Chapter Two: Recognition
I enter the kitchen the next morning and Roy is there. He gives me an unshaven smile while he rummages through the freshly stocked cabinets. I move past him, taking the sunniest path across the kitchen, and perch in the window. I sigh as I feel the sandy ledge grate beneath me and my eyes focus on the familiarity. The blue has grown overnigh, stretching itself into separate arms. I watch them waver, shift, and pull, and I feel recognition deep in my chest, a painful one that should be obvious. But I often feel this way about many things.
"Ed, did you really forget that it was your birthday yesterday?" He inquires, mumbling around a mouthful of food. I turn to face him, a bit puzzled at first, but then I remember the cake.
"Yeah, I did. Why does it matter anyway?" I watch him closely, attempting to gauge the significance of this conversation.
"Well you didn't forget last year," he observes.
"That was because you wouldn't stop talking about it the whole week before," I tell him, giving him a rather dry look.
"You were turning 18! I couldn't just ignore that," he sniffs defensively. The topic dies there, and I turn back towards the window.
Roy departs from the room with a clatter, dropping a supposedly tempting breakfast on the table. He's always telling me I'd starve if wasn't for him. I just don't like eating. He also claims to be a good cook, or he used to claim it. He stopped telling people that because I'd laugh every time. When I found out he was serious I felt bad, I just thought he was trying to be funny.
I apologized, but I think it still may be a sore spot for him. I try not to dwell on these unimportant things; there are more important things at hand. My eyes unfocus, taking in everything ahead of me and nothing around me. The whole of desert swells, spitting out the black sky and in fountains that blue, the maddening blue.
"Edward?" It sounds like a mumble.
"Mn."
"You okay?"
"Mn."
"You haven't eaten your breakfast," says the voice in a soft hurt tone. I am relaxed and comfortable.
"Mn."
"Edward, if you don't snap out of I'm going to touch you." It's all garble and mumble. I can hear the words but my mind cannot find their meanings. Words are so annoying with their meanings.
"Mn."
"I'm going to touch you now," warns the mumbly monster.
Then the swirl of black and white disappears and there's a cold pressure around my chest and chills traveling down my back.
"That's it; I'm getting you out of here." Roy sounds angry again, and I'm too surprised to struggle, so instead I shout my protest. "You need something else to do. This isn't healthy." I feel incredulous and angry, but that was the end of the discussion. He is determined and if I refuse, he'll grind me down till surrender, even if it takes days. Judging by the sky, we don't have many days left.
His body is still firmly against mine as he pulls me down the stairs. He is too rough and I am afraid of falling, so I bite him. The startled cry pleases me, I am angry at the loss of my dignity. I stride ahead, and lock up my front door. One time someone broke in while I was gone. Nothing was taken, but they broke many things. I did not mind, I never use anything, but there was fuss from the neighbors. I do not like fuss, and all the people that come around when it happens. One woman brought me dinner because my pots were broken. I took it, but I didn't eat it. Her cooking is bad too.
Roy waits patiently while my mind is distracted, holding his car door open. I contemplate running for it, but that would make Roy angrier, with considerable and showy reluctance I get in. The air inside is boiling and it calms me slowly. He sets it to cool, blasting it. I don't argue, because he has never done that before. I am still angry, but I am concerned. Roy seems stranger than usual.
" Roy?" My voice sounds strange to me, stilted.
"Mn." His knuckles are white and he's driving fast enough to kick up clouds.
"Are you okay?" The whiteness in his joints dissipates, color rushing back to the area. The car slows, and he exhales a heavy breath. I feel better, Roy angry is something uncontrollable, or so some people on the street say. I heard he broke someone's arm once; it's an exciting thought really. My eyes are still locked on him. His face is smooth from his shave, to make him look younger is what he tells me. There's a crease between his eyes that only appears when he is tense and troubled. I want to smooth it out with my fingers.
"You—looked like you were going to sleep again." I can't bring myself to reply, because it felt like I was going to sleep again. I try to smile when he gives me a worried glance. I must've been smiling because he did so back.
"I'm not going to go to sleep again. I don't even feel tired." I make my tone sympathetic, emulating all the concerned people in those movies Roy sometimes made me watch. He laughs softly, slightly strained, but the crease between his eyes disappears. "Where are you taking me?" I do not recognize this area of the city. The sand here looks darker and cooler.
"To my house. You're going on vacation." He looks satisfied. It's the small victories that matter most to him.
"Where are we?" He gives me one of those brief surprised glances. He should know that I never leave the house save for at night.
"You've never been in the basin before?" More surprised blinking. I look out the window again. We are on a slant, pointing down. I knew there was a depression on the other side of the city, but not one this great. He opens the window. "The temperature is more reasonable here," he says with a grin. Being back home apparently is making him far more comfortable. I continue to survey my surroundings.
It isn't that different from the area that I live in. The houses are built in the same manner, sand still blows up and down the streets. I manage to even recognize a few storefronts. Then I realize the glaring error, what is missing, is the horizon. The sky stretches out overhead, dipping into the rows of houses and towers, and then vanishes. There isn't a speck of blue in sight. I'm sure Roy is very pleased with my display of shock as he parks in the alley beside his apartment.
"I live on the second story," he purrs smugly. I bite back a complaint. I can defy him tonight, and slip out undetected. He guides me inside, and I am disappointed by the cleanliness of the complex. I sure Roy's room will not be any dirtier, but no matter, I bring the desert will me wherever I go. Roy's swears I sweat sand in my sleep. It's the only way to explain the state of my home.
I receive a standard tour because I have never been in his home before. I have to admit I feel out of place at the vastness of our differences. The entirety of his apartment is clean and cool with a surprising lack of books considering his occupation. The sheets on his bed are soft and his walls are the color of the blue in the sky. There are more pictures on his mantle; they are pictures of things that you would see in any person's house. Someone once told me there is a lot you can learn from these pictures and since I do not know Roy that well, I make a point to study them closely. It is strange that I cannot even remember a time without Roy, but still know so little.
There are more pictures of him and his sister, some with other members of his family as well. Nothing in the background looks familiar though, especially the ones with more of the soft blue. Recognition shifts places in my brain again, circling closer to the surface. In one they are standing in front of something green that was spiking from the ground. The bizarreness of its appearance made me laugh aloud. Laughter quickly turns to shock as Roy administers a soft tug to my braid.
"Being nosy now?" He asks, quirking a suspicious brow.
"No I'm not. These are sitting out in plane sight," I retort. I didn't mean to be cheeky, but I know that is was what it sounded like. He sighs softly, releasing hold of my hair. I shudder as his fingers brush down the small of my back accidentally. The room feels warmer now, and I feel strangely flushed. He moves away, walking around the room to tidy up a bit more.
"There anything you want to do," he asks casually, and I start to open my mouth, but he cuts me off "besides go home." He eyes me meaningfully. I sulk and move to a window before I realize that there was not much point. His eyes are still on me as I continue to stand there, still feeling petulant and not wanting to allow him the satisfaction of seeing me realize my error. My eyes rove over what little I can see, trying to formulate some plan of escape. A door lock sounds behind me; it doesn't surprise me that he senses my intentions.
"Do you not trust me?" I ask, turning to face him. He looks a bit surprised, but there isn't a trace of confusion of his face.
"Honestly, no. I don't trust you to stay here all night voluntarily," he replies as he moves to a closet, finding fresh sheets. I stand there still, watching his front door as his footsteps move down the hall and into the guest room.
That night I paced the guestroom floor for hours. My mind was in turmoil; I could flee this room easily since my bedroom door was left unlocked. On the other hand I'd be letting Roy down, the thought of his anger frightens me, and the thought of his immense disappointment brings about feelings that are still unidentifiable. My intense deliberation brings me to one conclusion; I just need to be sure I return before he awakens.
My feet easily find their way to the desert, only having to scale a rather impressive wall holding back the sand to get there. Outside my lungs savor the fresh air, though here it feels strangely heavy, and my eyes take in the sky. I continue my steady pace forward, pleased to find the air here calmer. My eyes are to the sky, taking in the vastness of blue here at the edges of the world. There is nearly no black left to be seen. It to takes up most of the sky here, the long slender fingers prying their way into our world. Can the others really not see this?
A strange sound comes to my ears, a rustling like beetles skittering over sand, and the ground feels softer. I look down in confusion, and then stare in amazement as the green shoots from the photo. Instantly my fingers reach out to investigate their surface finding them soft and very smooth. My hands continue to roam their tops as I wander deeper and their numbers are denser. In a fit of paranoia I glance behind me. The lights of civilization are no longer visible, and I am surprised at the distance I have covered, but time moves strangely out here.
Ahead I can see something glinting and an oddly familiar smell reaches my nose. My hands begin to tremble, and my footfalls take on a hesitance. I am scared, and I do not know why. It is soft, and it is shifting, and it fills a hole in the ground before me. I kneel, my whole body beginning to tremble, and explore its surface. It ripples and breaks, my fingers finding little resistance. I shudder, feeling inside, it is damp like the shadows. I pull my hand back and move to rise, when I hear a crack and feel pain blossom in my skull. Then there is nervous shuffling, and the feeling of dirt against my cheek.