’re supposed to be.”

  “And you get to come along for the ride.”

  “Well, yeah. One of the many perks of having a Lorne as a best friend.”

  “I’m not gonna lie—I’m pretty scared senseless about all this,” I said.

  “You saw how it works with the tattoo. You don’t have to use the scanners. People seem so afraid of the tattoo itself that they barely even look at it.”

  “Yeah, and those people have to be scared for a reason,” I insisted.

  “You are that reason. You’re confident and powerful and can take over a room. You are a Lorne. You can do this!” Desiree stood directly in front of me, smiled and reached for my newly tattooed hand. She carefully grazed the design with her thumb.

  I didn’t feel like I was any of those things she just mentioned, but her confidence in me gave me strength. Maybe this would work after all. It wasn’t like it was permanent. We could enjoy the perks for a short while with some innocent adventures and then move on. Maybe my new identity could open doors to help me find my father, though I knew I had to be careful in asking for more Lornes because they’d obviously be able to identify each other.

  

  I knew Desiree would be trying on ten to twenty outfits in getting ready for our evening out. The more I thought about it, the more it began feeling like a date and not just hanging out with my good friend. I hoped I wasn’t reading too much into it and stressing myself out for no reason.

  Last night, Anna and I had hung out, went for coffee, and made out in her car outside of my house. It felt like less of a date than what I was getting ready for. Kissing her was very different than kissing Desiree, though they were both wonderful sensations. Anna was more aggressive, took charge, used her tongue and hands more. Desiree was passionate and gentle, even when she wasn’t intending to be. Her aggressiveness was gentle compared to Anna, but it was every bit as intoxicating. I felt like a jerk for comparing the two of them.

  I turned my attention to the night ahead. Gazing at the tattoo on my right hand, I tried to imagine what it would feel like to own the city. If it actually worked, we’d be able to do anything we wanted. And as Mr. Gordon would say, we had to focus on what we wanted—the desired end result—and the prophecy would be fulfilled if we believed in it enough.

  I had to believe.

  It took me less than twenty minutes to get ready and I headed out before Mom got home from the hospital, leaving a short note on the kitchen counter that I wouldn’t be home until late. I didn’t want her to worry, but I also didn’t want her to ask probing questions. Jeremy was theoretically out with Leslie, so I didn’t have to worry about him.

  I didn’t give Desiree a call ahead of time. I just showed up at her door and knocked without warning.

  She answered the door in a purple bathrobe. Her hair was slightly curled and seemed more voluminous than usual, and her make-up was bright, eyes clearly outlined, and glitter sprinkled on her cheeks. Melanie was sitting in the living room watching TV.

  “Who’s at the door?” Desiree’s mom called from the kitchen.

  “It’s just Oliver. We’re hanging out tonight; I told you that,” Desiree said, and then spoke to me. “You’re early.”

  “We didn’t set an exact time,” I answered.

  “You could’ve called first. I’m almost ready,” she said and ran back up the stairs, leaving me to fend for myself.

  After a few seconds of loitering in the entryway, I followed Desiree upstairs. She was in the hallway bathroom in front of the mirror, so I continued to her room and took a seat on her bed. A soft ballad of Elliott Smith poured from her iPod dock speakers.

  When she dashed into the room, her closed bathrobe billowed behind her to expose peek-a-boo glimpses of her bare legs. Paying me no attention, Desiree went straight for her dresser.

  “Turn around,” she commanded as she opened the top drawer.

  “Can’t I just close my eyes?” I asked innocently.

  “No. Turn around,” she insisted.

  I did as I was told and looked at the wall, which was covered in several taped posters, but my attention was brought to the one of the Alice in Wonderland movie, which instantly reminded me of Desiree’s Alice Halloween costume.

  It didn’t take long before I snuck a peek just in time to see Desiree pull a black strapless bra from the drawer. She turned and I turned back toward the wall in a flash, but not without her noticing.

  My heart was pounding and I heard her start to laugh.

  “Yeah, like I was really gonna change with you in the room,” she said.

  I fell back on her bed and rolled over to face her. She was still laughing and shaking her head.

  “You boys are all the same—even the nice ones.” With her bra draped over one arm, Desiree grabbed a crimson single-shouldered dress hanging from the inner knob of her door, and disappeared into the hallway.

  “I guess I’m considered one of the nice ones,” I said, but she was already gone.

  She waltzed back into the room a minute later to collect me and her heels, and we were off. Desiree lied to her mom saying we would get picked up in front of my house, so we left and headed down the sidewalk. We needed to find a safe place to transition, so we turned onto Santa Clara instead of crossing and walked down to the next street.

  “Slow down,” Desiree said, tugging at my arm with her free hand. She carried a small black purse in the other. “I can’t walk that fast in these heels.”

  They were high, making her almost as tall as I was. The crimson dress she had on cut halfway up her thighs and was covered up by a thick black cotton coat with a dangling buckle. Even though half of her dress was hidden under the coat, the crimson material sparkled in the dwindling daylight. The light glitter she had sprinkled on her cheeks also sparkled from her upper chest and neck. She looked incredible—more gorgeous than I had ever seen her. My suspicions had been joyfully confirmed that this was a date. I reached for her hand as we continued down the sidewalk and she interlaced her fingers with mine.

  Score!

  “How’s this?” she asked as we turned the next corner.

  I looked around and saw no oncoming cars in either direction and no visible people outside of their houses.

  “Here we go,” I said and squeezed her hand when we entered the fade.

  The transition was seamless. Our practice was paying off. It was only a moment before our entire neighborhood was gone and we were back in the grassy field near the highway that led straight to Provex City. We appeared halfway between the highway and the river—a nice safe distance from either one.

  Desiree removed her high heels and walked barefoot through the grass as we made our way toward one of the glass capsules positioned next to the highway. I was sure the Lornes did not have a habit of taking the monorail into the city, so I pulled my dress shirt sleeves down as far as I could, covering half my hands so all that showed was the tip of the wolf’s mighty jaws.

  When we stepped into the monorail car, we shouldn’t have been surprised to find it almost completely filled. We walked two cars back with no luck at finding any seats. A white-haired man who looked to be
in his forties complimented Desiree on being a lovely young lady and offered her his seat. He stood beside me, with the both of us holding onto the railing above our heads. I immediately noticed I was holding the rail with my right hand, my shirt sleeve falling up my arm, and switched hands before anyone saw.

  The monorail rocketed toward the city. At each stop passengers got on, but almost no one got off. Pretty soon, there was a line of people standing all the way down the aisle. Suddenly there was a man sharing the rail directly behind me. I glanced back, trying to make it look like I was glancing around the car, so I had a picture of who was standing so close to me. The man smiled and nodded, and I returned the courtesy before turning back around.

  I was feeling claustrophobic and paranoid. I couldn’t keep glancing at the people around me so I stared past Desiree and out the window. The sky had an orangey hue and was almost dark. It was getting late. My stomach was starting to growl, but I knew it would still be a while before we were walking through the city.

  As I looked out the window, my gaze sporadically turned to Desiree. I was in a clear position to look down her dress, which wasn’t all that low-cut. Her dress showed off more of her legs than cleavage, but the amount visible from where I stood was enough to get a rise. I adjusted my stance.

  Desiree gazed up toward me and smiled. There was no suspicion of how I was taking advantage of my vantage point in her expression, which relieved me immensely. Then she tapped the leg of the man who had given up his seat.

  “Excuse me. Can I use your phone?” she asked with her most innocent teenage girl voice.

  The white-haired man happily obliged and pulled his sleek Bluetooth headset out of his ear and handed it to her.

  She looked as confused as me when she realized he was handing her nothing else.

  “I’m sorry, but this one looks a little different than mine. Can you show me how to use it?” Desiree asked.

  Now the man looked confused. “It’s pretty standard. What do you have? A Leightman? Circle S? Apner?”

  “What kind is this?”

  “A Leightman 475.”

  “Yeah, I have a Leightman, too. It’s—it’s just a much older model.”

  I tried not to laugh as Desiree fumbled through the conversation.

  The man reached down to Desiree’s hand and pressed a small button on the side of the earpiece. A blue light flashed three times. “You’re ready to make a call. Think the number and call.”

  “Thank you so much,” she said and put the Bluetooth into her ear. Desiree pulled a ride ticket stub she must have kept from the P.C. Fair. There was a series of twelve numbers written on the back. She looked at the stub for a long time not saying a word.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Nothing’s happening.”

  How many people could she be calling in Provex City? My heart sank. Darius must have slipped her his number while I was in the bathroom or something. Had Desiree gotten dressed up for me or for him?

  “It’s ringing!” She almost leapt out of her chair.

  Desiree got a hold of Darius and promised to meet him at the café we’d met him in last time. Maybe my fortune would change and we wouldn’t be able to find the café again. But I wouldn’t hold my breath.

  We found the café like we had been there a hundred times—like it was beckoning us back for more overpriced coffee and peculiar pastries.

  Darius was already there when we arrived and waved to us from a table on the patio. I hopped the low rail, and Desiree huffed at my audacity to make her walk around and through the café alone.

  “How nice of you to join us,” I said, already seated with Darius at the table. We had shaken hands and I still couldn’t help but like the guy. I just really despised his interest in Desiree.

  Get a girl from your own plane!

  Darius stood up and helped Desiree with her seat. “You look quite opulent, Desiree.”

  “I do?”

  “You guys don’t say that where you come from?”

  “Sort of, just not quite the way you’re saying it.”

  “I see. How’s beautiful?” Darius asked.

  Desiree blushed. “I like that.”

  “What now?” I asked, making sure they remembered I was still here. “’Cause I’m starving.”

  “We want a night on the town!” Desiree exclaimed, stood up, and twirled to show off her shimmering dress. She shone like the skyscrapers.

  Darius looked skeptical, and possibly concerned, but he simply said, “You deserve a night on the town looking like that.”

  “You’re darn right I do,” Desiree said with a laugh. “Right, Oliver?”

  “You get what you want,” I said.

  I continued to keep my wolf-head tattoo hidden under my sleeve. I was curious—and nervous—as to how Darius would react to it since he would immediately know it was a fake. I guessed it wouldn’t sit well with his conspiracy theories, which made me think to show him with the sole intention of making him leave. But I just felt guiltier. Desiree seemed so excited to see him.

  We took a taxi farther into the city and Desiree allowed Darius to pay without bringing up my tattoo. I wasn’t exactly sure what she was waiting for, but I was also relieved.

  We were let out in front of a restaurant called La Dominga. A green carpet reached all the way out to the curb and led to the towering front door, flanked with Romanesque pillars. Carved vines lined with golden leaves spiraled up the pillars like leafy serpents.

  Darius guided us in and excused himself to use the bathroom before asking for a table. Desiree and I stood in the waiting area. We just looked at each other without saying a word, and then she reached for my hand.

  “Are you excited?” she asked, swinging my arm back and forth.

  I took a deep breath, made a quick decision, and exhaled. “Com’on,” I said and led her to the twenties-something hostess standing frozen behind a podium.

  “A table for two? Do you have a—” she began with a warm and welcoming tone of voice.

  “Three, actually. And I’m sorry but we don’t have a reservation,” I said as confidently as I could, pulled up my sleeve, and placed my right hand on the edge of the podium.

  6

  The Perks of Being a Lorne

  She looked down at my hand and immediately tensed up. “Oh—that’s absolutely no problem at all, Mr. Lorne.” She lowered her head and placed a finger on the Bluetooth earpiece she wore. “Lindi, where are you?” Then she turned her attention back to us. “Lindi will show you to your table momentarily. I’m so sorry for the delay. Can I put in an order for drinks while you wait?”

  “Umm…” No drinks came to mind.

  Then another girl who looked about the same age as the hostess ran up to the podium.

  “Good evening. My name is Lindi and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Let me show you to your private room.”

  Desiree and I both looked at each other and smiled. This was going to be a good night after all.

  Lindi guided us through the restaurant, through multiple rooms of boisterous and sophisticated looking patrons with some type of classical musician in each room, and stopped in front of a large hutch against the back wall. She pushed the copper knob on the glass door and the hutch sank into the wall.

  When the hutch finally stopped moving, it was far enough back so we could walk around it, behind the wall, and into a hidden room with a circular table and a wraparound leather booth. A large crystal chandelier glistened overhead and cast tiny diamond sparkles on the walls. There must have been a speaker somewhere in the wall because the soothing stringed music from the room on the other side of the wall was just as clear in here.

  “We have one more joining us,” Desiree told Lindi. “He looks our age and is wearing a white leather jacket. Can you show him to our room?”

  “It would be my pleasure. I will return with your guest shortly,” she said, handing us our menus. “And after that I will be
entering and exiting through here—” Lindi pointed to an almost opaquely tinted glass door on another wall. “—so my coming and going won’t disturb you.”

  When Lindi left through the hutch to find Darius, I let out a long sigh.

  Desiree slipped the coat off her shoulders, prominently showing off the full force of her dress, which had a band over her left shoulder. Her right was bare. The glitter I had seen on her cheeks and upper chest extended to her shoulders as well. On both arms dangled an assortment of silver bracelets, probably to divert attention away from the fact that she didn’t have a minor ID bracelet or DNA Brand.

  “There’re no prices on any of the food,” Desiree said, perusing the leather-bound menu.

  “I wonder if we got special menus.”

  As the back of the hutch began moving toward us, I noticed what was carved into it. A Lorne wolf head with two circles around it shone brightly from the notches in the hutch like there were LED lights behind it. We weren’t just in a VIP room; we were in a room kept specifically for Lorne family members. Hopefully, no one else would be joining us this evening.

  I nudged Desiree and pointed to the wolf-head carving on the back of the hutch.

  “That’s not good, is it?” she said softly.

  I shook my head, waiting for Darius and Lindi to pop their heads from around the hutch, but it could just as easily be another Lorne about to step into the room instead. Desiree’s hands were both occupied with holding the menu, so I nervously grabbed her thigh for some kind of contact. She flinched from my touch, but instead of moving my hand away, she laid one of her hands over mine. Her hand shook slightly. I took slight comfort in the fact that she was nervous, too. Who was going to enter the room? Our eyes could not be pried from the hutch.

  “I hope I am not disturbing you.” It was Lindi’s voice, and then she came zipping around the side of the hutch.