Dreams Ltd (10 page)

I shook with the heavy book in the air ready to kiss its dusty pages, then I found pen and paper and wrote down the address, fortunately the column with the letter "L" only had one Laroche. I double checked the address again, put the sheet back in the bag and darted out in the street.

The summer air tasted very differently to me this time as if someone added an elusive scent of the forthcoming freedom to it.

The grass was rustling gently, golden sunrays were shimmering through the foliage and the daisies were rocking their pink heads on the roadside. For half a minute I stood motionless and then I shook my head in joy and walked to a nearby Tazi car park.

After a couple of steps I froze - I must call Laroche and arrange to meet him. There was no phone in my apartment so I have to call him from a phone box. As I got back to the phone, I took out a piece of paper with his contact details and began to study the manual which was explaining how to use a public telephone. Hardly moving my lips I read out: "Bring the front side of the bracelet to the scanner. After a beep your balance will be debited one point which will allow you to speak for ten minutes continuously or to make ten calls lasting one minute each. "

These terms suited me just fine and without any hesitation I put my bracelet to the scanner. There was a momentary beeping sound and the number of points on the screen shifted from fifty to forty-nine. Alright it worked. I began to dial Laroche’s number and soon I hear long ringing signals down the receiver. I was impatiently shifting from one foot to another waiting for an answer and when I heard a click, I almost bounced up on the spot. However the voice on the other end of the line was not Laroche - it was an answer machine. “Unfortunately I am not able to take your call right now but I will listen to your message as soon as I can. Thank you.”

A short melody played before I could start recording my message and I sighed brokenly trying to put together a short speech.

“Hi Christopher. We must meet up as a matter of urgency. I have a package for you ...” at this point I stumbled, frantically trying to figure out whether it is dangerous to mention the Corporation being in Tally or not? But if Laroche doesn’t understand the importance of this message he will most likely refuse to see me and I really didn’t want that to happen. So I continued as bluntly as possible. “This parcel is from the Corporation we both know. Since I have no phone in my flat I will call you again using a public phone later on today. I will ring you in two hours and after that I will continue trying to get hold of you every hour until you pick up. I hope to see you soon and please remember - this is very important!”

I hung up.

A steel cord swayed from side to side several times and then came to a standstill. That was it and now all I have left to do is just wait. I have to wait. I remained in the booth for a while as my mind was going through the message I’d just left for Laroche. Did I miss something important? No I didn’t, everything I said was correct; and after I came to this conclusion I left the phone box.

Where do I go now? An empty street was drowning in the sizzling air. Even the traffic seemed to have disappeared at this very minute -Tally was melting down in the summer heat. I had nothing else to do other than to call Laroche later on. Any sort of walk was out of the question as firstly, I had no idea where to go, and as I’ve discovered it was not safe to walk around not knowing the rules well enough - that could make my points disappear very quickly; secondly I wouldn’t be able to walk too far in the blazing sun anyway. I haven’t got any sun protection or headgear and having sunstroke wasn’t part of my plan, therefore I couldn’t think of anything else but getting home.

On the way to the Tazi car park I noticed an empty bus stop and stopped for a moment to read the time schedule. To my surprise there were two buses going to Bell-Oak Park from this stop - number fifty one and number eighteen. The bus number fifty one, according to the schedule was due to arrive any minute and instead of spending the remaining two points on the ride in yellow taxi I decided to use local public transport. I leaned my back on the iron pillar which was supporting the roof of the bus stop and prepared to wait, psyching myself up for the mathematical formula on a ticket - will it be hard to solve?

For some time there was hardly any noise on the empty street - just the sound of leaves whispering from a weak warm breeze and echoes of engines roaring in the distance, obviously the traffic was more lively on the next street down. A leisurely pedestrian was walking on the opposite side of the road – a middle-aged man, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, holding a folded newspaper. At this point, I suddenly felt like I’d never left Clendon City, everything seemed so normal, casual and serene - an ordinary city with the ordinary people. There was a smoky-coloured cat sitting against the wall of the brick house, enjoying the sun, a sound of TV murmuring on the background and a female’s voice inviting someone to have a cuppa.

All this felt like “Area 33” with its strange rules for prisoners never existed and Brahms (skinny as a mop) and Ted chewing his apple on the bus were never in my life; as if Carlos Brodsky at the border, the bracelet and the “The Rules and Regulations of Tally” book were just a product of my imagination.

But this strange crossover of the illusionary realities disappeared as soon as I looked at the bracelet. Here I was in Tally at the bus stop waiting for the bus, tickets for which had some mathematical formulas on them; and I was going to Bell-Oak Park because I haven’t found Laroche yet and haven’t passed the parcel that the Corporation gave me over to him. I’m still paying back the debt.

As soon as his name popped up in my mind I felt that familiar emptiness in my chest but it didn’t have time to spread out and fill me up as I saw the white dusty bus appear.

The front door swung open and I stepped into the cabin. The driver exhausted from the heat lazily pressed a button and the device built into the dashboard quickly printed out a small paper ticket. The driver handed it to me idly looking at the road through the windscreen and shut the door. I looked around and saw a turnstile that separates the passenger cabin from the driver and put the ticket into the scanner. The stamped ticket came straight out and the laser beam appeared to be waiting for the bracelet. I put my bracelet up to the scanner the same way I did in the phone box and passed the turnstile.

There were a few other people on the bus but I couldn’t waste any time looking at them - finding the number of my seat was more of an important task right now but contrary to my expectations there was no mathematical formula on my ticket. There was however a pattern of overlapping black and white lines going in different directions. I stopped in my tracks since I was already prepared to multiply and divide and now I was staring at the jammed piece of paper in my fingers. What are these lines about and where does it say my seat number? At the bottom of the ticket, as if mocking me, there was a message that I have two and a half minutes to solve the puzzle and if I don’t do it on time I’ll be fined five points. I swore to myself and looked helplessly at the people in the cabin but nobody seemed to care. I could feel how my whole body was filling up with panic and I could hear seconds ticking in my head. I looked at the chaotic interlocking lines again. What does this mean? A forest made of lines! The time was running out scarily quickly. What’s two and a half minutes? It is only hundred and fifty short seconds - very short seconds! I have to concentrate, I have to get focused! Now!

Using all my strength I pushed the fear away and concentrated on the picture. At first, my eyes went over the black sticks, clinging onto each and one of them, looking into every stopping at the smallest detail. How could I find the seat number amongst them? Gradually my eyes got tired from the scrutinizing and I looked at the entire picture once again; and at this very moment I thought I was beginning to understand something. Not allowing myself to think about the fading seconds I relaxed my eyes even more and tried to focus somewhere behind the piece of paper and almost jumped up with joy. Of course! Damn it! It’s a stereoscopic image! Once I managed to catch the right angle and not allow my eyes to focus anywhere else I immediately saw the number “17” made out of black and white lines - thanks to a friend of mine who took me to an exhibition of stereoscopic paintings several years ago! At the time I couldn’t understand how people could see things in the abstract colour paintings but eventually I learned to relax the eye muscles and started to enjoy seeing familiar outlines where you would never had thought they could be.

Jumping with happiness I ran to the seat number 17 and my bottom was immediately pressed against its rigid surface.

A woman behind me said quietly:

“You managed. You only had five seconds left...”

Happy and calm I sat there in silence, listening to the buzzing and creaking of the bus, looking at the scenery out of the window. This time the route was different to the one the taxi driver took earlier - now we were driving on the outskirts of Tally. I made this conclusion because of the farms, ranches and fields that we were passing. The mansions were seen in the distance - beautiful looking, mostly two-and three-storey houses. There were people working on the plantations - their bare, bronze, sweaty backs were glowing in the sun.

How hard it must be - to work at noon when the heat is at its worst!

The heads of some workers were covered up with hats but most people did not have anything on their heads. I felt sorry for these workers – do their employers care about their health at all? And if so, why don’t they buy or make some paper hats - they would only cost pennies. As soon as another corn farm disappeared around the corner there was an unploughed, baron land stretching out as far as the eye could see. But as soon as I thought there will be no more farms another one appeared in the distance – a white three-story stone house surrounded by the greenery and flowerbeds looked not just impressive but grand and somewhat terrifyingly beautiful: as if the architect of this building wanted to create an impregnable fortress at first but then changed his mind and added several columns, a few balconies and elegant roof to the construction. Right behind the garden which shaded the windows from merciless sun with green oaks there was an endless field with some tall plants growing on it. The bus was driving too far away from the field and I couldn’t see the kinds of plants that were growing there but the apparent difference from all the other farms was very noticeable: the high voltage electric fence was surrounding the whole area. The fence had interlacing razor wire, its spikes looked like sharp teeth twisted together and not leaving a single hole between them. A second later I saw some security guards walking along the perimeter with whips in their hands and this whole image made me feel sick. Oh, my God! Whatever will I see next? What have these poor people done to be placed in such conditions? However, some crimes carry the death penalty as the punishment and perhaps the option to work on the fields was not the worst they had. Yet the thought of me being amongst them was unbearable. I took my eyes off this awful view - are the guards’ whips real? - swallowed the lump in my throat and fixed my eyes on the back of the seat in front of me.

The air on the bus was so stuffy it was making me feel very thirsty, some water wouldn’t go amiss. Following this thought came another one - I desperately wanted a yogurt and some orange juice for breakfast this morning but I didn’t have any in my fridge.

This morning I rummaged through all the food in the fridge and decided that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to buy some vegetables for lunch and indulge myself in something sweet. It’s time to get familiar with the local shops, not that I was too fussy about what I eat but I was conscious of the fact that I’m limited in points. I was desperately missing food shopping itself as I really liked walking down the aisles full of different and bright packages. Sometimes I would just aimlessly push the trolley for my own enjoyment reading the labels, admiring neatly placed piles of fruits and vegetables, breathing the smell of the food from the deli. Although I haven’t got the means to treat myself to everything I wish - at least while I’m in Tally, I could afford to buy a few things. All the more so as Christopher Laroche has now been found and I just needed to get the parcel over to him and then I can go home. Home! This word felt as sweet and appealing as a scoop of an ice cream on a dry swollen tongue of some homeless person. Even the thought about Alex didn’t seem as depressing as before I immediately kicked myself for allowing this to enter my mind.

As soon as the surroundings became more familiar I picked up my bag and headed to the doors. The bus stop was located exactly opposite the one I saw this morning on the way to the bank and on the corner of the intersection I noticed a glass building with a sign "Supermarket № 2".

That is exactly what I’ve been looking for! And waving my light bag I went towards the building.

It was a lot chillier inside the shop. By the entrance doors I took a creaky trolley, put my bag in it and went further down the shop anticipating a pleasant time food shopping. My suspicions about the possible lack of selection did not reflect the reality – the choice of food here was amazing. On my way towards the diary section I was lazily glancing at the fat cans of corn and peas, pickles and a huge variety of olives. The abundance of goods and a nice melody coming from the speakers made me feel very optimistic. I looked in the fridges at the diary department and began choosing yoghurt. I really fancied something low-fat with a strawberry flavour but since the labels weren’t really descriptive I took the first yoghurt pot and read the text on it: “Dairy product with milk thistle”.