Chapter 15
“How’s your bottle?”
“Skip, what are you talking about?”
“Your bottle, the bottle Ms. Fields brought to you?”
“How do you know about it? I thought privacy rights extended to us while in rehabilitation.”
“A bottle stops being a private matter when someone carries it through the hall on the way to you.”
“Who could have noticed?”
“Bottles are rare around here, especially empty ones going into a room instead of out of one to be actuated away.”
“Skip, you know what I mean. You’re not that slow.”
“I’m not slow at all. You haven’t seen me board.”
“No, but you’ve told me all about it with sufficient detail and on repeated occasions.”
“Don’t you sound like the star pupil?”
“I’m sounding like the angry one. Who could have seen Ms. Field’s carrying a bottle to my room other than another teacher or the nightly sweep?”
“The sweep had nothing to do with it. He barely pays attention to cleaning the floors. I hear they are always dusty. He doesn’t understand why the students can’t clean the common areas themselves like everybody else in City.”
“Then why’d he take the job?”
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“Skip, that joke was never funny.”
“It has lasted, though, and the analogy is on point.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks, Amelia. Means a lot coming from a star pupil.”
“And how do you know what the sweep pays attention to? You find a way out of your room without telling me?”
“Eventually, if you stay here long enough, they have to give you exercise privileges.”
“You’ve only been here a month longer than me.”
“Who said anything about me earning the privilege? That’s quite the logical leap, Amelia.”
“Skip, stop playing logic games and stop calling me Amelia. I told you I prefer Emmy.”
“And I prefer if you’d stop looking down on boarding.”
“Don’t you have to look down to board?”
“Not if you’re any good.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
“No, but you implied that talking about it is inefficient and redundant. I could say the same for talking about Marco.”
“They’re different.”
“Let’s not get into that again. In the end, you always admit they’re kind of the same.”
“Kind of, Skip.”
“Then understand where I’m coming from.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“A place where I’m free to board.”
“I understand that.”
“Do you know how free it feels?”
“I have an idea.”
“Maybe life as a transit wouldn’t be so bad if I could get my board back.”
“They’d insert the track in you if you left now. You’d be a transit for life.”
“Better to die on wheels than live in front of a flat screen and mini.”
“What about your parents? You’re not going to do anything irrational that would hurt them?”
“Of course not. I’m their only child. I have to keep them in mind. Plus, they don’t know how to board.”
“Good, Skip, because I can’t survive in here alone.”
“You wouldn’t have to.”
“What are talking about? Everyone else I attempted to chat seems to have graduated before I arrived.”
“Who do you think noticed the bottle?”
“Who?”
“Amelia, don’t you know it’s inefficient to answer a question with a question?”
“Then that makes two of us.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“Check the chat history.”
“Oh, I guess I did. I owe you.”
“Then tell me who.”
“A.M.”
“A.M. what?”
“A.M. is the other rehab student in here, the one with exercise privileges.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I didn’t know earlier. Just found her.”
“Found her?”
“Ran a complicated series of searches. Was trying to figure out the history of people who attended this place. I was bored. Her name popped up: the check-in date was blocked though the checkout was listed as an open field. I thought there could be worse ways to spend my time. I wrote her an email.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing at first. So I wrote her again. Figured she must be a bad influence or something for them to keep her existence sly. My kind. They must not have wanted us to find her.”
“Did she write back?
“Eventually. I had to write a few more emails, each one longer than the last. Felt like I was writing nightlies. Had to make them personal. Told her my whole sob story.”
“About missing your board?”
“What else?”
“Is there anything else?”
“Not for me. And you’re doing it again, Amelia.”
“Answering a question with a question?”
“Yes.”
“So are you, Skip.”
“That I am.”
“So did it work? Did she respond?”
“The last one moved her. Maybe she wanted to hear more about boarding.”
“Or less.”
“Or less, but she took an interest. Said she’d been in here a while. That she could help me adjust. Seemed like the caring type, so I tried to use that to open her. She didn’t say much at first, but eventually everyone chats.”
“Not Marco.”
“Right, I’ve heard that one.”
“So?”
“So we chatted. We chat. She tells me things. Like about the sweep and privileges, things I can look forward to.”
“Like what?”
“Like exercise privileges. She says if you received a bottle, maybe I could ask for a board when I earn the right to exercise. She said, ‘maybe they’ll let you board down the hall.’ But I was like, ‘ain’t going to happen.’ And it’d be a pretty lame surrogate anyway to boarding down an open road. She said it could be a start or something to hold me over till commencement. Old school, she called it commencement.”
“She knows the old phrases. What else?”
“She knows about you. To test her, see how much she knows, I asked her where they took the bottle she’d described. She said, ‘to the new girl.’ She said she saw Ms. Fields carrying the bottle to your room, which proves A.M.’s earned some right to walk the hall and knew where they kept you. She must have gained access to secure files to know who stays in what room.”
"Or else she knows I’m the only one here besides you. A fifty-fifty guess.”
“Maybe, but there could be other rooms for other things. Like where they keep the actuator or the sweep’s broom or teachers’ quarters.”
“Do they live here?
“You think I know the answer to that question?”
“Does A.M.?”
“What’s it matter?”
“Curiosity, Skip.”
“You know what curiosity to did to the cat?”
“How do you know that one?”
“There you go again, Amelia.”
“Well?”
“A.M. told me how curiosity killed the cat, nine lives and all. The phrase used to provide warning in pre-digital days when outdoor curiosity could get a young person into trouble.”
“So she is caring.”
“I guess.”
“And what’s the A.M. stand for?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t ask. You can ask her. Being into names and such. Not my bag.”
“Or rather, not your board.”
“Exactly. Now you understand.”
“I think I do, Skip.”
“Sorry about the bottle comment, Emmy.”
“No problem.”
“What’s the bottle for anyway?”
“Next time. I’m getting tired.”
“I know. Nightlies have been beast lately.”
“Yours, too?”
“Ever since I asked them for exercise privileges and a board.”