The Professor
Recap: Molly has approached her former professor on whom she has a deep crush. They exchange stories to explore their fantasies and philosophies as he attempts to rein in her emotions.
Thursday, Day 7 Love
Molly ran errands in the morning while Stephen worked. In the evening it was time to read stories. As usual, more Molly read her composition first.
Experiment
Cathy woke up very slowly. She was groggy and shut her eyes against the bright lights and dozed off again. When she finally forced herself awake she had no idea where she was. She was lying naked on a bed -- no, a mattress. There were no sheets or blankets -- no pillow. She looked around for her clothes. The room was unfamiliar and quite bare.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" There was only silence. She looked across the room and saw herself, naked, sitting on a mattress. A third of the wall was a huge mirror, from floor to ceiling.
First, find something to put on
. As she stood up she found the floor was a plush carpet. To her left, in the corner was a bathroom, or rather a bath area. Curious. The shower came directly out of the ceiling over a section of tile floor with a drain, but there was no shower curtain. There was no curtain rod. Next to the shower were a toilet and a sink. There was no towel or towel rack, not even a medicine cabinet. A toothbrush hung on the wall. There were three dispensers on the wall with labels: Shampoo, Soap, and Toothpaste. Spartan. Thank goodness there is toilet paper. She sat down and cleared her bladder.
Along this wall was another full-length mirror, not so wide as the first. The next corner had an upholstered reading chair with two shelves of books set into the wall. She walked past the bed to the other side of the room. Most of the length of the final wall was a bare countertop topped by a mirror. The single cabinet below the counter was fairly large, but it was locked. She sat down on a plain desk chair. On the counter was something like a TV set with a keyboard. A desk computer. She had never handled one these new contraptions before, but had seen one from a distance. The only other item of interest in the room was a treadmill in the last corner.
It dawned on her that there was no door. She examined the walls again. Where there was no mirror, there were panels covered in carpeting. Each panel was about four feet wide and ran floor to ceiling. She examined each one for a handle or evidence of an opening, but there was neither. She began pressing them, but nothing gave. The mirrors, too, were part of the wall. The ceiling was covered with acoustic tile. She could reach it by standing on the bed or the desk, but it appeared solid. The lighting was recessed around the edges on all sides. The carpet was a single piece, also. No trapdoors there.
Defeated and frightened she sat on the bed, her back to the wall.
Some kind of fiendish cell
, she concluded. She shouted, "Is anyone out there?!" The silence itself was odd. There was no echo.
Of course. The carpet on the floor and walls and the acoustic tile in the ceiling make perfect sound-proofing. Even if someone were there they wouldn't hear me. But where is "there"?
How did I get in here?
She struggled to remember.
I remember going to classes. It is Friday. Or was. I must have eaten in the cafeteria. What did I have for dinner? Oh, yeah, that awful chicken casserole. I was with Beth and Sharon. They were talking about a party. Did I go? I don't remember a party. Of course, I would have gone with them; I always do, just to hang out. I always sit there miserably not being able to have a conversation over the loud music. Where was it? I can't remember. Did we walk? I can't remember. Who was there? I can't picture anything. Not even Beth or Sharon. I probably had my token drink, but I don't remember. All I know is waking up of this stupid bed. Someone must have drugged me. That's how they got me here without a struggle, and probably that accounts for my memory loss.
So I just wait here until someone comes for me? Someone has to. They wouldn't put me in here just to starve to death. And when they come, what will I do? Is there anything I can use for a weapon. She walked around the room again. The only things I can pick up are a toothbrush, hairbrush, paperbacks, and the computer.
She looked again at the computer. It was bolted to the counter, along with the keyboard.
And the chair
. She laughed at the image of herself hurtling the chair to disarm someone.
For a while the absurdity of her predicament kept the fear away, but that did not last long. The thought of a jailor bringing her food made her hungry.
What time is it? What day is it? If I was drugged, I could have been out for days. Of course, there's no clock.
She lay on the bed feeling completely helpless and tried in vain to think of reasons this had happened to her. Eventually she fell into fitful sleep.
When she awoke, nothing had changed. Absolutely nothing. She had no idea how much more time had passed. She went to the sink to clean up. Then she noticed a switch on the wall. She flipped it and felt a current of warm air over her head. She had not noticed a hair dryer installed in the wall. There was another vent below. She could shower and dry herself off. The hot air on her body felt good and she realized that she had been chilly in her nakedness. For once she felt grateful for a small pleasure.
If I am going to be here . . .
But another sickening realization sank in.
This room is built for someone to live in. It is not merely a holding cell. Books, hygiene, a treadmill for exercise.
"
Trapped like a rat in a cage." Where did that thought come from?
OK. Work this through. There must be food.
She searched every inch of the room one more time. Nothing.
This is like a computer game. Everything is here for a reason and everything I need is here.
She looked around again. The purpose of each piece of furniture or accessory was obvious. There was only one thing she didn't understand.
Why is there a computer here? I should figure out how to work it.
The power button was easy to find. The computer began to hum. After a minute or two a blinking orange line appeared in the upper lift hand corner of the dark screen. She waited a while longer, but it did not change. She pressed a button at random on the keyboard. The letter h appeared. The backspace key deleted it. Whatever she typed appeared on the screen.
Now what?
She looked at the keyboard carefully. There was a key in the upper corner that said "menu." She pressed it. A listing of items appeared on the screen.
1- Talk
2 - Music
3 - Movie
4 - Diary
She pressed 4. The screen reset. A title across the top read "Entry number ___". She pressed 1. The blinking orange line moved automatically to the next line. "I was born," she typed.
This might be amusing later.
She hit the menu key again and chose 2. Another list appeared on the screen with choices of different types of music. She returned to the menu and hit 1. The screen with "Talk" at the top and an orange greater-than sign blinking on the next line. She typed in
> Hello
- Hello
> Who are you?
- I am I
> What is your name?
- I don't know name
> Can you help me?
- How can I help you?
> Where am I?
- You are here.
> Where is here?
- Here is here.
> Why am I here?
- I don't know why
> How did I get here?
- You are here
> How do I get out?
- I don't know out
> I am hungry
