Dreams Ltd (50 page)

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Authors: Veronica Melan

BOOK: Dreams Ltd
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I was aimlessly drawing doodles on the table, lost in heavy thoughts.

 

What would I do if I’d known that a couple of hours later she’ll be found dead by the fence? Would I have interfered when she was here earlier? She wasn’t perfect but least she was alive and trying to justify herself for what she’d done? Would I have taken her side and try to affect Hulk’s decision to pass her to the Supreme Court? And would Hulk have understood me then?

 

No, I don’t think he would have done. Nobody would have done.

 

It was always very challenging for me to explain to someone that it just was not right to respond to one’s aggression with anger. I’d rather try and find a more forgiving way to solve the problem other than stoop to their level. That’s just how I was - I always believed that a kind word would do more good than bad, but not too many people followed the same logic. Not every story has a happy ending and it was naive to believe in fairy-tales. And yet, I believed - secretly, silently, without telling anyone.

 

But the reality was teaching me to see what others saw - pain, dirt, injustice, and my own powerlessness. Sometimes I was able to resist it, and sometimes - as it was now, I couldn’t. The terror of what had just happened came over me once again - Jenny was dead. She was no longer good or bad, she was just dead.

 

I suddenly became indifferent to the smell of food, to the warm evening breeze; I stopped listening to the distant voices, covered my face with my palms and started to cry.

 
 

“Are you crying because of her? Her, who gave you so much grief?”

 

Hulk’s question was logical.

 

He came back a few minutes ago and was now standing beside me on the balcony. I wiped my wet cheeks and didn’t reply, because I just didn’t know what to say. But then I tried to explain, “Maybe she wasn’t that nice. It’s very hard to be nice in Tally. But death, any death - is something horrible. How did it happen?”

 

For a while Hulk kept silent as if thinking of something.

 

“Jenny was trying to escape using the old gate. For some reason, the gap between the doors was not fixed and it was wide enough for her to squeeze through it.”

 

“And did she?” This picture was so vivid and clear before my eyes that I involuntarily shivered.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But then why did she die?”

 

“She couldn’t know that there is a three-tier protection laid out around the ranch and the fence you see is just the first obstacle. There are also wires stretched out on the ground which are very hard to notice in the daytime and not at all possible in the dark.”

 

“Did she step on one of them?”

 

“Yes. Looks like she decided to move on to the grove and hide in there, but almost immediately stepped on one of the wires.”

 

I didn’t know what to say - the heaviness on my heart was not going. There was only one question, which for some reason I wanted to ask, even though this information was useless for me.

 

“Is that quick? When you touch the wire, do you die quickly?”

 

“In most cases, yes.” I heard Hulk walking around the table and sit on his chair. The fabric of his shirt rustled, “Usually the voltage is high enough to kill in seconds. But sometimes there are exceptions.”

 

“What do you mean?” My heart missed a beat.

 

“Electricity flushed through her body, threw it backwards and her heart didn’t stop completely. I could trace a very weak pulse, which gives a hope that one day she might regain her consciousness.”

 

Stunned with the news, I could not speak.

 

So, Jenny is alive? And she might recover? Well, in that case not all the stories have bad endings; perhaps it was strange, but I felt relieved. Let Jenny’s life be whatever she wants to be in the future, but at least she’s got another chance to fight for it. Life is always better than death, because death would never let you to fix any mistakes.

 

Hulk predicted my next question before I could ask it.

 

“She is in the infirmary now, in a coma. She has a 50/50 chance of recovery. I can’t give you a prognosis.”

 

Something in his last sentence made me realise how tired he was. So I wasn’t the only one exhausted by the latest events and today’s hassle.

 

“We should eat and then get some rest. Both of us.”

 

I couldn’t see the look that Hulk gave me after these words – I felt as though it was long, thoughtful and warm.

 

“Okay.” He agreed finally and put the fork into my hand, “What does the lady prefer to start a cold dinner with?”

 
 

I certainly managed to sleep for some time.

 

The unpleasant images were disturbing me now and then, coming back and forth, but at least my memory wasn’t disappearing for too long, which was a good sign.

 

Waking up from the slumber, I felt Hulk’s warm hand hugging me through the blanket, and it was calming me down. Listening to his deep breathing I would fall asleep again.

 

Finally I woke up early that morning and worked out what the time was by my internal clock. The dawn probably wasn’t here yet as there were no birds chirping that loved sitting on the trees as soon as the first sunbeams would pierce the chilly morning air.

 

It was quiet and dark around.

 

Hulk - silent and motionless - was fast asleep. Somehow I knew he wasn’t awake yet. Because of my restless tossing and turning I rolled over to one side and wasn’t touching him. Good. Less chances to wake him up.

 

Listening to the silence, I was pondering about the ranch, about yesterday, about my life, but most of all about Hulk.

 

What is he like deep down? Does he really believe it’s all serious about us, and if so, would he be willing to open up? I desperately wanted to know more - what he did in the past that led him to this ranch and forced to settle down here, in Tally. He was not the type of person to voluntarily grow wheat. He’s got an enormous strength in his personality and such an adamant will, which most could only wish for, as well as some internal barriers, which couldn’t be opened, no matter how hard you tried, unless he gives you his permission to see more.

 

Which secrets is he hiding? Where did he get such nerves of steel and those strange abilities, which no one knew anything about? If Hulk could so easily deal with the memory of another person, what else could he do? This trick with the “Blind” could not be learned on its own… but what other knowledge did he have?

 

“The Commission” must be involved.

 

I didn’t know much about it, really, at least, no more than others. They bounded authorities of all cities - those strange people in silver uniforms with two white stripes on their sleeves. They didn’t have an office building with The Commission title on it, where one could go to with a complaint or suggestion, but, nevertheless, they kept their eye on everything. Another strange thing about them was that they hardly ever interfered into any situations unless they wanted to. Some people were scared of them, some were worshiping them, as for me, I’ve never seen any of them.

 

Some said that the first meeting would always be the last, while others hoped to sniff out more information after getting closer to them, except no one could say exactly what one must do in order for such a meeting to take place.

 

Some people were confused and wondering, some anticipated who knows what; some feared and respected them whilst trying to keep their distance.

 

It’s not possible to understand more about something you don’t know and you don’t see.

 

The Commission would never fine for any violations, they never broadcasted anything on TV, or proposed to elect their own members, and generally never exposed themselves, apart from some exceptional cases. But yet, it existed and everyone knew that for sure.

 

I could bet my right arm that the Commission taught Hulk what he knew. So who is he really? Maybe it was too naive to think that nobody would want to live in Tally out of free will? Maybe it was Hulk who chose this place, knowing that he could earn good money and not be deprived of power over the others? After all, he was visiting the local clubs, drinking with other “owners”; he let his guards beat the prisoners and looked calm and collected whilst watching such atrocities, overall, he seemed quite content living on this ranch.

 

It was strange, even absurd.

 

Thinking logically, it was fairly natural - any person who wanted to get a respectable income and a high status in society (even society here) could get the relevant documents, come to Tally and settle down here, enjoying the cruelty of the local laws that allowed to ruthlessly exploit the labour of prisoners to your own benefit.

 

But was Hulk really like that?

 

Did he really take pleasure from the beating of the prisoners, this forsaken ranch and could he really live happily ever after, managing the guards and collecting profit from the countless harvests? Something inside of me refused to believe it. He wasn’t that type of person. He demonstrated too much fairness in some situations, where (if he was really selfish) he could have just turned the blind eye.

 

Yes, occasionally, some prisoners were still dying from the beatings. Hence, for some reason, Hulk needed to maintain this appearance of a "cruel owner", but he wasn’t cruel inside, I could have sworn on it.

 

Then who was he - the man sleeping by my side within a hand reach? Why was he here? Why does he do what he does even though it’s not logical?

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

The sound of his voice made me startle.

 

“Do you have a headache?” Hulk sounded worried and touched my forehead.

 

I unwittingly pulled the blanket over my chin, as if it could help me to hide my recent thoughts and doubts.

 

“No, I don’t have a headache. I was just... reflecting.”

 

“On what?”

 

I chuckled - he just woke up and he wants to know everything! But should I say it aloud or not? Or should I lie that I was thinking about myself or tell the truth that all my thoughts were about him? What will be will be!

 

“About you.”

 

The sheets rustled and the mattress sagged - Hulk leaned on his elbow and now was much closer to me. In a second he carefully stroked my cheek with his fingers and his warm breath touched my forehead.

 

“What exactly?”

 

I hesitated. I didn’t know how to combine the words into a single structure that would accurately and unobtrusively express my thoughts. I either must be honest from start to end, be ready to hear the truth, or beat around the bush, trying to gather the information bit by bit, without being scared to hear a response, which I might not like.

 

His fingers began gently stroking my cheek, distracting me from my dilemma.

 

But I didn’t want to play any games. If he refuses to answer my direct questions, so be it, but I’ll know now and not later. I decided to get straight to the point.

 

“I was thinking that everything that’s going on between us means that we are getting closer...”

 

“And?”

 

The question didn’t sound irritated, more curios. It was reassuring.

 

“And that means that soon from two people who are attracted to each other we’ll become something... more?”

 

Hulk kept silent waiting for me to continue.

 

“Is that correct?”

 

“Yes. Does it scare you?”

 

“Yes and no.” To explain what I was thinking appeared to be harder, but I wasn’t about to give up, “I’m not scared to think that I’ll be with you... It’s quite the opposite, I want it...”

 

“So what scares you then?”

 

“I’m scared of my desire to know more about you. I want you to open up to me.”

 

“Have you got any specific questions?”

 

“Yes.” I hesitated.

 

Maybe he wasn’t planning any serious relationship with me, and here I am - early in the morning, starting on him with the complicated female demagoguery. I should have kept silent! I silently swore to myself - why did I have to start this bloody topic first thing in the morning? He’s just woken up and I’m already trying to turn him inside out. What should I do now? Keep on pulling the answers out of him, or shut up and go against myself.

 

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