《The Motel》


 Chapter 1 Faye: A Motel Away

    1


    Another occupant moved out from the motel. They let out all about the famous City of Hope down southwest. There were pamphlets, catering to the lover of change, innovation and dreams. She bought her child with her, but left before telling the husband.


    It¡¯s a long way there, they would need to take on an empty road that cut straight into the belly of a wheatfield wasteland, then cross the long bridge that stood above the great river; it¡¯s way too far to reach with just walking, it will probably take her over one month to reach, if she told her husband about the plan, there is no doubt he would¡¯ve stopped her.


    But instead, she talked with Faye that decisive day and Faye was barely listening, and when they asked for input, Faye thought it was another nothings and dreams and so offhandedly encouraged her.


    That night the husband was greeted by a dark empty room. Faye lay awoke, she stared at a celling so familiar to her, as the moonlit sky painted itself on the curtain of her room and sometimes sketched itself, through a small slit of a parting curtain, she lay on the floor and felt a deep regret as the sound of a wailing husband crept beyond the plywood wall.


    The next morning, the wailing stopped.


    Silence and winds that brooded among the nodding leaves is audible. Limbs of trees knocked against the thin sheet of glass woke Faye up with a throbbing headache, she massaged her forehead and sat upright.


    She stared outside from the small open slit of a curtain and saw a cloudy grey sky, there¡¯s a wavelike pattern of which the sun tries its best to penetrate, yet failed, leaving a grey tint that submerged the world yet again.


    She stood up, her messy white t-shirt with bell sleeve flowed limply down her shoulder, her brown palazzo pants reached the floor from her waist. She traversed her room and reached the doorknob then turned it and pushed it and opened the world outside.


    Winds blew against her face and rustled her waist long messy hair. The chilly air blew through the pony wall and carried with it the smell of earth and dead leaves. The long terrace stretched perpendicularly with ten rooms lined up on its length. Above the pony wall, nailed into the roofs are metal wires and hanging from it are clean laundries, it was Faye¡¯s.


    Looking out, the view was high as this is the second floor, there was yellow stretch of wheatfield wasteland, overgrown and fallowed all the way towards the horizon, then stopped abruptly as if consumed by the greying clouds. And nearby, just before the wheatfields started, is a signpost 2 floor high that said ¡°Motel¡±


    This L shaped building is, of course, a Motel. Two floors with 10 rooms each. Located on an empty highway in the middle of a wheat field wasteland, 12KM from civilization. On the back of the building, there are water tank and radio tower. And outside of the first floor is a parking lot, empty, since there is hardly anyone, which isn¡¯t a public service or merchant, that uses vehicle ever since the rapture happens. Trains and public transport are still common. Faye herself uses bicycle that is currently parked as the sole vehicle on this motel.


    She breathed in deeply, pondered something, then moved her legs. With worried expression, she decided to check on her neighbours. She knocks on the room beside her own, there is no answer. But there is life on the other side of this door, she could feel it, the husband is still in there. She wavered for a moment, but decided to leave him alone, yet there is a twinge in her heart.


    She walked down the hallway, and continued the daily pilgrimage that she had formed. Knocking on door after door, hoping for a small change, she listened intently to the other side while grasses and wheat mingled with winds behind her. Her lone footsteps resounded rhythmically, decorating the artful orchestra composed by the wind.


    She continued on, the second floor only has two occupants left, herself and the husband. With this floor finished, she walked down the stairs. As light raindrops fall, the earth lets out a chill, and smelt even thicker. The winds intensified, and carried dust, leaves with weak stems and trickle of water. As her footsteps reached the first floor, dots of wet concrete covered the empty parking lot, and the overgrown wheatfields danced with the wind.


    She continued knocking on door. And then after no more than 4 rooms, she felt yet another life on the other side of the cold door. Her face relaxed, she has guiltily taken comfort on the door of this room; sometimes she would just sit with her back pressed against this exact door. Taking in the warmth that overflowed. She imagined the lives they lived beyond the door, imagined the faces they made and the memories they held, and then she would imagine the life they lived before then. But right now, she contented herself with knocking and continued down the terrace of the first floor. As the rain mingles with wheat and puddles formed, as the ground splattered and the earth became muddy, the air got colder and Faye is filled with unease.


    Arriving at the last door, she had reached the former owner¡¯s room. The empty room is located right beside the business room that is used for radio and talks with merchant. Faye took a moment to remember, fondly, about the first time she discovered this motel.


    She was a lost cause back then, after her sister¡¯s death, she closed herself off of the world. She lived in the city north of here then, she remembered languishing for days until deciding it was time for her to find something worth living, she looked for a way to close of that chapter of life and walked south, directionless. And so, she walked and never turned back ever since, 12KM on foot isn¡¯t that far of a distance when you¡¯re contemplating something. She remembered the overgrown wheat and how it stretched its arms towards the unwilling single dusty road that cut directly through the fields of light yellow.


    As she walked, she saw something beyond the yellow leaves, a single building stood with a rusty sign that says The Motel, and underneath it is ¡°Open Vacancy¡±. So, Faye walked towards it and meet The Owner, her name is Lizzie, she welcomed Faye with open arms and gave her a place for free, then there is a man that stood closely to her, a big and scary looking man that rarely talk. His name is Kirsten, he¡¯s Lizzie¡¯s lover. The both of them always smiled and thus the motel is a really bright and happy place.


    And then Faye stood still. As her memories continues to trickle, she remembered the death of Kirsten, and how Lizzie kept her smile as she struggled forth, but then one night when her friend Leah, talked with her behind closed doors and left. Her smile vanished just moment before she left. And then the next day she was no more. Faye wondered what they have talked that night.


    And then, a single knock, meant to not leave a sound. Touched the freezingly cold door, without life on the other side. Faye breathed in the wet chilly air, felt the tingle of anxiety dotting her lungs and walked away.


    The rain drummed upon the dusty streets, what was once mere drizzle is now an endless outpour. With every gust of cold winds, Faye¡¯s breath quickened, her eyes darted from one object to another, and every breath had a small quantity of tingle. Memories of that day three years ago seemed fresh on her mind, replaying one scene after another, of broken vase, of apologies, and of waiting.


    She walked quickly back towards Room 6 and closed her eyes. Faye breathed in, and leaned her back on the cold iron door. The warmth is present but far away, maybe on their bed maybe sitting alone, maybe reading books. The rain continued on uncaringly, the road is dark and without any light source. You can¡¯t even see past 10 meters before sheets of rains greyed the world out.


    Faye psyched herself and walked her trembling legs up the stairs. She took the laundry drenched by rain back into the red container where she would air it out again tomorrow. Her hands wet by the splattering rain touched the cold metal wires and coldness pierced her skin. The smell of clean laundries and dusty earth flew past. From the second floor she saw the mud glistens and the road stretch toward empty greyness. She walked weakly towards the husband¡¯s door, fingers tracing the wall. Then at last her fingers wet touched the cold iron door, she winced then called out from outside.


    ¡°John! Would you please get out? It¡¯s pouring out here!¡± The door rustled; Faye could feel life inching close.


    Then a sound of lock clicking. The door slides a little and opened, John¡¯s eye peeked out and with it, all of its sorrow. Faye felt guilt surging her chest.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry John, you know how it is with me and rains¡± Faye pleaded.


    John¡¯s saddened eyes inspected her then he replied ¡°Alright¡±, his voice hoarse from wailing. And the door closed, Faye sat with her back leaning on the door. The cold floor seemed to possess with it loneliness. She breathed in deeply, then counted to five, and only then did she breathe out.


    As she waited, Faye thought on how to apologize for maybe being the cause of his family¡¯s fragmentation, she thought and thought, and sure enough the guilt surged even higher, Faye thought that the rains are plenty terrible without negative thought and so she found no answer. Faye felt John approaching so she lifted her back and stood up. John opened the door and walked out.


    John walked, in front of Faye his back hunched over and seemed to be carrying something heavy. She followed with her palms firmly pressed against the walls, and her shaky legs followed him. At the stairs she crouched and walked in small steps, then John seemed to notices and helped her down.


    At the bottom of the stairs, Faye walked towards Room 6, and sat with her back against the door. John goes into the business room and walked back out with one white umbrella.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go ahead and check the water filter¡±


    ¡°John¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Would you check the Radio tower too?¡± Faye folded her knees and hugged it ¡°Yesterday I was listening to music when the static cuts in, think the wind blew a bit too hard on it¡±


    ¡°Alright¡±


    Faye stared toward the empty parking lot and the white mist that seemed to blanket it. The wet concrete seemed to be in deeper colour than it was dry, the water glistened and small layer flowed down towards the mud. The road in front of the motel stretched perpendicularly and overgrown wheats stood pushed by the rain and held up by the stems. Water and mist mingled between the stems and the leaves. Beetles and millipedes moved restlessly looking for shelter and safe places. Pebbles nudged by the falling water moved ever so slowly then jumped when a huge drop of water hits it. A frog stretched its legs and sang beautifully it jumped the leaves moved under its weight, he stared intently at the red beetle and waited.


    ¡°The damn thing is broken¡± John came back, the umbrella dripped its water for it cannot absorb it onto the floor. Puddles formed and John coughed. ¡°The water filter is also in an awful shape. Might need to buy a new one¡±


    Silence took the wheel, John took the silence as worry and promptly asked her


    ¡°Think we¡¯ve got enough money?¡±


    She raised her head and smiled at John ¡°We¡¯ve got enough to go on for years if it¡¯s just the three of us¡±


    John then averted his eyes and stared at Room 6, his expression unreadable ¡°Three of us, huh?¡±


    Faye noticed this, so she said ¡°Alright John, you can rest easy today. I¡¯ll go to the city and buy the things we needed. I¡¯ve got the list ready too yesterday. Was cataloguing our inventory¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Doubly sure¡± she raised her trembling fist and make a thumbs up.


    His face unsure but seemed relieved ¡°If you say so then¡± he walked up the stairs, leaving traces of wet concrete that seemed a colour darker than the surrounding. Then Faye heard his wet footsteps upstairs and the creaking of door and the shutting of one.


    Faye wondered the changes a place could have after three years. Uneasiness crept into her soul. Having expectation of change is a terrible thing for it often clashes with a different more grounded reality, expectation of unchanging world however, is worse as the world always move forward regardless of how much she wanted it to stay the same. Time is an uncaring constant, Faye tried to remember, the places she left, remembering the graves and the dead leaves. Memories, as it were, is like a wet paintbrush where the sharp edges make way to a blurry and melting colours.


    Faye sat in contemplation, in silence at first. Staring at the white mist overlaying the parking lot. Hard, cold, and heavy is the rain. Torrents of water punching and screaming unto the hard drenched concrete, sending bits of dust flying that metamorphosized into dust and dirt. It scattered across the wall of the motel, brown stained. The leaves danced, and droplets of water formed on the pointy ends. The grasses sang, brooding amongst the cold white mist as the stems stood, defiled by muds. Every breath carries with it cold dampness, fog began to form as coldness sets in. Behind her is another cold lifeless door, sheltering a warmth so unbounded, a life. Silence, nothing but the sounds of rain pummelling the lifeless roof, the dusty roads, the muddy fields, and the sole bicycle. Faye ventured a talk.


    ¡°The family left him yesterday¡±


    Another stretch of silence, but she felt the warmth inching closer


    ¡°I felt¡­ guilt, maybe I caused his sorrows¡±


    At last, the cold lifeless door is now filled with warmth, and Faye found companionship in the sound of another¡¯s breath, and their beating of heart.


    ¡°He wailed you know. You might have heard him last night¡±


    A nod, imperceptible but present.


    ¡°Wondering about it won¡¯t do me good. But he looked so hopeless I don¡¯t know what to do anymore, worrying is the mood of the day.¡±


    The rain beats faster, torrents of water fell on the lone bicycle, the mud washed away, and born anew, splattered. Breathing carries with it a small tingle, of excitement, of sorrow, or maybe that¡¯s just how it is when the air mingles with water.


    ¡°When at last, another left. I worry, I might be the last to stay, and when that moment comes, will these memories of them enough to ward off my fear? I¡¯m afraid, when I forget, when memories of those beloved got washed away, I would doubt it even happen, that it just another dream of mine, and all that is left is just the aftertaste of a happy memories. The edges blur and emotions melted. And the decisions I will make is shaped by things I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    The rain continues its outpour, without signs of stopping. And the warmth shifted comfortingly.


    2


    The rain stopped as the sky reached its afternoon light. Roads of wet concrete shimmered with bright sunlight as layers of light broke through the parting clouds. And on the ground, the light crept into the expanse of wheat fields that bristled and brushed as the wind blew past them breaking weak stems and carrying dead leaves along its current. The warmth mingled among the leaves and stems, then greeted the dew that hung on short grasses. Then upon reaching the soaked earth it melded with damp mud and granted the unborn seeds its warm embrace.


    The wheel of a bicycle turned and left its mark on the concrete road. Trembling and hissing as the earth slides below it. Faye¡¯s hair whipped and flowed as bicycle flew faster than wind. It blew backwards, sweat beaded on her forehead and followed the currents of wind; traced itself back towards the end of her hairs then formed dew and flew whizzling towards the air. The conversation ended one-sidedly. Faye complained and laughed all by herself, that¡¯s how it always went. But the occupant listened nonetheless, and Faye found comfort in that. She has always tried to make the story sounded interesting to the listener; when she felt the other side getting bored, she would switch to another topic while keeping the mood intact then referencing the old one as it goes. If that wasn¡¯t enough, she mixed it up the added little flavour of exaggeration and hyperbole. Faye have been doing this for three years, she couldn¡¯t remember when exactly but it was probably just a week or two after she got a here. At first, she was just curious and a little tired after helping Kirsten on the fields, she sat with her back towards the room and just sat there in silence. After a while she talked to herself, and felt something moved, and so she consciously talked loud enough to be heard from the other side of a wall. And after a while, the occupant approached the door and listened. But they would just listen and not a word ever leaves the door.


    Faye passed a clearing on the fields. Circle of old tires are placed in a circular pattern, 20 in total. It is divided into two; one small circle and a larger one that circled the former. In the middle is a huge pile of old scorched firewood. The clearing is a place of memories. A good one, the place was used for celebrations. One time Kirsten caught a huge deer. Then, at night all the occupants of the motel got together and burned a huge bonfire and skin the deer, they prepared the meat and organs, separated the meat from the thighbone, wrapped it in fat and roasted it. Jokes flew across the blunted tires and laugh bellowed in response. Faye sat beside John¡¯s kid, John with his wife and Lizzie with Kirsten, then Leah, the scientist just goes around and talked, bringing everyone together. Faye smiled in memories, bitter ends that followed them did little to sour the memories.


    The bike continued on. The puddle on the road reflected clouds and the blue sky, the faraway white clouds sketched shadows on itself, big brushes of broken stemmed wheat fell on the concrete roads. Silence stretched for a long time, where only the sound of turning wheat and the tikling sound of chain on gears mixes with the passing wind. Faye hummed as the city revealed itself on the horizon. Excitement and unease filled her soul.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    3


    The city is divided into five districts and connected by one entertainment centre; one for food production, another for clothing, residential, craftsman, and lastly governmental area. The name doesn¡¯t dictate what goes in a particular district as much as it dictates the overall theme for that area, for example there is a school in the residential district. Every district has their own embassy in another and also the governmental district is overarching and their branch dotted the whole city regardless of the district theme. Its purpose ranges from simple public services, taxation, to law enforcement.


    Faye parked her bicycle on a parking lot in the residential district. The scenery of wheatfields changed into a high-rise apartment complexes. Trees dotted itself along the stretching roads and dead leaves covered the sidewalks. Grey apartment complexes that stretched towards the sky is all uniform in height. On the many walls of gates and buildings peeked a black smooth surface of a concrete wall from their thin layer of stained white paint that peeled from the passing rain. Occasional trees looked so old that is started withering, some doesn¡¯t even have leaves. New sprouts of plants stood above the dark brown earth. Fallen leaves hovered above puddles and created small waves of disturbance that distorted light. The iron gates and signs rusted under the passages of times, its hard edges crept and consumed the old iron. The memories of smell are a zealot bringer of past, and Faye breathed in the scent of leaves, of paint, of dust, of wet earth, of mud, of grasses, and of concrete, all of which hides with it distinct memories.


    Faye and her sister lived in one of those complexes along with their parents. Their mother is an immigrant from a city far away and their father is a factory worker. They met on the entertainment district, on a theatre; their father booked a ticket to see a movie and their mom also went the same day. They took a seat five removed from each other. On that day the theatre is in its lazy day, so the place was nearly empty. The movie starts, the clip starts rolling. One second after another the pictures began to move, though it was the same wall and the same story, two different people savoured it, and began to form their own different opinions. After the credits rolled, and the movie ended, they left their seats, one grumbling to themselves, and another with a deep smile on their face. None of them noticed each other and so none of them spoke a word.


    Then one day, they both took the same road, saw the same scenery of river and trees. They said their greetings and began their exchanges. It was a purely business meetings. Thinly veiled disagreements flew in the air, flowing out of each other¡¯s mouth. The argument began to get heated and in that moment the both of them are their own worst enemies. They saw each other¡¯s flaw and used it to their own argument¡¯s advantage. What was once a professional discourse metamorphosizie into a personal attack. For the both of them, this was their first experience, none of them have the needed patience and understanding to calm their opposites. As sparks began to flew, their talks settled into a long uncomfortable silence. It stretched for hours, they shook hands and left. Grumbling to themselves.


    Not even a week has passed when they saw each other again on the theatre, now no longer a stranger. A sworn enemy perhaps, but not a stranger nonetheless. They booked a seat, located as far removed from each other as possible. When passing the door, they bumped each other¡¯s shoulder and scoffed. While the movie played, and the story unfolded; their mind thinks of each other, thinking of the perfect insult. The movie ended, and neither of them retained any memories of the characters nor the story. One thing was for sure, they despised the movie.


    Then they walked home, on the same roads, the same district, and the same steps. At first there was silence, yet sparks flew out of thin air. Then conversation began to bubble, then their conversation devolved into barrage of insults. Hours passed until they emptied their reservoir of hateful remarks. A calming silence and cold winds descend, blowing against their face, some flew through their ribs, entered their lungs and mingled with their soul. Leaves got carried by the wind, and dust followed through. Their clothes flapped on their skin like flags on a pole, they squinted until the dust settled. None of them knew when, but a small friendly conversation began to emerge, and a pleasant atmosphere descended. When they reached their own places, they felt like a new world is opened. They knew each other¡¯s flaw yet enjoyed their company, next time they met even insults started to sound like a jab among friends. They knew each other better than anybody else in the world, and even contradicting opinion melted into one coherent narrative.


    4


    By the evening, the sun began to dye the clouds its tranquil orange and the puddles have dried leaving wet patches of concrete and earth. The shadows are tinted with the colour of a waning sun and the trees sung a sleepy song as winds mingled with their branches. Some of the leaves followed the currents of wind and flew below the orange skies, casting weak shadows on the ground below it. Voices of men and women melted into an incoherent note, stalls of street foods stood idly, above it on their tarpaulin roofing is a pooling of water and leaves.


    The city centre is a circular shaped road that surrounded a giant park. On its edges are theatres, music stadium, museum, and specialized stores of different items. There were many people, though not too much to be called crowds. Lovers held each other¡¯s arms, lone adults and also teenager enjoyed their walks, and then there were kids playing with each other. Dead leaves flew, swept by a volunteer¡¯s broom that swung rhythmically creating a brushing sound. Smokes flew in the air, and the smell of a sizzling fat mixed with the scent of earth and leaves.


    The filter is sold through the mall that stood gallantly beside the theatre. Its walls are washed by the setting sun and the neon lamps blinked to life. Faye stared at her list of items and thought for a little while. She then decided to make an appointment with the mechanic via the postman office before entering the mall as it is the only one which isn¡¯t available inside.


    The mall is a really huge place, may floors and booths. The most popular section is the clothing. Faye walked around the many floored mall and her legs daintily moved above the marble floor. With sparkling eyes, she goes through her list of items. She bought foods then guiltily bought clothes. Just a little she told herself, is fine. Asking around it seemed that the water filter is on the fourth floor, so Faye went down one floor after she purchased a meat from the butcher. The city is not much too different but some of its elements changed, Faye supposed that it retained what makes it familiar and innovated in a way that doesn¡¯t really disturb the occupants.


    Faye arrived at the fourth floor and saw people wondering about, her bags of groceries are heavy, and she hugged it tightly so it doesn¡¯t fall when she bumped into another. She looked around, and the groceries swung, and then she finally found it. The booth is lit by an orange light that radiated comfort, contrasting it with the surrounding white florescent lamps. The booth is a mess, many different tools hanged on the wall and some strewn about the grounds. On the back of the booth hanged many different blueprints that the owner made. And then she found someone she recognizes. He waved his calloused hand when his deep blue eyes noticed her. His teeth showed through the wide smile that lit his face. White beards and messy greying hair atop of a muscular body. He looked almost like a grizzly bear. He wore green patterned shirt that is overlaid by grey overall and beige apron. On his sun-burnt face is an aviation goggle to protect his eyes when soldering. His name is Cal.


    ¡°Faye! Lon¡¯ time no seein¡¯¡± His excited and surprised mouth shouted, the hoarse voice echoed on the surrounding floor. The crowd turned their heads, glanced, then promptly forget.


    ¡°Missed me?¡± Faye replied walking closer to the booth, her hands carried the groceries.


    ¡°Ha-ha, I¡¯d miss anyone ¡®f a week pass¡¯d ¡®thout me seein¡¯ their face¡± He coughed then continued ¡°S¡¯pose John ain¡¯t comin¡¯ t¡¯day. Yer here fer the water filter?¡±


    ¡°Yep, and about John¡­ well, he¡¯s all gloomy today. Family left him down the south¡±


    Cal heaved a deep sigh ¡°That sucked¡± then he sadly stared at Faye ¡°Ye shouldnve left ¡®im alone there, John¡¯s got a problem with bein¡¯ lonely¡± he rustled his hair.


    Cal walked back towards the left side of the room and looked around the hanging tools, his steps nudged the tools that was on the floor every now and then. He looked around the wall and opened a cabinet, then he made a puzzled face. He then turned towards the right side and looked around.


    Cal said while looking around ¡°Southern city huh? ¡®member Sam? Well he¡¯s there workin¡¯ and livin¡¯. Left just two years ago¡± his trained hands moved around the tools. ¡°Told me how far it is on the letter, 400 miles, across the great river, and there¡¯s only small towns dotted along the roads¡± His face smiled bitterly ¡°John¡¯s defini¡¯ly gointa disagree, he¡¯d be sane to do so. Dunno what¡¯s gotten into Angie¡± he paused and sighed, a small hint of sadness crept up in his face ¡°John¡¯s kid is only 14 isn¡¯t he? Bringin¡¯ a child on a long journey on foot like that¡­¡±. Cal stopped talking and moved around the pile of tools, then he opened a cabinet that was buried within the old utilities, he perked up and took out a water filter.


    ¡°Well, wouldye looka that!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°¡¯ere¡¯s yer water filter. Apologies fer takin¡¯ so long. Place¡¯s kinda messy right now¡± Cal smiled, then tilted his head. His eyes rounded and a mischievous smile overtook his current one ¡°Mary! Look, guess who¡¯s here!¡± He waved, smiling at the unexpected reunion. While Faye froze at the mention of that name.


    5


    Faye and Mary go a long way back. They were neighbour once. When they were kids their parents are very close friends, so they often came over and then Faye and Mary would play together. It¡¯s a very natural thing to happen, just as dandelion seeds follow the direction of wind, children would live according to their guardian¡¯s direction. They¡¯d talk about anything their childish mind can conceive, about dreams, about that boy on the other side of the streets about weird singing voice in the night. They¡¯d play and planned for mischief, plot schemes to get more allowance, finding way to sneak into theatre, and knit two clothes so they stick together and then it would definitely disturb their parents. They laughed about it inside their secret bases under the secret trees.


    Mary differed from Faye, and while she has the tendency of being childish, her biggest goal in life is to be adult. She puts all her efforts to reach her own image of adults, which as we¡¯ve all once experienced, was much too idealistic. She would prop her walks, imitating random adults she saw, trying on mature speech pattern that sounded comical to the ear of normal person, and finally she would insist on being the older sister. She saw Faye as her helpless little sister, and when Faye beaten her in something she would sulk for days, and when that period is over and she missed Faye, she would puff out her chest and feign confidence until she felt that she has regained her respect. She drew up schemes and think up ideas, then she would drag Faye into it and when they failed, she took all responsibilities, take all the blame and protected Faye from the angry adults.


    And then one day it happened, a child was born. Faye has a little sister their parents overjoyed and Faye smiled, she did not notice the distant confused look Mary has. She felt defeated, but this time by a force she doesn¡¯t understand and cannot interfere with. No matter how hard she tried she wouldn¡¯t be able to change the outcome or how it all came to be. She cannot believe how Faye became something she has always dreamed to be.


    The next day her parents visited Faye¡¯s and she also have to come over. She stood on one corner of the room, then tried to act like she always has, but her hands are trembling and she cannot stop it. She feigned confidence and put on a mature speech pattern, she puts her all, the trainings and practices she has, the sleepless night that she spent studying, she did it all, she pulled up a front of which its construction is her life¡¯s work. Mary asked Faye for a walk, she joked and laughed they talked and talked, yet a distance has suddenly opened up. They reached the edges of town; the wheat field wasteland opens up in front of them. Wind blew and the wheat whipped and rustled, formed waves of yellow oceans of wheats that sang an ode to the dry leaves that followed the current of winds. Mary felt the winds hitting her cheeks, her voice cracked, she stopped talking. Trying to breathe only heightened the pain. Tears flowed and the dam broke, she sobbed as rivers formed on her wet cheeks, the water dripped and unborn seeds absorbed it, her face scrunched she tried to stop it but it is in vain, hiccups broke the unbroken string of sadness into chunks. Faye stood; she has stolen a dream that Mary puts her all into achieving. Mary sobbed, as Faye watched how the dead leaves followed the currents of the cold uncaring winds


    6


    The clash of expectation and reality could make even siblings a stranger. Faye and Mary stood for an uncomfortable length of silence. The air was thick, and Cal was debating whether to cut it with his knife. The Mary in front of her differed from her image; the once long hair is now a shoulder length bob, her pointy chin has a small scar on it, and her well-shaped nose is a little crooked to the side. Faye¡¯s image overlaid the Mary in front of her and melted together painlessly. Mary regarded Faye closely. Her images of Faye clashes with the physical form that stood in front of her. Her world once again clashed with reality, the past and the present melted. Her mouth opened and closed, feeling out the distance that has opened up between them.


    Mary finally broke the silence ¡°Faye¡­ uh, you looked different¡±


    ¡°Broodier¡±


    ¡°I guess so yeah¡±


    ¡°It has been a long time, you¡¯ve changed also, I think¡±


    They smiled and the air melted and regained its fluidity. Cal lets out a relieved sigh


    ¡°Thought I might¡¯ve ruined a good reunion.¡± Then Cal turned to Mary. ¡°¡¯ere for the blueprin¡¯s¡± He spoke with wide smile


    ¡°Yeah¡± Mary replied then thought a little ¡°I think that digging rig would also be fine to have, could you perhaps assemble it there tomorrow evening?¡±


    ¡°Supposing the weather is fine¡± Cal nodded


    Faye interjected ¡°Helping the landowner?¡±


    Mary stared at her in confusion. Then she realized that Faye wouldn¡¯t have heard the news, so she regained her calm and unoffensive smile ¡°Remember when we used to help old Rika? She died two years and a half ago, and I kind of inherited the apartment you see¡± she said ¡°Well, you were written in the wills too, but since you¡¯ve weren¡¯t there, I took care of it apparently she thinks of us as her daughter¡± She smiled sadly. And then continued awkwardly ¡°So um, why are you here?¡±


    Cal replied ¡°Faye here is buyin¡¯ water filter¡±


    ¡°Ah, is it for the Motel?¡±


    Faye nodded


    ¡°Is John, okay? Isn¡¯t this usually his job?¡± Mary worriedly asked.


    Faye considered how to reply ¡°Well, his family kind of left him alone¡±


    Mary stood in silently, then finally replied ¡°I-I see¡±


    Cal placed a letter in front of Mary ¡°Well ¡®ere it is, I¡¯ll come by tomorra¡±


    Mary nodded ¡°Alright I¡¯ll be waiting¡± then she turned around ¡°Faye¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°The Apartment is half yours; you can come anytime you want. It¡¯s pretty messy since I¡¯m doing some reworking but I would be glad to have you around. Many have changed you know, some of our old friend too, it would be nice to have you back and maybe restore our relationship¡±


    ¡°Thank you, I¡¯ll think about it¡±


    She nodded then leaves.


    ¡°Cal, how much does a well cost?¡±


    ¡°Why d¡¯ye wanta well? A water tower ¡®n that filter ¡®s good ¡®nough¡±


    ¡°Sometimes it ran out, the pitcher is too small¡±


    ¡°Alright¡±


    Cal then fell into thought


    ¡°Well, usually I survey¡¯d the area and figure out th price there¡± Cal replied, then stared at the celling thinking about something. ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ of visitin¡¯ John soon. Maybe we could discuss this more in depth then¡±


    ¡°Ah okay¡±


    Cal thought for a while as if hesitating whether to say it ¡°And about John, I hink you should keep an eye on ¡®im, heavens know the world has ¡®nough of gloom¡±


    7


    Faye bought a bouquet of flower and walked towards the cemetery. The light blue colours of the petal are dyed with the dimming orange tint, sharp shadows of buildings and trees scrawled along the concrete road, the many coloured dead leaves covered the road and sometimes blown by the winds, flew here and there. One touched her cheek and then the smell of earth would spread carried by the winds and washed over her hair and possessed her nostrils. Faye closed her eyes and sighed.


    The cemetery is located at the edges of the city, leaves of a withered tree fell one by one, shaved by the slow-moving winds. Round and square gravestones are neatly lined up, some have moss growing on it and some is covered with mountains of leaves. Among them is a small gravestone, the mound is clean and there is a cup of water at the side of the stone. Faye thought of Mary, she might have kept this grave clean while Faye is away, and there is a small sunflower resting on the base of the gravestone. Faye put her bouquet atop the stone and stood still against the blowing winds, the bouquet falls over to the other side, she picked it up again and put small rocks inside the wrapping, the plastics and petals danced as the winds mingled with them. Leaves moved around and fell upon the ground and as her bell sleeved t-shirt whipped and flowed from the winds. Faye thought she have steeled herself against the memories, yet they surged limitlessly inside her, taking a shape and form. She watched herself from far away, cold and unfeeling. All the happy memories and the bitter ends just swirled in front of her. A tug on her chest, she remembered her voices, and her words, she remembered her scent, she remembered her eyes, she remembered her soft hands, and she remembered her laugh. She also remembered her tears, her apologies, and the regret it contains. She still remembers her determination. The memories closed in and enveloped her within its warmth and pain. With tickling happiness and stabbing sadness. She found herself lost within it, and the world distorts as the tears fell into the ground, dripping. Her breath is short and uncontrolled


    8


    The bicycle treaded along the concrete cut, it traced the scarring of earth and drawn lines over the marks that it had left before. The wheat reached its skinny fingers, starved for affection for man has left it fallow. Yet Faye rode along, noting that her heart is weaker than it was the morning before. The shadow casted by the wheel rotated, leaving only a deep red circle that the waning sun created. Faye did not think of anything at all, her mind focused and zoomed on a certain memory three years before, her eyes looked empty and lids puffy and red. Faye¡¯s expressionless face stared ahead, the gears ticked and the bicycle wheel turned.


    The wheat brushed her cheek, and Faye jolt awake, she then decided to walk. Her mind slowly returned, a soft hissing sound like sponge absorbing resounded in her mind, her vision slowly comes back to the present and the sound of rustling wheats brushing against each other and the footsteps of ants suddenly regained clarity, an unplugging of the ear. The scent of air and fallow earth, of dead leaves and dust, of mud and bugs, assaulted her senses. She could feel her bell sleeved t-shirt touching her skin, flapping and whipping against the currents of winds, she could feel her palazzo pants pushed and pulled by winds, touching her skins. She moved her face around, parked the bicycle and slapped herself, squished her cheeks and finally dropped her hand back to her sides and breathed deep. She counted to five and finally let it out. She could feel the air moving through her throat and nostrils. And so, she walked feeling every brush of leaves and wheats, the sound of cracking pebbles and dirt as her shoes stepped on it.


    She reached the tire park, and beyond the shaded wheats, beyond the thin stems of dead wheats. She saw John sitting on one of the tires. His back towards the roads. She stopped walking and turned to walk towards him. The bicycle tires and the footsteps changed quality, as it now treaded upon a soft uneven surface of dead stems that piled upon another and formed bed of wheat above rocks and pebbles. The tires John sat at bent and tear, the blunt edges seemed to be rimmed with soft hair. His face is half covered by the shadow cast from the waning sun. Sorrow emanated from him but also a small amount of conviction. He turned towards Faye.


    ¡°Faye¡± he called


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided¡± Faye prepared herself, he raised his head and turned straight ahead, the waning sun cleared the shadow upon his face and the stubbly skin is washed by red light. ¡°I will stay, until the end I will stay. I will help you and keep teaching those kids in school, God knows they needs education. I will fix anything that needed to be fixing, I will get us money and you won¡¯t have to worry about anything. You will never starve, nor will the water filter broke, nor will the radio emit static¡±


    Faye stared at his face, the waning sun casted shadow on her face and only the glint of her eyes is visible. John stared at her, trying to discern any response. ¡°I¡¯m glad¡± she finally spoke, John let a satisfied and relieved smile crept on his face.


    ¡°Thank you¡± he stood up ¡°I¡¯ll be your hands and feet, depend on me as you will and I won¡¯t even complain if you worked me to the bones.¡± He stretched ¡°You won¡¯t need to go to that city anymore, I¡¯ll take care of that like I¡¯ve always have. You¡¯re the Motel owner now, make sure it run smoothly¡±


    Faye nodded ¡°Thank you¡± she then stepped back, and the sun shone her smiling face ¡°Then, I will also promise to never leave you alone, nor will I leave this place. If anybody came, I¡¯ll be here, and if you go to the city, I¡¯ll be waiting for your return¡±


    The exchange of promises is bond with the soul and fate of those involved. The dying sun and the wind and wheats sang as their witness.


    After those exchange of promises they walked home. Faye dragged her bike and talked to John, they joked and laughed. The wavering light vanished at last and the cover of day finally rested. The boundless sky is uncovered and bright stars starts its journey toward the west, little by little they sunk and descend, and in the east they ascended. The moons stared and reflected off the leaves. The night is dark and the road pitch black. The winds brood amongst the wheat and carried cold currents of air that flowed with the dead leaves. Crickets and frogs sang its melodies and fireflies journeyed towards the endless wheatfield wasteland; some could be seen playing just above the fields. And then the motel finally came into view, the light that the sign made shone brighter than the moon, 19 dark room, and one with orange light spilling out a closed curtain is visible. The empty parking lot itself almost shone with white light.

 Chapter 1.5 Faye: Slice of her life

    1


    The next day Faye woke up with another throbbing headache. She sat up in the middle of her room as dim light crept along the windowsills and spilled out towards the floor and finally reached her feet. She stared at the light on her feet and thought about her feelings; she thought about the dream she had last night. It was a memory of the past, the same dream she had for the last three years. The repeated dreams made her nauseous, and last night, the dream has become so clear that she felt it was real, it was as if a chance to avert the tragedy has opened up. Yet in the dream the rain raged on without care and the same end repeated. She put her index and thumb finger on her forehead then massaged them gently, then when it didn¡¯t work. She raised her other hands and put all of her fingers except the thumb on each side of the head and massaged them roughly. She closed her eyes, grunted and furrowed her brows, and her lips drawn into a line as she pressed both of them together.


    After a while she gave up and stood sluggishly. The loose thin black t-shirt flowed down like a waterfall and sagged on her shoulder; the brown hotpants are covered by the hems of the shirt that reached half her upper legs. she walked on her bare feet towards the closed curtains and tried to let the light come in, but the railings stuck. She stared at it and then gave up one of the curtains and drew back the other into a tight knot. light flooded unto the room and crept into the celling. The room is bright as the clouds have thinned from yesterday¡¯s rain. On the walls are repeated brown pattern of a wallpaper that was ripped on some places revealing a white plywood wall that separated this room from its neighbour. Furnitures in the room ranged from tubed CRT TV, floor mattresses, and a wardrobe filled with t-shirts, pants, skirt, and sweater. On the corner of a room are red basket filled with damp clothes, and blue basket with dirty clothes.


    She stretched, one arm extended above her head and one gripped on it. She pushed her back forward and she stood on her toes. Faye felt awake after that and made up her mind. She tidied up her bedroom. She neatly folded the thin mattress where she slept and placed it above the wardrobe. Then she opened the wardrobe, pulled out a neatly folded brown towel then closed it. She traversed the room and reached the door. She turned the doorknob and opened outside.


    Air rustled in and brushed her hairs. The metal wire creaked and swung back and forth. Three days has passed since the family left and days goes on for the remaining occupants of the Motel. Leaves of overgrown wheat reached even deeper towards the road. Seeds fell from their mother and some got carried by the winds, rains come almost daily for the parched seeds that drinks it so thirstily, and warmth of the sun that soon followed gave them affection they gravely craved. The passing of time is marked by changes that seemed to happens almost every breathing second to the greying earth.


    Faye took one step forward and started the morning pilgrimage. The terrace is wet and as her feet touched the puddle that formed yesterday from the splatters of rains, she shivered from the cold water. She put on her sandals and started knocking. One by one, she slowly made her way towards the stairs, mindful of any warmth that might have escaped from the inside of the door, and when there is, she will try to get them to come out or simply woke them up. But of course, nothing has changed and John¡¯s room is the only place with life inside. Then she continued on the first floor. The edges of the terrace are brown from mud that splattered unto the floor from rain. Faye knocked and then and stopped by Room 6 to sit and relax. The pilgrimage ended without any change and Faye breathed out a sigh as she stared at the business room¡¯s door.


    Then she opened it and picked up a broom and a mop. After she mopped the terrace of the first floor the mop has become dirty. She then placed the mop near the stairs and circled the motel to reach the water tower. Sun glistened on the wet concrete roads and the parking lot. Damp warm air touched her skin and moisturizes it, Faye felt that her skin is wetter than usual.


    On the back of the motel, water tower stood and about 10 meters behind it stood radio tower. From the water tower is a yellow hose, rains have covered it in water and sun glistened along its skin. She picked up a bucket that stood upside down near the legs of the water tower, unrolled the hose, then she filled the bucket with water. She carried the bucket, suspending it on the air with both her hands. And as she walked, water splashed around. She placed the bucket on the floor then its content spilled and formed another puddle on the floor. Then she washed the mop with the water that the bucket contained and continued mopping.


    After all of that was finished, she placed the broom and the mop beside her door and placed the bucket near it. She picked up the red basket from her room and one by one hung the clothes on the metal wire. The sunlight streamed down and drawn itself on the surface of the damp clothes, its warmth suffused the fabric and little by little robbed it of its water. The hanging clothes casted shadow on the pony walls and tinted it by the colours of the fabric. And then as the floor dried, all the clothes are hanged.


    She picked up the broom and swept her room. The broom collected the dust, the deteriorating wood, the dead skins, and a small number of hairs. She swept and swept until the room is clean, not forgetting to sweep the underside of the wardrobe, desk, nor the bureau. After her room is clean, she picked up the dirt with a scope and carried it down. She then threw the dirt out towards the road and the winds carried it away. She walked back up and moped her room. After that she collected the cleaning tools and stored it on to the business room again.


    Now that all of that is done, Faye felt the need to eat and take a bath. She chooses the later since cooking with a dirty body seemed unhygienic for her palate. So, she walked back to her room and picked up the towel that was prepared this morning. Bathroom is located on the back of the motel along with kitchen. Faye emptied the water bucket and refilled it then washed it then refilled it again and carried it to the bathroom.


    After she has finished bathing, her stomach growled, and then she saw John walked down the stairs. ¡®Morning John!¡¯ she would say in an energetic tone, hoping that John heard it. And when he did so, he replied ¡®Morning¡¯. Then they promptly forget their exchanges and goes on with their day.


    Faye changed into a loose bell sleeved t-shirt and wear another one of her palazzo pants then hanged her towel on the metal wires. She walked back towards the kitchen. And on her way, she saw John with a towel closing the bathroom door. While listening to the splashing water she cooked three breakfasts; it was a simple kind but really filling. With bacon and eggs, but she knew John wouldn¡¯t be content with just this so she cooked rice and added potatoes into the mix. Then she prepared John¡¯s lunch. After finishing that Faye picked two plates of breakfasts and walked out. On her way out she met with John.


    ¡°Made you a breakfast and lunch¡± Faye said ¡°Right beside the stove¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Faye¡± John scratched his hear, his wet hair glistened under the morning sun ¡°Anything I need to buy at the city?¡±


    ¡°Oh right, maybe would you buy grapes for me?¡± she smiled ¡°think I¡¯m craving sugar¡±


    John nodded ¡°Anything else¡±


    Faye thought back and remembered ¡°That radio tower is still busted, can you call the mechanic? I wrote him a letter but I think he ignored me¡± she looked at him sadly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that¡± he replied. ¡°Well okay, I¡¯ll talk to him¡±


    ¡°Thank you¡± She said ¡°When should I expect you to be back?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, but you¡¯ll see me the next morning¡±


    ¡°Alright, take care¡±


    Faye walked towards Room 6, circling the Motel as she carried the plates on both her hands. The bacon glistened with fat and the cooked rice lets off a nice steam. Arriving there the sun glistened on the newly dried floor. The door of Room 6 is bathed within the white reflected sunlight and the curtain drawn closed.


    She knocked and waited. Sounds of rustling and moving about could be heard, bare feet on the cold floor and the muffled steps beyond the door, moving of strewn off clothes and the sound of spring destressing of a spring bed, a screech lets out itself and finally the footsteps drew closer and the warmth followed. Breathing resounded on the other side, a huge intake and a sigh. Silence descended and for a moment their eyes peeked through the peephole. Unlocked the door as the sound of metal slings itself and clucked into the hard wooden limiter. The door opened slightly and lets out a whimper. Light slipped and crept on the floor and the room is visible through the thin open slit. The owner, not visible, is hiding behind the open door.


    On the floor, she placed the plate. Her hands seemed to hang in the air as she contemplated coming in. But the owner grew restless, so she pulled her hand and the door snapped close. The warmth slithered back and left the door, Faye is all alone. She heaved a sigh and slides into the floor sitting, her back towards the door. She then relaxed, and limply stare at the open sky. Whipped by the fierce winds, the clouds formed folds, they crept slowly and brokenly through the air, the blue canvas seemed to shift as vortices of clouds formed small mist over its top. Then the winds came down and swished softly through the leaves and the stems of the wheatfields wasteland, carrying dust and broken leaves as it goes, then it finally reached Faye, they caressed her skin and ruffled her hair. And then she ate her bacons, eggs, and rice.


    2


    And then in the middle of the day as the sun reaches its zenith, John rode through the empty parking lot with Faye¡¯s bicycle and parked it. Faye had heard him so she walked down the stairs to greet him. Groceries in hand, he walked sluggishly towards Faye.


    ¡°Pretty early, thought you won¡¯t be back till tomorrow¡± Faye said


    John shook his head ¡°There¡¯s a sudden emergency at the school, a student messed the research¡¯s room and started a fire¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that pretty bad?¡± Faye asked ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be there?¡±


    ¡°Nope, firefighters comes pretty quickly and the school only had to rebuild its left wing, the class was dismissed as the fire spreads¡±


    ¡°I see, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay¡±


    ¡°Nobody was hurt it was kind of a small accident¡±


    ¡°Burning the left wing off is a small accident?¡±


    ¡°Apparently so¡±


    They both circled the motel, and their talks grew quieter. Both knew that they¡¯re not so close to make small talks. Soo few shared experiences and some of it are painful. Yet both their existence depends on each other.


    ¡°Oh right, Cal¡¯s coming Saturday¡± John said


    Faye frowned ¡°Tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡± A nod


    ¡°I guess he¡¯s finally starting that well?¡± Faye tilted her head


    ¡°Digging, yes¡± Another nod


    ¡°He¡¯s going to walk?¡± Tilt went the other way


    ¡°He¡¯s a strong man¡± John shrugged ¡°I suppose so¡±


    Faye stopped walking ¡°I mean¡± she paused, and considered. Then her legs moved again ¡°if he¡¯s able to dig a well after walking that far I¡¯m not going to complain, but I really don¡¯t want somebody dying of exhaustion for me.¡±


    ¡°Surely he has considered that¡± Without glancing back John nodded, satisfied with his reasoning.


    ¡°No¡± Faye scoffed ¡°he¡¯s pretty airheaded¡± Then an idea popped up in her mind ¡°Say would you please rent a car? your complexions are getting worse every day. Maybe it¡¯s the distance, maybe it¡¯s taking a toll on your health working and getting tired everyday¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s pretty expensive¡± John glanced back


    ¡°Think the budget allows it¡± She stared up, with her finger on her chin, then nodded ¡°I¡¯ll check. How long are process? Maybe we could have him rode the car along with you.¡±


    ¡°If we could afford it then okay, the process is pretty quick, don¡¯t think we have to wait for even a day.¡±


    They reached the kitchen and went inside. John placed the groceries at the table and Faye went to inspect it. The grapes are there. She said her thanks and plucked one out. The juicy sweetness bursts out of its thin shell, and with it a small acidity.


    ¡°The radio mechanic is out¡± John said ¡°he left just a week ago¡±


    ¡°Ah I see that¡¯s a relief¡± And Faye looked as relieved as her words seemed to be ¡°I worry that I have made an enemy of someone I haven¡¯t even met yet¡± She giggled


    ¡°I¡¯ll try fixing it myself¡±


    ¡°Can you?¡± Faye stopped her laugh, and asked worriedly


    ¡°I can¡± A pause, then continued ¡°Hopefully¡±


    ¡°Alright¡± Something seemed to click for Faye ¡°is that what that is?¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°The tools? yep¡±


    She briefly considered ¡°Good luck¡±


    John walked out of the door. And Faye continues to eat the grapes, her minds went to the burned left wing of a school. She imagined the scene. And finally, she grew worried and followed John out with an armful of grapes. She saw him crouching in front of the radio tower, then finally got up and climbed the ladder. He reached the top safely and his hands move about on the radio box. Faye watched carefully, then walked towards business room. There the ledger is stored inside the bureau desk under a wide window that laid landscape toward the empty concrete roads.


    Inside the business room the air is dank. Smells of rats and unkempt room, dusts and spiderwebs, dirty laundry and rotten books, there is also the smell of dirty mops and cleaning tools. The dark business room is lit by a small lamp that hang on the celling, the small open slit of a curtain that covered the windows lets in a white sunlight ray that passed through the flying dust and hits the bureau where from its reflection trickles towards the celling and the wall. The floor itself is dirty with splattered old oil and rat furs. The room used to be a place of activity once, as marked with the old table in the middle of the room and the messy placed chairs.


    As Faye carefully walked above the oily floor, she felt shivers at the dark and dirty room. She took care not to touch the old items carelessly for dirt-worms and maybe cockroaches often stood curiously at an intruder. She walked past the table and reached the bureau. Her eyes stared at the small slit of light and opened the curtains, the light flooded the floor and the curious-eyed occupants winced and ran. Faye looked around the room and felt that the room looked more disgusting under a bright light as the floor glistened with its brown and black oil and strands of rat hairs.


    The bureau is considerably clean when compared to the rest of the room, as Faye often made use of it. And as she opened the desk there is no spider that took it as its home. A thick ledger lay there. She took it out with one hand and the other shuts the drawer. She placed the ledger above the bureau and stared at it for a long time, pages after pages and finally reached the newest entry. She traced back one month¡¯s back and read it carefully pages after pages. The numbers swirled inside her heads, and she imagined putting it inside a container, slowly and carefully according to their use and category, she considers the trends, and with regrets noted that the only source of income since the family left is John. Once again, she felt that she has depended way too much on him, then she also put those feelings into another different container, slowly and carefully. The motel used to be a self-sustaining place with the only occasional merchant trading and city relation to make up for something like electricity, rare goods, and medicinal herbs. Faye missed Kirsten and Leah, with them around foods and medicines and tools are something to not worry about. She can tell that John is trying to fill both of their shoes. It used to be that John handles city relations, Lizzie with the merchants and making sure the motel ran smoothly, Kirsten with foods, he took care of five acres of wheatfields, and the rest, like medicine, tools fixing, radios, water tower, is Leah¡¯s responsibility.


    Faye realized that she has gotten side-tracked. With this much budget she thought the motel would stay afloat comfortably for another five years if the status quo goes on. But then when she has subtracted the digging of well, and also sets aside a few emergency funds she found that it will only last for three years. She put her fingers and pressed it softly on her lips, with a tilted head her hairs flowed down her side and she breathed softly on her fingers. She considered about how renting a car every week would shorten the lifespan of the motel down to two and a half year. Then she thought about the opportunity costs that would be saved by shortening the time taken by the roads. There are a few caveats of course, the cars cannot go farther than 50 miles from the city but Faye figures that she won¡¯t need to go that far. Alright she decided, she will tell John that the budget allows. Surely two and a half year is a long time, she will find a way to get more money during that period, surely. Getting more occupants will be easy with a car, surely. Then she considered why they even need a car. Why, she thought, maybe she will only rent it for a week to see if it¡¯s worth it, that won¡¯t dent the budget at all. Alright, she made up her mind, that¡¯s what she¡¯ll do.


    Faye put the ledger back and closed the curtain. She turned back and the wet sounds of oil resounded. Carefully stepping on the floor, she took care not to touch anything. And then as John¡¯s feet reached the ground from the radio tower, she opened the door and went outside.


    3


    She met with John at the kitchen table, his hands covering his head. She walked carefully towards the table and plucked a piece of grape. And she ate it as she stared at John. The room itself is lit by a wide window beside the door that leads to the water tower and the radio tower. At night the fluorescent lamp would shine and buzz happily. But now as John sat staring deeply at the table, the sun shone at the reflective white floor and bounce around the room.


    ¡°Sorry¡± he whispered


    Faye considered and sat beside him ¡°Its fine¡± she said as she munched on her grapes. ¡°I knew it¡¯s going to happen anyway¡± She nodded ¡°Yep, don¡¯t know why you would think otherwise¡±


    John looked up painfully at Faye ¡°That¡¯s pretty rude¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡± She swallowed ¡°Well, isn¡¯t it pretty clear, Leah took way longer than just one day to actually do a good job fixing that radio tower?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had Cal teach me¡± John protested


    Faye nodded ¡°Alright, sorry must be the business room getting me all grumpy and worked up¡± She sighed ¡°Anyway, the budget allows it¡±


    ¡°I tried my best you know¡± John held the topics ¡°Well okay, I¡¯ll rent the car¡±


    ¡°Sorry, thank you for trying¡± Faye leaned her head on his shoulder ¡°It¡¯s just that¡± she paused and closed her eyes ¡°I¡¯m relieved, I don¡¯t know how I¡¯d feel if you are capable of everything. I¡¯ve depended on you enough as it is, I won¡¯t be able to grow if you did everything perfectly. And if that¡¯s the case, when the time comes that you leave¡­¡± she stopped, as she heard John took a sharp intake. She realized that she had misspoken.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t I promised you I won¡¯t leave¡± His tone is laced with frustration


    She looked up at him. ¡°I¡­ I mean¡± she paused ¡°everybody said that¡± She pulled back


    ¡°Then¡± he asked ¡°Did our promises meant nothing to you?¡± his hurt started to turn into anger


    ¡°But¡­ everybody left. Leah, Lizzie, Kirsten, Angie¡­¡± Faye panicked and covered her mouth with her hands.


    ¡°But I promised didn¡¯t I¡± his eyes are filled with anger and Faye felt legs gripped with fear.


    ¡°Everybody did¡± she whimpered


    ¡°And¡± he paused, swallowing a spit ¡°How does that invalidates our promises?¡± a wave of disappointment washed over him. And his hand balled into a fist on top of the table


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± she covered her face reflexively


    ¡°Tell me¡± his voice flat, and Faye is unable to see his face ¡°Did you meant what you said that day?¡±


    Faye¡¯s panicked hands moved about wildly in front of her face as her head turned sideways to avert her eyes from him. ¡°I¡­ Yes!¡± she shouted in panic, small streams of tears formed and spilled out of her eyes as her legs trembled. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry!¡± she cried.


    This seemed to bring John¡¯s back to reality. The face of Angie left his minds and the overlap that he saw wavered and waned, what was left is the figure of a cowering Faye. He felt guilt welling up in his chest and a pang of pain. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ll be in my room¡± He stood up and walked away. Faye could hear the door gently close.


    Her legs still trembled and also her hands. She stared at it and wiped the welling tears. And with the trembling hands she plucked one grape and ate it. She realized once again that she had not paid attention to other¡¯s feeling, she regretted it. She knew it but there is nothing she could do about it when her own emotions are disturbed. She tried to figure out a plan to apologize to John but there is nothing she could do that John can¡¯t. She has become too dependent on him, and it seemed that he only wanted that to continue. But she rejected that, she wanted to do something for him, something more than just a replacement for his wife Angie. She did not like the role, but it¡¯s the only thing keeping him stable. Washing his laundry and making his breakfast. She wanted to do something more for him, for herself. She wanted to grow, but he shielded her from the world. That¡¯s what she thought. For John himself, he thought something quite different


    4


    The next day John drove a car into the parking lot, and parked it among the empty slots. Faye was hanging laundries when she saw Cal and his wife Madison came out of the car. She hurriedly walked down the stairs, leaving the laundries to hang itself. She waved her hands and smiled wide. Cal notices and waved back, Madison frowned at Faye, but that¡¯s just how she looked. They walked through the dry and dust covered parking lot.


    Cal smiled at Faye ¡°Place look¡¯d nicer than I¡¯d thou¡¯t it¡¯d be.¡± He extended his hands to Faye. Faye jumped and hugged him. ¡°Woah there. Hav¡¯nt been hugg¡¯d by ye fer long time now.¡± He patted her back as a grandfather would a grandchild.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know why I did it too¡± her muffled speech come out of his huge chest. ¡°Seeing you and Maddie come in from the front felt like there is something that just clicked inside my heart¡±


    ¡°So this is where you¡¯ve been all these times!¡± Madison yelled at Faye but the tone is of affection. Compared to the grizzly bear that Cal is she looked more like a frowning bird. Her stature is unbelievable short and her face always seemed to be frowning or cursing at something she saw. Her greying hair is pulled into a ball behind her head and she wore bandana on her head. Her skin is wrinkled and her voice sometimes croaked. But her energy always overflowed from her eyes. She loved to speak, especially to preach, about cleanliness and order.


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am¡± Faye nodded and let go of Cal. She then hugged Madison.


    ¡°Good girl, have you been well?¡± she patted her back and Faye let go


    ¡°I think so, thanks to John¡± she nodded at John


    Cal then spoke to John ¡°Well, where¡¯s that Radio tower ye told me ¡®bout?¡±


    Then John circled the Motel and the rest followed. Cal stared up at the Radio tower and smiled. John and him talked while glancing at the tower frequently. Faye led Madison into the kitchen and asked her to sit. She brought out foods she had prepared well before and one bowl of green grapes. The room is quiet and only the shuffling sound of feet and clanking of spoons and fork could be heard. Outside the winds carried dusts into the hard barrier of a window and brushed against it creating a creaking sound. Madison ate and Faye plucked one grape every so often and unconsciously ate it. She stared at the window and the men talking.


    ¡°Faye¡± Madison called


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    Madison took a deep sigh ¡°remember Sam?¡± she looked up from her food


    ¡°¡­ Won¡¯t be able to forget him even if I wanted to¡± Faye¡¯s hands stopped and placed the suspended grape back into the bowl ¡°I loved his bugles¡± she stared at the table but the stare is far and distant.


    ¡°Everybody does¡± Madison nodded ¡°Got the whole city singing for him¡± She smiled reminiscing. ¡°Well, kind of worried about him¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s in the south, right? Cal told me¡± Faye raised her head and stare at Madison


    She nodded ¡°Yep¡± then she continued eating


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the city is good and prosperous¡± Her hands moved to pick the grape ¡°What is there to worry about?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know¡± Madison sighed ¡°Guess I¡¯d jest miss¡¯d him¡±


    Faye munched at the grapes ¡°I missed him too, he¡¯s¡­ nice¡±


    ¡°Nicer than anybody I¡¯ve ever seen¡± She ate ¡°Don¡¯ know where he got it. Polite as the old british arstocracy¡± Madison ate in silence for a while, thinking whether the old british aristocracy are polite or not, then continued ¡°The city is a weird one, district divided into different stratas. Supposedly the higher the district is the better living condition they got¡± She drinks and gulped ¡°The higher ups and leaders are somewhere up top¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit different than what I¡¯d heard¡± Faye replied muching on grapes


    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s written on the letter¡± Madison replied ¡°Said he¡¯s somewhere in the middle now but sometimes got a call from the higher ups, worried he got caught in something dangerous.¡±


    The both sat in silence, only the sounds grapes plucking and dishes clinking filled the kitchen. The men outside talked and makes laughing gestures. Then Cal climbed the radio towers while John stood and waited for Cal to heft himself into the platform where the radio box is located. After a while John climbed, the sound of clicking metal is blanketed by the windy afternoon. Then Faye spoke


    ¡°Think, he¡¯s alright¡± She leaned on the table ¡°Never seen him panicked or troubled, and every time we got into trouble, he¡¯s the one to resolve it.¡± She nodded ¡°Yeah. Don¡¯t think any kind of trouble is too big for him got the world figured out somehow¡±


    ¡°Yeah, thought the same thing as ye did.¡± Madison said ¡°Cal isn¡¯t entirely convinc¡¯d though. Said he¡¯ll invite him home soon as possible¡± Then Madison sighed ¡°Well, worries got the better of me ha-ha¡± she laughed ¡°Didn¡¯t come here to worry ¡®bout my boy Sam. Say, Faye are you happy here? Have any plans to go back to the city?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, it¡¯s pretty hard to leave. Have gotten way too attached here¡±


    ¡°Mary is worried, you know, keeps asking me every day to give ye a visit. ¡®visit her yourself!¡¯ I¡¯d say but she knowed I¡¯m itching to visit myself, so she keeps asking me, she knowed!. And so when Cal told me he¡¯d come here, why I¡¯m not the one to let an opportunity goes past, been procrastinating long enough¡±


    ¡°Is she busy? With the apartment and stuff¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh she¡¯s busy alright, but I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s not the reason she won¡¯t visit¡± She said ¡°Probably guilt eating her up, afraid you¡¯d reject ¡®er¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you drag her here?¡± Faye asked


    ¡°¡¯Whyn¡¯t you drag ¡®er¡¯ she said! Course I don¡¯t know what your opinion are about that day. But I¡¯m guessing you haven¡¯t been able to parse it yet considering you¡¯ve only visited the grave yesterday for over three years. I¡¯d think she made a safe choice avoiding your contact¡± She ate ¡°Did you hate her Faye?¡±


    Faye thought, munching the grapes, her face blank and only the movement of chewing is visible ¡°Don¡¯t know¡± she muttered ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± she said


    ¡°See! Faye lookat me¡± Faye stared at Madison. ¡°What happened that day wasn¡¯t her fault.¡± Faye stared ¡°Not yours either¡±


    Faye considered, then she nodded ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± she repeated


    Then the door opened with a loud bellowing laugh. Faye jolted surprised and grapes fell from her fingers. Cal strode towards the table and John followed weakly behind. The room suddenly got brighter from the afternoon light that spilled from the open doorway. Winds came in and brushed itself against every furniture clanking could be heard and hairs rustled, the warmth escaped outside and the room is now cold with air.


    ¡°John¡¯s got somethin¡¯ ta say¡± Cal laughed


    John inched forward with his hand behind his head, scratching it softly. ¡°Sorry¡± he muttered


    ¡°What fer?¡± Cal probed him


    John glanced angrily at Cal but gave a sigh of resignation and continued ¡°I broke the tower¡±


    Faye raised her eyebrows ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Broken ¡®er real bad¡± Cal laughed ¡°Not even Leah gonna save that radio now. Gotta get new box ready.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡± Faye said admiringly ¡°Don¡¯t know it¡¯s that bad¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry¡± John said


    Faye shook her head ¡°It¡¯s fine¡± then added ¡°You did your best¡± Then she turned towards Cal ¡°How much would a new one costs?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t rightly know but it¡¯s pretty cheap. I¡¯ll talk to merchants from north about it, maybe Emil would¡¯ve knowed¡± Cal nodded, then he took one grape and ate it, Faye watched as the white bearded mouth devoured the grape. ¡°Guess I should start on that well, place¡¯s filled with water. But I¡¯ve mark¡¯d good spots to dig, the land is blessed I suppose¡± Then Cal walked back out and the room once again darkened as the door closes, John got up and followed him. Inside the room the two women continued their conversation, and the warmth slowly gripped Faye.

 Chapter 2 Mile: City of hope

    1


    Morning rays shone through one stratum, and lit the pillars that held another stratum, rays passed through the pillars and left long shadows on the houses below. Inside the pillar is a long spiral staircase, and pipes. The sun rays hit and lifted up the morning fog that somehow formed on every stratum. And once the fog hits the celling it turned into a mist and then liquifies and fell as a light rain. Mile did not know how that happens and what sort of mechanism is in place for that, but the rain is responsible for the huge tree that grew in front of her.


    Mile stared at the tree, then the pillars, it stretched so far up that the vibrant colours faded the further up you traced it. Huge crowds are moving behind her as a stream. People moved about looking for the place they have to be. Then she moved her legs also, going to a place she where needs to be. Huge speakers sang a joyous song, and people walked while their eardrums are drummed with the same melodies and vibrated the same way. In this bustling city, this song is a morning routine.


    As she walked however, she tried her best to think of something else other than the song, she stared at the two stories building with beautiful carving, stared at the open window, at the man smoking a Silver Stars cigarette, at his yellowed nails. Then her eyes darted to the lady drinking coffee at the building¡¯s opposite, her hands softly gripped a newspaper and once in a while the cup touched her lips, Faye wondered what the headlines are, the woman seemed unperturbed by the music, absorbed in reading. Mile then walked again and found out that the first few words of the headlines are ¡°Gather and unite¡±.


    Mile walked hurriedly, ignoring the commotion that rose up from the caf¨¦ nearby. The streets are filled with people, and many did the same. She, and the rest of the citizen, are far too busy to get caught up in other¡¯s business.


    The man who walked in front of her tripped, it seemed that one of his shoelaces are untied. His top hat fell and revealed a balding head, Mile covered her eyes, the morning sun shone and the sweat on his head glimmered. She sidestepped the man and glanced at his face. Contrary to his hair, the shape of his face could be called handsome, perhaps even a golden standard for some people. She imagined him with the hat on, and find that she liked the way it looked. The man reached for his hats, his hands sometimes is stepped or kicked accidentally by the passing crowd, but finally reached and put the hat back. Mile is in front of him now, perhaps she thought, that man is slowing her down.


    After walking for a pretty long time, she saw a waiting line on a payphone booth. The upper layer casted shadow on this stratum and the city dwellers started to turn on their lamps, some, a more conservative bunch, keep theirs turned off. The line is pretty long and the crowds sometimes bumped into it. Nobody grumped however, they were pushed and pulled back by others in the crowds, and felt that the bumping is their fault.


    Mile stopped walking and waited for a rift to form within the crowds, and slowly she stepped closer to the tail of the line, people parted when they saw her aiming to go there, she politely nodded as a sign of thanks, and others replied with their own nod.


    The woman in front of her wore pretty shoddy clothes but her high heels shone, and around her necks are a fur muffler. The woman tapped her foot, waiting impatiently. Annoyed, Mile made note not to do that.


    The line moved slowly, and not long after she queued, she was next in line, the woman is speaking with haughty expression on the phone, and behind Mile is another line, about the same length, but the composition is different. The woman slammed the phone and walked away.


    Mile picked the phone and dialled a number she has memorized this morning. It came to her from another phone last night, about a mile from here. It beeped three times then the phone was picked up.


    ¡°It¡¯s Mile¡± Mile said


    The other side is silent


    Then Mile panicked ¡°Is this Lilac¡¯s residence?¡±


    ¡°Where have you been¡± the phone said flatly, it¡¯s a woman¡¯s voice


    Mile¡¯s heart shook, she started to doubt calling is a good choice. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy¡± she coughed ¡°How¡¯s Kars?¡±


    The other side breathed out a long sigh ¡°It¡¯s been three years¡±


    Mile did not reply, and the phone booth is occupied only by the sound of breathing. Mile shifted the phone to her other hand.


    ¡°Kars is fine¡± The other side finally broke the silence, there is a sound of sniffling after she spoke, ¡°He¡¯s been attending school diligently, never missed a day, the teachers loved him and so does his friend¡± Another sniff through a wet nose.


    Silence once again descended, after a while a knock could be heard, Mile glanced and saw a displeased man beyond the phone booth. ¡°Mom¡± she said.


    Mile could hear rough breathing from the other side, and another sniffling ¡°Will you come back?¡± Mom asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡± Mile¡¯s eyebrow frowned ¡°I¡¯m¡± she breathed in and closed her eyes ¡°I¡¯m calling to say goodbye¡±


    ¡°We made soy-soaked chicken yesterday¡± Mom spoke ¡°There is still some left on the fridge¡± Mile could hear the voice wavered near the end. ¡°Kars¡¯s been stealing a bite, so it may not be much¡±


    ¡°Mom, I¡¯ll be leaving tomorrow¡± Mile cursed herself for wanting to call home. Why, did she suddenly felt an obligation to at least let them know? She found no answer.


    ¡°Will you be back by dinner?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know when or whether I¡¯ll be back¡± Then there was silence. Only breathing and sniffling came from the phone. Mile bit her lower lip and put the phone back. A beep resounded, then the line cuts.


    2


    On a caf¨¦ near the pillar, the yellow light shone through the window and enlightened the room. The server efficiently managed the customers; old lonely men, highschooler hanging around after school, and some individuals that maybe only used this place as a comfortable place to work. The sounds ranged from talks, laugh, giggles, pen on paper, and the eloquent sound of uncomfortable silence between two people sharing a table. There is a music box, it played Bach¡¯s cello arrangements. Mile listened as the magnet rods imitated the sound of vibrating strings. She sipped her coffee and frowned, it¡¯s way too sweet.


    The man in front of her, has been getting way too many jealous looks, but he did not notice, he did, but pretended not to. He rather welcomed the looks, Mile is undoubtedly beautiful, he thought, that the jealous looks only boosted his superficial self-esteem. He would purposefully made romantic gesture to show off his relation with Mile. He smiled and rubbed both of his arms then placed them at the table, drumming it lightly, as he waited Mile to speak. But she never did, no matter how long he waited.


    He ventured ¡°Well, if you disliked it, we can just postpone it and wait until next month and do Plan B instead¡±


    Mile placed her cups on the table, then as if just noticing it, stared intently at her fingers. She released the cup and bought her hand level to her eyes. She extended her fingers and stared, sometimes curling her fingers and stared at the nail.


    ¡°Plan B?¡± she asked tiredly ¡°How many have you got?¡±


    ¡°As many as you¡¯d like it to be¡± The man showed his teeth with a wide smile. Mile glanced through the gaps of her finger and thought his smile looked disgusting. He¡¯s better off not smiling she said, somehow his face looked way better then.


    ¡°No¡± Mile sighed and put her hands on the table, and traced the mouth of her cup. ¡°I can¡¯t continue pretending for another month¡±


    The man nodded, his wet hair fell and sweat beaded on his forehead. Mile only stared as it fell into his cheeks then his bended down on his chin.


    He said ¡°They wouldn¡¯t wait either¡± Then he glanced at his surroundings, his eyes darted amongst the highschooler, then back to Mile. ¡°Been preparing for five years for this second rehearsal¡±


    Mile¡¯s hand held the cup and brings it to her lips. She frowned again, and held the cup level to her eyes. She inspected how the coffee sloshed around.


    ¡°Look¡± The man said, and so Mile does, she placed the cup onto the table and stared squarely at his eyes. His face now suddenly serious ¡°I know how you feel about the composer¡±


    ¡°Transcriber¡± Mile corrected him


    The man nodded ¡°Our patient right now is the priest¡± he stared back at Mile, she could feel her minds probed maybe this is how it felt like she thought ¡°I¡¯ve built this plan with that in mind, the transcriber will be there, do not touch him. Mile, do not even think about deviating from our plan¡±


    Mile nodded ¡°A single misstep could be fatal¡±


    ¡°Yes, as always, we must mask our ego when executing a plan¡± The man coughed, and stared at his watch ¡°You¡¯ve bought it right?¡±


    Mile nodded tiredly, and stared at her nails. Then she stared at her fingertips.


    ¡°Alright¡± he looked up from his watch ¡°You understand why we have to do this right?¡±


    She nodded ¡°To buy time¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, that priest is a real central figure. By treating him we¡¯ll push our time limits by years. Him being treated won¡¯t be a minor setback¡± He nodded ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, I promise. I¡¯ve planned this, our final act will be flawless. You¡¯ll get to leave this city safely and I¡¯d be able to find my son. I think this is a pretty good deal for both of us, so we must not mess this up¡±


    Mile stared at his face trying to discern something ¡°And the world will continue on for another few years¡± She played with her fingers


    The man nodded ¡°Yes, the transcription must not be perfected¡±


    Mile leaned back, and stared at the hanging lamp. ¡°When will it start?¡±


    ¡°In a few minutes¡± The man replied


    The cello continued on and the man¡¯s face slackens. His eyes comfortably scanned the surroundings, he noted everything into his mind, from the way that highschooler talked, and how that lone man sometimes buried his face inside his hands. Then he stared at Mile, observing her. Mile however, stared blankly at the light dancing on her coffee. Her hands twitched sometimes. She then watched the surroundings and then bought her hands level to her eyes again and stared silently. Her face void of emotion, the man couldn¡¯t read any sort of excitement nor regret, there isn¡¯t even a hint of sorrow. I wonder how her reunion went, the man thought silently


    Mile stared intently at the small twinkle on her fingertips, as the cello repeated, she played the plans over and over in her mind, yet she cannot see herself using it. ¡®I¡¯ll be alright¡¯ she thought, but there is just something bothering her, something eats away at the edge of her consciousness. She cannot put her finger on it, maybe because it¡¯ll vanish as soon as I touched it. Maybe I¡¯ve known but avoided it. Then from the gaps of her finger, she saw the man staring at her. He seemed flustered being caught staring, and so averted his eyes. She drank her coffee. It¡¯s way too sweet she thought


    3


    At night vibrant light filled each and every stratum, The rehearsal is held near the main pillar that connected this stratum to the higher one. Beautifully carved marble buildings, three stories high surrounded the empty concrete field around the pillar and each building shone with its own colours, completing the colour wheel. One building is higher than the other, there is a tower in front, with bells. The bell toiled, and echoed throughout the stratum. Crowds flowed and flocked onto the concrete field as the gates opened.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Mile was one of them, she bumped shoulder to shoulder with everyone and tried to push her way on one of the buildings. The crowds parted just as usual, but this time since everyone was trying to get at something, it took a really long time for her to arrive at her destination. Everybody moved to make way for someone, only to block some other people, which was trying to make way for another person. Mile felt nauseous, and she had almost puked, but she continued anyway, her eyes looked for gaps and her legs quickly reacted. She passed many kinds of people, from happy couples, grumpy adults, and lost kids. And finally, the thin damp air gradually freshened as she neared the edge of the crowds, and then finally she stepped out. She felt tired, and so, gulped the fresh air of the night, then fixed her ballroom dress.


    She walked through the open door of the building and the surrounding changed into one of an ornate hallway. Her heels touched furs and each steps felt soft. Under her feet is a red carpet, the celling is high and hanging chandeliers lit the room. The room ended on a wide reception desk with three rows of waiting line. The line isn¡¯t as long as the payphone this morning so she was relieved. She queued to the tails of one of the lines and saw the balding man from this morning standing in front of her.


    The hall is wide, there is seats lined up along its length with civilians taking rest from the crowds. Securities are pretty tight, there are police everywhere, chattering on their walkie talkies and finding something to laugh about. They carried pistol and baton on their hips, and wore a very generic police suit. The queue quickly shortened and finally it was her turn.


    Mile gave the receptionist a look. It was a good-looking man, but his smile creeped Mile off and ticked something within her unconscious, it was as if the receptionist has no other expressions and emotions than bliss. She gave him the invitation card, he inspected it and looked surprised that it is an invitation card. He stared at her with a perplexed expression, but smiled so wide and made Mile felt uncomfortable, his face is one of joy and then he congratulated Mile for being invited. She wondered if he reacted this way for every invitee.


    The receptionist rings a bell and someone, a butler, Mile would presume, came for her. She was led upstairs, and given a nametag. Mile stared at the butler and found out that he was stealing glances at her. She felt uncomfortable, no she has felt this way since this morning. Something, I don¡¯t know what, is wrong she thought.


    The butler left her inside a huge ballroom, there are tables, flowers and seats. On the middle of the room is a huge cake. She stared up and found speakers surrounding the room, every corner and every edges. She returned her sight back, and found someone staring at her. He smiled, but something in his eyes struck her deeply. The man is Samuel, the transcriber. His eyes is filled with, she probed her heart, forgiveness? She wondered. She felt deeply disturbed, the room is filled with crowds, but the transcriber, the famed prodigy, many considered a prophet. Stared at her with such an eye.


    Something, I don¡¯t know what, is wrong. She averted her eyes and briskly walked towards tables numbered 204, the same number plastered on her tag. She took a seat and breathed in deeply. She hadn¡¯t noticed till now, but her legs are shaking. Tracing the embroidery on the table she started to count prime numbers. Mile shuts her eyes but it didn¡¯t work. Something invincible is moving about, creeping along the gaps of people.


    She focused her minds, reminding herself to mask her ego and fears. The priest! Right, I need to find the priest. She took a deep breath, and a mask came down to her face, now an empty void filled her face, no emotions can be gleamed.


    The room is filled with crowds some formed groups and laughed and some just walked around aimlessly. And as time goes on, the room is more and more tightly populated. She needs to find the priest quickly. The crowd moved and she felt something observing her. A sound of high heels tapping rhythmically could be heard. She stopped walking, stared down, its not hers. She continued, something, she thought. Then she found the source of the tapping, the sound irritated her.


    Mile shook her head and continued looking for the priest. But no matter how much she looked; the priest is nowhere to be seen. The room is filling up and then, the light dimmed. The show is about to start. Mile walked briskly and felt her legs getting heavier, then she realized her legs are shaking so much that it made a two tapping sounds every time she took a step. Every time she stopped walking, there would be two taps, when she walked there would be taps between her steps. The room dimmed. Something invincible is moving about, under the desks, under her legs.


    Gather and unite. Each attendee moved about the room trying to find matches and partners. The show is about to start. Rosy sensations rise and formed mist; the room is engulfed within the sweet potion of ecstasy. Cone and dance, gather and unite. Be fruitful, and love each other. Gather and unite


    ¡°Pardon me¡± a voice from her right.


    She turned and saw that it was the priest


    ¡°Would you care for a dance?¡± He asked


    4


    Milton walked around the open fields, crowds surrounding him cheered as the band walked on stage. The roar deafened him; he has something to do. Mile is working hard inside so he has to work hard here, to repay her, and also to make sure they survive. He has to prepare the escape. He has to time a blackout, right after the first movements of the song is finished. He had memorized the layout of this place, so it should be easy. He thought, but something is weird; the first movement sounded far to different that one he could remember. Sure, the transcriber changed three years ago but since they are transcribing the same song, shouldn¡¯t it at least follow the same structure? Milton thought about this, as he pushed his way out of the crowd.


    He has considered calling Mile back, but there is no way to do so this late in the operation. Milton finally came close towards the stage and slithered between the gaps of the crowds towards a distinct building, the one with bells. It took efforts in moving a huge crowd, but they parted easily for him, they even smiled at him. In no time at all, he was outside the crowds.


    The air is crisp and cold. Milton stared up at the tower, and nodded. His legs led him in and he found that the building is empty. The security card he had forged won¡¯t be used it seemed. So, he entered and strode cautiously, his head turned side by side each step. I¡¯m missing something important he thought. The interior is one of a church but without the chairs. On the end of the room is an altar, on which its either side is a door.


    Milton took the left door and found himself inside a dark room, a screen shone brightly on one side of the wall. It showed camera feeds from every corner of the fields. But only the fields, not one of the buildings interiors is showed here. Milton found it odd, that such a room is left empty. He considered whether or not he would use it to gain access to this stratum¡¯s central database. But decided to just leave it alone and go straight towards the main pc, it¡¯s pretty close from here anyways. Who knows maybe the security is hardware-bound? Or maybe the system and the interface are separated, trying to access a server bound variable from a client without a specifically programmed API will be a waste of time, might be possible, but its more probable that the original programmers would already have implemented a counter for such a thing. If that¡¯s the case, trying to request higher access level would alert the administrator.


    He watched the screens and decided to check the other room. As he entered, the room is dark, and there is an iron door to the right of the entrance door. The door has no knob, he was puzzled, and tried to push the door opens did nothing. Then he walked around the room and tried to feel for a hidden button. Nothing, absolutely nothing, the room is empty, it¡¯s a square room with two doors.


    Back on the long church like hall, he stood on the podium, he knocked on the wall and found that it wasn¡¯t hollow. Where could that door leads, he wondered.


    Milton walked back towards the room with the computer and watched as the screens changed. From here, he could hear the sound of trumpets and people singing along. How could they have memorized it? He decided to put that question for later. Milton decided he was going to give it a try anyway, and trick the system side to give him access, but there is no keyboard to interact with the screen.


    Milton walked back towards the empty room. He sat in the corner and stared at the door questioningly. A door without a knob and a computer without keyboard. Is this some kind of a joke?. His information is reliable, the guy he hired to do reconnaissance has been his most trusted acquaintance. They worked together for many years and that is why he trusted the information he was getting without checking it, and this small mistake is going to cost him and Mile¡¯s life.


    He held his heads in a cradle. What is he supposed to do? How could he recover from this situation? He did not know; nothing came to mind. The trumpet sang a higher note, he covered his ears tightly. His breath ragged; his mind panicked. The plan is doomed from the start, this is a trap. From whom? He did not know, was his friend involved? Or was he also led into the wrong conclusion?


    Something, I don¡¯t know what, is wrong. He thought. And after the trumpeting sound returned from its high note, the song took a melancholic turn.


    Milton looked up. At the door without a knob, he stood and drummed on the door, his hands pretended there is a knob and turned it, he laughed. And then just a moment after, banged the door with his shoulder, he tried to forcibly open it. He laughed again, then he went back to one corner of the room and grabbed his hair in his hands. Calm down he thought. There must be something I could do. Something to salvage this plan. He stood back up and thought, he paced around the empty room, and the dark room watched him closely.


    He thought back, way back, five and a half months ago, when he started to plan this operation. Where could he go wrong. Then his mind went back to the present. He paced around the room sometimes glancing at the door. It stood there, taunting him.


    Something invincible slithered between the empty podium. Milton stared at the door blankly, his mind tried to think of a way to open it. Then his mind changed gears, then it clicked. He laughed, and a metal bat flattened his head.


    5


    The world became vivid. Mile could hear every breath and every heartbeat, all the previous vagueness flowed away as if a dampener has been lifted from her mind. Every touch felt so personal, and every colour calmly called for attention. She could correctly measure distance, and if given a paintbrush could probably painted a realists magnum opus. She breathed in air and filled her lungs with life.


    The priest wore a white tailcoat with golden embroidery along its edges. His black moustache curled into an elegant bow, and his black hairs are slicked back. His hands, extended towards her are covered in white gloves with golden button on his wrist. Mile simply stared at his face, he waited. Then Mile retained her composure and took his hands did he knew? She asked, but nothing answered.


    His grip is strong but gentle, Mile could sense that he¡¯s an experienced dancer, and a gentleman at heart. He slowly led Mile towards the centre of the room, they slithered along the crowds, he made sure the journey is as smooth as possible and Mile never touched anyone. He navigated and slithered, no, he flowed through the crowds, and with every step he took, a pair of eyes stared at him. And then they reached the centre of the room.


    The light flickered to life and shone on them. The slow and steady sound of a violin rouse itself to wakefulness. He held his right hands up in the air towards Mile and she took it. Then he circled his left arms around Mile¡¯s hips and Mile put her right arms around his shoulder. The violin took a slow approach, it rises and fell, like a confused thief on a staircase. The Priest stepped forward and Mile stepped backwards, they rise and stood on their toes, rolling their feet forwards, it bended upright, their body embraced each other, then they took a step to the side and fell, their shoes and heels fully pressed itself against the cold marble floor. They repeated, and along with the other couples, they rotated around the floor slowly.


    Then a change, a small trumpet could be heard blooming in the distance, as if a slowly breaking dawn on a cloud covered planet, the trumpet slowly overtook the violin and quickly became the main attraction, drums rhythmically kept the melodies going and bugles every so often blew along with the trumpet.


    The couples danced, extended their arms, pulled, they rotated, they embraced, they gathered and united. The light rolled around, taking a life of their own sometimes following a certain couple, other times waltzed along with their fellow light. Some couple switched partners mid dance and returned to each other, they giggled and smiled. A kind intimacy is shared within the room, all of the couples, and every human being there, is related, for they possess a share of the same divine. The sound of tapping heels and steps, no longer impatient, but beautifully musical. Mile stared intently at the Priest¡¯s eye, and he stared back.


    She waited for the first movement to end, but it never did. The movement repeated indefinitely, she frowned and the Priest showed a look of mourning. He stared at her in pity, pity, that¡¯s what it is Samuel was giving me, a look of pity. She rotated, and continued the dance.


    ¡°It¡¯s a great loss¡± he said regretfully


    Mile stared at him, not saying anything


    He glanced around ¡°To tell you the truth¡± The priest smiled, and whispered ¡°I was hoping he would succeed¡±


    Mile¡¯s face twitched with surprise he? Milton? ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡±


    ¡°I suppose so¡± He nodded, he flicked his right hand back and loosened his left, Mile pulled her right feet back and extended both her arms. Then the priest pulled her back, and she rolled back, but continued until her back is in front of his chest, his left hand now in front of her, and then her right hand clutched his left, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and her left cheek touched his right. They continued dancing, now moving as one.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a signal¡± he whispered


    Mile was still, and she nearly tripped over his feet ¡°¡­ what?¡±


    ¡°The first movement is about to finish its third rotation¡± He nodded ¡°When that happens, do what you came here to do¡±


    What exactly is going on, Mile felt something, she felt like, something is watching. Maybe from the dark celling or maybe inside her head, something is watching. And while that something watched, nothing can be right. Something, I don¡¯t know what, is wrong. Her minds overflowed with worry. She thought back to her mom, to her younger brother. No. she shakes off her wandering thought. We must mask our ego


    He flicked and released her right hand and extended his left hand. She¡¯s unrolled, and her hands extended, then they slowly went back and returned to their original position. They waltzed, one foot in front, one step back, left, and rotate.


    The violin slowly rose again from its depth, and then the trumpet rises above and screamed. Then it fell, and took a more melancholic tone. Mile felt a tap on her hips, then their body rises, their ankles rotated and they stood on their toes.


    ¡°Now¡± the priest said


    Mile¡¯s hands rose above his shoulder and her finger lightly tapped a spot on his neck, she could feel it penetrated, deep. The poison it was laced in acted instantly, the priest fell and she caught his limp body in her arms. She stared at his wide shoulder and widened her eyes. The room came into a still, the trumpet still resounded far away, every pair of eyes on the room are fixated on her she couldn¡¯t see their faces, but she knew they were staring deeply at her. Something invincible slithered between the crowds, under her legs mist formed and the room is blanketed in light. Something, everything, is wrong. She thought. It¡¯s way too sweet.

 Chapter 3 Faye: Secrets and Speculations Part 1

    1


    One morning, about week after Cal started coming, Faye found herself inside the former owner¡¯s, Lizzie¡¯s room. She was looking for something, or is looking for something. What that something is, Faye did not know, but she is absolutely sure that there is something here, some big secret that Lizzie kept. Afterall, she reasoned, her death is all too sudden.


    But what if the secret isn¡¯t here? or worse, what if the secret is not a physical item, maybe it never left the safety her mind? Maybe messing up her room looking for undefined stuff is somehow disrespectful. She has considered those, but decided, that, if the death¡¯s physical boundaries are different from ours. If they are based on the memories which they have left, then ransacking her room for some sort of a closure is less of a sacrilege than suspecting her of something which doesn¡¯t exist.


    Faye made a mess of things, from drawers, closets, bureau, and she even moved around her bed. She looked for marks on the wall, writings in the air, and books, maybe diaries, that Lizzie left. And Faye regretted it, the messed-up room is now more of hers rather than Lizzie¡¯s. Every time she looked at the mess she has made, she felt like the images of Lizzie in her mind turned into some sort of a chimera.


    But then she found something. Inside the bureau, is a beautiful palm sized beige brooch, with Lizzie¡¯s name carved on the back. It is a really curious item that doesn¡¯t mesh well with her image of Lizzie. She has never worn any accessories, and why is the brooch also seemed to be well kept, is it some memorials or someone? Or is it simply a gift from Kirsten. But Faye thought otherwise, something about the way it was placed, or the way it shone, perhaps, just screamed to her that this is some big secret.


    Faye felt conflicted. On one hand she felt really big, her chest felt like it was filled with some sort of cotton which absorbed all her sadness, she felt like she was nearing an answer. But on the other hand, Faye felt like a frog on a mud, maybe, she thought, this is actually worse than just suspecting Lizzie of something which doesn¡¯t exists. Why, she thought, did she ever think of trying to uncover her secret? But nevertheless, preference became real on the moment of choice, and she did choose to try to uncover, so Faye¡¯s awful feelings ends there.


    She placed the beige brooch on the desk of the bureau and inspected every single angle of it. It¡¯s an oval shaped brooch, there is a marble like pattern on the brooch, and on its side is a beautiful golden carving. It looked more like a really beautiful decoration rather than something to wear. Lizzie¡¯s name is carved on the back, and below her name is something which gripped Faye so much, the exact reason that she didn¡¯t feel like it was just a gift from Kirsten. There is a carving bellow, such is written ¡°Gather and unite, be fruitful and love each other¡± and below it is a series of number.


    It sounded like some sort of a bad slogan for a company. Faye has never heard of a company like so, and the way Lizzie¡¯s name is beautifully carved above it, seemed like it¡¯s a custom-made product. Numbers below the slogan, however, indicates that this is probably a mass production number. Was her name carved on every brooch? Maybe not, at least that¡¯s what Faye¡¯s feeling, she has no reason to trust on her feelings however, but Faye chooses to this time. It is more likely - more than it was that this is a product she buys, or that Lizzie owns a company - that the serial number does not indicates mass production, but a number that Lizzie specifically choose to include.


    But what does it mean? Faye wondered. She knew, of course, that numerology, is full of shit. And that a series of numbers, could mean anything one wanted it to be. Maybe that¡¯s the point she thought. Maybe the numbers meant something to Lizzie and to Lizzie only? Faye groaned.


    Then she remembered something, the posters plastered on the walls of the entertainment district. The one Angie bought back to the motel to show her. Faye dug her memories, little by little she went back, her face scrunched up for seemingly no reason, then flattened, then smiled, then cringed, and finally, a look of triumph. She has found it. The poster is of a smiling woman and on her back is a field of sunflower. And above her is a white huge text, designed to catch the attention of those that even just accidentally scanned pass by. There it is, verbatim, in a capital letter and eye-catching punctuation. At the time, Faye thought it was pretty obnoxious.


    Alright, she decided. Something is definitely hiding here. At last, she has forgotten her guilt over ransacking and messing up the place of a dead person and smiled happily. She would have jumped with joy over the smell of mystery. But, the thought of knowing her friend Lizzie more than she did now, maybe overtook her lust for riddles.


    Then she did a do-over inside the room, replacing and moving the items, re-arranging them as if they would somehow magically form an answer. The bed now stood vertical to the floor and lied on the wall, wardrobe¡¯s door is opened halfway and its content scattered on the floor. And somehow, this worked.


    Faye found another thing that doesn¡¯t quite mesh with Faye¡¯s perception of Lizzie. A pile of what seemed to be manuscripts. Here, Faye felt really guilty, maybe a bit late now that she has desecrated Lizzie¡¯s room, but now she felt absolute guilt. Maybe, I shouldn¡¯t have done this. And the cycle of guilt repeated, but well, she did anyways, and that shows.


    The manuscripts are now placed on the bureau facing up. And on the first page, Faye read ¡°A Research on The Golden Box¡±. Faye stared, her mind dizzy with excitement, as how it was, she seemed to have forgotten about her guilt. She wondered what exactly is the golden box, and how will it relate to the beige brooch.


    She then flipped the first page only to find there is way too many technical words that she doesn¡¯t understand. Faye is frustrated, what could it mean? What could porgy mean? And what in the world did Lizzie meant when she wrote ¡®when the child is flicked with mother¡¯s tongue, it glowed a different tone¡¯? Faye thought, for a moment, that Lizzie¡¯s image in her mind, fell apart. Should I, Faye supposes, Should I have not read this? She regretted. This is a very naughty manuscript.


    Faye closed the first manuscript, with a bright red face. She hasn¡¯t completely understood the content but she could, probably, have correctly assumed the overall story. there is a Golden Box, and it opened up when the mother - and of course this is just what she gleamed ¨C licked her child just right, along with other the other mothers, and there must be someone, coordinating the licking, so that the mothers licked their child in the correct places, so as to elicit a specific response. Of course, this is just what she gleamed, she has no way of knowing whether this is correct, but Faye is pretty confident, that it is what the manuscript contained. Again, Faye regretted reading it. Oh Lizzie, what a wicked woman you are. Faye whimpered.


    Another manuscript, with many others, lied below the one she has just read. Faye stared at the top manuscript ¡®Argument against the Instrumentation¡¯. She debated whether to read it, but decided not to. It will not do to tarnish her memory of Lizzie more than she already has.


    2


    Afterwards, Faye fixed Lizzie¡¯s room, she placed all her stuff back to where it was. Well, it could be said that she was trying to undo the damage done to her version of Lizzie. Reality is sometimes way too different from her idealistic perception of the world but she has the right to do whatever she could do to twist her own subjective world if she wishes to. At least that¡¯s how Faye saw the world.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Faye closes the door and saw that the sun nearing its end. The day is pretty old now, and as she walked, the golden ray of sun casted deep picture to her mind. They way shadows deepened their colours and how behind those shadow, light formed dim images of the sun. Faye thought more and more about Lizzie, seriously this time, she¡¯s missing something. Some key fact. Weirdly enough, she doesn¡¯t care that much about Angie. Maybe her bad feelings and guilt are solely focused on the effect Angie have on John.


    How could the beige brooch, the posters, and the southern city possibly relate to each other? Alright, let¡¯s say that the beige brooch is Lizzie¡¯s creation, what message could the pattern held, the name, and the serial number. How could it all connect to the slogan, which are also found on the poster advertising the southern city. She thought and thought. To be honest, there¡¯s something very obvious going on. That slogan is most definitely a slogan of the southern city. And the fact that the beige brooch contained that slogan meant that it was a property of the southern city or some sort, it could also mean, that there is actually no causation here, maybe its simply a correlation, maybe with the same cause or otherwise, or maybe it¡¯s simply just a coincidence¡­ yeah no.


    She sat down with her back towards the door, her messy hair fell atop the floor. She stared down and watched curiously as her crossed legs formed long shadows unto the floor. Okay, it¡¯s either causation or correlation. For causation, either the brooch causing the city, which is not something I¡¯m taking seriously, wait, it could be that the slogan on the brooch are adapted by the city. Alright, no. Ahn, okay, it¡¯s more realistic to think that the slogan on the brooch are caused by the city having that slogan. Faye sighed. For correlation, the slogan just happens to be catchy, it maybe originates somewhere, and became popular. It is referenced on the poster, and Lizzie also thought it was good, and choose to include it. Basically, it derived from the same source.


    Faye leaned her head back and groaned. Then jolted in surprise when something moved beyond the door.


    Faye spoke ¡°Lizzie probably have some ties to the southern city¡±


    No response, but maybe just a few shifting. Faye grew worried.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, do you think it¡¯s bad to comb around her room and ignore her privacy?¡±


    ¡°


    ¡°


    ¡°


    I have gotten side-tracked, right, it could be either way. Lets take a look at the serial numbers. Ugh I can¡¯t think. I¡¯d better walk around till my feelings are sorted out.


    I think, I need more self-control I think I want to enjoy a long walk.


    Okay, let¡¯s think about the serial numbers and what it could possibly meant. The most plausible explanation is a citizenship id. But that¡¯s assuming the brooch actually have some connections with the south. Ugh, the only hint that this has anything to do with the southern city is the poster. I need more concrete and direct proof that the slogan actually originates from the city or that the city took the slogan from Lizzie, which would make her some sort of important figure within the city. But why would such an important figure be 400 miles away from the city. But with this number of hints, I can¡¯t exactly drop any of the speculations.


    As she walked even more speculations are building up, yet there is one that Faye refuses to let go. I just need more hints. Faye continued to walk, her nimble feet carefully sidestepping pools that was formed by the rain. And as she walked her eyes sharpened as she stared into nothing.


    And then a trickle of rain fell. Faye jerked surprised, she has woken up from her stupor. There is a sound of river nearby, and the wheats all whispered an anxious tone. The earth blackened little by little as water fell. And all the light from the sun dimmed. Faye felt nauseous.


    She ran towards the river. Her location and the wheater played unpleasant memories in her mind. As she ran, she was forgetting which of the realities are the one she was in. Three years ago felt like it was now, and her mind lurched into a sense of urgency. But there is a calm part of her mind, pushing her calmly towards the river. To be more exact, the bridges of the river. She can take shelter there, from the rain.


    Her feet splashed puddles and muds colored her legs. The thin finger of wheats reached towards her and moved around, the earth lets out a chilly whisper as rain starts to fell harder. Her hairs are soaked, and her shoulder the same. Faye felt her legs giving out as her mind played an even more vivid memories.


    In her confused mind, now that the rain has reanacted the same scene so accurately. She felt the emotions she had three years ago. Her worries and regret. Something is under the bridge.


    The bridge came into view and the depression of the earth shown itself, the water is lower than it was. And she lunged down the lower level. She slid down, and reached the grasses beside the river, and ran under the bridge. There it was. Her minds roared, headache formed, and she puked. Her trembling hands carresed a battered and injured woman. The images of her little sister overlaid the woman and Faye¡¯s legs give out.


    She stared intently at the woman. But she cannot seemed to see past her mind¡¯s image. Tears fell and the river let out a calming whisper. And rain formed small waves that rippled outwards.