Water Works

By the time we were on our feet, the water was already ankle deep. We tried to make our way to the closet to shut off the valve, but we were thrown back once more. We knew a hasty retreat was in order. Walking through water is more difficult than one might think. Your clothes become increasingly heavy , making each step all the more tiresome. Curiously, the water seemed to get deeper the more we journeyed. Before we knew it, it was up to our waists. We grabbed hold of a desk, and used it as a raft. It worked for a time, until a wave crashed into our raft and submerged us. I searched frantically under the deep blue for Olivia's hand. Long story short, I didn't find her, she found me. She held me tight, and we swam underwater for what felt like a lifetime. Right about when I felt as if I might pass out from lack of oxygen, we found the exit. The only exit in the mail room. With a mighty, powerful thrust, we pulled the door open. We were hurled out the door and across the street. The water dispersed in every possible direction, and we were left mangled and soaked on the sidewalk.

Follow the String

We follow the thin, stringy cobweb along the ceiling. The mail room is vast, and the cobweb is seemingly endless. There are times when I think we lost it, or it ended, then I shift my focus and realize the cobweb stretches on further. It crawls across the ceiling, past a closet door. We hesitantly stop at the door. "What do you think is on the other side?" I ask. "Only one way to find out." She informs me. Olivia opens the closet door and shouts out "Ha!" only to see a darkened closet. She throws the light switch. We see the cobweb wrapped around a water pipe."Guess this is where it stops." I say. Though I didn't expect much out of our venture, I am disappointed that nothing was on the other side of the door. "Shall we go?" I ask. "Hold on, something is happening. Look at the pipe." I examine the pipe closely. The valve is loosening. "I don't think we should be in here." I say, worriedly. "Why not?" Before I could explain my concerns, the valve is thrown off. We are then sprayed with highly pressurized water, and launched a foot back.

Cobweb

Olivia points to a wall. I squint my eyes, trying to see what she sees. "Cobwebs." She says. I lean to the left. The slight change of perspective allows me to see a thin string stretched across the room. "You want me to take care of it?" I ask. "No, don't you see it?" "Now that I'm at the right angle, yes." Olivia grabs me by the hand. She has me stand exactly where she is and stare at the cobweb. "Look, it stretches all the way across the room." She says. I shrug. "I'm not too surprised. It's not like anyone dusts around here." "You don't seem to care." She says, forlorn. "When you said you saw something, I wasn't picturing a cobweb." "But look how big it is. Where do you think it goes?" "I don't know." Olivia's eyes light up. "Exactly, and we should find out."

Break Time

Since I began my journey into the work world there has been this odd, hidden message that only smokers have stress. Doesn't seem to matter where I go. That always seems to be the case. It's almost as if I get punished for having a healthier lifestyle. When we are young , we are told smoking is one of the worst possible things we could do. Some hear this , and knowingly deviate. They may be able to hide their vice for a few weeks, months, or even years. Eventually they do get caught. They are met with scorn and outrage. They become ostracized because their habit is vile in the eyes of many. After some time, they are allowed back into society. Everyone accepts that this is now part of their character. The individual could change if they wanted to, but being that they are a victim they can't. So, we now feel sympathy. We give them all the cigarette breaks they need. This is how they cope. In the mail room, no higher ups ask if you smoke. In fact, you are allowed to take as many breaks as you need. But when you do so, a co worker always eyes you funny. You can tell he's thinking "what's he doing? He doesn't smoke." To hell with them though. I'm outside whether they like it or not. Maybe the open air will help me think. Olivia rushes outside. "You come out for a smoke too?" I joke. She smiles briefly. "Did you see something strange?" She asks. "Like a talking fly?" She shakes her head. "No." "What?" I ask. "I'd rather just show you because if you can also see it that means I'm not going crazy." "Ok . Let's go."

Shoo Fly

It was a strange incident, no doubt, but after a few days we didn't think much of it. We didn't think much at all. One might wonder, how could that be? It's easy. Unless one deliberately goes out searching for magic and synchronizations, then one would not notice the strangeness and wonder that life has to offer. Even if said strangeness is particularly unusual. If the individual becomes like an ostrich, burying their head in work or material pleasures, then any conceivable sign would not get through to them. My story continues with a pest. It was a humid morning, and someone opened one of the few windows. It allowed minimal air circulation as well as a fly. Normally, such a thing would not bother me. However, it kept buzzing near my ear. The more I tried to swat it away, the more tenacious it became. Avoiding my hand, it flew closer to my ear. I heard a high pitched, stretched out "staaaaay". This took me by surprise. Had this insect communicated with me? The fly then flew to my other ear, continuing the message. "Beeeee paaatient." As soon as the fly finished, it buzzed out of sight. I couldn't believe it. The job was finally getting to me. I thought I must be having a stress induced hallucination. So, I decided to take a much needed break.

Letter to Us

Time passed by. Olivia and I grew to enjoy working in the mail room. We'd punch in in the morning. By noon we'd slip out for lunch. There was a hot dog vendor out front that we would frequent. Mind you, they weren't Chicago style hot dogs, but they were acceptable. Then we'd go back, finish up the day, and do it all over again in the morning. It seems utterly predictable and routine when I put it that way. Perhaps it was, though I don't take that as a negative. You knew what you were getting yourself into each day. All you had to do was keep busy and mind your own. No one would bother you. There was no micro managing. None of that nonsense. It was paradise. Things were going so well that I almost forgot we had a life before this. That is until I was sorting through a bin of letters. There was one in particular that caught my eye. The envelope was yellowed with time. On it was a red, wax seal. Curious, I flipped it over. There I saw it was addressed to Olivia and me. "Hey, come here!" I Shouted to her. She rushed to my side and I showed her the letter. "Who sent it?" She asked. "I don't know, there's no return address." We both knew we had seen such a letter before, but we coudln't figure out from where. In dreams perhaps? "Open it." She urged me. Carefully , I opened the envelope. Inside was a single page letter with small type. It read ALL IS WELL WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN. And that was it. No signature. No explanation. "Who do you think it is?" Olivia asked. "I have no idea." "Management?" "Maybe." That suggestion rattled us both. We scanned the room for cameras. We couldn't find anything. We went back to work shaken. Someone, or something was watching us.

Mail Room

Our new assignment? Our new job. Mail room. We were taken to the basement, to an old fashioned mail room. There are tubes, letters everywhere, horrible lighting, and not a lot of people. It's awesome. I'm on cloud nine, this is it for me. Olivia ,not so much. "Where's the fire?" She asks. I furrow my brow. "Aren't you upset?" She continues. "Why would I be?" I ask. Olivia takes a deep breath. "One of your best and also most infuriating qualities at times is that your mind is seemingly never at rest. It's always questioning things." She explains. I shrug. "So why now do you just accept that this is our life?" Olivia asks. I pause from sending the letters through tubes. "Solitude." I respond simply. Olivia looks around. There are a few nefarious characters here and there. "The ex convicts won't bother us." I joke. Olivia shakes her head. "A little solitude here and there isn't a bad thing." I tell her. "I suppose not, but why would Peter send us here?" "Maybe we just needed some quiet. To recharge the batteries." Olivia sighs. " I don't want to be a recluse." "I don't either, and we won't."

Recommendation

The men, still smoking their cigars, glare at us. They wait for us to speak. I slide down from our falcon. Eyeing each of them individually, I try to decide who is the head honcho. Who is worthy of the letter. That's when I see a man at the far end of the table. He hides partially in the shadows with his hands folded. I make my way to him. I reveal the letter to him. He angrily snatches it from my hand. He reads it over, semi audible. After he is done reading the letter, he places it on the table and says "Ok." He beckons Olivia towards us. As soon as she walks to the end of the table where we are, the boss nods to the falcon. The falcon squawks loudly and flies out the window. "let's get to work." He says to us. "What's going on?" I ask. The boss smiles. "It's a letter of recommendation. Whoever it was said some good things. Now, to the elevator. We'll get you both started."

Crash the Meeting

I have no idea where we are going. Yes, that does bother me. It's the realization that I am not in control. I suppose no one is, but when you are reminded of the fact it is very daunting. To me at least. "Go with the flow." I whisper to myself. Olivia overhears me. "That's right." She says. She turns her attention to the city looming ahead of us. I see skyscrapers galore, but none that I recognize. Right now I can rule out Chicago and New York. So, we're most likely not visiting Mr. Bones. Maybe wherever we are going will give me a new perspective. Not just for one day, but something that will stick with me. As hard as it may be, it makes more sense for me to change aspects of myself than to yell at the world until it changes. The falcon weaves between tall buildings. I have a feeling we're getting closer. Near the top of one of the skyscrapers is an open window. The falcon swoops in. We land in the middle of a long , wooden table, interrupting a business meeting of some sort. A room full of men in pin striped suits veer at us while smoking fat cigars.

Falcon Flight

Our falcon guides us high above the Earth. We glide through thin, wispy clouds. "This is amazing!" I exclaim. "I'm glad you get to experience it." Olivia says. "Was this what it was like?" I ask as we narrowly avoid a mountain. "Better because you're here." I feel more alive after hearing here statement. "Where did you go anyways?" I ask. "Just visiting the family. Cross the T's, dot the i's. That sort of thing." Our bird drops a few feet. "We must be getting closer." I say. "Or he's showing off." Olivia responds. Sure enough, our falcon ascends back in the air. "What did you do while I was gone?" She asks. "I played checkers with George Washington. Then I got caught in a net." "Oh yeah. We had that weird helmet. What happened to it ?" "It broke." Olivia shrugs. " I don't think we need it." I view the Earth beneath me. Below us is a gaggle of geese flying in the opposite direction. "Where do you think he's taking us ?" I ask . "Who cares?"

The Stable

Outside the Wellness Center, before you reach the gates is a stable. Inside you won't find the ordinary farm animals. There are no horses , cows, lambs, or sheep. Here you will find only falcons. Large, majestic, falcons. They are about six feet in height. The width is at least three feet. Peter feeds one of the falcons corn pellets from his hand. "Beautiful, aren't they?" He says to us. "They're gorgeous. I was hoping I'd see one again." Olivia replies. The falcon finishes eating. Peter wipes his hand on his pants. "They are something. Wonderful creatures." He says while grabbing a saddle. "You sure he knows where to go?" I ask. Peter hoists the saddle on to the falcon. "Positive. They innately know where the message must be delivered." "And he doesn't mind carrying both of us?" I ask. "The weight is nothing to these fine birds." Peter finishes harnessing the saddle. "The falcons are loyal through and through. Be good to them and you will have a marvelous companion." Peter offers his hand to Olivia. She accepts, and he helps her onto the bird. "Then what?" I ask. Peter raises his eyebrow. " I don't understand." He says. "What happens after we deliver the message?" Peter laughs to himself. "Then it all begins."

The Lobby

Styrofoam or mug? I'm in the Wellness lobby, deciding how I should drink my coffee this morning . If I take the mug it may be better for the environment. However, how certain can I be that these mugs ate thoroughly cleaned? What is more important to me today? Saving the environment or saving my health? Enough with the nonsense. I reach for the mug. I'm sure they are as clean as clean can be. In the end though, that's not why I took it. I just always liked the look and feel of a mug, but no one needs to know my love of aesthetics outweighs any other concern. Peter, Berry, and Olivia sit on leather chairs and watch a lacrosse game. Berry cheers loudly. Olivia and Peter watch silently. "It's a shame America is only picking up on this game now." Berry shouts. "Yeah, I really don't know much about it." Olivia says. Peter smiles. "That's because it's a rich mans sport." Berry appears offended. "No, you're thinking of Tennis or Golf." "Tennis, not so much anymore, but golf, yes, indeed." Peter replies. "Why is golf a rich man sport?" Olivia asks. "Because rich men need to pay to be bored." Berry quips. Peter ignores him and continues. "Think about it this way, it's a relatively simple sport. The only thing you really need is land, a lot of it. Perhaps something that can only be bought... or conquered." "That's a good theory." Berry says. "You don't buy into it?" Peter asks. "All I'm saying is that if I had all that money I wouldn't make it into a golf course." "What would you spend it on, Berry?" Peter asks. Berry struggles to answer the question. I stumble in and sit on the arm Olivia's chair. "He's here!" Berry shouts, changing the subject. "Berry was just about to explain what he would do with a plot of land that could be used as a golf course if he had all the money in the world." Peter says. "Why does he have to do anything with the land?" I ask. Peter gives an approving nod . "That's what I meant! I just couldn't explain. Because the land is sacred, it shouldn't be touched." He exclaims. " I'm sure that's what you meant. Anyways, we have something for you." Peter says to me, brushing off the previous conversation. Berry takes a deep breath. "Yeah, something for the both of you." Peter reaches into his breast pocket. He pulls out a letter with a red, wax seal. "You must deliver this." Peter says, sternly. "What is it?" I ask. "That is of no concern. You are to deliver it, and that is all." "Where is it going?" "Your ride will know." He says confidently. I stare blankly. "Remember that falcon I rode a few months back?" Olivia asks me. "Yes." "It was sent from here." I'm still unsure how to respond. "Are we being kicked out of the club?" I ask. "No." Peter responds. "I don't understand. Were we a bad fit?" "No, but you are needed elsewhere." I stand, bewildered. Peter rests his hand on my shoulder. "Trust all will be well."

Sauna

Allow me to clarify, I like saunas. I like them a great deal... when I'm by myself. Somehow, I don't find it relaxing when I am in an enclosed area with a relative stranger, and the only thing between the two of us is a thin layer of towel. Berry can barely fit in the room. His horns nearly touch the ceiling. A mythological creature, and a hot dry place. I grin to myself, thinking this must be the oddest picture of hell. Berry sees me smiling. "What's so funny?" He asks. "Just a joke I remembered a while back." Berry leaves it at that. He leans back. "Was that your girl in the dress back there?" He asks. "Yes." "She's cute." "Oh, thanks." I say, not sure how to respond. "I always think it's weird when guys respond like that. As if they had anything to do with it." "How do you want me to respond?" I ask. Berry shakes his head. "I don't know." There is an awkward silence. I'm hoping the timer will run out soon, and I can leave and never come back. "You always wear that red cape?" "Except when I'm in the sauna." I reply. "What's the deal with it?" "I like it. You ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn't know me." "Yet." He says, sharply. I turn my head, confused. " I don't know you yet." He explains. "You want to know me?" I ask. "Maybe, at least if you're going to be coming around here." I take a deep breath. "What do you want to know?" I ask. "Do you have trust issues?" "Excuse me." "You just seem easily agitated and guarded." He says. I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry I'm not more open." I say, sarcastically. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to yourself." Annoyed, I get up off the wooden bench. I start to open the door, Berry shouts to me. "Will you come back?" He asks. " I don't know. Probably not." "Well, get dressed and meet me in the lobby." "Why?" I ask. "Just do it, and then I'll leave you alone forever." "Ok." I open the door and exit the sauna.

The Game

I'm trying my best not to flinch. To be quite and perfectly honest, I find this sport terrifying. I don't like anything whizzing near my face. Especially something that could hurt me. I don't even know the rules. All I do is swing the racket and hope for the best. Berry assumed I knew how to play. I guess that's my fault. I should have spoken up. Blah blah blah missed opportunity. I know, no sense in beating myself up about it. At least not now when my concentration must be maximized. Berry takes a mighty swing, launches the ball off the wall. It falls to the floor and rolls to my feet. Berry throws his hands in the air. He lets out a loud whoop. "Victory! Yeah!" He shouts, obnoxiously. He puts his hand out for a high five. "High five." I reluctantly agree to high five him. "You played good." He says. "Really? I had no idea what I was doing." Berry laughs. " I know. But you kept going. You're tenacious. I like that." "Oh, thanks." "Alright, let's hit the sauna." He says. "I couldn't do that." "Sure you can. It'll be fun." "I don't know, it seems kinda weird." Berry squints his eyes. "Why, it's what you do after a game." I shake my head. "Sure, let's go."

The Minotaur

The sinister silhouette stands before us. Eyes as red as blood and horns that could pierce the sky. He judges us, no doubt. Our executioner is here. If only I paid more attention in English class.I would know how to defeat this thing. Zeus's head exploded, basically giving birth to the Greek Gods. After that it is a blur. I couldn't tell you which God fought what monster, and I definitely couldn't tell you how they killed them. Perhaps this is just. Perhaps this is fair. Penance, as one might call it. He takes one step inside. I can clearly see his hoof. It is a ghastly sight. He makes his way into the light. Upon his head is a workout headband, and his sword is a racket. "Peter!" He shouts with a jubilant expression. "Barry, good to see you." Peter responds. "Duane and Chuck couldn't make it. You mind if I practice by myself?" He asks. Peter shakes his head. "Not at all. I'm just giving a tour to our new clients." Barry studies us. "Do we let anyone in here now?" I am taken aback. I never knew Minotaurs could be so snobbish. I am not sure how to respond. Olivia on the other hand starts to leave. "Where are you going?" He asks. Olivia turns. "If this is how people act is this club, we don't need to be here." "Then prove me wrong." He says. "What?" I ask. "Prove that you should be here." "No, that's stupid. We don't need to prove anything to anybody." Olivia says. "Hold on, I'll stay." I say, firmly. Olivia walks up to me. "What? Why?" I look Barry dead in his eyes. "Because I thought he was here to kill us. If I could stay for an execution, I can stay for a game." Barry laughs. "Why would I kill you?" "Because of the story of the Minotaur and the maze." I reply. Barry appears offended. "That's racist. Maybe that happened, but that was thousands of years ago.You can't say all Minotaurs are like that." "I'm sorry, what I said was ignorant. But I will challenge you to a game."

Ungulate

We venture to the second floor up a spiral staircase. The steps are seemingly unconnected and floating in air."What do you think so far?" Peter asks. "It's impressive." Olivia responds. "Good, there is plenty of splendor left." We reach the top of the stairs. Peter takes us to a large room. The walls are white and filled with scuff marks. "This is where one would go to play racket ball." He says. His voice bouncing off the walls. "This is like a gym." I say. "Yes, yes. There are many similarities. Do either of you play the sport of racket ball?" We both shake our heads no. "Do you?" Olivia asks. "Oh, no, but I hear it's a great deal of fun." "I always found it to be a bit unnerving." I reply. "I could see that. You know who frequents this place?" He asks. "Who?" Olivia wonders. Peter smiles. " Well, not so much a matter of who." "What?" I ask. "Ungulates." He says, excitedly. "What is that?" I ask. "Ungulates are creatures with hooves." He replies. Olivia and I stare at each other."So, it's horses?" I ask. "No." "Bulls or cows?" Olivia asks. "Not exactly." "What do you mean by that?" I ask. Just then we hear a loud stomping. "Sounds like one of them just arrived." Peter says. The door swings open. Though we are a few feet away, I can tell this is no ordinary creature. It's what's found at the heart of a mythological maze. A hoofed animal with the body of a man and head of a bull. It's a Minotaur! It carries a broad sword and stand menacingly before us.

Wellness Center

Peter guides us through the automatic doors. They are similar to the doors at a grocery store except much larger. Inside it's open air. No ceiling and minimal walls. There are rows of books that stretch the length of a football field. Despite the size of the library, it is only divided into three sections. They are labeled as Body, Mind, and Spirit. The Wellness Center has more to offer than the library. However, my fondness for a good book overpowers any curiosity of continuing the tour at the moment. Peter sees me veering off to the library. "Yes, we can stop here." He says. I go the closest section which happens to be Body. I glance over the titles. Peter notices me furrow my brow. "Something catch your eye ?" He asks. "Yes." I pull out a book and hold it up to him. The title reads SOY! the Beautiful, Magnificent, Wonderful Plant. "That's a good read." He tells me. "Ok, but right next to it was this." I pull out a book that reads Stay Away, Soy. "I enjoyed what I read of that." He says. I shake my head and place the books on the shelf. "So what is it?" I ask. " I don't understand." "I want to know if it's good or bad." I say , frustrated. "Oh, I suppose it's both." He says , with an innocent tone. "How?" I demand. Olivia jumps in. "It feels like a contradiction to us to have both books side by side." "It does?" He asks. I nod. "Yes, you're a Wellness Center. You need to take a firm stance." Olivia says. Peter takes the information in. He thinks for a moment. " I guess we figured that no one likes being told what to do, and that the individual should form their own conclusions." "That makes sense, but surely the Center has some guidelines." I say. "It does." Peter holds up two fingers. "Do your best to do good everyday. And do your best not to hurt anybody." "A crazed person could define good in sickening terms." I explain. Peter nods. "That they could. However, anyone who has made it this far, I'm not worried about. Now, shall we continue the tour?"

Peter

Tap, tap, tap. Our shoes echoing on the hard, linoleum floor. It feels like a dance floor in the middle of the sky. Olivia crouches down. She attempts to see through the ankle high clouds. " What are you doing?" I ask. "Trying to see." She responds. "Someone could step on you." "Nobody's here." She continues gazing through the clouds. "What are you doing, child?" A voice asks. "I already told you." Olivia says. "That wasn't me." I tell her. She looks up to see a man wearing a white suite. He has a grey beard and sits behind a massive, wooden desk. He shoots us a friendly smile. "Who are you?" I ask, walking up to him. The man stands up. "The name's Peter." "As in Saint Peter?" Olivia says with a sideways look of confusion. " I wouldn't call myself a Saint. That's like calling one self a genius. It's a bold statement." "What exactly is your business?" I ask. "Oh well, I have a book, see?" He points to a gigantic open book on his desk. The pages are yellowed with time. "Then when someone, such as yourselves come up to me, I skim my book to see if their names are in it." "This seems awfully familiar." Olivia says. "So you folks have been to this nutritional wellness bookshop before?" He asks. "What? This isn't heaven?" I say, confused. "Heaven? I suppose some folks could look at it that way. That is when you get your body and mind in the right place." "But, you're name is Peter." Olivia declares. "Huh? Oh yes, good name isn't it?" "It is, but it seems an odd coincidence that your name is Peter and you're outside a wellness bookshop. Much like Saint Peter outside the gates of heaven." I explain. " No coincidence. Those who have names, such as myself almost have biblical traits." "So, you're saying that if someone were named David he would kill a giant?" I say. "No, but he may gain a certain amount of power. Then he would fall, and he would fall hard." Olivia and I look at each other. "Fair enough." She says. "I think I know where you are going with this. I don't think our names show up anywhere in the bible. So we're just turn around." "Hold on. What are they?" He asks. "Olivia." "Scott." Peter rubs his beard. "Olivia, very pretty name. Means Olive branch. I don't think it shows up anywhere. Though I'm not certain. However, I'm almost positive there are no Scotts." We look down trodden and start to turn away. "I could still admit you for a small price." He tells us. Olivia and I search our pockets. We can't seem to find much money. I realize I still have the camera. I take it off my shoulder and hand it to him. " My goodness. I have not seen one of these in ages. Yes, this will do." Peter places the camera in a drawer. "Come, I will show you around."

In the Clouds

Up and up we travel. The sky beneath us is pure white. It feels as if we will ascend forever, until our pink bubble stops. It's like a balloon caught in a high ceiling. "Is this that glass ceiling I've been hearing about?" I ask. Olivia half grins. Our bubble rolls along the ceiling, but goes nowhere. Olivia grabs my hand. " I have an idea." She announces. I eagerly look up to her. " I'm going to deactivate the bubble. Then I'll let us fall a hundred feet before activating a new bubble. Hopefully we'll be able to get out of here." She looks to me. "You ready?" She asks. I gulp and nod. We count to three. She throws down the shield. We drop only a few feet before hitting a hard , linoleum floor in the middle of our puffy, white, cloud. I dust myself off. To quote Alice in Wonderland, "curiouser and curiouser."