Authors: Veronica Melan
I don’t want to go there, I just don’t want to! Let them do whatever they want including taking off these bloody twenty points off everybody.”
But as soon as I imagined covering myself with the blanket to try and doze off - the indisputable knowledge came to me - I will not be able to fall asleep tonight. I just can’t do it. How can I fall asleep knowing that because of my actions many people who are already tired from mere survival on the ranch will suffer even more? How many days had they spent earning those twenty points? Rather than deal with mathematics I made the final decision – I have to go and own up to what I’d done. Just give myself couple of more minutes and then I’ll go. But as I imagined the malicious predatory grin of Greg’s face, I almost groaned. No, I can’t go and confess everything to him - I’d rather be burnt alive. But what should I do then?
An intangible thought momentary slid to another face – a sullen but handsome face with narrowed eyes gleaming in the shade.
Hulk. Damn him. I’d rather go to him instead and let him decide. If he passes me over to Greg then be it.
“But what if he doesn’t?”
A weak glimmer of hope emerged in my mind and I found myself standing by the door leading to the hallway turning the handle. Yes, now. Otherwise the courage will abandon me for good.
I remembered where Hulk’s office was located since my last visit there. After creeping along a few silent corridors, past the hushed room and dark windows, I was right in front of the door on the third floor. Yes, that was the door. This is his office with the French doors and the balcony where he usually smokes his evening cigar. Is he already asleep? And what if he is asleep, should I wake him or should I retreat? But then I have to look for Greg and I still haven’t got enough of courage to do that.
Passing through the lounge, immersed in moonlight and decorated with gold I glanced at the big old clock filling the quiet room with monotonous (even cosy in some way) ticking – it was showing quarter to three or ten to three... I couldn’t be certain what time it was since I didn’t want to come too close and risk tripping over something making noise.
Is he asleep or not? I saw a dim strip of light penetrating from underneath the door but it could just be the night lamp which was kept on all night long. I couldn’t wait until eight o’clock because it will be too late; many bracelets (including my own) will make a short beeping noise and lose twenty points.
I almost laughed thinking about it but then moaned from the fear. No, I haven’t got the nerve to wait until eight.
So I gathered up all my courage, slowly raised my hand and knocked on the door.
After a few seconds I heard the steps and the door opened. Hulk was dressed the same way as during the meeting in the yard - white shirt with rolled up sleeves and black jeans. So, he wasn’t asleep, flashed in my mind.
Lost for words with a wildly beating heart, I stupidly fixed my eyes on the thin sparkling gold chain around his neck, not daring to raise my head.
“Come in.” he said quietly, looking tired and stepped back inside the room.
I took a few steps and paused in the middle of the room. Again, as once before I felt the wave of hideous sense of inconsistency, because my dirty jeans and faded from a numerous of washes T-shirt didn’t fit into the noble luxurious interior of this apartment. The night lamp was turned on as I thought. Not even a night lamp, but a floor lamp that stood next to the chair; there was an open book on the armrest, which its owner most likely was reading, before the knock on the door.
The electronic clock on the table was glowing with green digits "3:58" and instead of feeling embarrassed and ashamed ahead of my confession, I suddenly felt embarrassed that because of me now Hulk won’t be able to sleep for a while.
Why would I be feeling this? – I asked myself surprised. – He probably sleeps until noon, eats hearty food and does what he wants wherever he wants...However, the awkwardness hadn’t disappeared and instead it intensified when Hulk wearily rubbed his temples and frowned.
“I’m sorry for such a late visit...”
He just waved his hand towards the wide leather sofa.
“Sit down.”
I sat down, clasped my hands on my knees, leaned back and took a deep breath. This is it. It will all kick off now. Showtime, ladies and gentlemen! Atonement for the sins....
Hulk sat in a chair in front of me, placed his arms on the armrests, looked at me expectantly and slowly touched the lower lip with the index finger.
I forced myself to exhale, I said.
“It was me who demolished the whips.”
Froze in anticipation of his reaction, I was stunned with the silence that hung after my words, but even more so that the person in front of me didn’t even move. He didn’t look surprised, his eyebrows didn’t raise and there were no shouts “Oh, you...” (in my mind I had dozens of options starting with “bitch” and ending with something even less pleasing for the ear) and I wasn’t ready to his calmness. Yes, it was calmness, since I was very perceptive to the mood changes even if they were wordless. And the longer he kept calm, the more dismay I felt. What’s going on? Is he mocking me pretending to be all sweet in order to bring down an unexpected flurry of curses on me later?
“Carry on.” he said after a few seconds.
I got numb and slowly separated my sweaty palms.
When is the blaming going to start?
“What should I carry on with?”
“Carry on talking.”
I sighed, completely confused. Well, I came here to talk, so I will talk then.
“I stole the whips today and cut them up with an axe. I acted on my own and no one helped me.”
“Why?”
“Because ...” I frowned, not knowing whether I should tell him the real reasons.
“Because?” Hulk asked without changing the posture, remaining calm and a little tired.
“OK, because those poor workers don’t even have any hats on and they get heat stroke working under the sun. Is it hard to provide them with some paper hats which would cost peanuts?”
Feeling that I am getting away with my emotions I returned myself back on track, “And they get beaten up for no reason. Their backs are permanently wounded and if there were no whips for a few days, they wounds would get a chance to heal.”
After I threw my thoughts in his face, I cringed on the sofa so tense that my muscles hurt.
Hulk continued to be quiet but now his face looked slightly surprised, perhaps more due to me being so direct than my words. He leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands.
“And now you’ve come to confess?”
I didn’t reply; it didn’t make sense to confirm the obvious.
“So what made you admit everything?”
He did not seem to wait for an answer to the previous question but he did for this one because his eyes narrowed.
I remembered myself sitting in my room, plagued by doubts.
“I wouldn’t...” the words weren’t easy to come, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that other people suffer because of me. Twenty points is a lot; it means more working days for each person.”
I hesitated a little and then I added:
“I was too scared to go to Greg, that’s why I came here thinking it’ll be better this way.”
I felt that I was borderline complaining and stopped myself. I didn’t want to look pathetic and didn’t want him to think that I was weak begging for forgiveness.
I looked straight in Hulk’s face and said boldly:
“Take twenty points, but only from me.”
This time, his dark eyebrows sarcastically lifted.
“What a hero!”
I said nothing, just turned and looked away. The invisible clock was ticking somewhere, cutting the silence into the equal time intervals which were immediately drowning in the past.
“Answer another question, please.” Hulk broke the silence, “why were you winding Greg up by the cornfield today?”
Here we go!
As I recalled myself turning around and seeing Hulk standing behind me, catching my every word, I felt embarrassed again.
“No. No, no.”
Hulk frowned unkindly.
“No what?”
“I don’t want to answer to this question.”
“It’s not a request. If I ask you, you answer.”
“No, I won’t answer!”
Hulk just chuckled as his bright eyes shone against his tanned face.
“Then exactly in one minute I will call Greg and you will tell him everything.”
I shuddered, quickly forgot about my own pride and pleaded.
“Please, don’t call Greg! He’ll kill me, especially after the incident by the field...”
“Then be a good girl. You have one minute to decide which one of us you want to confess everything to - me or him.”
Hulk smiled, knowing perfectly well that he’d won this round on these conditions; however, instead of being angry about his cunning trick, I unexpectedly began admiring his face.... that triumphant expression that was shining on it. Moreover, I even caught myself thinking that I would confess anything to him, just for the opportunity to sit like this for longer - in a cosy room, on a comfortable couch, enjoying our conversation...
For a brief moment I felt a déjà vu and returned to the old days when I was outside the “Area 33” where there were normal human relationships - warmth, smiles, talks in the evening, tea or morning coffee, shopping trips together, touching hands and many heartfelt looks between the two people who did not need any words to understand each other.
He was looking at me, and I could not take my eyes off of him, fascinated by this moment when the false warmth like a comfort blanket covered me and I had no desire to throw it away.
I felt like something had changed inside of me - the nervousness of the last few hours dissolved and I stopped being so scared - completely. Perhaps, such a lack of fear was only appropriate for some mad or drug addicted people but I didn’t care. Instead of counting down the seconds of the minute that was given to me, I looked around slowly, almost gently, noticing the things I hadn’t noticed earlier such as a coffee cup near the laptop on the table, the box of cigars on the windowsill and Hulk’s sloppily thrown on the back of the chair beige shirt, as though it wasn’t HIS office but it was our house where we shared good and bad days together.
What’s wrong with me? Am I going mad? Have I lost the plot from the loneliness...?
My logic was hissing at me like a cat but I was sitting there and smiling, for some reason feeling rather serene and tranquil. Who knows why, but I didn’t feel lonesome anymore as I did all those days in Tally... and before Tally.
No, I was well aware that all this was just a temporary obsession - sitting in front of Hulk (Hulk! The one who took five points off my bracelet at the club!), and enjoying the fact that he had no idea about my feelings and couldn’t have guessed what a priceless gift he’d rewarded me with, even if it was for a few short seconds.
After I woke up from the sweet slumber, which I so unexpectedly descended into, I looked up and smiled.
“I will talk to you. There is no need for Greg.”
He looked at my smile (probably totally inappropriate right now, and I noticed a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
“I am glad you’ve made the right decision.”
“Could I get a cup of tea since this night is turning into a confession night?” I surprised myself with this but judging by the look on Hulk’s face not as surprised as he was by my request. But his answer was short and imperturbable.
“Yes, you can.”
He got up from his chair, walked over to the alcove located in between the book shelves and opened the door of the bar built into the wall. In addition to the various alcohol bottles of different shapes and contents, there was a kettle as well.
That’s where he gets his coffee from! It wouldn’t be as easy to run in the kitchen every time you need some hot water...