Chapter 3
Bee awoke in the same flowery, pleasantly-scented field as before. Immediately she sat up and looked around at her surroundings. This time, the forest she'd had ventured into before was facing her back, and in the distance opposite of the forest there was a large mansion. Strangely there were no trees or garden around the building, as if someone had placed it there into existence. It was the crack of dawn, the crisp morning air was rustling the forest south, and the sun was just starting to rise ever so slowly. Bee had decided to go to the mansion to see if anyone could tell her where she is.
Upon nearing this place Bee realized that it wasn't someone's home, but more of a clubhouse or grand inn. There were numerous windows all evenly laid out against the wall, and a sign next to the building reading "WELCOME" in a renaissance-styled font. Bee could hear someone playing the piano in a ragtime fashion on the other side of the door. She started to slowly open it with a creak, but suddenly it swung open as if by its own massive, abrupt force. What laid in front of Bee was a grand hall adorned with historical-looking oil paintings, various bouquets sitting neatly in centre of tables scattered across a marble checkerboard-patterned floor, with a black and white pattern. A stage with a red velvet curtain hung ahead at the very back, and on a nearby platform was the source of the music. It appeared to be a tall, lanky figure also dressed in a checkerboard suit, wearing a mask with a cartoonish smile from ear to ear (if it had ears), teeth only shown. And to complete the look was a classic top hat with a white band. It seemed the perfect size for this musical figure. To Bee, the way he played was strange yet mesmerizing. He emphasized every movement of the keys with his whole body, each succession of notes bringing more character and enthusiasm. Bee could stand there watching this mysterious figure play for hours, hitting each note with stiff yet vibrant motions, if such a feat was possible. "Oh, are you perhaps a guest here?" A voice called out from Bee's left. It was a gaudily-dressed woman in around her late 40s, a stereotypical high-class owner of an establishment such as this one.
"Welcome to my tea shop, please sit anywhere you like." She continued.
"I'm sorry, but where is this?"
"This is a place where one can enjoy the high-class of living. Our leaves are picked from only the finest sources, and come at a hefty price."
"Well, I do like tea. But I don't have any money."
"Nonsense!" The woman had already started pouring Bee a cup. "First drink is on the house. After all, you are the first customer we've had in months!"
Bee was handed the cup of tea and took a light sip. She thanked the woman and sat at a nearby table. For a few minutes, she politely sipped her tea while listening to the mad pianist. For some reason the music soothed her. It made her feel nostalgic, despite never hearing this song in her life. Bee turned her head to the entrance, where the woman was staring out the window giving off a vibe of melancholy. Finished with her tea, Bee decided to console her. "So, business has been slow?" She asked the woman upon walking to her. "Yes, it has been a slow year. Hardly anyone comes by these days." Bee tried to figure out what to say in a situation like this.
"Mm-hmm. So what's it like running a place like this?"
"Most of the time it's rather boring. I spend most of my hours here reading and knitting."
"What about that piano player? Don't you ever talk to him?"
"Oh no, he can't speak. He's a strange fellow, he is. One day he just… strolled in his comical suit and started playing the piano, day and night. He doesn't say a word, nor does he move from that spot."
"He just keeps playing forever?"
"Oh no, of course he sleeps. And it's always at the exact same time I do."
"I've gotta say, he plays well. And I love the atmosphere."
"Yes, which is why I don't understand how there's no business."
"Maybe it's because you set up shop in the middle of a forest."
"What are you saying?"
Bee thought her last remark might've offended the owner. "Like… it's not really good for business if it's not near anyone."
"That's absurd, we're right beside the town square!"
"Wait, what?"
Bee peered out the next window, and to her surprise she saw a bustling crowd of townsfolk on the other side. "This doesn't make sense!" She frantically reached for the door and swung it open in a single motion. The town's image burst out from the old wooden door, displaying the lively environment. The sun shone through neatly scattered clouds of a generic puffy shape. The roads and buildings were built out of white and gray stones, with bright blue roof tiles blending with the overall scenery. In the distance a shore was seen past the main road, with several merchants and shops between it and her. It was definitely a town from an older time, perhaps around the early 1900s. Bee stepped out in awe, taking in the sheer beauty of this new setting. A pedestrian riding a bike sped past her, who seemed to yell something at that exact moment, which she didn't catch. Bee remembered seeing a town just like this in a painting or illustration, but she couldn't remember what.
Strolling down the main path, Bee found herself in a local market, with stalls lined up next to each other selling fresh fruit, meat and other food items. Further down the road there were stalls selling clothing and children's toys, not to mention the many indoor shops that walled this road. "Where to go from here…" Bee thought to herself. She realized that she had been aimlessly walking around with her head in the clouds. She needed a goal point. A clear objective. It was at this moment where she was distracted by a passerby riding a strange-looking bicycle made of reflective brass. Instead of standard wheels it seemed to be running on this one long rail, resembling a snowmobile. Its frame was more bulky and twisted than most bicycles, but it still had normal handlebars and kept the overall bicycle shape. Bee promptly chased the vehicle down a winding path of alleyways and roads, for no reason in particular (or none she could think of). She didn't get a very good look at the person riding the bicycle, just that he was wearing a navy blue outfit with a black helmet. After several minutes of Bee chasing and calling out to the rider, it finally stopped in front of a shop building. She caught up to it once the rider dismounted. "Hey! I was… trying to get your… attention…" Bee said heavily panting. "Hold on… let me just…" She continued to huff and groan. Finally, the rider took off his helmet to address Bee, and to her surprise she looked up to find that it was Deckard the whole time. "Deckard?! What?!" She yelled out in confusion. "I'm sorry, what was that?" Deckard asked while resting his bike.
"Why are you here? And why didn't you respond?"
"Well, I work here. And I can't hear anything while wearing this helmet." Deckard tapped the helmet sitting on the bike seat.
"What do you mean you work here? Where are we?"
"I don't really know how to answer that… I guess we're on Cobble Street?"
"No, I mean this place! Can't you just tell me, Deckard?"
"Deckard? Oh, I'm sorry but I think you have me confused for someone else."
"Wait, so you're not Deckard?"
"No, my name's Charles."
"Oh well, sorry about that." Bee turned her head in embarrassment. "It's just that you look exactly like him."
"It's fine. So why are you looking for this 'Deckard'?"
"I wasn't actually looking for him. I'm just really confused about this place, since I kinda just got here."
"Well if you need some help, I'd be happy to be of assistance."
"Thanks, that would actually be really helpful." Bee pointed to Charles' bicycle. "So, where did you get a bike like that?"
"Well actually, I invented it." He answered proudly.
"You made this?" Bee crouched to get a closer look at the bike.
"Yeah, I'm an inventor. One day I just wanted to make a vehicle, so I just… threw a bunch of stuff together." Charles then rambled on about the complex mechanics of his custom bicycle, and its many capabilities on certain terrain, added features, and design inspirations.
"Neat." Was all Bee had to say.
"So, can I show you my workshop? I've got a lot more stuff here."
"Sounds good!" Suddenly Bee remembered something very crucial, something she couldn't believe she forgot about. "And by the way…"
"Yes?"
"I need your help with something… with finding my friend."
They walked through the door of the workshop, with looks of concern on their faces.
