“I see,” said Davis, not feeling at all like she understood. “Well, I think I’m going to try to turn in, try and get some sleep. Goodnight, Quinn.”
“Goodnight, sleep well.”
As Davis walked to the door, she paused suddenly and turned around, a look of worry and anxiety written on her face. “Oh, Quinn. I’m not sure if I’ll be down for breakfast tomorrow. Please don’t tell everyone about our conversation. Or that you saw me. I’m just not ready to feel um, well, exposed for lack of a better word.”
“Sure thing, no problem,” said Quinn with a smile that let Davis knew that she meant it.
“Great, thank you then. And goodnight.”
With that, Davis walked out the door and down to her room. As she lay down on her bed, she tried to clear her mind of everything else and focus on something she genuinely wanted to think about. Her mind floated. It landed on Brookshire. Hmmm, she thought. Quinn was right; it was easy if you had the right thing to think about, the right thought could make your soul soar instead of plunge.
September 1, 2056 –
Cilantro and More Answers
When Davis awoke, she felt like she had the first good night’s sleep she’d had in a long time. No nightmares or screaming boys. No darkness. No confusion. She quickly realized that wasn’t entirely true. There was still the complete bewilderment. It felt nice, though, to have the fog lift, for even the half-second it had done so after she awoke. Davis had been in the web between the dream and the waking world for a few precious seconds when everything seemed okay and before reality caught up.
Davis was trying to decide if she would go and eat breakfast with everybody else. She felt a little more comfortable with Quinn and thought perhaps these people knew a bit about what they were saying. Even though she didn’t feel like she trusted them completely, she had to admit there was some compelling evidence. It was difficult to imagine that all these papers, signatures, and watermarks were forgeries, especially when some were so specific.
Davis looked at the clock and saw it was only a little after 5 a.m. She didn’t think they would have breakfast this early, and she wasn’t all that hungry. If anything, her stomach felt a little upset, queasy. She decided she would take a shower first, then figure out breakfast. One thing she had undoubtedly become accustomed to very quickly was the warm, untimed showers. The several pleasant-smelling soaps and shampoos available, and afterward, wrapping herself in a comfy towel that wasn’t brown and too little and scratchy like the ones in the Pods was a welcome change also. These were big and soft and a lovely sage green color.
After her shower, Davis decided she would go back to her room, look over the paperwork again, and then meet the group for breakfast. She intended to scour over the paperwork, line by line, to find any inconsistencies, anything that could be a lie or forgery. She looked and looked, every page three times over, almost in a frenzy toward the end of her search. Nothing seemed out of place; it was as it should be. Every i dotted and every t crossed.
When Davis walked into the breakfast room, she could tell that everyone was sort of surprised to see her. Luckily, they all quickly looked down, although Audrey had to give Oliver a soft slap on his little hand for him to look away from Davis. Even Buster was there and had the decency to turn toward his food bowl when Davis sat down.
“So, what are we having?” asked Ringo in a matter-of-fact way, making Davis think he knew what they were eating and had only asked to break the tension a little bit.
“Eggs and oatmeal, and some nice strawberries from the garden,” replied Quinn.
“So,” Davis replied, looking at Ringo, “Sorry that I walked out the other night. It was all overwhelming.”
“Not a problem at all…not at all!” Ringo said. Even Audrey looked up and gave Davis a friendly smile and added,
“We know. Nobody expects you to feel completely comfortable right away, although, of course, we wish we could bring you that comfort. We all know it isn’t that easy, though.”
“Thank you,” Davis felt choked with emotion as she said it. She didn’t know where this emotion was coming from, but it burned hot in her throat as she tried to keep the tears from falling. Brookshire, who sat next to her, put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a warm half hug. That did it—no more stopping the tears. They spilled out, right in front of everybody. Embarrassed, she got up to leave. Brookshire lightly tugged on her hand and indicated with a nod of his head that she should sit back down. Brookshire spoke directly to her, looking into her eyes.
“It’s okay, Davis. We all understand. We’ve all had some ups and downs here. Nobody is going to judge you for feeling sad or questioning things.” He then handed her his napkin, but he pulled his hand back at the last minute so that she couldn’t take it. Instead, he reached up and dried her tears for her. It helped her feel a little more at peace, although
