CHAPTER TWENTY

The silence is oppressive, radiating outward from the enormous desk where Franklin sits in his even more enormous and fancy suite. Franklin’s attention, for the moment, is focused on an open copy of the conduct manual.

Hannah has been summoned to the meeting as well. She sits between Charlie and me, providing an awkward buffer.

Not daring to speak, I focus instead on my new surroundings. Exotic wall hangings from what I assume to be far-flung corners of the world, or otherworld, decorate the space. The entire wall behind Franklin’s desk is a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, boasting an impressive collection and not one spare inch of space.

Charlie leans forward to look around Hannah. “Dez, I know you’re upset—”

“Don’t bother, Charlie.”

Franklin points an index finger at us, not bothering to look up from the manual. “Not a word. Not one single word until after those you use to explain what in the hell happened.”

“Ask Herc,” I say.

Hannah looks at me, horrified. A clear message of Have you lost your mind? is transmitted through her eyes.

My words are enough to pull Franklin from his reading. “Someone has been dispatched to locate him. Right now, I’m asking you.”

“Fine,” I say, steeling myself. “But first, I want to know how Herc knows how I died.”

“What?” Franklin seems genuinely baffled.

“In the middle of all the crap he was saying to me, he said something about it.” My throat burns. I swallow back a wave of nausea. “Did you tell him?”

“I haven’t shared the details of your death with anyone. But I promise I’ll look into it.” He jots a quick note on a file folder. “Now, why don’t you tell me what exactly happened out there?”

The words tumble out as I explain the confrontation with Herc, leaving out any mention of the interrupted conversation that started it all. I finish with an angry glare directed at Charlie.

He leans forward and gives me a pleading look.

“Leave me alone,” I mouth back at him.

Hannah stands. “Move over,” she orders me, pointing to her chair.

“I don’t think so, Hannah.”

“Move it. I’m not sitting between you two. Especially when I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll get to that,” Franklin says, “but first I want everyone to sit down and calm down.”

“That’s fine,” Hannah says. She points again to her empty chair. “Move over, Dez.”

“Forget it,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Enough!” Franklin barks.

Charlie, Hannah, and I jump as one, startled by his anger.

“Dez, move.” Franklin points to the empty chair. “Hannah, sit. Everyone, quiet.”

Hannah and I quietly shift spots.

Franklin rubs his face and exhales a long, frustrated breath. “I’m going to tell you some things. When spoken to, I want you to answer only what I ask, and nothing more. Am I clear?”

The three of us nod.

“Good. Let’s start with why I’ve asked Hannah to join us.” With a pen, he puts an “X” next to a passage in the conduct manual. He heaves the tome across the desk, and it lands with a thud. “Read it. All three of you.”

The teenage soul is more prone to emotional attachment and feelings of romantic love than its adult counterpart. It is natural to develop strong feelings for those who share your journey at Atman. However, it is crucial that all residents avoid amorous entanglements as such relationships can hinder progress, interfere with focus, delay ascension through levels, and, in some cases, prevent moving on. A healthy kinship is beneficial to the therapeutic process, but feelings and relationships beyond the confines of a supportive friendship should be avoided at all costs.

“You’re a level nine, Hannah,” Franklin says. “We expect more of you.” She opens her mouth to object, but he waves her off. “You know full well how it goes. We have eyes everywhere, and this is your official warning. You should be adopting a leadership role on this floor, not falling prey to petty romantic jealousies.”

Her cheeks turn red. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Good.” Franklin straightens a stack of papers on his desk. “Charlie, I know you were sticking up for your roommate. Given his background, it was reasonable, but you have to understand where Dez is coming from.”

“I’m really sorry.” Charlie hangs his head. The sorrow on his face puts a small crack in my granite wall of anger.

“As to the matter of Herc’s behavior,” Franklin says, “I will make it crystal clear that it is not to be repeated. You shouldn’t have any more trouble with him, Dez.”

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“But I expect no antagonism from you, understood? You and Herc will work out your differences.” He looks up at the clock on the wall, then back at us. “You three have a little over an hour left in open rec. I am giving you permission to go to the park, the cafeteria—wherever you need to go to work out your differences. I want whatever this is between you three settled by Sharing Circle. Do I make myself clear?”

We all nod, silent.

Hannah leads the way back to the lounge, where, per her suggestion, we agree it will be best to meet up in twenty minutes in the cafeteria on the first floor of our tower. The cooling-off period will do us all some good, she says.

I flop onto a couch facing a window with a view of the beautiful, forbidden Atman City. I close my eyes and lean back, my thoughts drifting to the phone call that ended it all. I’m stuck here because my phone rang and I chose that moment to make the dumbest—and last—decision of my life. I guess an acceptance letter from an Ivy League school doesn’t mean you aren’t an idiot.

My future was in biomedical engineering. Not this.

I was going to cure Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, maybe even cancer.

Serves me right for getting cocky and thinking I had a bright future, when I had none at all.

The sound of Bobby’s approaching footsteps gets my attention. “Would it be too forward of me to join you?” he asks.

“Of course not. Have a seat.” I pick at a loose thread on the couch.

“I’ve just been informed you were subjected to a most unpleasant exchange with one of the more challenging members of our floor.” He shakes his head in dismay. “Quite distasteful.”

“That seems to be Herc’s style.”

“I have an observation of life and the universe I find germane to the conversation.”

“Well, let’s hear it.”

“In the interest of full disclosure, I must clarify. It is an observation, not my observation.”

“Duly noted, Bobby,” I reassure him.

“I find the topic of intolerance and hostility toward our fellow man—or woman, as the case may be—to be endlessly fascinating, if only for one important reason. Upon witnessing the events involving you and young Heracles—”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “His name is Heracles?”

Bobby chuckles. “No, no. His name is Hercules, but I quite enjoy referring to him in the original Greek form, as it seems to cause great irritation on his part. I succumb to childish urges on occasion, you see. If I am in the right mood, I’ll call him ‘Son of Zeus.’”

“Does he even get the Zeus reference?”

“No.”

Funny guy, that Bobby. “So, what were you going to tell me?”

“Yes, to the original point. The fascination I have with those who promote hatred and intolerance is they fail to understand a universal truth. The famed cosmologist Allan Sandage beautifully said, ‘Every one of our chemical elements was once inside a star. The same star. You and I are brothers. We came from the same supernova.’ This is, in fact, quite true, despite Sandage’s dalliances in the decidedly unscientific realm of religion.”

He gives me time to let the words sink in, then stands and makes an abrupt departure.