Description: There is more than one way to reach nirvana, this is the tale of one woman's journey to the fringes of experience. There are transitional periods in life, markers that can point oneself in an utterly, new, and perhaps unsettling direction.
Chapter One - Life
She didn't know when she realized it, the sense of crushing ennui that finally shook her free from the chrysalis of her post-educational experience. Perhaps it was the daunting prospect of becoming another worker bee in the vast pool of young hopefuls that finally drove her decision to drop out. Margot simply wasn't that interested in scrambling on the endless social ladder. Consequently, she did not care what her relatives thought of her level of ambition or conformity to their values of proper behavior.
It wasn't that she was a rebel (she really liked to get along with people). She never had a period of wearing dark makeup or dressing down to fight the mainstream or whatever it was the youth were up to in order to stand out from the crowd these days. She didn't run out all night when she was a teenager, nor did she deliberately date bad boys or hang with "the wrong crowd" (code for the ethnicity or demographic that her family did not approve of) although she had her share of oddball flings. All in all, she couldn't say that she had some malformed childhood that would indicate some repressed desire to go to the dark side. She wasn't some Catholic school girl.
Yet, Margot's heart skipped for a moment, perhaps sensing some kind of release, when she saw the advertisement. She had been listlessly skimming some employment websites on her laptop when it had popped up. She knew better than to respond to such salacious offers. In fact, she'd scoffed at the idiots who fell for such bait. Something was different about this one. Its understated tone intrigued her as it stood out against the lurid background of ads promoting quick hookups, easy money working from home, health extracts, and similar scams. It was a simple white banner with black text in a default serif font asking simply, "Do you want to change your life? Call the number below."
Margot snorted dubiously, "Some religious cult? Probably a self-help shyster pushing a seminar."
Still, she found herself jotting down the number. She figured she'd prank call it just to waste their time. Then she realized she was late for the date, arranged by her aunt on short notice. Margot had hated the idea but could not refuse-it just wasn't in her nature. Standing in front of her full length mirror in her one room flat, Margot took stock of herself.
Reflected in the glass was a petite woman with honey blond curls that went past her shoulders. She'd put on a tight dress-hem cut above the knees but not too short to be immodest-that accentuated her natural curves, mostly at the hips which were a bit wide for her frame. She had to watch what she ate or she'd turn into a pear, she thought.
However, she turned slightly to adjust the cloth over what she considered her best feature: her butt. It was quite a standout and she was proud of it though she tried not to turn into a narcissist about it. Her natural breasts were restrained by a strapless brassiere that kept her shoulders clean for a night out. She fussed at the neckline hoping it wasn't too daring for a first date. Well, she rarely went out these days so she decided it was a good opportunity to impress despite her reservations about the whole thing.
Her face was petite, lightly freckled on the cheeks, with a slim nose and jawline that accentuated her large eyes. Her features resembled the distant French heritage of her given name although her family was a hybrid mix of several varieties, some unmentionable for fear of a schism. Otherwise, she was conservative with her makeup although she did give a bit of a sweep to her eye shadow that accentuated the swan like turn at the edges that many people said gave her an insouciant charm. Margot slipped on some designer heels, her matching clutch which held her ID plus sundries, and went out to play the game of life, at least for now.
Much like that popular game, Margot imagined that she was on that fixed track, having spun the wheel and landing on an important life event. He turned out to be everything one could hope for, kind, well-mannered, and already successful in his career. In other words, her aunt had not been wrong: he was prime marriage material. She practically saw the little plastic car with three, perhaps four, pins representing a happy, nuclear family on their way to the HOA approved subdivision. Over dinner, it was clear that he was smitten although Margot figured he was hopeless as soon as she'd met him at the rendezvous. He'd been scanning the people walking into the lobby of the tower-which had a fancy ristorante at the top-for a few minutes until his eyes had locked on her as she clicked her heels on the terrazzo floor. If he could sweep her away to a promised never land, it was clear that he would from that moment.
Margot bathed for a moment in the possibility as he chattered away over their platters of antipasti. He was attractive although a bit heavier than she'd want. The lack of ostentatious jewelry or a gauche watch band were positive marks for Margot, however she could tell that he had good taste as the materials of his clothes were of high quality. A proper gentleman, he opened the door for her when he drove them out on the town in his late-model European saloon. Margot sunk into the heated leather seat, thinking that this lifestyle could definitely suit her.
And then: a show, drinks, a dance, all the hallmarks of a cliche outing that Margot had always thought were not for her. Yet, she enjoyed it, and when the end of the evening came with her, and him, outside of the steps to her place where thousands, or millions, of other people had said the same things and done the same things ending in a tumble of bed sheets and sultry mornings with self-conscious smiles leading to a happy future, or perhaps disappointment later, it ended with her simply saying goodnight and turning away after false promises of another night out. He remained a gentleman to the end.
She never thought of him again.
It was exactly that she could imagine a future with that man that she had turned away. Her heart had run cold, aware that she was on the brink of a commitment that could secure her future for many years to come. So when she rejected that prospect in her own mind, she had doubts of course, for opportunities like this one would always lead to regrets when not grasped. Margot didn't even know why she objected to such a future so firmly. It didn't matter. She took out the slip of paper where she had written that number.
After the other end picked up, a man's voice simply said, "There will be a car to pick you up. Please send your location as a text message to this number. Serious inquiries only."
They had hung up before she could even respond. Another chill hit her spine before she composed herself. It was clearly designed to be intimidating in order to weed out the undecided or dilettantes, or attract the nut jobs, she thought to herself. With some foreboding, Margot walked a few blocks away from home, not for any semblance of security she knew, she just needed to work off some nervous energy. It was dark and cool, although the nights were fairly temperate these days, and the neighborhood was considered average in terms of crime. However, it was still a bit risky for a young woman to be out alone.
The car arrived surprisingly quickly, as if it had been waiting in the wings all along. It was a stretched livery with tinted windows. A trill of fear, and rationality, made her pause before opening the door. For all she knew, this could be some trafficker who intended to ship her off another country to become a slave to some oligarch or, worse, she'd end up disappearing forever in someone's lair or as a statistic on a crime log. These were all real risks, and in the end some of it did come true, at least the part where she vanishes, never to be seen again in this place.
Margot tried to calm her heart down as she sat in the back seat of the livery, her hand on her phone ready to speed dial the police if necessary. The interior was well appointed with all the usual items including a minibar. The privacy partition between the driver and the passenger compartment meant that she had no idea who was in front, otherwise the vehicle was empty. As a modern fuel cell model, it was nearly silent as it began moving.
There was a screen mounted across from her seat, as she settled down it flickered on and someone began speaking, a man but not the one than the one in the phone call. Instead of a face, it just showed some idyllic landscape, as the voice announced, "Welcome. To get things started, I want to assure you that this conveyance will stop immediately and let you out if you so wish at any time. I apologize for the air of mystery, but we found that this was an excellent way of screening out unsuitable candidates. Please respond with the affirmative if you wish to proceed to the next step. Once again, you may retract your permission at any time."
She nodded, clearing her throat, "Yes, please. Am I to assume, by the nature of this setup, that I am offering my services?" Her neck flushed.
"I see that you are quite astute. Indeed, we are a specialized organization tasked with recruiting qualified individuals who wish a fresh start in life, just as previously tendered."
"That's still kind of vague, and why can't I see your face? I assume the camera on that thing can see mine. Who are you?"
"We've found that the mystery enhances the particular nature of the experience that we are offering. For now, you may call me Fred."
"Can you tell me what this experience is, exactly? Uh, Fred?" she pushed.
