appreciates some artistic…cinematography every now and again.”
The old man merely smiled back.
“I’m not following,” said Kerry.
“Well put it this way. You know the audition I told you about? Well I got the part. It wasn’t my face they were interested in.” He glanced down and up. He winked.
“What?” said Kerry, frowning. Her eyes widened. “Oh…”
Mario resumed the walk.
“Then how the hell can you afford this?” said Kerry, hurrying after him. “Only the elite can come here! How the hell-“
“Investments,” said Mario. “And let’s leave it at that.”
They walked on in silence for a few minutes.
Up ahead, Worth, showing no signs of tiring despite the dips and hills, looked back over his shoulder.
“Tell me more of your theory, sir. I have shown more people through this place than I care to remember. I’ve heard some pretty exceptional ideas on how all this works. I’d be grateful to hear the rest of yours.”
The wind hit them in an icy blast, throwing rain into their faces. Mario paused, wiping the drops from his eyes and cheeks.
“Weather’s getting worse,” he said. “Which actually challenges my theory.”
“Which is, sir?”
“It was Kerry’s turn before. Now it’s my turn. If we are drugged and hooked up to some kind of machine, which I believe we are, I think you’re switching between us, reading our minds to create all this. I mean, you created Kerry’s old room down to the finest detail with the television and the diary. I bet even the finished meal she cracked her mother with was authentic. If she’d had a sandwich that night in 1998, a sandwich would have been on that plate earlier.”
“Amazing, sir.”
“Isn’t it? And this place. I swear I can hear people playing golf. That’s how authentic you’re making this. But…”
“But?”
“I’m not creating this. It’s raining. I don’t want it to rain. I’ve already been wet tonight and I don’t like being like this again.” As if to demonstrate, he pulled his jacket tighter. “I don’t want it to rain, yet it’s getting worse.”
The path widened, almost like the mouth of a river flowing into the sea of dark brown sand. High dunes stood on either side with steep, grass covered sides.
“We’re here,” said Mario. “We’re at the pond.”
7
Through the gateway formed by the sand dunes, the three walked down the gentle slope toward the pond. Its surface ruffled. Reeds swayed and bobbed like members of a crowd jostling for a better view. Mario stopped at the edge of the water, and his designer shoes sank into the mud. He pulled them free with a wet smacking sound.
“Your shoes are ruined,” mentioned Kerry. She stayed away from the water, stilettos safe from the hungry mire.
“I can buy new ones,” said Mario and turned away to gaze across the large pond. Nothing lived on the waves that licked the shore. He’d never seen a duck or any kind of bird paddling on the border, nor had he seen any anglers trying their luck. The muddy water appeared thick as cold hot chocolate. If any fish were hardy enough to live in such an isolated hole, they never broke the surface.
“The only wildlife we ever saw here were other people walking other dogs,” he said, looking into the past.
“We, sir?”
Mario swallowed. “Laurie and me.”
The old man bowed slightly. “Ah yes. You mentioned the name earlier. I’d be interested to hear more, should you want to share. It seems you want to.”
Mario turned his back on the pond and faced his guide.
“Mr. Worth,” he said. “Surely you know all about her? Can’t you just dig a little deeper?” He tapped his right temple and grinned.
“I’m sorry, sir. I forgot. Let me return to my machine that I have you hooked up to. Am I right?”
Mario grinned. “You tell me.”
Worth cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. The wind had ruffled him as much as the water. “Despite my distinct lack of a mind reading machine,” he said,
The old man merely smiled back.
“I’m not following,” said Kerry.
“Well put it this way. You know the audition I told you about? Well I got the part. It wasn’t my face they were interested in.” He glanced down and up. He winked.
“What?” said Kerry, frowning. Her eyes widened. “Oh…”
Mario resumed the walk.
“Then how the hell can you afford this?” said Kerry, hurrying after him. “Only the elite can come here! How the hell-“
“Investments,” said Mario. “And let’s leave it at that.”
They walked on in silence for a few minutes.
Up ahead, Worth, showing no signs of tiring despite the dips and hills, looked back over his shoulder.
“Tell me more of your theory, sir. I have shown more people through this place than I care to remember. I’ve heard some pretty exceptional ideas on how all this works. I’d be grateful to hear the rest of yours.”
The wind hit them in an icy blast, throwing rain into their faces. Mario paused, wiping the drops from his eyes and cheeks.
“Weather’s getting worse,” he said. “Which actually challenges my theory.”
“Which is, sir?”
“It was Kerry’s turn before. Now it’s my turn. If we are drugged and hooked up to some kind of machine, which I believe we are, I think you’re switching between us, reading our minds to create all this. I mean, you created Kerry’s old room down to the finest detail with the television and the diary. I bet even the finished meal she cracked her mother with was authentic. If she’d had a sandwich that night in 1998, a sandwich would have been on that plate earlier.”
“Amazing, sir.”
“Isn’t it? And this place. I swear I can hear people playing golf. That’s how authentic you’re making this. But…”
“But?”
“I’m not creating this. It’s raining. I don’t want it to rain. I’ve already been wet tonight and I don’t like being like this again.” As if to demonstrate, he pulled his jacket tighter. “I don’t want it to rain, yet it’s getting worse.”
The path widened, almost like the mouth of a river flowing into the sea of dark brown sand. High dunes stood on either side with steep, grass covered sides.
“We’re here,” said Mario. “We’re at the pond.”
7
Through the gateway formed by the sand dunes, the three walked down the gentle slope toward the pond. Its surface ruffled. Reeds swayed and bobbed like members of a crowd jostling for a better view. Mario stopped at the edge of the water, and his designer shoes sank into the mud. He pulled them free with a wet smacking sound.
“Your shoes are ruined,” mentioned Kerry. She stayed away from the water, stilettos safe from the hungry mire.
“I can buy new ones,” said Mario and turned away to gaze across the large pond. Nothing lived on the waves that licked the shore. He’d never seen a duck or any kind of bird paddling on the border, nor had he seen any anglers trying their luck. The muddy water appeared thick as cold hot chocolate. If any fish were hardy enough to live in such an isolated hole, they never broke the surface.
“The only wildlife we ever saw here were other people walking other dogs,” he said, looking into the past.
“We, sir?”
Mario swallowed. “Laurie and me.”
The old man bowed slightly. “Ah yes. You mentioned the name earlier. I’d be interested to hear more, should you want to share. It seems you want to.”
Mario turned his back on the pond and faced his guide.
“Mr. Worth,” he said. “Surely you know all about her? Can’t you just dig a little deeper?” He tapped his right temple and grinned.
“I’m sorry, sir. I forgot. Let me return to my machine that I have you hooked up to. Am I right?”
Mario grinned. “You tell me.”
Worth cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. The wind had ruffled him as much as the water. “Despite my distinct lack of a mind reading machine,” he said,
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