Figment - Jace Cameron - Страница 22
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"I figured you might know, since..."
"Since?" I tilt my head.
"Since you are an expert in escaping a straitjacket," he blurts.
I try not to shrug. I find it a plausible train of thought. Where did I ever learn to escape a straitjacket? I have no idea.
"You know how many people in the world are capable of escaping a straitjacket as tight as the one we used on you?" he explains, then makes a V sign with his fore and middle fingers. "You and Houdini."
I laugh. "Look, I don't know how I do it. I just know I can. If Houdini did it too, rest assured, I am in no way related to him. Besides, how did you ever connect those events together?"
"Because of this." He hands me an old copy of the New Yorker listing the honorable guests attending the Houdini event. I scan it, and among the names find the following:
Carter Chrysalis Cocoon Pillar,
VIP guest,
personal friend of Mister Harry Houdini.
"Is that his real name?" I raise my eyebrows as high as I can. Dr. Truckle nods.
Although I am astonished, I don't know what to make of it. The documents could be forged. "Listen," I say. "I'm not friends with Professor Pillar, and I need rest. Can I go now?"
Sighing, he waves the path to the door to me, then asks, "Is he going to ask for you again tomorrow?"
"I believe so." We still have tons of work in the Muffin Man case. "Look!" I point at the surveillance camera behind him. "The Pillar is back."
Dr. Truckle turns around, looking like an angry turtle about to explode. He watches the Pillar smoking his hookah, leaning back on his sofa, and wiggling his feet. If you take the cell out of the picture, you'd think he was on vacation in Ibiza. When Dr. Truckle turns on the sound, there is a song playing in the background. It's "Crazy" by Seal.
I try my best not to laugh as I walk away, wondering if Waltraud would allow me a shower today.
Chapter 26
After dismissing Waltraud's insults and a few unnecessary chuckles by Ogier, I am back in my cell.
The first thing I do is check on my terribly insane flower. She seems to be enjoying the bigger crack in the wall and the sunlight seeping through. She isn't sleeping, nor talking to me. It's better that way. I already had my share of madness for a day. Still, I wonder why she means so much to me. It's not like she is a pet I keep home and come back to. Deep inside, I know she means more to me, but have no clue why.
I spend a few minutes staring at the six days I carved on the wall, wondering if I will live long enough to scratch the seventh diagonal stroke tomorrow. Next to the carvings, I glimpse the date, January 14th, still not knowing what it really means or why the number 14 keeps popping up everywhere.
Then there is the key, like the one Lewis gave me, drawn on the wall. I still have no idea who drew this key, but this time I notice the key is almost the same exact size like the real one. I take off the necklace and pick the key. Slowly, I near it to the drawing on the wall. I am right. It's the same size. I wonder if this means anything. Before I decide to give up on the crazy idea, the key on the wall glitters, so does the real one in my hand. I near it even closer, and then the coolest, and craziest, thing happens. The key in my hands dissolves into the one in the wall, still sticking out slightly so I can pick it up later. I realize I found a place to hide it, finally.
I wonder again: is it possible that my mind keeps coming up with such things?
I close my eyes and sigh, wanting to trust my mind. At least, I hid the key somewhere safe now. I don't have to hide it from the Pillar anymore, as Lewis had warned not to show it to anyone as well. This isn't just any key. It's is one of they keys to one of Wonderland doors, whatever that really means.
I open my eyes, and feel a bit relieved actually. Time to rest and prepare for a hectic day tomorrow.
Since Waltraud denied me a shower, I lie on the mattress on the floor, wishing for some sleep. They bought me a new one with the picture of a huge rabbit on it.
Waltraud knocks on my door again and tells me I will get my shower after I get my postponed dose of shock therapy. "No point in showering when you haven't sweated enough yet," she says, and tries to talk me into telling her where I have been. I tell her I am not allowed to say. She laughs and says they must be experimenting on me like a lab rat, because I don't even count as a human. It's interesting how insults don't count when you're in dire need of sleep.
Waltraud doesn't give up, though. She pulls the sliding window in the door and peeks in. "I just found a way to get you in the Mush Room."
"Huh?" I pull myself up and rub my eyes.
"I requested you for interrogation in the Mush Room tomorrow." She rubs her hands with childish enthusiasm.
"On what basis?"
"I requested I interrogate you about the patient who escaped last week, remember?"
"Yeah, I do. But I don't think my cell is close to the patient's."
"It's isn't. But I just remembered you acted strange that night."
"How strange?" What night was that, exactly?
"You asked me if I saw a White Queen enter your cell." She laughs. "I mentioned it in my report. Maybe you were distracting me so the patient could escape."
"I don't even know this patient."
"The patient never had a real name on his file," Waltraud says. "We call him the Muffin Man because he had an obsession with muffins." She shoots me with one last evil laugh and then shuts the window in the door, dimming my room into a mysterious darkness.
I take a few seconds to digest what I just heard.
Chapter 27
The Pillar's cell, VIP ward, Radcliffe Asylum, Oxford
In the morning, when I am sent to the Pillar's cell, he is in one of those happy Caucus Race moods again.
I stand before the cell and watch him through the black bars. He is dancing in place, holding his cane up to the ceiling.
He is not alone.
Several of his favorite Mushroomers dance next to him. They aren't dancing to music, though. They're tapping their feet and drooling to the silly words of a nursery rhyme.
One of them faces the rest of the Mushroomers in their pajamas and chants:
"Do you know the Muffin Man,
The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man,
Do you know the Muffin Man,
Who lives on Drury Lane?"
Then the Pillar claps to the beat, the same way children would sing the song in a kindergarten. Then one of the Mushroomers facing the first chanter responds:
"Oh yes! I know the Muffin Man,
The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man,
Yes, I know the Muffin Man,
Who lives on Drury Lane."
The Pillar claps his hands and then rewards the Mushroomer by allowing him to slide over to the first one on the other side. Then both of them face the rest and start all over again:
"Do you know the Muffin Man,
The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man,
Yes, I know the Muffin Man,
Who lives on Drury Lane."
"Alice!" The Pillar's voice is barely audible across the chants and claps of the Mushroomers. "Come out and play!"
"Why are you doing this?" I cock my head, knowing most of the Pillar's actions are usually significant, not just a fool man's calling.
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