In fact I was surprised that Hulk noted down names of Alex, Elmer and a few other people that I mentioned in connection with my tale of kidnapping, also, he marked the date of the happening, the amount issued to me by the Corporation, all the addresses which I could recall and a few more meaningless, in my opinion, details.
I didn’t hide, nor cover anything up; I was just sipping the fragrant tea from the porcelain cup and answering his questions, thinking about how and where I could spend the first share of the points accumulated on the second bracelet.
As it turned out, I didn’t know much about life in Tally - was there any shopping areas and if there was any, how could I get there - under the condition that I will be allowed from the ranch for a “walk”; was there a bus stop somewhere around and other rubbish like that. Anyway, the screen of the second bracelet was glowing with a pleasant number forty-three, so I decided rightly, that it’s the right time to start building plans.
After hearing out my story, Hulk walked me to the door without saying a word, looking as if I was disturbing him from doing something important. I didn’t get offended; instead I pinched a piece of cake from the fridge in the kitchen which Tabitha left for me and returned to my room to carry on with the translation. Therefore, for me there was no difference between "before" and "after" Hulk acquired knowledge about my past. I felt pretty happy to secure a manageable relationship with the owner, no longer have the need to do the hard work in the yard and be able to pamper myself with something sweet because of Tabitha’s kindness. All the rest of it wasn’t really important anymore.
One evening, when I brought the new pages to Hulk as usual, I dared to ask where and how I can spend the earned points.
“You must tell me first what you want to buy.” the ruthless tyrant grinned.
I hesitated. Actually, it would be good to get some new underwear and a couple of new shirts, but I felt a bit shy to talk about it out loud. I just glanced piteously at his grin when I realised that all my thoughts were written in capital letters, right there on my face.
“There are few clothing shops in Tally as well as some places where you can buy household items, furnishings, bath accessories and all that.”
Seeing how I started salivating and my eyes immediately lit up with excitement he openly laughed out loud for the first time. His laughter illuminated the cosy room and filled it with warmth.
“Women...”, he said “I'll tell you when and where you can go shopping. Now scram, I have to work.”
I shot out of his office like a bullet, still drooling like a homeless dog that saw a piece of smoked ham lying nowhere near its own bowl. Trying to break away from the appealing thoughts about the future purchases, I spent almost a quarter of an hour standing under a cool shower and even then my work flow was interrupted by the thoughts about all those marvellous things I’d get hold of soon. Of course, ultimately, it would all come down to the range available in stores, but it would’ve been an absolute blasphemy to crush the dream, and therefore by bedtime there were only three new lines of text translated.
My “happy” day came on Monday, when right after the breakfast one of the maids knocked on my door and said that I was summoned by Hulk to appear before him. I quickly did my shaggy hair in a ponytail, flew out into the hallway and rushed up the stairs.
“So, we shall assume that today is your day off.” said Hulk, “now you can get out of the ranch. There is a bus stop on the road behind the electric fence, a hundred meters away. If you hurry, you should catch the bus that goes to the city in about thirty minutes.”
He looked at his watch, and then at my shining like polished copper basin face.
“It would not be advisable for you not to come back too late, I hope you understand that. I wouldn’t like to start a search and worry about you.”
I quickly nodded. Hulk seemed to be satisfied with such an uncomplicated answer.
“That’s it. You are free to go.”
Standing under the blazing sun on a deserted road by the tiny rusty shack, generously called a “but stop”, I was enjoying my life to the full. And not even the worn out sweaty blue shirt, saggy jeans, dusty falling to pieces shoes or poking out hair could not ruin my cheery mood. My first day off! And shopping! I couldn’t believe my own luck. A well-deserved whole day of rest when I didn’t have to do nothing but lazily wander the streets, eating an ice cream and carry the bags full of new clothes - what on earth could be better? I’d already decided that the ice cream will be the highlight of my agenda today (after an hour I still couldn’t remember the last time I pampered myself like this). Perhaps, I could even find a café and enjoy a cup of coffee with a croissant. Of course, Tally is not Clendon City, but I just waved my hand carelessly - any old stale piece of bread would do it for me. This day gave me a feeling of a life as a normal person, and took my mind off the endless cycle of slavery and pain, which I could never get used to. Mumbling the words of gratefulness to the heaven, Hulk or both of them together, I was impatiently twiddling the plastic bag, which I brought with me in order not to spend any extra points on trifles. Finally, a slowly creeping and creaking yellow bus appeared in the distance.
The adventure begins!
I guess I could hardly find the words to describe all those delightful emotions overwhelming me on that day. I was almost lovingly admiring the cracked buildings, passing by people, faded signs, shrubs, benches, dishevelled windows and so on. Even the puzzles on bus tickets I was now solving with a smile on my face. People were looking at me without anger, rather than envy, not understanding why any person in Tally would be in such a good mood. A few days ago, I wouldn’t have understood it either, except for today. Today was my day.
Who would have thought that those miserable points which I could now spend on some quite ordinary household items or dry bread could bring me so much gratitude? Or that dilapidated exterior of Tally city centre could seem almost like an exotic holiday in a crowded metropolis on another continent. Perhaps the expression that “everything is relative in this world” happened to be extremely true to life. At least I experience it first-hand. Live and learn… Live and learn…
After browsing a few different stores (to my surprise, the shopping area in Tally appeared to be fairly big) my plastic bag contained a whole bunch of different things: a new shower sponge, a deliciously scented shower gel, soap bar, shampoo, hairbrush, hair bands, face cream, two deodorants, q few shirts, socks and one thing I didn’t even attempt to dream of - a new pair of jeans! I even bought a small book so I could truly feel like a human being, sitting on the porch at the sunset, relaxing with a little novel in my hands. It wasn’t that much fun to keep pounding the Tueric’s “Agriculture and farming” all the time.
I didn’t forget about the pharmacy either. After a chat with the pharmacist, a rather nice guy in a white coat, I bought several sachets of strong cough medicine, some bandages, plasters, antiseptic and even a box for storing the medications, which I intended to pass to the quarry workers.
Later on I got even luckier - in a garden centre (was it really that common here to have a vegetable patch in Tally under this merciless sun? Perhaps, only the owners could afford such a luxury on the rooftops of their penthouses). Anyway, in this store I pretty much surprised the shop assistance by buying an assortment of gloves made of some durable material, which, in my opinion, could withstand a certain number of days for workers working with the picks. Now I was as happy as a tomcat in May dating a dozen pretty chicks at the same time. I added my new “treasure” to my already heavily overloaded bag whilst humming some melody to myself; I went to look for a cafe.
And only in the evening, a sniffy bus brought me back to the same bus stop on the outskirts of the city, where I - well-fed and content, almost hiccupping from the amount of ice cream in my stomach - slowly walked to my shelter.
After I unpacked my simple but valuable purchases, I felt like a millionaire. Of course, to feel completely happy I still needed a few more items such as a new pair of shoes but for now this was enough. There were still a lot more pages to translate, which meant that I could hope for a repetition of today’s experience again. My feet will be alright. But I was thrilled from what I’d already got for just fifty points! Thinking logically, it was about right since fifty points was one twentieth of the total amount required to be released from Tally, and nobody would scatter such an amount for nothing, whereas my situation was just perfect for doing that. Meanwhile my first bracelet was slowly collecting the priceless “freedom” points.
Fortunately for me, Hulk did not come to inspect what kind of junk I’d got from the shops and as a true sybarite I asked Tabitha for my favourite tea (she kept it aside for special occasions) and then went out on the porch to enjoy my new book.
As soon as following morning came, I was on my way leaping to the quarry. As it was someone else’s responsibility now to deliver the food and I wasn’t too concerned about that since Tabitha promised to personally check that workers won’t starve any longer, I was running there with only a box with meds in my hands, not having to lug a heavy cart.
The men noticed me approaching them from afar and began to gradually gather by the barracks; their dusty, as always gloomy faces were now expressing some curiosity and even a resemblance of cordiality - the workers somehow found out that the increased amount of food they were getting was my doing. It felt good to know they were grateful, though I didn’t carry out my "great" deeds because I wanted to massage my ego and I would rather stay in a shadow than hear their muffled, interrupted by a cough, "thank you".
Nevertheless, those were the words I heard the most over the next two hours, during which I was giving out gloves, cleaning and covering their palms with medicine; putting bandages on their wounded hands. Then, I read out the instructions for the cough remedy and handed them out to the men, explaining how and when they should take it. They were looking at me in a more and more friendlier way, and after I got out the last gift - dust protective masks, they started to look like almost sane people who were able to enjoy their life. Masks were immediately tried on and the mumbling perked up.
At the end, I was approached by one of the workers - his face was speckled with thin lines, battered by the wind, hard life and illnesses, but he still had the spark of the man with an indomitable spirit. In one hand he held the mask and pills he’d just got and his other hand was clenched into a fist.
“Here.” he said he opened up his palm, “Take it. Let it be yours - for good luck.”
He handed me a small shiny blue stone similar to an uncut sapphire but it still looked amazing and was shimmering in the shades of ultramarine. Before I could thank him for his generosity I was surrounded by other men and almost each one of them brought me a stone - and not just the blue ones, but also red, pink, clear and even green.
“No, no thank you! Why would you give them to me? Please keep them for yourselves!” I began refusing, feeling desperately embarrassed but the gaze of the old man who gave me his first gem made me stop.
“Take them, girl. They are no good to us anyway but you may find them useful one day. We don’t say anything to the owner about the rich lode we found here and you don’t tell him please, it’s not worth it. Take the rocks - one day you’ll be free…”
“One day you’ll be free as well!” I protested.
“Maybe, but that’s not the point.” he interrupted me and looked at the dust masks, “you’ve just added years to our lives and it’s worth more than any diamonds and we want to thank you. Don’t refuse.”
I helplessly looked at the pile of coloured gems laying on my palm and then at all the people around me - they were still holding their small gifts in their hands. Another young guy from the barrack hurried up towards me with a black sock in his hand. He gave it to me and the all gems were placed in there.
“Thank you. Yes, thank you! For the masks and gloves and for the pills...” I heard the men’s voices.
“Please, don’t thank me...” I kept saying to them over and over again, feeling completely confused, trying to get break away from the crowd and holding back the tears, “Please, don’t forget to take the pills on time; I’ll bring you some more medication soon.”
As I walked up the hill I could still see them waving “goodbye” to me.
And then there was more translating, evenings on the porch, brief meetings with Hulk and other people in the house, and more shopping trips. Little by little I got plenty of useful things for the ranch workers: simple but comfortable hats for people working in the fields, gloves for the berry pickers, new kitchen towels and aprons for Tabitha and many more necessary items that I handed out here and there. I didn’t even try to remember or count what’s already been done but simply wrote down my new ideas at the back of the notebook, so I could implement the created plan during my next trip to the city.
Hulk - many thanks to him - did not interfere with my charity, although I was sure he knew about it. He usually pretended to be busy or he actually was busy. Nowadays I thought about him more often than ever before, but I wasn’t in a hurry to search my soul for the explanation of my own behaviour - perhaps the reason for it was the gossiping that suddenly popped up a couple of weeks after I’d started doing the translation for him.
Of course, my new clothes and the second bracelet on my wrist hadn’t gone unnoticed. The evil tongues of local whisperers immediately began speculating about my newly found relationship with the ranch owner and my fresh, after an aromatic shower and a comb look, only reassured them in the accuracy of their assumptions. People didn’t openly whisper behind my back and often it was done even without a sense of anger but in a more discreet and quiet way, in order not to provoke Hulk’s wrath. I got the impression that a lot of the people felt some sort of respect towards me as I’d provided them with some useful things, which had also played a major role in their attitude and a reduction of envy and aggression. In addition to this, none of them could boast of any precise knowledge about me spending at least one night in the owner’s chambers or not. However, it has long been known that people don’t need any particularly accurate information to start spreading rumours.
Sometimes I felt surprised thinking about their assumption that I was Hulk’s lover; sometimes I felt entertained, sometimes indifferent - it all depended on the mood I was in. People always think what they want. After all, no one knows what I would have thought, seeing some girl going on his private territory and transforming not by leaps and bounds, becoming fresh, good-looking and doing almost whatever and whenever she wanted to. Of course, what other conclusion would I make about her in their shoes?
Even Tabitha was laughing and thoughtfully noting from time to time that people will always make up stories but not all of them have the brains to know what to believe, even if they like to think so. I would agree with her but sinful thoughts about Hulk kept on entering my mind. Not that I was seriously contemplating - "what would Hulk be like if we were to ...", because I still couldn’t quite work out his personality or his actions, and nevertheless, I often caught myself thinking about the gossips while sitting on the porch, sipping my tea before the bedtime, or admiring the glistening gems given to me in light of the sunset.
Hulk in my opinion was a dark horse - a man with many contradictions and mysteries. Some people saw him as a ruthless tyrant without an ounce of compassion; others were just scared of him for no apparent reason, and I could sympathise with them, because I saw Hulk stressed, although I’d never seen him being angry.
Anyway, Hulk always kept himself composed and only an invisible aura around him would change following his mood. I was not sure if anyone else could feel this completely invisible presence. But never, as far as I could remember, Hulk shouted or yelled and spluttered but acted quite the opposite - his restraint was too powerful even in critical moments. Sometimes I had the illogical desire to crawl deeper under his protective shell and see what he was really like? But I wasn’t particularly pushy at my attempts, not because it didn’t make any sense, but simply because the wall around him was too solid to break.
Yet, some moments were scratching my mind, like stones with sharp edges. Hulk was shrewd, calm, balanced, intelligent, and in general had all the qualities that a normal person and businessman should have. Yes, normal. But he hadn’t got the qualities of a tyrant who owns the ranch in a desert. And yet, Hulk stubbornly kept the reputation of one of the toughest people in Tally - the "glory" of his merciless attitude towards the humans managed to circle around the city from top to bottom and there was some truth in it – now and again the local guards would ruin someone's life, not thinking about the consequences because they were never punished for it. But Hulk himself was never a direct part of their actions, although he had the ability to influence any situation both in good and bad ways - he could, but he never did, and that was strange.
Several times I tried to instigate a conversation with Tabitha about Hulk’s personality, which she’d always cleverly avoid, keeping any comments to herself. This was making me think even more about the whole situation. For a while now I’ve been feeling like something important was being left unsaid, as if an invisible hand was holding the curtains tightly drawn, and as much as I wanted that – I still couldn’t get any closer to solving this puzzle so I gave up trying to understand, though I continued to listen and observe everything around me.
Jenny tossed on the dirty sheets draped over a hard mattress on a narrow bed, and finally woke up. The small room was flooded with almost impenetrable greyish-pink light - the sun was about to rise. Greg, who drank too much yesterday was snoring intermittently next to her; it seemed that every inch of the wretched room soaked up his bad breath.
Jenny frowned. Her mood, which was already pretty low, was on its way to plunging even deeper, to a “shitty” mark, where it was at most of the time now and after the latest events it got even worse. She scratched her head that’s not been washed for over a week, trying to run her fingers through the sticky and greasy hair. Her pale blue eyes stared at the crumpled curtain covering the grubby window, although her mind was completely focused on different matter - waves of anger, one after another, like a poisonous ocean was washing over her mind.
Shereen.
The mere thought of her made Jenny clench her teeth so hard that the jaw began to ache miserably. What a con artist, what a suck-up, what an inventive bitch! Her imagination immediately filled with images - there she goes across the yard, all glowing, fresh and smelling of perfume, wearing a new T-shirt, clean jeans. Here she is handing out the hats to the corn workers to protect their heads; here she is giving out some gloves to the women in the barracks so that the bushes don’t scratch their hands... Fucking Mother Theresa she is! Right from the start she managed to get a room in the house and she didn’t waste her time. First she got into a habit of drinking tea with Hulk, and then she receives a second bracelet, gets spruced up. Just incredible!
Thinking about it, Jenny radiated poorly suppressed anger again and again. And what about her? No matter how hard she tried to get a better position on the ranch, she’d only managed to reach to a role of this dork’s lover. She glanced with hatred at sleeping Greg.
Jenny’s been sleeping with the senior warden for a month now and there was no use from it whatsoever. But it’s alright. One day she’ll celebrate the victory, and she’ll celebrate in style, with a party, champagne, lobsters and caviar. As soon as a duplicate is ready, Jenny will get everything she ever dreamt of. And it’s OK that for the time being she has to be patient, listen to the dirty words from this old drillmaster, greet her teeth, feeling the pain between her legs and pretend to be as loving as she possibly can. That’s OK. This gal has seen much worse things than this and knew how to handle it, since there was enough confidence that it was all worth it.
Jenny hastily climbed out of bed and began gathering up her clothes scattered around on the floor, cringing from the mess - empty beer cans, cigarette butts and the smell that permeated the room with alcohol vapours. What a disgusting apartment!
After she put a white T-shirt, spattered with numerous stains and torn by the sharp bush thorns, and a skirt over her naked body, Jenny ruthlessly shoved Greg in his side. He just smacked his dry cracked lips, moved his tongue, went quiet for a while and then continued snoring again.
“Wake up!” Jenny hissed and furiously shook his shoulder, “Close the door behind me, I have to go to the barracks - the others will start getting up soon!”
Greg produced a particularly loud snoring noise, which stopped half way through, as if the man choked on a piece of steak, and after a short pause, reluctantly opened his eyes.
“What?” he whizzed, not understanding where he was, and why he was being shaken.
“Wake up! And close the door!”
“A-a-ah...”
Standing by the door, Jenny threw a brief glance at Greg’s bare chest wrapped by scars, which was hanging over her so often lately, shuddered with repulsion and said:
“When will it be ready?”
“What?” Greg sleepily shook his head and frowned.
“The key!”
“Tomorrow night.”
For the first time this morning, Jenny allowed herself to relax. Even bad breath of the man standing in front of her wasn’t as irritating as much now.
“Good.” she smiled sweetly and patted the hairless chest of her lover, “You were wonderful as always, my dear!”
Greg grinned and muttered proudly "Oh, yeah! ....” slapped Jenny’s bottom and slammed the door behind her.
“I’d cut your bloody dick...” she hissed, trying to get away from the men's barracks as quickly as possible. Her anger quickly gave way to a feeling of euphoria that now quickly and pleasantly filled her whole body. The key! The key from Shereen’s room will soon be in Jenny’s hands and that was the only important thing, all the rest is rubbish.
Quietly and quickly, like a limping, but happy ghost, Jenny disappeared into the fog.
A few days passed by unassumingly with no incidents, but one of the following evenings imprinted in my memory deeply and probably for good. This only happens when you are not expecting any surprises from life but it just pours like a bucket of ice cold water over your head, turns everything upside down and you can never forget about it, no matter how hard you try. It’s not possible to delete such moments from ones memory - there is no magic switch that can be put in an "I don’t remember" position, although many would have paid a lot of money for it.
The day started off pretty ordinarily, as well as the noon and nothing spelled any changes - the same heat outside, same quiet voices in the depth of house, same rough pages of the ancient books before my eyes. But at six o'clock I was distracted from my daily grind by a delicate knock on the door - it was one of the maids who I often saw cleaning the floors.
“Mr Conrad wants you to come to his office.” she said as I opened the door.
“Should I bring the translated pages with me?”
She uncertainly ruffled the dusting cloth in the hands.
“I don’t know. I’ve not been told anything else.”
I thanked the girl and shut the door. That was weird. I didn’t usually appear in Hulk's office before eight or nine - that was the only time when he could read the new pages and treat me with some tea. I shrugged, picked up my notebook, turned off the lamp and went to the hallway to find out why our usual schedule had been changed.
“Come in.” said Hulk as soon as he saw me, “Sit down.”
Something in his face and his voice seemed worrying to me. I stared at him for a while and then decided that I was wrong because I didn’t notice any obvious signs of anxiety. Anything can happen. I already had the book opened up, ready to explain the new translation and my notes that I made on the page margins, when he stopped me and repeated:
“Sit down. You don’t need your notebook for now.”
I sat in a chair that I occupied every night, alarmingly looking at Hulk.
Something had subtly changed, the atmosphere in the room was tense, my anxiety increased. The premonition of something bad grew stronger.
“Why don’t I need the notebook for now?” I asked unusually quietly, as if my raised voice could crack and shatter the worlds in pieces like a poorly glued together glass. Hulk didn’t say a word, staring through the window facing the front yard. He stood with his back turned to me, and this silence in the room began to feel uncomfortable.
“Have