Chapter 6
1102 Words
6
It is twenty minutes after eight. I am wearing a very pretty pale blue dress with little white flowers on it. Halli’s feet fit perfectly into an off-white pair of flats. Before dinner I took a shower and washed her hair and combed some sort of conditioning oil through it so it gleamed. Now she looks very scrubbed and fresh and presentable, except for one thing:
I am in very grave danger of throwing up.
Because we are sitting on a ship. Not a literal ship, because that would be ridiculous here in the middle of the Grand Mansion, but as far as my inner ear can tell, the dining room is swaying on an ocean with waves rising as high as the windows—sorry, portholes—and it’s daytime rather than night, and the seagulls are cawing, and swooping down and up, and adding to the whole sensation of motion.
And there are orcas and dolphins, of course. Splashing into perfect arcs alongside us, frolicking in the waves. The wooden sides of the ship creak in their weathered way, and Red keeps bolting up to bark at the gulls every minute and a half, and it’s all not very relaxing.
I have to close my eyes to eat. Otherwise I’m going to be sick.
I guess I should have understood what this mansion was capable of when I took my shower earlier. I stepped into the shower—an enclosure easily as big as my bedroom at home—and as soon as I shut the door behind me, the lights came on.
Suddenly I was in the midst of a secluded forest, surrounded by moss-covered rocks and waist-high ferns. In front of me was a beautiful waterfall, spilling water over the edge of a cliff and splashing down into a misty pool.
As I felt my way around, I realized the only real things were the rocks that made up the shower walls and floor, and the water pouring off a flat rock high above me. Everything else was a holographic illusion.
So I guess I should have been prepared for this dining room, but somehow I’m not. My eyes can’t seem to adjust. Every time I see the water tilting outside the pretend portholes, I instinctively lean sideways in my chair. I want to go back to my room. I want to sit in the dark.
We are a small party, here on our ship. Just Halli’s parents, Jake and Alexa, and a man who was introduced as Admiral Binghamton. I don’t know if that’s his real name or if he’s playing a part to go along with the show.
The food looks delicious. I just can’t eat a bite.
This dining table could easily fit fifty people. All six of us are crowded at one end. Which adds to the feeling of imbalance whenever the waves toss us backward in that direction.
“The rest of the board will arrive tomorrow,” Halli’s mother tells me. “Several of the members are anxious to meet you. I hope you’ll be accommodating.”
I nod. Even that makes me queasy.
“Good. Alexa,” she continues, “please see to the schedule and make sure that Miss Halli receives her agenda tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alexa answers. “Of course.”
“Is your room sufficient?” Halli’s mother asks me.
I nod. It feels better this time. Maybe because my eyes are closed.
“Designed by Quala Ingram,” she says. “Each room in the house has a different theme.”
Oh, really? Then I’d like to request the dining room that takes place on land, please.
“Will she have time to ride tomorrow?” Jake asks. I peek open one eye to see him. He’s looking at Halli’s father.
“I expect Miss Halli always does whatever she likes,” her father growls.
“She’ll be much too busy,” Halli’s mother says. “This is not a recreational visit. Tomorrow is a work day.”
I can’t take it anymore—all this talk swirling around me, people talking at me and to me and about me.
I rise to my feet. “I’m not feeling well,” I tell them. “I’m sorry, but . . . I have to go.”
Red looks happy to come with me. Those imaginary birds must be frustrating.
I lurch out of the room, like I’m trying to walk uphill on a Tilt-a-Whirl. I probably look like I’ve lost my mind.
I stand just outside the door, trying to get my bearings. For one thing, all the enormous glass walls of the Grand Hallway remind me that it’s night. I’ve just left bright daylight.
“Are you all right?” Jake asks behind me.
I nod weakly. “Can you help me outside?”
He takes hold of my arm and steadies me toward the door. As soon as it’s open, Red races outside. He seems to prefer reality, too.
I bend over at the waist and prop my hands against my knees. I take a few deep breaths.
“Do you ever get—”
“Sea sick?” Jake says. “Not anymore. But when the technology first came out.”
“That was awful,” I say.
Jake chuckles. “You should see the Arctic blizzard. They almost chose that one instead.”
I stand upright and start walking. Fresh air is my friend.
“Why?” I ask. “Who would want to eat with all that going on?”
“They thought you would,” Jake says.
“Me?” But then I think I get it. They’re trying to relate to Halli. Big adventurer-explorer. Of course she’d love to eat on the high seas. Or enjoy some pasta with her family in the middle of a blinding snowstorm. And since that was the scene outside the last time I saw Halli alive, I’m more than grateful they didn’t pick that one.
“Please,” I say to Jake, “if you could maybe slip them the hint . . .”
“No more?” Jake asks.
“No more.”
Red is in the water again. Even though it must be freezing. I can see his head bobbing in the dark.
And for some reason, maybe because I’m too tired, maybe because I’m just tired of pretending anymore for one day, I drop any pretense and just ask my question:
“What am I supposed to be doing here? What’s all this about the board and lawyers, and ‘We can finally settle this once and for all’?”
If that means I’ve blown my cover, so be it.
Jake doesn’t answer at first. And for a moment I panic and think “so be it” is a really stupid strategy.
But then he comes through for me.
“How much did your grandmother tell you?”
I decide to be honest. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Nothing?” He sounds surprised. And probably Ginny did tell Halli all sorts of things, but I wasn’t privy to those conversations. These ears may have heard them, but I wasn’t wearing them at the time.
I make up a lie on the spot, and hope it at least sounds plausible.
“We never really talked about my parents. Ginny didn’t seem to want to, and I didn’t want to press her. But now that she’s gone . . . there’s just a lot going on that I don’t understand.”
“So she never told you about the company,” Jake says. “Or her arrangement with your parents.”
“Nothing,” I say.
Jakes gives off a low whistle. “So how much do you want to know?”
“All of it. If you don’t mind.”
“Here.” He removes his dinner jacket and drapes it across my shoulders. “This is going to take a while.”
- Writer
