Disclaimer: I don't own any of these people. Irvine belongs to Square, and the young lady in question belongs to Warner. Don't sue me cause, since I am not making money off this, you won't get anything.
Contact: Mail, LiveJournal
A Day
by: Laura Owen
Irvine lay on his bed, absently looking through a magazine. With the thick walls of The Park blocking out most of the normal house noises, there was little to distract him and right now, that was fine. But he could feel it coming. In about five minutes he was going to have to get up, put some clothes on and go do something. If he didn't, very simply, he would go crazy.
He rolled over and held the magazine up over his head letting the centerfold unfold to his chest. Giving the picture there an appraising glance and finding it lacking, he snapped the pages closed.
It wasn't like he hadn't done anything all day. She had been so kind since he arrived. She had given him just as much freedom as The Others had even if he wasn't one of The Chosen. Irvine thought that She actually liked him a lot, even if he wasn't like The Others. No, he was very different here.
He had asked She if he had free reign in The Park. She had told him that he could go anywhere he pleased, but to be sure to knock before going into a room with a card in the slot under the little metal plate in the door.
He had noticed that the slot on his door didn't have anything in it. When he had wondered why, one of The Others told him that he needed to come up with a card for it.
"How do I do that?" He had asked.
The Other, who turned out to be a rather attractive teenage girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes, had told him to just think one up. The little things, she had explained, were for him to decide. All he had to do was think it up, and he would get it one way or another.
Irvine had thanked her. Flashed her a smile.
He'd wandered around the house for a while, looking at the cards in the doors. Some of them were very new looking. Others, on the higher floors were yellowing. The little cards came in all shapes and sizes. Some were just a name in black on a white card. Others were very ornately engraved. He could not read a single one. None of the letters made sense.
Tucked back in a distant corner, he had found a door with about a hundred little cards in a hundred little slots. He had knocked, but never got an answer.
He didn't want to know what was in there.
All the cards were crumbling.
Irvine had gone outside after that. He had wandered around a bit. Two of The Others had been making out under the arbor outside The Library. That had made him wonder just how much She knew about what went on at The Park.
That's when it had happened. That is when a very large black Bird had began to circle his head. Before he could react, the Bird had dropped an envelope at his feet. He had opened it. It was from She.
Irvine,
Sorry to keep you waiting. Had a required meeting this morning. Your Range is ready. If there is anything out of order, let me know.
She always was so informal, so thoughtful. When he had looked up, he was at his Range. His Range. None of The Others would have any use for this. None of them knew about guns and ammo. The only one of The Others that he thought would want to see His Range was the blond boy. The one in the room next to his. But that was not a problem.
He had turned in a complete circle and noticed that The Park was visible from His Range. The Park never left sight, actually. He learned that later while he walked along The Pond. But while he had been at His Range, he had noticed movement in one of the second floor windows of The Park. At the other end of the hall from his room.
Movement.
And a pair of brown eyes.
Watching him.
But when he had looked that way, the eyes had vanished. The curtain dropped closed. But he had seen her. He had smiled, then made use of His Range. And all of his upgrades.
"I'm glad She doesn't know much about my world," he had thought.
When he had gotten bored, he had gone for a walk. Down to The Pond. The Pond was nice, he had guessed. That was when he had noticed that there was no place on The Park Grounds where The Park couldn't be seen. At The Pond, he had been able to see the Back Porch and The Loggia.
He had also seen a whip of curly brown hair.
He didn't think she had been watching that time.
But the curls were there.
Softened by the sheers on The Loggia doors.
Through the Reading Hall.
To The Library.
To test his theory about The Park being constantly visible, he had walked into The Woods. He had gone for several miles through the tangled brush. Every time he turned, no matter how high the trees, he had always been able to see part of The Park.
Proof in head, he had returned to The Park. He had gone back in through The Hillside. Walking back to his room, he had gone through The Pool, The Birthday Room, and lots of halls with triangular joints in the stone.
He had seen several of The Others on that walk.
The Others had been really nice. They had all told him something useful, when he had asked.
The Other that told him where The Kitchen was had been an Adult. He had made a note of the wavy black hair and pointed ears. The Adult had been slightly transparent.
Another Adult, this time a tall, very solid redhead, had pointed him to the quickest way back to The Clutch where he and all The Other kids were.
He didn't know how he felt about being put in The Clutch.
Young as he was, he felt a lot older.
An Adult had passed him on The Stairs. She had been very pretty. Black hair, cut short. She had smiled at him and walked on.
Not as friendly as The Other with brown curls.
He had gone back to his room and showered. He hadn't bothered to dress. Seemed pointless when he was left alone. He had worked on a door card for a while.
He had thrown away several.
Until he had it perfect.
And he had it perfect.
Simple.
His Name. His Gun.
Brown paper.
Simple.
He had stretched out on the bed and flipped pages for an hour. None of those girls were like….
What was her name?
He hadn't cared about names since he had gotten to The Park. Now, he cared. But only about hers. What was the name of The Other with brown eyes? How could he find out?
Finally, Irvine got up. He walked to the closet and opened the door. It was empty. He panicked. Turning around, he wondered where he could find something clean. He wondered if he thought about what he wanted to wear it would just appear.
He tried.
It worked.
The closet filled before his eyes with all kinds of comfortable clothes. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a purple suede vest. Neither felt new. They both felt like he had worn them so many times they were fitted to him.
It felt good.
Really good.
He pulled on a pair of gray socks he found in a drawer. Those were just right too. Nice and loose around his toes. He grabbed his door card and left his room. He wondered if he could redecorate his room by thought.
He tried it from the hall.
He'd see if it had worked later.
Right now, he was on a mission. He had to know her name.
But he was hungry too.
Food first. A man cannot live on affection alone, you know.
His feet made quiet patting noises in the empty halls. The Park was so big. He wondered how he didn't get lost. But the trip to The Kitchen was no big deal. At the bottom of The Stairs, there were several Shadows. But there wasn't anyone around. Just Shadows of nothing. He was a little creeped out by them. They just stood, huddled together; their Shadow features all looking up at the Writing Office. Where She always came from.
He hadn't been there yet.
Only The Chosen went there.
Arriving in The Kitchen, he was amused to find no food. No Food. Maybe he just had to think it there.
He tried.
It didn't work.
His stomach growled.
Then he saw it. A small note attached to a butcher block in the center of the room. It was labeled Instructions. He leaned over and read it.
Instructions
To use The Kitchen, open the cabinet that corresponds with your needs. Select a recipe and read the recipe out loud, step by step. When you finish reading, your food will be ready in the oven, refrigerator, microwave, freezer, or countertop.
BE SURE TO SPEAK CLEARLY!
Okay. No problem. He scanned the cabinets and saw that each one carried a tiny engraving that told what it contained. He opened the 'casserole' door and looked through the recipes there. He pulled out one that was labeled Mom's Biscuit Thing.
Even if it did have 'thing' in the name, he was going to try it. He read off the recipe as clearly as he could and could hear things happening in The Kitchen, even though he couldn't see a thing. When he said, "Bake at three fifty for forty five minutes," something began to smell fantastic.
He looked up from the card and saw a light was on in the oven. A bubbly concoction was sitting on the top rack.
He was impressed.
He was also no longer alone.
Four of The Others were in the kitchen now. He would have thought that they had just popped out of thin air, but that wasn't it at all. The Others were crowded around the door of The Kitchen, sniffing the air.
He offered them some of Mom's Biscuit Thing and everyone went into raptures. One of The Others, a red-haired boy from The Clutch had told him that the 'mom' was She's mother. She's mother was a wonderful cook.
When he had asked if all of the recipes were from She, an Adult with long dark hair (he was beginning to notice a trend in hairstyles) and long black robes had told him that more than half of the recipes came from The Others.
The Adult had named names.
Irvine didn't catch any of them.
They sounded like nonsense.
Another one of The Others in The Kitchen had agreed with the Adult. He was another member of The Clutch with black hair and round glasses. He was one of The Others that he had seen earlier that morning under the arbor.
The Others left. He started putting dishes in the sink and wondering out loud why he couldn't grasp the names of these people.
He heard an amused snort behind him.
He had turned to see the blonde haired boy he that slept next door to him. The boy had told him that he had a Block. When he questioned the boy, The Other just smirked at him and told him that before he could learn names, he would have to find where his Block was. The Other would tell him no more than that.
Then The Other had left.
He didn't like him at all.
But he wasn't going to think about that. He still had to try to find out what the brown-eyed girl's name was. He had to!
He was becoming obsessed with this name thing.
He left The Kitchen and walked down the hall. He heard snatches of a song coming from somewhere further on. He walked a little farther and the song become clearer. Slow and almost mournful.
I've known of
Your secluded nights
I've even seen her
Maybe once or twice
He approached the room that the song was coming from. The voice was not perfect. But it was nice enough. A little edgy.
But this time before you leave my arms
And rush off to her charms
Think it over. Haven't I been good to you?
Think it over. Haven't I been sweet to you?
It was her. The brown eyed girl. Her back was to him, her arms spread towards the large windows that looked over The Park Grounds. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Lost in her.
I've tried so hard, to be patient
Hoping you'd stop this infatuation
Each time you are together
I am so afraid I'll be losing you forever
The brown-eyed girl had turned around on the last line, but her eyes were closed. He was invisible to her. Her hands had gone to her chest, lying flat, fingers framing her neck. He could feel his feet moving silently over the floor as he walked toward her.
Stop, in the name of love
Before you break my heart
Her arms had come out, pushing something invisible away from her body. He had narrowly missed getting hit. Her eyes, those brown eyes, had stayed closed. As her arms fell to her sides at the end of the song, he was so close to her, he could feel her breath on his skin.
"If someone is treating you like that, I'll kill him," he said as her eyes opened.
Her mouth opened in a short scream and she took several steps backwards.
He apologized for scaring her. Just happened by. He didn't move at all, as much as he wanted to. Her cheeks went very red.
The brown-eyed girl stammered when she said that she hadn't known anyone was around. Clearly he had made her nervous. Scared her to death. Made her lower lip tremble.
Damn it all.
She asked him what he was doing here.
He asked where he was.
She told him he was in the Dessert Kitchen.
Two Kitchens, he had wondered.
One for the normal food, one for the sweets.
He loved watching her mouth move. Her lips were just the right color to make them look delicious. He wanted to see how truthful looks could be.
But he didn't.
Hell, he didn't even know he name.
Her name.
He had asked her before he knew what he was saying.
She answered.
He understood her.
He closed the space between them in an instant. He had felt her tense for the briefest instant, as he tasted the soft sweet flavor of caramel.
Lyrics, 'Stop in the name of love,' as performed by Jonelle Mosser, © 1998 MCA Records, Inc. From the Hope Floats Soundtrack.
[Home] [Next]