Chapter 4
It isn’t until Nan begins dragging me back to my room, so I can wash up for dinner, that it dawns on me that the door to the garden may have automatically locked on the other side. If I can’t find my way back to Mark, and if I can’t do it quickly, what will become of him?
I wring my hands as Nan accompanies me back to my room. I am worried. Surely they know where Mark is despite my impulsive action of shutting him outside. I had probably been wrong before when I had thought that he wasn’t in on the game. So, given that he probably is an actor, surely they won’t make him stay out there just to keep the game going. Then again, I wouldn’t put anything past the Instructor.
As we make our way back to my room, Nan continues to lecture me about my absence and my grimy appearance. I try to shut her words out as best I can, so that I can focus instead on the route I will need to take to get back to Mark. Still, when she utters the words, “I guess we’ll have to see what the Instructor has to say about your behavior,” I freeze inside. That is the last thing I need to worry about. Then suddenly, I hear myself asking, “Doesn’t he already know?”
Nan shoots a look of annoyance at me.
“As though he doesn’t have more important things to do than keep track of you all the time.” she blasts back.
Is that true? Could I really go unobserved for periods of time? That is a new thought for me. Could they lose track of me? Nan then presents me in front of my bedroom door.
“Get cleaned up fast. Don’t dawdle, and perhaps your dinner will be waiting for you when you’re done. Of course, I should really just make you eat as you are right now.” she chides me.
She waits for me to enter my room, which has an adjoining bathroom; then, she locks the door behind me. The first thing I look for upon entering the room is whether there is any sign that the removal of the grate had been noticed. I would have expected that it would have been replaced if it had been, but it wasn’t. Instead, it is still where I had placed it before I crawled into the vent — behind my bedpost. Quickly, I set to work putting the grate back on lest Nan become curious as to where I had acquired my filth.
Once I am satisfied that the grate is at least as presentable as it had been before, I set off to clean myself up as quickly as possible. I am very aware that the longer I take to rid myself of Nan’s attention, the longer that Mark would be forced to endure the frigid conditions outside. How long can he last before serious damage is done to him? Once again, I wonder whether they would really make him stay out there in these conditions just to keep the façade going. Before today, I would have said no. But now, as I said before, I wouldn’t put anything past these people. Still, part of me grows frustrated having to waste time going through the motions — as though we don’t all realize that this is a game. Maybe, for once, I should just confront Nan and the others. Maybe that would put a stop to it finally. Maybe that is what they are waiting for me to do.
I am finally clean. Though, my wet hair gives me no comfort as it only reminds me of Mark and what he must be going through. It seems to take an eternity for me to dry off my hair with a towel. Once I am dressed, I head as swiftly as I can to the door. There, I knock, so I can be released. Nan seems a bit surprised by my sudden reappearance. But then, she smirks.
“I guess you’re hungry after all.” she states with satisfaction.
We head for the kitchen.
The kitchen is as glowing, warm, and inviting as it always has been. The curved stone and wooden accents are homey. A pot boils cheerily in the fireplace. Yet, the scene is still steeped in an artificial air, which sucks some of the comfort from the room.
“I kept it warmed up.” she grouses. “Though, it would have probably served you better if I hadn’t.”
Nan gives me a nice, warm bowl of soup, some buttered bread, and an orange.
“Thank you.” I utter with sincerity.
She nods grudgingly then turns away from me.
I watch her work out of the corner of my eye. She doesn’t appear to be watching me. I then look at the offerings and think of Mark. I am tempted to sneak away food from my plate for him. Since Nan has never given me permission to take food away with me, I figure the easiest item that I could sneak away with would be a portion of the bread. I manage to lay claim to the bread, but as I reach my hand forward with further sneaky intent, I freeze. No, this situation can’t be trusted. I’m still not completely sure what to make of this situation with Mark yet. If I’m caught, and Mark isn’t an actor after all, then the Instructor could be told about him. And the Instructor is probably around by now and able to be told. Certainly, Nan would probably wonder where the orange peels and the soup bowl went.
Now, she had never searched my person for confiscated food before. Surely, the fact that I had something to hide now wouldn’t cause her to start searching me. Still, the bread will have to do. She won’t have cause to look for the bread.
Then, I get to thinking about the fact that I haven’t tried to sneak out food before. Why hadn’t I? Am I really that subject to Nan’s approval? That thought troubles me, for the truth is it had bothered me when she had turned on me seemingly overnight. I stiffen.
“May I leave now?” I ask her in a cool tone of voice.
I look up into her eyes as she turns toward me. She shrugs off her indifference.
“Suit yourself.” she manages, turning her back on me once more. “Just make sure you get that work done that the Instructor left for you in the library …”
I get up from my place and head for the door. I try to shrug off my feelings as easily as Nan had hers, but I find it is more difficult for me. I am grateful for one thing at least. I am, for once, getting off easy. This is particularly fortunate as I have something very important to do. My pace quickens as I recall that Mark was last seen outside. I dread the thought of what state he may be in if he had remained where I had left him.
I am a bit worried that I will have trouble retracing my steps back to the outside garden. After all, I had a lot of difficulty tracing my way back towards my room. Indeed, I might have still been looking for my room if Nan hadn’t tracked me down.
But it turns out returning to the garden entrance isn’t as difficult as I feared it would be. It makes sense. After all, it had been my journeying through the airshaft that had caused me to become so disoriented. Still, I breathe a sigh of relief when I recognize the glass doors in front of me. It is kind of eerie, though. There is now an intense darkness on the other side of the panes, and a sort of fog has rolled in just inches beyond, which clouds the glass. I fear that death has come in. I, therefore, rush forward and clutch at the door handle.
The first sound I hear as I breach the seal of the door is a rush of air. Then, there is silence, as though the air outside is holding its breath. Finally, I am struck by how truly cold it is outside. I immediately feel panic at this realization. How much time has elapsed since I was last here? Am I about to come upon a dead body, frozen? And what if Mark is still alive but dying? How would I be able to help him? I know I can’t afford to think like this; I simply don’t have the time. I will have to figure out a plan once I know what I am up against.
My first instinct is to head outside immediately to look for Mark. But fortunately, it dawns on me that the door may close behind me; then, we’d both be trapped out there. So, I first try calling out to Mark, even though I am afraid to call out too loudly lest it attract the attention of the wrong person. The level of volume I am comfortable with, however, doesn’t seem to produce any results. I decide I will have to venture outside after all.
And still, I know I will have to find a way to wedge the door open before I proceed. But how? I look around me. Eventually, I spy a part of a wooden molding that has started to pull away from a nearby doorframe. Perhaps if I can rip away part of the aging strip, I can use it to keep the door ajar. I figure it is worth a try. As I walk towards the wooden piece, I notice that the door to the outside has started to slide shut as the wind blows in. I am very grateful at this point that I hadn’t gone outside before securing the door! Who knows when they would have found me!
I kick the wooden wedge underneath the door to make the fit more secure. I am less concerned at this point about how I will get the wood back out than I am about insuring it won’t come loose. Once I am satisfied that the door is set, and that it would take someone a lot of time and energy, as well as quite a bit of noise, to free it, I go ahead and venture out.
I am nearly breathless as I enter the space where I last saw Mark. I hunch down in order to block out some of the bitter chill, but I still found myself shivering anyway. I am petrified that I will be too late, and he won’t be there … at least, not alive. I then wonder whether people think that if they can conquer winter they can conquer death itself.
I scan the area for Mark. As I look around me, my fears seem to be realized. A cold winter breeze is blowing snow over the only remaining sign that he’d ever been there: his footprints. Apparently, enough time has passed that the imprints of his footfall have been partially buried. And yet, since traces of Mark’s path still linger I am fortunately able to track him to a distinguished-looking tree dead center in the garden. It is a tall, deciduous tree with many limbs branching out into the sky; the leaves had fallen long ago.
“Mark!” I call out, though my voice remains restrained.
I hold my breath for a moment. But then, relief sweeps over me as I see him step out from behind the frosted tree. Apparently, he had been hiding himself there. Mark seems a bit taken aback by my reaction to him. He couldn’t possibly understand what his unexpected appearance means to me.
“Let’s get you inside!” I insist.
I take his hand and begin pulling him toward the door. Once we get back inside, the moment swiftly becomes awkward. So, I decide to present him with the bread I got for him.
“Here.” I tell him. Mark just stares at the bread for the longest time. Therefore, I look at the bread with a bit more of a critical eye.
“It’s not much.” I conclude. “But I can get more later … maybe.”
“Thank you.” he finally says.
For the first time I notice that both his voice and his hands are shaking.
“Are you all right?” I wonder, suddenly filled with concern.
“I’m fine.” he sniffs.
“Of course, what am I thinking? It is bitterly cold.” I pause. “I should take you to my room …” I say without thinking it through. He looks at me questioningly. That seems to get him thinking.
“No,” he declines before I could even process the offer myself. “I’ve come too far to risk being caught now.” he seems to say this mostly to himself.
I look at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he means by that. I furrow my brow.
“I don’t know what to do with you then …” I admit.
He says nothing. Why on earth would he even want to stay out here in this hallway under these circumstances? Maybe he is wanting to leave the complex entirely and is just having a difficult time letting me know.
“Are you wanting to go — to leave this place?” I question him.
He raises his head and looks at me quizzically.
“No.”
“I guess there isn’t really any place to go this time of year.” I allow. “I don’t know how you even managed to get here …”
“No, I mean, I have business here.” he informs me.
“Business? What business? What are you s doing here?”
Then, he suddenly looks off into the distance. Now I am thoroughly confused. What is with this guy? Mark seems as though he is trying to avoid being candid with me. I don’t appreciate that. I am about to turn away; I don’t need this.
“I could ask the same thing of you.”
His voice is hoarse. It breaks apart — unsteadily stopping and starting. The rawness of his tone intrigues me. It is different … somehow.”
“How do you mean?” I ask him. “Where would I go?”
He considers me for a moment.
“You’re right. There are just forest patches and expanses of snow beyond — not to mention the wild beasts. I suppose you’re right.” he backtracks. “There really is nowhere to go.” He pauses. “Then again, perhaps once my business is done here I can take you with me.”
I blink.
“Is this some sort of game?” I ask myself.
He says nothing more, and it becomes clear he doesn’t intend to. The subject is dropped, so I decide not to think on it anymore.
“Anyway, we still have to find somewhere to put you. Even though Nan’s not around anymore … at least I don’t think so …”
“Nan?”
“The housekeeper. The woman from before …” I trail off again. “Do you want me to go get her — go get someone to help you?”
“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
I consider his words in a mood of frustration.
“I need access.” he suddenly informs me. It is almost as though he can tell I am beginning to mistrust him. “Can you give me that without anyone knowing?”
“I — I don’t know.” I admit.
“Please … I’m looking for someone.”
His eyes are pleading; he seems earnest.
“I could look for you … but it is a large space.”
Mark doesn’t seem to like the idea of my searching around.
“Is the offer for me to hide out still good?”
I hesitate. It seems clear that Mark has no intention of just hiding out. He is going to look for someone — assuming that is even true. And f it is true, I am sympathetic. However, how can I risk getting into trouble for a stranger? I had lost what little freedom I had long before.
“Can I trust you?” I ask him. “If I can find a spot to hide you, will you stay there? I will help you look for your person, but you can’t wander around on your own.”
He just looks at me for a moment. Then, he finally nods.
“Of course. I can’t expect you to risk yourself.”
“Good.”
I am relieved that he seems to understand my position. I just hope I can really trust him. “Speaking of which, I have to go. They’ll come looking for me.”
I cast my eyes back to the door. It is still open at this point.
“You can wait in the hall outside this door for now … until I can come back. That way, if anyone shows up, you can hide out there.”
“All right.” he agrees.
“I’ll try to come back this evening. I just hope they don’t lock me in my room … What?”
He has an odd look on his face.
“Nothing.” he responds. “I’ll wait for you.”
I smile weakly. I then head to the door in order to remove the wooden slab, so it can close again. As I near the door, it strikes me how truly cold it is out there. I guess Mark’s presence had made me forget that. But then, I conceive of another problem. Not only am I risking my health by spending time in this inclement weather, I am also risking detection by Nan. All she would have to do is look at my flushed face to figure out that I was outside. I have to warm up quickly before I go to the library. I can’t risk running into Nan before I rid myself of all the traces of the cold.
After I dislodge the wood, I begin rubbing my hands together. Then, I use the heat I generate to warm my face.
I sigh. This is going to take a while. It is hard to stand still and wait. I am filled with adrenaline. Part of me wants to rush to the library to get my obligation there over with, but I know somehow this impulse is just a moment of immaturity.
I have to wait until I warm up. That is when it occurs to me, if I need a cover story, why not make it true? I could go exploring around. No one said I couldn’t. Nan wouldn’t like it and most likely disapprove, but what difference would that make? All right, it does bother me, but it can’t be helped. I’d rather she think I am immature than have her find out about Mark.
Copyright © Jennifer Alice Chandler 2020
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