Tales from the Underground 2: The Town
Chapter 9
Sunlight streaming through my window wakes me up. As I sit up in bed, I smell coffee and something cooking. I quickly dress hoping that Otto has made his famous French toast. Walking into the kitchen, I find Otto pouring himself another cup of coffee. Otto escaped the city about thirty years ago. That is how he always phrases it; escaped. Otto is in his sixties now and, although his hair has gone completely white and wrinkles cover his face, he somehow manages to appear youthful. I think his amazing energy creates the illusion of youth.
Turning from the coffee pot, his pale blue eyes light up when he sees me. “Ah, Rachael, and how was your day off?”
“It was good,” I reply pulling a mug out of the cupboard and pouring myself some coffee. “How was your day?”
“Good, good, shall I make you some French toast?” His wrinkled face forms a beautiful warm smile.
“Do you even need to ask?” I comment and sit down at the table. Otto’s computer page sits open. A quick glance reveals the local paper, which has an icon flashing to indicate there are two pages today. “Anything interesting happen yesterday?”
“Well an airship is in town,” Otto’s voice sounds a little sly so I know what is coming next. “Your friend Jerome is on it.”
“I’ll make sure to stop by and say hi.” I respond as non-committally as possible. Jerome is a friend but Otto, for some odd reason, believes we should be more than that.
“Perhaps, we should invite him for dinner?” Otto sneaks a glance at me.
“Sure,” I answer in a careless tone. “Anything else happen?”
“Oh, it’s just the usual but Benjamin wrote a wonderful article on the rise of the cities. Take a look.” Otto indicates I should read his computer.
“Really, what does he say?” I inquire, pulling the page toward me to have a look.
“He argues that only environmentalists stayed on the surface originally.”
“Oh,” I reply, losing interest and turning to see Otto dip cranberry and pistachio bread into the egg mixture. As I watch him place the slices in the frying pan, I ask, “What about people who were afraid to live underground?”
“He thinks they got over their fears because they wanted all the conveniences of the city.” Otto faces me and inquires, “You don’t agree.”
I shrug and check out the fruit sitting on the table. “It’s not that I disagree it’s just that I don’t think we can know the reasons why various people chose the way they did so long ago. I’m not sure we can lump them into one simple little category.”
Otto laughs, “Ah, spoken like a true child of the surface.”
“I suppose but back then we were all children of the surface so maybe we shouldn’t assume conformity where it might not have existed.”
Otto’s smile disappears as I say those words. He points his spatula at me, “That is an excellent point. Benjamin probably shares the same assumptions I do. Maybe they are even stronger because he has only been on the surface for a few years. He hasn’t learned how wonderfully varied and complicated it is.”
Otto pulls out a plate and then flips the French toast onto the dish. He pours himself another coffee before bringing both plate and cup to the table. Carefully setting the dish in front of me, he asks, “What did you do with your day?"
“I practiced my abilities.” I reply, fudging the truth while reaching for a banana.
“That’s wonderful. Did you learn anything new?” Otto leans forward as he asks the question.
“Well, not really but I think I’ve found the edge of my hearing ability.” I slice the banana all over the French toast.
“Oh,” his brief comment sounds a little skeptical. “And what is the edge?”
“Well, I can manage to hear out to a little over a kilometre.” I pour maple syrup over the bananas and toast.
“I think you can do much better.” Otto reproves me and takes a sip of his coffee.
I sigh, “Otto, it’s a physical ability not some mystical physic thing.” I start to eat the French toast.
Otto quietly sips his coffee, letting me eat for a couple of minutes before he sets his cup down and asks. “If it’s a physical ability how does it work?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure but I think my eardrums are hyperbolic.”
“Hyperbolic?” Otto seems a little confused. He loves books but he has never been interested in science.
“Yeah, see hyperbolic dishes can collect sound from a distance point.”
“How can that work?” He sounds a little annoyed by his lack of understanding.
“Sound is a wave and waves can be focused. In the same way a telescope can refocus light, making it brighter a hyperbolic dish can refocus sound. Of course, one of the side effects is that I cannot hear other sounds around me while I am focused on a distance point. I think, normally my ears are just the same as anyone else’s. But, when I focus on a distance point they change shape into a hyperbolic dish and I can only hear sounds in the focal point.”
“I think I understand.” Otto responds, dubiously.
“I could build a dish and demonstrate it to you.”
“Really? What would you need?” He sounds surprised and rather tickled by the idea of experiencing a mechanical version of my hearing ability.
“Ah, nothing special just some sort of hard material that is easy to shape into a hyperbolic dish. Then you have to stand at one focal point and you will be able to hear sounds at the other focal point.” As I say that, it makes me realise something about the structure of my ear. I finish my breakfast while I ponder the idea.
“That would be delightful. More coffee?”
I just nod with a smile because my mouth is full. Otto takes my cup and his back to the counter to pour more coffee. As he sits back down, he places my cup in front of my plate.
“Now that I think about it I don’t think a doctor would be able to see the difference in my ears.” I say, picking up my second cup of coffee and taking a sip.
“Surely the doctor could see the different shape to your eardrum.”
“No, I think the hyperbolic dish must be behind the eardrum because the focal points are both in front of the dish. Maybe it’s simply the back of my ear is… shapeable.”
“Shapeable.” Otto laughs, “I don’t think that’s actually a word.”
I smile, “No, I guess not. Maybe I should say malleable or flexible. At any rate, it is changeable by me thinking about it."
“Like a muscle,” Otto muses.
“Yes, exactly like a muscle.” I finish my coffee and pick up the dishes. “I should get to work.” I comment while I load the plate and cup into the dishwasher.
“Yes, you were cleaning the science section, correct?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I remember where I left off.” I walk over to Otto and place my hands on his shoulders. “Thanks for breakfast.” I say and give him a quick kiss on the check before walking out the door.
Turning from the coffee pot, his pale blue eyes light up when he sees me. “Ah, Rachael, and how was your day off?”
“It was good,” I reply pulling a mug out of the cupboard and pouring myself some coffee. “How was your day?”
“Good, good, shall I make you some French toast?” His wrinkled face forms a beautiful warm smile.
“Do you even need to ask?” I comment and sit down at the table. Otto’s computer page sits open. A quick glance reveals the local paper, which has an icon flashing to indicate there are two pages today. “Anything interesting happen yesterday?”
“Well an airship is in town,” Otto’s voice sounds a little sly so I know what is coming next. “Your friend Jerome is on it.”
“I’ll make sure to stop by and say hi.” I respond as non-committally as possible. Jerome is a friend but Otto, for some odd reason, believes we should be more than that.
“Perhaps, we should invite him for dinner?” Otto sneaks a glance at me.
“Sure,” I answer in a careless tone. “Anything else happen?”
“Oh, it’s just the usual but Benjamin wrote a wonderful article on the rise of the cities. Take a look.” Otto indicates I should read his computer.
“Really, what does he say?” I inquire, pulling the page toward me to have a look.
“He argues that only environmentalists stayed on the surface originally.”
“Oh,” I reply, losing interest and turning to see Otto dip cranberry and pistachio bread into the egg mixture. As I watch him place the slices in the frying pan, I ask, “What about people who were afraid to live underground?”
“He thinks they got over their fears because they wanted all the conveniences of the city.” Otto faces me and inquires, “You don’t agree.”
I shrug and check out the fruit sitting on the table. “It’s not that I disagree it’s just that I don’t think we can know the reasons why various people chose the way they did so long ago. I’m not sure we can lump them into one simple little category.”
Otto laughs, “Ah, spoken like a true child of the surface.”
“I suppose but back then we were all children of the surface so maybe we shouldn’t assume conformity where it might not have existed.”
Otto’s smile disappears as I say those words. He points his spatula at me, “That is an excellent point. Benjamin probably shares the same assumptions I do. Maybe they are even stronger because he has only been on the surface for a few years. He hasn’t learned how wonderfully varied and complicated it is.”
Otto pulls out a plate and then flips the French toast onto the dish. He pours himself another coffee before bringing both plate and cup to the table. Carefully setting the dish in front of me, he asks, “What did you do with your day?"
“I practiced my abilities.” I reply, fudging the truth while reaching for a banana.
“That’s wonderful. Did you learn anything new?” Otto leans forward as he asks the question.
“Well, not really but I think I’ve found the edge of my hearing ability.” I slice the banana all over the French toast.
“Oh,” his brief comment sounds a little skeptical. “And what is the edge?”
“Well, I can manage to hear out to a little over a kilometre.” I pour maple syrup over the bananas and toast.
“I think you can do much better.” Otto reproves me and takes a sip of his coffee.
I sigh, “Otto, it’s a physical ability not some mystical physic thing.” I start to eat the French toast.
Otto quietly sips his coffee, letting me eat for a couple of minutes before he sets his cup down and asks. “If it’s a physical ability how does it work?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure but I think my eardrums are hyperbolic.”
“Hyperbolic?” Otto seems a little confused. He loves books but he has never been interested in science.
“Yeah, see hyperbolic dishes can collect sound from a distance point.”
“How can that work?” He sounds a little annoyed by his lack of understanding.
“Sound is a wave and waves can be focused. In the same way a telescope can refocus light, making it brighter a hyperbolic dish can refocus sound. Of course, one of the side effects is that I cannot hear other sounds around me while I am focused on a distance point. I think, normally my ears are just the same as anyone else’s. But, when I focus on a distance point they change shape into a hyperbolic dish and I can only hear sounds in the focal point.”
“I think I understand.” Otto responds, dubiously.
“I could build a dish and demonstrate it to you.”
“Really? What would you need?” He sounds surprised and rather tickled by the idea of experiencing a mechanical version of my hearing ability.
“Ah, nothing special just some sort of hard material that is easy to shape into a hyperbolic dish. Then you have to stand at one focal point and you will be able to hear sounds at the other focal point.” As I say that, it makes me realise something about the structure of my ear. I finish my breakfast while I ponder the idea.
“That would be delightful. More coffee?”
I just nod with a smile because my mouth is full. Otto takes my cup and his back to the counter to pour more coffee. As he sits back down, he places my cup in front of my plate.
“Now that I think about it I don’t think a doctor would be able to see the difference in my ears.” I say, picking up my second cup of coffee and taking a sip.
“Surely the doctor could see the different shape to your eardrum.”
“No, I think the hyperbolic dish must be behind the eardrum because the focal points are both in front of the dish. Maybe it’s simply the back of my ear is… shapeable.”
“Shapeable.” Otto laughs, “I don’t think that’s actually a word.”
I smile, “No, I guess not. Maybe I should say malleable or flexible. At any rate, it is changeable by me thinking about it."
“Like a muscle,” Otto muses.
“Yes, exactly like a muscle.” I finish my coffee and pick up the dishes. “I should get to work.” I comment while I load the plate and cup into the dishwasher.
“Yes, you were cleaning the science section, correct?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I remember where I left off.” I walk over to Otto and place my hands on his shoulders. “Thanks for breakfast.” I say and give him a quick kiss on the check before walking out the door.
Chapter 10
Entering the library, I discover Andrei at the sitting at the front desk reading a book. I call out good morning and head into the bathroom to get a bucket and rag. I don’t fill the bucket because I don’t want to make a mess if it gets knocked over. With a couple of centimetres of water in the bottom, I carry the bucket out to the science section where I left off my cleaning. With only five of us working at the library, we each need to spend a lot of time cleaning. After I remove the books from one shelf, I wash it down and then wait for it to dry. Once it is dry, I start wiping each book before placing if back on the shelf. Everything must be dry and clean to keep away bugs.
After a few hours, Otto appears to tell me someone is out front looking for me.
“Who?” I ask but Otto just gets a knowing look on his face as he walks away. His expression makes me think Jerome has stopped by for lunch so I finish cleaning and replacing the books at my feet before picking up the bucket and carrying it back to the front desk.
“Otto said someone is looking for me.” I say to Andrei as I peer around, looking for the person, suddenly convinced that it’s not Jerome.
“Yeah, some guy I’ve never seen before. He is outside. Didn’t want to come in.” Andrei shrugs as he checks off a pile of returned books.
My heart pounds as I walk toward the door. I tell myself that Jonathon would not have come so soon but as I approach the main entrance, I see him standing outside in the sunlight. I slow my pace to observe him for a moment. Out in the sunlight his lack of plastic surgery shows more strongly, the lines of his face appear natural, except for the nose. I wonder if he was born with a big nose, something so horrible that he felt he had to have it fixed. He stands at the edge of the top step, giving me a clear view of his height. He must be a little over six feet, strange that I didn’t notice it last night. As I watch him, he raises a hand to shade his eyes. Sunlight must be something new for him.
I push the door open to greet him, “Hello, Jonathon.”
He whirls around to face me. After a moment, he blurts out the word, “Hi.” Then his eyes drop to stare at my feet with an uncomfortable look on his face. There’s an edge to the way he moves that makes me think he has come here determined to do something.
“I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” I comment, putting my hands in my pockets, trying to appear non-threatening.
“Why not? You knew I had to come.” His voice is a touch hostile and I wonder if he’s afraid being outside for the first time. It could explain his aggressive attitude. Otto told me how frightening he found it and that he felt aggressive to everyone he met. Jonathon’s eyes briefly meet my mine and then dart away as if searching for danger.
“You’re safe here.” I tell him, hoping to calm him down.
“Yeah, that’s great.” That aggressive edge is still there.
I cross my arms and lean against one of the pillars. It’s an old-fashioned library with big wide steps and a pillared front entrance. I watch Jonathon peer around before his eyes make their way back to me. I wait.
Jonathon doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and then pulls them back out. He rocks back and forth on his feet for a moment and the goes still. He turns in a slow circle taking in the quiet street. He glances up at the sky and, although he appears nervous, he doesn’t seem as afraid of the open sky as I thought he would be.
“Have you been outside before?” I ask, curious.
“No,” the word pops out in a way that makes me think he’s nervous.
I straighten up and drop my arms to my sides, “Why don’t we go have a drink?”
“I don’t have time for that,” again the words just pop out.
“You’ve come all this way for two minutes?” I tilt my head as I regard him, wondering what is going on.
He fidgets for a moment before agreeing, “Okay, let’s have… a drink.”
"Just let me tell Otto where I’m going,” I reply.
“Who’s Otto?” he demands.
I try to think of some city equivalent and decide to tell him, “He’s my boss.”
As a look of revulsion crosses Jonathon’s face, I decide I chose badly. I grab hold of the door and tug it open, “Just wait here. I’ll only be a moment.”
Jonathon’s body twitches as if he’d like to follow me but he nods and steps back to lean against one of the pillars.
I walk through the door and head back to the desk where I find Andrei still checking the returned books. A quick glance around proves Andrei to be alone. “Could you tell Otto I am going to Giselle’s place?”
Andrei nods with a smile on his face as I hear Otto call out from some hidden corner. “Take your time. I know that boy is just out of the city. Be careful with him.”
“Thanks Otto,” I call back and flash a smile at Andrei.
“Have fun,” Andrei whispers with an envious smile. I feel certain Andrei finds Jonathon attractive. Andrei is one of the many people who believe I can tell a person’s sexual orientation by the way they smell. No matter how many times I’ve told him that I can’t, he still believes it.
I step back out into the sunshine to find Jonathon nervously fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere. Walking across the portico, I start down the steps and gesture for Jonathon to follow me.
After a few hours, Otto appears to tell me someone is out front looking for me.
“Who?” I ask but Otto just gets a knowing look on his face as he walks away. His expression makes me think Jerome has stopped by for lunch so I finish cleaning and replacing the books at my feet before picking up the bucket and carrying it back to the front desk.
“Otto said someone is looking for me.” I say to Andrei as I peer around, looking for the person, suddenly convinced that it’s not Jerome.
“Yeah, some guy I’ve never seen before. He is outside. Didn’t want to come in.” Andrei shrugs as he checks off a pile of returned books.
My heart pounds as I walk toward the door. I tell myself that Jonathon would not have come so soon but as I approach the main entrance, I see him standing outside in the sunlight. I slow my pace to observe him for a moment. Out in the sunlight his lack of plastic surgery shows more strongly, the lines of his face appear natural, except for the nose. I wonder if he was born with a big nose, something so horrible that he felt he had to have it fixed. He stands at the edge of the top step, giving me a clear view of his height. He must be a little over six feet, strange that I didn’t notice it last night. As I watch him, he raises a hand to shade his eyes. Sunlight must be something new for him.
I push the door open to greet him, “Hello, Jonathon.”
He whirls around to face me. After a moment, he blurts out the word, “Hi.” Then his eyes drop to stare at my feet with an uncomfortable look on his face. There’s an edge to the way he moves that makes me think he has come here determined to do something.
“I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” I comment, putting my hands in my pockets, trying to appear non-threatening.
“Why not? You knew I had to come.” His voice is a touch hostile and I wonder if he’s afraid being outside for the first time. It could explain his aggressive attitude. Otto told me how frightening he found it and that he felt aggressive to everyone he met. Jonathon’s eyes briefly meet my mine and then dart away as if searching for danger.
“You’re safe here.” I tell him, hoping to calm him down.
“Yeah, that’s great.” That aggressive edge is still there.
I cross my arms and lean against one of the pillars. It’s an old-fashioned library with big wide steps and a pillared front entrance. I watch Jonathon peer around before his eyes make their way back to me. I wait.
Jonathon doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and then pulls them back out. He rocks back and forth on his feet for a moment and the goes still. He turns in a slow circle taking in the quiet street. He glances up at the sky and, although he appears nervous, he doesn’t seem as afraid of the open sky as I thought he would be.
“Have you been outside before?” I ask, curious.
“No,” the word pops out in a way that makes me think he’s nervous.
I straighten up and drop my arms to my sides, “Why don’t we go have a drink?”
“I don’t have time for that,” again the words just pop out.
“You’ve come all this way for two minutes?” I tilt my head as I regard him, wondering what is going on.
He fidgets for a moment before agreeing, “Okay, let’s have… a drink.”
"Just let me tell Otto where I’m going,” I reply.
“Who’s Otto?” he demands.
I try to think of some city equivalent and decide to tell him, “He’s my boss.”
As a look of revulsion crosses Jonathon’s face, I decide I chose badly. I grab hold of the door and tug it open, “Just wait here. I’ll only be a moment.”
Jonathon’s body twitches as if he’d like to follow me but he nods and steps back to lean against one of the pillars.
I walk through the door and head back to the desk where I find Andrei still checking the returned books. A quick glance around proves Andrei to be alone. “Could you tell Otto I am going to Giselle’s place?”
Andrei nods with a smile on his face as I hear Otto call out from some hidden corner. “Take your time. I know that boy is just out of the city. Be careful with him.”
“Thanks Otto,” I call back and flash a smile at Andrei.
“Have fun,” Andrei whispers with an envious smile. I feel certain Andrei finds Jonathon attractive. Andrei is one of the many people who believe I can tell a person’s sexual orientation by the way they smell. No matter how many times I’ve told him that I can’t, he still believes it.
I step back out into the sunshine to find Jonathon nervously fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere. Walking across the portico, I start down the steps and gesture for Jonathon to follow me.