“Yes, I would.” She said, trying not to let her eagerness show. Pat could tell now that she was simply nosy and not interested in him at all. She was just like all the others and nobody would miss her.
He emptied the dustpan into the trash, put up the broom, and gestured at Janice to follow him.
When Owen Sherwood had gifted this home to Pat and Justice, he had been most excited to show them the conservatory. Up until that point, Pat had only heard of conservatories when playing the board game Clue. However, seeing it in person for the first time was a totally different experience. As he led Janice inside, intense humidity and the smell of wet Earth and rose water filled the air. Several small trees, bushes, leafy plants, and flowers were sprawled around the perimeter of the space. In the center was a small pond with unkempt leafy grasses spilling up and out of the pool and a cobblestone path circling around. Above the ceiling was domed transparent glass that hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. When they were on the backside of the pond, Janice gasped audibly at what was before her. A 10-foot-tall white, metallic triangle sat amongst the greenery. It glowed orange within the frame and a faint hum could be heard coming from it.
“What is it?” A hint of fear was in her voice, but Pat ignored it.
“This is where it all began.” He spun on his heel to look at her and began walking backward towards the device as he continued to speak. “As I get closer…” The orange glow faded and you could see the faint outline of some kind of hallway, “…a new way appears.”
She allowed herself to be led like a sheep through a doorway that opened up into a narrow high-ceilinged foyer with crown molding. The benches on the left and right walls had cracks in the wood and were dusty from lack of use. In the corner was a tired coat rack holding unwanted suit jackets. The floor was dusty too, but within the dust were little footprints from small animals and bigger footprints from when Pat had been here before. Paintings hung on the walls that depicted dreams and desires. Janice gazed at them with confusion.
“Do you trust me?” Pat asked in a husky voice full of emotion.
“Yes.” She breathed.
He led her into the next room. It was much wider than the first with a dusty marble staircase branching off in two directions. The floor had a design on it that was hard to distinguish under all the turned-over furniture, dried leaves, and fabric. On both sides of the space were doorways and in the middle of the ceiling was a chandelier that mysteriously had several bulbs still lit. Along the sides of the staircase were paintings of women looking very solemn. They weren’t nearly as old as everything else and the women appeared to be wearing clothes from the 21st century. Pat approached the portrait closest to the wall. This woman had blue eyes, red hair down to her butt, a gray v-neck sweater, jeans, black boots, and a green pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Instead of looking afraid like the other women she looked slightly amused.
“That’s your wife!” Janice sounded surprised.
“It is.”
They continued between the staircases and through a set of double doors. A disheveled galley kitchen rested in this darkened room and sickly green light streamed in through a set of French doors. The look in Janice’s eyes appeared skeptical but Pat mustered up one last dose of charm to get her to her final destination. His cold hand slipped into hers and he rubbed his thumb on the inside of her wrist. As he drew her close to him, he smiled wide and she looked away bashfully. Wordlessly, he opened the doors and walked down to the stone porch. There were a few steps leading down to a path that wound its way up to a weeping willow tree draped over a prominent gray stone seat.
“So, why are we here?”
Pat knew he was starting to lose her. He had to act fast. “Trust me.”
He pulled her around and shoved her into the stone seat. When she protested and tried to stand, he gripped her wrists and forced them down onto the armrests. In the distance, there was a rumbling like a stampede of horses. Dark clouds rolled towards them at breakneck speed. It surrounded the spot where they were and Janice shrieked.
Before it could be stopped though, Janice was swallowed up in the unforgiving darkness. His legs automatically picked up and ran back from where he had come. When Pat became aware of what was happening, he found himself outside the humming portal. He looked around and didn’t see her anywhere. He ventured back into the portal again and when he reached the paintings, Justice was still there but now a new painting was hung on the wall beside it. There, looking terrified out of her mind, was Janice. Pat’s long fingers traced the outline of her face as he tried to drown out the new screams in his head.
CHAPTER THREE
HARMONY NEVER GOT coffee when she was at the office. Her reasons for preparing her beverage at home were because it was easier to disguise that she didn’t drink coffee and secondly, she wasn’t a fan of the morning chit-chat by the Keurig. It was harder to keep her secret when Glenda was going on and on about needing a caffeine fix and Romilda despairing over the lack of all-natural sweetener options.
Once Harmony had found a treatment that worked for her depression and anxiety, she was allowed to incorporate caffeine back into her routine. Despite this, she preferred to go without since she had been away from it for so long. She had found a mint tea she was growing fond of and her morning routine usually included her savoring the rhythm of steeping the tea leaves with a tea infuser and mixing a few squirts of honey in the brew. Once she had made the beverage perfect, she would pour it into a reusable Starbucks cup. This saved her from facing the shame of realizing how different she was compared to her coworkers. Her skin was the wrong color, her heritage was boring, her sexuality was all wrong, and her inclinations were merely tolerated by others. It felt unbearable to add one more thing to the list of differences.
As these thoughts buzzed in her mind while driving to work, she instinctively traced the spot on her right wrist where her surgeon had slipped a Thought Conductor. This little device had transformed her life.
As she pulled into the familiar parking space, the feeling of dread she used to have when going to work was no longer there. She turned off the car, slipped the lanyard with her keys and ID badge over her head full of tight brown curls, grasped her decoy cup, and slipped on a face mask that said “Mucho Gusto” on the front. She was trying to beat the crowd but, no matter how hard she tried, she always got to work during the rush. It felt like a Mardi Gras parade as the diverse crowd scanned their keycards upon entry. Not much talking went on but as soon as they were inside, the chatter began as everyone separated into their cliques.
The building was made entirely of one-way glass so there was no place that natural light didn’t shine in. The atrium connected to four different hallways for each of the departments and several large leafy plants graced the corners. It was a truly beautiful place but unfortunately, the employees were still separated by cubicles. These cubicles weren’t the old-fashioned tan color but instead a pearly white with black trim.
Harmony made her way down the third hallway from the left where the mortgage processing department was. She adjusted the cup in her hand so the Starbucks logo was visible. As she passed the break room she saw Glenda preparing her coffee for the day. Her beautiful curly black hair flowed down her back and to her waist. Her eyelashes were the same velvety black and stretched out like flower petals. Her skin was a flawless deep brown color that Harmony could still not figure out how she kept so perfect. As she did every day, her outfit was a work of art and included a matching face mask. Harmony greeted her with her Starbucks cup.
“What did you get, girl?”
“Caramel Macchiato!” She lied easily.
“Good choice, chica.”
The warmth of being accepted flowed over her. “Thanks. Catch you later!”
“You can’t get rid of me. I’ll see you later for sure!”
Harmony would be basking in the glow of that encounter all day. Glenda was one of the few people who could truly make her feel like she had friends at work.
One minute until her shift started, she sat down at her computer. As soon as the computer flared to life, the webcam scanned her features and she was clocked in. Since Hackney Corp had upgraded their systems, the clock-in and clock-out systems only activated when her face was staring at the screen and her butt in the chair. They were allowed two 10-minute breaks a day and a 30-minute lunch but the times for those never fluctuated no matter how early she got hungry or tired.
Thirty minutes into her shift, she suddenly received a calendar notification on the bottom right-hand corner of her screen. Her boss had called an impromptu meeting in 60 minutes. According to the description of the event, the topic was about more efficient practices for getting through mortgage paperwork faster and free programs to help with productivity. When a calendar event was sent to an employee, it automatically adjusted the clock-in feature on the computer so she was allowed to be away from her desk during the designated meeting time. This could be difficult to stick to sometimes because Lyric Elrod liked to talk which meant the meetings went too long.
Harmony had been sensing she was developing feelings for him over the last few weeks but she had been tamping those urges down. This meeting brought those feelings bubbling back to the surface of her mind. It wasn’t that her workplace didn’t allow workplace relationships, but socially it seemed completely taboo. She wasn’t the right kind of person for him and he was in such a strong social position compared to her.
When it was time for the meeting, the entire department made their way to the conference room and chatted freely with one another while Harmony simply observed. Normally, crowds made her anxious, but her treatment was working so well that she felt nothing. She seated herself in the very back of the room and hoped this meeting ended on time. If it didn’t, Lyric would need to manually go to each computer and input the override code so the late alarms wouldn’t go off. Being that close in proximity to him would not help keep her romantic feelings in check.
She quickly found out that proximity wasn’t the issue. Amongst the vibrant staff of 15 that encompassed the mortgage department, Lyric still stood out. He was beautiful. His skin was a smooth, warm brown and his eyes looked like the color of tiger’s eye gemstone. His hair and goatee were black and curly and kept very neat. Finally, his fashion sense was understated and yet so well put together. The gold, tan, and red polo shirt he wore looked like a tapestry tucked into deep blue trousers. To bring the ensemble together, his shoes were gold. Harmony held her breath as she watched him make his way to the front of the room.
“Perfect.” He clasped his perfectly manicured hands together and surveyed the room. “You all look great.” He then smiled a smile that could surely be seen from space.
Harmony felt her phone buzz and was almost certain it must be notifying her that her heart rate had gotten too high and that she should do something about it. Harmony wasn’t the only one who noticed Lyric. All the gay, lesbian, non-binary, pansexual, and asexual beings in this office were equal-opportunity rubberneckers when he walked by. He was like a cat with cool unrushed confidence and it was very attractive to Harmony. She identified as heterosexual, but even though Lyric seemed to reflect femininity at times, she didn’t care.
“Of course, we have plenty of resources available if anybody needs extra support through their mental health journey.” Lyric finished.
Since the Thought Conductors were becoming much more mainstream, Harmony’s office had started offering workshops on how to utilize them in the workplace and coping skills in case your chip was being repaired. Even though the chip had mostly managed her symptoms, she still went to the coping skills workshop. The occasional times when she had a panic attack, reminded her of how she never wanted to have one again.
“Do you have to go to these events if you don’t have a chip?” Asked Romilda right on queue. She always asked questions that Harmony deemed unnecessary and it was very annoying.
“Of course not.” Harmony quickly covered her mouth when she realized that she had spoken out of turn.
