“A… Mirror…” Cherie repeats with a slightly confused tone.
“Oh right, sorry,” Noah says as he begins to pace back and forth. “Name is Noah Williams, nice to meet you.”
“This is Cherie Derry,” I say as I step to one side so that Cherie is not hiding behind me.
“…Cherie Derry,” she repeats as she follows my step and hides behind me anyway.
I turn around to face Cherie, and I lead her to have a seat on a dusty grey couch. “Just sit here for a moment, alright?”
“…for a moment, alright…”
I whisper to Noah, “Can we talk somewhere real quick?”
Wordlessly Noah leads me out of the room and into an old storage room adjacent from his living quarters.
“No changes,” Noah says as though he knows the question is coming.
“No…” I object, “You don’t need to do that with me, I know it annoys you… it is not about that. She just needs time to reset. If we keep talking she is going to keep repeating things or mimic what we are doing.”
“You brought another case with you?”
“Yeah, I thought it’d be good for her to get out.”
“Not necessary for your job, what does it matter to you?”
“It isn’t just about the job. I just wanted to help. She had a rough time yesterday and then some asshole said something mean to her—she doesn’t understand why she can’t get out… so I just wanted to get her out. I hope it is alright with you.” I say as I try and explain the situation. I’m just glad I’ve caught Noah at an especially lucid moment.
“Yeah it’s alright.”
“So if she starts repeating, just take a break from the conversation and she’ll eventually be able to reset herself.” I say as I glance into the other room.
“You an odd one, you know?”
“Why?” I ask, confused.
“Never mind,” Noah says as he shakes his head. “They were wrong about the rain again.”
“It rained all day yesterday,” I say as I back away and head back towards Noah’s room. “Not here. It never rains here anymore.”
“One day it will rain.”
“You the same guy that came on Monday aren’t you?” Noah asks. He then turns his attention to Cherie. “Are you in training?”
“It’s me,” I say as I grow a little upset at the drastic turn. “Ethan Chase, Remember? This is… Cherie, she is a friend that I thought would like to meet you.”
“…a friend.” Cherie says as she looks down to the floor and bites nervously at her fingernails.
Noah looks away to the TV set that is turned off. He gives it a good strike for no good particular reason.
Cherie pulls her legs up to her body and wraps her arms around them.
“She doesn’t like certain noises,” I say as I start to think that this was all a bad idea.
“…doesn’t like certain noises.”
Noah reaches over and grabs a bottle of water and hands it to Cherie. She nods as she takes the bottle. He then looks over to me and winks. He then spends a while looking down at the floor.
My mind begins to change as I realize that I haven’t made a mistake. Noah is purposefully keeping quiet—he is more aware than I thought. After a short time he finally breaks the silence.
“Good to meet you, Cherie.”
“It’s good to meet you too, Noah.”
“So Ethan here, he’s a pretty good Sitter, right?”
“He’s much nicer than my last one.”
“Thanks,” I add. Despite the fact that they are talking about me like I am not there—I still appreciate the gesture that they both think I’m doing a good job.
“He carried me in during the rain when I couldn’t walk,” Cherie says as she continues to nervously pick at her fingernails.
“Not a lot of Sitters would do that for anyone,” Noah says as he looks to me with an odd look in his eyes. “Even if it is their job, most of them are too afraid, or just don’t like… people like us.”
“Not many do, not until we get cured.”
I expect Noah to make a comment about how there is not going to be a cure or a conspiracy. However, to my surprise, he does not. Instead, he looks sad and just mutters, “Yeah.”
Attempting to break the saddened mood, I clap my hands together and say, “Hey, how about some pizza—I’m buying of course… well C-Shape is.”
“They’ll make you meet them at the road,” Noah says as he continues to stare at the floor sadly. “The delivery driver makes my mother roll all the way out to the road to pick up the delivery.”
“I’m fine with that,” I say as I nod. Hearing that does make me feel rather bad for Mrs. Williams, it seems like such an unfair thing to do to anyone, let alone someone who has suffered a stroke. “I’ll meet them at the street.”
“They’re afraid.”
“They’re afraid…” Cherie repeats as she continues to fidget nervously on the couch.
I place the order on my cell, and after a while I meet the deliveryman on the side of the road, just as he instructed. I swipe my phone over his and the transaction has been completed. I take the boxes of pizza back into the house. Right as I enter I am stopped by Mrs. Williams who stares at me and shakes her head.
“It’s not right.”
“A lot of things aren’t right these days,” I say in reply. “People are afraid and they act out of fear.”
“What they’re doing to people like my son, everywhere… it’s not right,” She says as she begins to roll herself away without another word.
I bring the food downstairs and place it on small clean spot on Noah’s table. The rest of it is covered in old newspapers, blank sheets of computer paper and an assortment of old pens and pencils that are neatly arranged in an order that I don’t quite comprehend. I go to the kitchen area and grab three plates, when I return I notice that both Noah and Cherie are just staring vacantly down at the floor. For a moment I wonder what they are thinking about, if anything at all. Perhaps this is some kind of drug induced state that happens, either way; I find it a little creepy and a little too familiar.
“Hey,” I say, attempting to rouse the pair. “Let’s have some lunch.”
As Noah reaches for a piece of pizza and places it on his plate, he turns to me and asks, “Was it raining outside?”
“Not today, Noah,” I say as I shake my head. It appears that Noah might be going into an incoherent state.
“In the springtime, in Paris, it rains every day—that’s when it is most beautiful,” Cherie says as she pecks at a small piece of pizza.
“Are there stars in Paris?”
“Billions,” Cherie says. “…more than anywhere else in the world,” she adds as she stares up to the ceiling with a forlorn look in her eyes. “I’ve been there a few times… Paris. In fact, I just got back this morning.”
“How was it?” Noah asks as he reaches for a second piece.
“A little disappointing,” Cherie says as she sighs heavily, but then turns to me and smiles. “We didn’t get to see the Eiffel Tower because of the weather, but… I think I’ll head back there on Sunday—and I did get to meet my new Sitter. So next time we go I think it’ll be better. So all in all, not completely disappointing really.”
“Did you know that when we take our pills we are eating stars?” Noah says, as he pulls out his little white and blue bottle from the drawer. “Why do they call themselves C-Shapes, Ethan Chase?”
“I don’t know…” I reply, I recall already having this conversation and how I assumed it was based upon the shape of the C, but that was at best a weak theory and how Noah believed that it represented the sea itself and its constantly changing, uncontrollable shape.