Chapter Three – The Repressed
Here's where the fun begins...
The chipmunk dressed in a black suit and red tie stood on the driveway, looking up at Simon. Simon looked down on him from the top of the short staircase leading to the Estate's main entrance.
"Yes, I remember you…" Simon stated flatly. A hint of aggression could be heard in his voice as he continued. "… Doctor."
Alvin furrowed his brow in confusion.
"I don't recall you ever visiting me at my home before," Simon continued. His eyes began to show a loosely hidden feeling of suspicion.
He took a moment to think before giving an answer to Simon's statement. "True. But things change. An… associate of mine told me that it was very important for me to see you. I mean, for you to see me."
"Oh, I see," Simon sounded wary of the words coming from Alvin's mouth. "And why exactly do I need to see you, Doctor?"
"Maybe it'd be better if you didn't call me that. You could just call me by my name, if you wanted."
Simon stared back at him, exhibiting no expression whatsoever.
"You do remember my name, right? You know who I am?"
The two chipmunks stood facing each other speaking only through their expressions. Alvin wore a look of fading optimism on his face while Simon still appeared contemptuous. After almost a minute of unbreakable silence, Simon spoke.
"Could I get you some water, Doctor?"
Alvin's hope melted from his face. Genuine sadness flashed across his eyes, but was quickly replaced with a forced smile. "That'd be great. Thank you."
Simon gave Alvin a look of contempt and turned to reenter the Estate. "Follow me, please."
Immediately upon entering, Alvin's eyes widened. He was awestruck at the sight of the massive room. Alvin craned his head upward to take in the full view of the Estate's living room. His eyes followed the gentle curve of the second floor balcony around the perimeter, finally reaching the imposing wall of windows. The windows gave Alvin sight over the grounds in the back of the Estate. From here he could see a large green space and, in the distance, the clear outline of a cemetery. Alvin pulled his vision back to within the confines of the room and continued his inspection.
His eyes were drawn to the small, black chaise lounge in the center of the living room. As he looked at it directly, Alvin's eyes lit up with recognition. He trailed behind Simon's lead and wandered closer to the chair. Reaching it, he placed a hand tentatively on the arm. Upon touching it, a square of white marble floor pulled back with a sudden click. Alvin jumped, but still kept his hand on the armrest. A black square sprung out from the floor on a thin, segmented metal arm. The arm unfolded as the panel rose and finally locked into position just to the right of the chair. As Alvin looked down on it, the blank square lit up, decorating itself with patterns of blue and white light. Although he was unable to comprehend exactly what was being displayed, Alvin knew he was looking at a control panel.
"Doctor," Simon almost shouted from the other end of the room. "This way, if you don't mind."
"Oh. I… Of course," Alvin managed to stammer. He pulled his hand back from the chair and headed toward his host. As he did, the black control panel receded into the floor, folding in on itself gracefully and finally ending its fluidic movement with a quiet click as the marble tile slid back into place.
Simon led his guest into a hallway on the right side of the living room. They walked down the corridor in silence, finally stopping at a door near the end. Simon pushed the dark wooden door open and motioned for Alvin to enter.
The two entered a streamlined kitchen. Near the back of the room was a collection of stainless steel appliances. These were surrounded by large glass cubes which appeared to serve as countertops. Above them were small, spherical light fixtures, hanging like stars from the ceiling. Closer to the door was a short glass table with two empty glasses and a plastic pitcher of water on it. Simon moved to the chair nearest the door and sat down.
Alvin continued to stand for a few seconds, trying to absorb the image of the room. He looked back down at Simon and detected an element of irritation in his face. He took his seat.
"You seem very interested in the décor of my Estate, Doctor," Simon said, feigning a pleasant tone of voice. He began pouring a glass of water for himself.
Alvin ignored Simon's remark and began to speak excitedly. "That room we were just in, the one with all the windows, is that where you sleep?" Alvin looked deeply focused on receiving an answer. His eyes were unwavering as he awaited a response.
"No. I…" Simon seemed confused at the nature of the question. "I have a room upstairs. Why?" He had put his glass down after filling it only halfway.
Alvin reached across the table to take the pitcher of water. With his other hand, he took his glass. "I thought, because of the chair…" Alvin started to say, but trailed off.
Simon looked back distrustfully, as if expecting this odd question to be a trap of some kind. He chose his words carefully. "To be honest, I never sit in that thing."
Alvin's eyes drifted away from Simon's face and down to the surface of the table. Silence endured between the two for a few moments. Simon continued to look his guest over with a suspicious eye. Alvin still had a general look of disappointment in his face. Time ticked by. Beads of condensation began to form on the side of the water pitcher and both glasses. Alvin reached out and grasped his. He raised it to his mouth, took a long drink, and placed it back on the table, being careful not to make a sound. He looked down at the table again, apparently lost in thought. Simon, sitting with his hands folded on the table, tilted his head to try to maintain eye contact.
After a few seconds, Alvin shot his gaze upward with a new sense of purpose in his deep brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Simon. I know this is kind of strange. It is for me, anyway. I can't even guess how you must feel."
Simon simply continued to stare at him.
"And it looks like I woke you up," Alvin added with a slight laugh.
"What?"
"You're still in your pajamas. Did you have a rough night?" Alvin smiled kindly. Simon continued to stare at him suspiciously.
"It seems you're right," he said without looking down to confirm the statement. "I should change."
Simon stood up. "You can wait upstairs. Follow me, please."
"Sure," Alvin said as he also stood up.
The two pushed in their chairs simultaneously, not breaking the undeclared staring contest between them. Simon led the way out from the kitchen, through the hallway in the west wing of the Estate and into the living room once again. He strode past the first flight of stairs, past the column containing the elevator and to the flight of stairs he had descended earlier. Alvin attempted to keep pace while still examining the house.
"Simon," he asked as they walked. "Where does that elevator lead?"
"I can't see how it would matter," Simon replied without breaking stride or looking back. He had a noticeable edge of aggravation in his voice. "I never use it."
The two chipmunks ascended the staircase to the second floor of the Estate. Simon turned right, following the curve of the balcony, and stopped in front of a large wooden door which had been left open. He squeezed through the opening into the green room, followed closely by Alvin.
As soon as he cleared the door, Alvin stopped and stared intently at the barred-off library. His gaze followed the line of glass bookshelves to the wooden desk in the center of the room. His eyes met the small black book lying on its surface.
"Simon, just what do you keep locked up in there?" Alvin asked only to realize that he was addressing an empty room. His face filled with disappointment again. He hung his head and stared into the detail of the dark hardwood floor. His gaze drifted first to his black shoes, then to the black sport coat he was wearing and the white button-down shirt underneath. His eyes followed the buttons up one by one until they reached the triangular point of his red tie. He lifted it away from his chest with one hand and continued to stare into it.
"Not enough, I guess," he admitted to himself. He turned slowly to look out the window. He stared out, first at the forest and second down at his car. Alvin let out a small sigh of relief when he saw that it was still idling in the driveway.
In the bathroom attached to the Estate's master bedroom, Simon stood quietly in front of his mirror. His eyes now displayed more paranoia than confusion. Dark circles had formed under them since he had seen himself last. He looked down at his sink and turned the knob labeled 'COLD.' Water began to pour down in a steady stream. He reached out and splashed some of the frigid water onto his face.
The water jolted his mind back into the present situation and away from the plaguing questions that loomed over him. He stood for a few seconds, staring into his own eyes. After deciding that they looked less anxious than before, Simon removed his glasses, lifted his pajama shirt over his head and cast it off onto the floor. As he reached for his blue sweatshirt which he had left sitting next to the sink, Simon noticed a glint of light out of the corner of his eye.
He turned his attention back to the mirror. His vision was severely blurred without his glasses, but he was able to make out the unmistakable outline of something hanging from his neck. He groped for his glasses and set them back on his face. Simon looked back at his reflection. Dangling from his neck on a thin, silver chain was a black key. He cautiously lifted a hand to grasp it.
Water was still running in the sink. Simon could hear the column of water bubble and splash into the small pool of water that had collected in the bottom of the basin. The sound it produced brought up more incomprehensible feelings of confusion. It somehow reminded him of his dream. The sound of water. Falling water. An inescapable cascade.
Waves.
Drowning.
Simon sharply pulled himself out of his thoughts when he noticed a new reflection in the mirror. The reflection of a chipmunk in a cream colored suit and a white hat. The chipmunk he had seen earlier.
He simply smiled as though he was toying with Simon, and spoke in his cheerful voice.
"Do you know the way?"
Simon shot a terrified glance backwards, but was met by nothing but the wall.
He looked back into the mirror. As before, his eyes reflected every facet of his inner fear. Simon jumped again as he heard a knock at his bathroom door.
"Simon, are you alright?" Alvin asked from the other side.
He didn't answer. He merely reached out, shut off the water faucet, and removed his glasses. He was careful to keep one hand near them as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, just in case he noticed anything else in the mirror. A few seconds later, he pushed open the bathroom door and walked into his bedroom.
"You were in there for a while," Alvin commented. "Are you alright?"
Simon said nothing. He simply stared down at the white carpet of his bedroom, trying to remember the feeling he had earlier. It did not seem to have the same ability to quiet the questions and feelings circulating in Simon's mind. It was just a carpet now. It offered no escape.
Alvin looked at him, concerned. "Simon, I saw the library you have in the next room." As he said this, Simon shifted his gaze from the floor to Alvin's eyes. "What do you keep there?"
Simon looked at him without saying a word. His eyes still betrayed his feelings of fear and confusion, as they had all day. But now they seemed to exhibit a new emotion: grief. Alvin recognized this.
"Simon, will you show me the library?"
As Alvin waited patiently for a reply, Simon reached into his shirt and removed a black key. They both walked silently out the door of the bedroom and into the green room. Simon approached the lock in the wall of bars, holding the key in one hand.
He hesitated for a moment. Of all the feelings of foreboding in this place, the most intense seemed to surround the little black book locked up in the library. Fear tried to take hold. He looked back toward the "doctor" for reassurance. Alvin simply stood behind him, a look of hope growing back into his expression.
Simon pushed the key into the lock, twisted it and listened to the tumblers drop.
Suddenly, the door snapped open with the key still in the lock. The thin silver chain snapped and was pulled from Simon's neck. When the door came to a sudden stop, the chain swayed back and forth, striking against one of the steel bars.
After the chain stopped moving, the entire room became nearly silent. The only sound that could be heard was the soft crashing of waves from somewhere beyond the forest.
With Alvin following closely behind, Simon approached the large wooden desk. He jumped onto the chair behind it and looked down on the black book. He looked up at Alvin with clear apprehension.
"Go ahead, Simon. You need to know what's in there."
Simon nodded without thinking and turned his head back down to the book. On its cover, in gold lettering, appeared the book's innocently ominous title: Event No. 2455. Simon raised a trembling hand and opened the book to a page somewhere in the middle. He looked up at the "doctor" once more.
"Read it, Simon. Read it. Understand," Alvin encouraged.
He looked back down and began to read the words on the open pages aloud.
"Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem…"
As Simon read, his thoughts began to wander as if drawn by a strong current. The library began to vanish, dissolving into a thick fog. Formlessness surrounded him, enveloping his entire reality. The general darkness of the library faded to white. The floor took on a new, white color. The walls became a calm white color and the soft sunlight pouring through the open window took on a slight flicker as fluorescent lights appeared. The chair Simon had been standing on became soft and yielding. A mattress. A bed.
Simon's eyes darted back and forth, trying desperately to reorient himself. Recognizing his brother standing off in the distance, he calmed down slightly. Alvin looked dazed and uncharacteristically solemn. He noticed a small bandage on his brother's head with a bit of blood seeping through.
Simon turned his head to see two doctors conversing at the foot of the bed he was standing on. They continued speaking to one another, completely unaware of Simon's presence. While he couldn't make out any of the words in their conversation, they seemed to understand each other perfectly well.
In actuality, he didn't want to hear what they were saying. But somehow, one word pushed through: "Unresponsive."
His eyes sank back down to the bed he was standing on. Staring intently at the white sheets, Simon noticed small muddy footprints approaching from the edge of the bed. He followed them back to his own feet. They, like the rest of him, were wet and covered in dirt. Simon now could hear large drops of water from his sweatshirt land on the soft covers of the hospital bed.
At the sight of the water and his muddy feet, his memory began to trickle back. Simon cautiously turned, not wanting to remember who he was about to see. For a moment he hesitated and considered never turning around. Never facing his fears. Choosing to live forever without the burden of this knowledge. But out of the corner of his teary eyes, he caught sight of Jeanette. She was wired to a heart monitor, which beeped steadily but slowly. He closed his eyes hard to try to fight back the tears burning his eyes.
"I miss you. Please don't stay away for much longer," he whispered. Tears poured down his face as he tried to continue speaking. "I, I… I."
"I, I, I," mocked a clear British voice from somewhere behind him. Simon turned abruptly to face the same chipmunk he had seen earlier in the mirror. Here, he was wearing a cream colored lab coat with a small red nametag that read: Dr. Tulig. He stood over the bed smiling.
Simon, still with fresh tears streaming from his eyes, scowled at the figure. Hatred flooded through his veins, pushing away the burning sadness. Part of him wanted to leap out and attack this "Dr. Tulig." Another, more prominent part wanted nothing more than to hide under the bed and try to forget what he was seeing.
Tulig parted his smiling lips and continued speaking. "…This works on you…"
Simon inhaled sharply as he snapped his eyes open. He was again in the library, facing Alvin who stood across the desk with a look of hope on his face.
"Well?" he asked optimistically.
Simon simply shuddered. "Was this a memory?" he thought. "Was I actually in a hospital, or… No. That's insane. This was a hallucination. It had to be."
"Simon!" Alvin asked, growing impatient. "What happened?"
Simon stood over the book wearing an expression of udder shock and disbelief. Not only had he not understood what had just happened, but he felt incapable of admitting to himself that the memory may have been real.
"Simon," his brother persisted. "What did you see?"
Standing with his eyes tightly shut, Simon slammed the book closed.
"I'd like you to leave now, doctor," he said quickly while trying desperately to fight back his fear and confusion.
"Simon, I don't understand. I…"
"Alvin!" he yelled. The tiredness and paranoia in his eyes had been replaced by harsh intensity and anger. "Get out."
Alvin's eyes reflected hurt from being shouted at. However, just below the surface he felt a surge of joy at being called by his real name. He nodded in acceptance and backed out of the room. He proceeded down the stairway, across the living room, past the chaise lounge, and through the automatic front door.
Simon stood in silence, staring vacantly at the floor. After a few seconds, he heard an engine fire up. He moved over to the window in the room and looked down at the Estate's driveway and the black car on it. Simon looked on as Alvin offered one last sad look before entering the vehicle and disappearing behind tinted glass.
Simon continued to stare through the window as his butler entered through the open door. He crept across the room and joined Simon in staring at the car below.
"I don't think we can expect him again anytime soon," the butler said with noticeably forced conviction.
"Alden," Simon asked, still staring blankly at Alvin's car as it proceeded past the iron gates and into the forest. "Where are we, exactly?"
"We are in the Estate, sir," the butler replied.
"But where is the Estate?" he asked in a soft tone.
The butler drew his eyes away from the window and down toward Simon.
"It's best not to think of such things." With this, he turned sharply and headed out of the room, leaving Simon to endure his thoughts alone.
