Gospel V, "Walking down the path".

Steven’s question was answered on the last period: It was Misa Fukado who he met at the first day at work, even though he can’t recall much of it.
Apparently she took the program voluntairly, which gave strange look among her girlfriends.

Fukado was working like all others her age in multiple professions, ranging from waitress to refiner. The salary fluctuated, since the company, “Melman’s Workers” who hired her for the works paid accordingly to demand and quantity in workers asked at the time.

Flexicurity decided when one client didn’t require the hired employer’s services anymore, he simply fired it and Melman’s replaced that work for Fukado to do something different.

Fukado wanted to increase her merits, anyone could take one, five or ten different professions and finish it these days, but participating in other activities gave more in the society’s eyes and increased the possibility for high-performance professions. They usually gave more in salary and were supplied to "good" workers in reliable families.

Fukado had followed Steven to Baio-Building, she continued talking talking to him when he had decided to stop ignore the psychologist’s barrage of messages over this week. Pearson was seemed eager to meet him, too eager for someone not from this area.

Steven thought he had calmed down and got rid of the illusions from his head when he walked on the bridge with Fukado, linking Baio with the Delta-building when he saw it.

A ludicrous large man with horns and a primitive weapon flying in the air. Fukado didn’t seem to notice it even if it saw them right in the eyes before plunging down. Less that something was chained to the horned-creature. A woman. Steven was thinking that was he was breaking down, first the job and then a ghost, and now this?

“Is something the matter, mister Dawson? You have been silent since we walked off the train. Is it about that trial with prosecutor Meika, I think you shouldn’t worry.”, Fukado said, reassuring.
They continued to walk and reached Delta, a wealthy building when it came to service in comparison with Baio.

Walking to the penthouse, there was nothing there, except for a small office-like building and parts of the roof destroyed. The office was green and without any windows, a sign beside the door said: “This way! Only appointed sessions.”

“Is this why you wanted to go to the roof?”, Fukado asked.
“According to the psychologist… this is the location.”, Steven said.
He felt on the door, no response. This was illogic, being persistent to meet him and then not answer. Possibly a sick joke from a stranger who enjoyed playing pranks on strangers.

Steven turned around and walked towards his apartment with haste. Fukado coped with difficulty to match Stevens increasing walking-speed.
“Wait…! Can’t we… please go to my place? It isn’t too far, only two floors down.”, Fukado said.
“The appointment is off, I have no reason to stay here any longer.”, Steven replied.
Fukado grasped his hand with her hands.
“Please, do it for me. You don’t have to stay long, I promise. Just have a peek.“, Fukado said.
She looked up at Steven.

*          *          *
It doesn’t comprehend, first bothering walzting into our apartment looking for me, and then the messages and an empty office. It doesn’t make sense no matter how you look upon it. No one wastes their time doing that kind of effort for no reason. This city may have all genres displayed in varition on citizens, and yet Steven haven’t seen one doing this, and having an office on a penthouse? This person was insane, or closer then he was… Going back home for now would only resulted in more dicussion, he could take it. But seeing the thing pattering around, believing it was invisible…. The other option, spending more time with this clingy child wasn’t much better.

“… Short visit.”, Steven said.
Fukado smiled and showed the way to her apartment at the Delta-building.
The door was metallic red with numbers 1-2-0-1 over it.
She touched the door and a melody activated, as the door opened a song played.

The interior was larger and displayed more wealth then Steven’s appartment along wih a personal touch. The chairs were cylindrical and white in colour. Atleast three bedrooms. Desks and tables were black. Sofas went in blue. Pictures of family and friends were displayed at the bookshelf, along with discs containing various information.The rest of the interior went on in a similar way.

Steven sat down in a couch. He practically sled into it due the softness.
Judging by the apartment’s appearance, few lived here considering that dust wasn’t visible.
“Do you want something to drink, mister Dawson? Tea, herbal juices, or something else?”
Steven thought for a moment before answering:
“Applebeer, heated.”
Fukado nodded and headed to the kitchen.

There was something about this girl, that optimism hers… it felt familiar. Steven didn’t like it. Having that kind characteristic was meant to be broken sooner or later. He recalled where the feeling came from; his girlfriend was like that before they moved in. It was only a facade, Steven thought. When she realised that they weren’t going to make it, it vanished, just like her.
It didn’t surprise Steven in case student Fukado was planning the same, they are always like that.

Fukado came back with a tray. Two brown cups with spoons. It seemed she had taken of the hairpins holding up her hair. Fukado’s green hair wasn’t as long as she made it out to be with the usual pigtails.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the applebeer, mister Dawson, sir. But I hope this works instead.”
Fukado put down the tray on the table. She seated her in the sofa opposite of Steven. They sipped their cups.
It was obvious she wasn’t used to many visitors, peachvodka wasn’t meant to be drunk. Especially the new low-calorie blend, unless you didn’t appreciate your tongue.
Fukado looked up with uncertainty while they drank.
“Ehm, I was wondering…”
“Do you live here by yourself, Fukado?”, Steven said.
She looked down in her cup.
“Y-yes you can say that, mister Dawson. My parents moved away, but I wanted to stay.“
Steven looked closely on Fukado.
“Why didn’t you follow?”
Fukado looked down.
“It, it didn’t feel right to leave this place… I was born, and have grown up here, sir. My friends live here too, it wouldn’t be the same using communications, sir.”
“Your age?”
Fukado looked up with a puzzeled look.
“At what age were you when they moved away?”
Fukado’s chins turned red. “T-ten years old, sir.”
“They left an underaged girl to live by herself? Society wouldn’t allow it.”
“Actually, they did. But I was overlooked, sir... Funds were sent for my needs. People would look after me time to time when I wasn’t at the cott, sir.”, Fukado said.

Steven have heard of the “cott” when he was younger. It was a kindergarten for people between two and thirteen. Since society didn’t have any use for minors, this was the best option when those under forteen (the come of age in this province) couldn’t be put to work.
He never have been near one, since it was established a few years after he came of age himself.

“And now?”, Steven asked.
He whipped around the spoon in hopes of it to loose some of the taste. Fukado looked around in the room before answering.
“W-when I came of age, sir. I decided I wanted to-to…”
“… Focus, Fukado.”
Fukado breathed in air.
“I’m sorry, mister Dawson….” Fukado looked down. “One day I told my parents I wanted to show I could take care of myself, sir!”

By the looks of it, she proved it. But it was perplexing how Fukado could do it with that insecurity of hers. From what he have seen, student Fukado was more determined during class around her friends. Could it be a part of her curtain? To fool him, repeat history?, Steven thought.

“Your use of the Evanza, programs? ”, Steven said.
“M-me, sir? I only use it when Melman’s ask me too… But I use it sometimes else too, mostly with my friends.”, Fukado said. She finished drinking her coup. “Mandy is the one to suggest when we are to use it on parties. Everyone does, if you didn’t, you couldn’t come back now with the new dances customized. I-I try not to use it too much after what you told about it does.”
“Your choice, your life. Danger arises when amateurs are tinkering, so does the thrill.”, Steven said. “To learn from the basics makes it better when it is achieved, for my part.”
Fukado nodded.
After one hour or two, Steven left the apartment after dicussing.
“You are welcome back when ever you want mister Dawson, this place won’t be crowded…”, Fukado said when the door closed.

Meeting students like this wasn’t part of the record, though it allowed him to spend less time in the same apartment as the thing, Steven thought.
“It would be best to avoid this in the future.”, he told himself.

*          *          *
Sarah woke up early the next morning rested and spirited, white sheets and breakfast on the table…
She quickly sat up and looked around alerted. This wasn’t part of her home, the only thing she slept with was a blanket! And where did that delicious breakfast come from?
“Please make this a wonderful, please make this a wonderful dream!”, Sarah kept tellling herself.

The room was filled with plants arranged to encircle each bed, a set of white sheets in every bed and a large tray standing beside. Every patient had a tape wrapped around an arm for diagnosis to display current temperature, liquid-halt, PH-level, heart-frequency and much more that wasn’t readable by the wearer. People in white coats and badges pinned on them went across the room checking up patients in beds.
Sarah felt a chill coming. She waved at a whitecoat to come.

“Hi…I wonder, do you know where I am? I can recall very little from yesterday and…”, Sarah, said.
“Queensburrow Healing Unit. Let’s see.”, the man said. He grabbed hold of Sarah’s arm. He opened his pocket and produced a spectacle:
“Ah, you came in after we recieved an alarm on the streets near Baio. You were reported to have been found near a crater in the street in a mess. Strange enough, nobody seems to recall how you ended up there or your name.”
(Teehee! If you only knew, none-believing mundane. Why no one can see is but that is your fault… Wait a minute! QHU, the expensive hospital?!)
Sarah felt the chill in her back turned into a chunk of ice.
The male nurse went to a different patient in need.

Of all everything to happen, first the target who didn’t show up during the week, then beefboy and now this?!
Most hospitals allowed the patient to pay later, but this was a different one.
The treatment was first-class, and a cost at the same level. They have a reputation of fixing anything on the patient that isn’t as it is suppose to be.
Society's standards. Sarah wiped her head.
“I’m glad that I haven’t something like a lost limb or anything like that to worry about.”, Sarah said. She laughed and scratched her right arm.
It touched nothing, only thin air where the arm is suppose to be. There was a note stitched over the right arm, or atleast where it should be.
“Hey, why have I a cute tag on my shirt….”, Sarah said when she realised what was on it:

Patient number 12546248-E
Name: Undetermined, fifty possible matches currently available.
Operations:
Bloodloss- 15,000 credits
Broken bones, ankles and ribs- 75,000 credits
Skull re-adjustments- 125,000 credits

Operations on hold: Genetic treatment, re-growing right arm
- 501,000 credits.

Forget that chunk, bring more ice. Why not an iceberg in the process!
She had to find a way out of this, nothing is worth that bill. This was almost like hiring a mid-class apartment without the bath for one week. Thoughts went through her head, not accepting this bill meant trouble later on, accepting it meant trouble now.
Sarah made up her mind; A silent exit is the best option…

*          *          *

There were no discussion when he came home after spending time at student Fukado’s apartment, it felt bizzare for some reason.

Martha asked where he had been. Steven wasn’t the one to spend too much time being somewhere else after work, they both knew it.
Steven said he was invited to one of his associated’s apartment across the building. His mother did little asking about who it was.

The next morning at Dawson’s apartment was calm, too calm.
All four sat for the first time eating breakfast without saying anything. Steven was staring in his bowl, he felt how the thing was watching him with uncertainty behind the cereal boxes, curled up at Martha’s lap gaulping the paste.

The thing was going to do something, he have felt it since yesterday night but what? Like a cat waiting for an opportunity to strike the unknowing mouse, but this rodent was aware...
Steven finished his breakfast and went outside.

The first periods were cancelled due to a malfunction, something that didn’t happen too often. Hopefully the salary wasn’t going to be cut down because of that. Wind blew on the roof, soft ones with sun blazing. People were boarding the trains.

Steven watched over the reeling, over the city. Thoughts ran around.
Someone grasped him and was nearly dragging him down.
“Heh, heh, you are not getting away again… mister Dawson.”
Steven turned around, it was a woman with blonde hair in unusual clothes. It struck him it was hospital-clothes for patients.
The woman was panting, judging by the face-color and appearent exhaustion she had made a marathon and failed miserably. What made her different, except for the outfit, was that she had only one arm. A left.

“I can’t recall I know you.”, Steven said. His voice lacked any sympathy for the woman when she took a grip on the reeling.
“Pe-Pearson… Sarah… Pearson. You know.”, The woman coughed, “The psychologist, I have tried to... contact you.”
Sarah took a deep breath and continued:

“I heard that you might need help with something.”
Steven’s eyes turned slim.
“What makes you believe that? Your kind thrives on creating problems, not solutions!”, Steven said. He was about to turn around when Sarah grabbed him, the grip was tight.
“Listen, everyone needs someone to talk to without getting judged. Holding everything in isn’t going to solve anything, it just fills like the big red ballon and… pop!”, Sarah said.
She demonstrated with her fingers.
“Teehee, my prices are aa-allways negotiable. I can assure that no one can beat my price, nope, nobody! Just come now to my office so we can begin the first step, come on mister Dawson please! It’s for free.”

Steven avoided looking on the psychologist, she was sitting down on knees pleading, could someone be that desperate? A psychologist begging for customers... not possible. This Pearson must be from the rehab, others would call her behavior “stalking”, the clothes reinforced it. How could his mother have allowed a lunatic into the house? It didn’t matter if anything had happened to the thing, but Martha?

*          *          *
(What is it with him?! I’m begging for a target! She was crying on the inside. Does he suspect something? Could it possibly be that he saw her yesterday fighting beefboy… nah, he is just suspicios. Typical of mundanes.)
Sarah looked down and scratched her chin.
“Buu-ut if you don’t want to, please atleast do it for someone else… someone dear to you?”, Sarah said.

Steven looked back. Someone he held off? There wasn’t anybody, why would he? It only followed by sadness, which was something he wouldn’t allow himself to do. Of everything this, this woman asked, was low, far below his belt. He could aswell go back and prepare to head for the center.

But what about the thing? You don’t like it, it doesn’t like you either.
Somehow Steven felt was owing something to his parents, afterall they share the same apartment since the accident. He alone was responsible for that mistake… but his girlfriend is to blame.

*          *          *
“Teehee, welcome to my home, mister Dawson! Do you like it? I rearranged it myself. Just mind watching the low ceiling”, Sarah said.

They shook hands, Steven was hesitant when Sarah grabbed his hand pressing it. He pulled his hand back shortly there after, it felt like a sting. That woman have sharp nails… Steven thought.

If he didn’t know better, this was definitly a deranged person’s definition of a home, no interior. The office looked big on the outside, but the inside was completly different. How can something look so large, turn into a small….? Steven had to think for a few seconds before he found a fitting word: Cardboard-box-style a la Freud on the house!

Sarah lit the candles resting on the table-cloth, she adjusted it and dug up a notebook from under the table.
“Shall we start then, mister Dawson?”
(And after that sign your doom, mundane? Teehee.)
“You call yourself a psychologist using a crayon for writing?”, Steven said.
“I haven’t had many patients lately, never mind that… Let’s begin with the first question:
How do you feel?”, Sarah said.
“Your merits are to be doubted, noneless your choice of outfit. Where did you learn this profession, Pearson was it? ” Steven looked around in the room. “Candles are not part being a psychologist from my experience.”
Sarah scratched her head.
“Geeze... What are you thinking of me mister Dawson, I only offer to help you. And yet you are the one asking the questions.”, Sarah jotted down something  in the notebook, ”Next question: How are your relation to your family, parents, grandparents, siblings? Your babysister for example, I met her.”

It became awkwardly silent in the room. They looked at each other. Steven answered one at the time:
“… Good, fine. Dead. I don’t have any babysister, the only sibling I have had is dead.”
“But I saw her…”
“She’s been dead for years.”, Steven said. His tone was resolute and missing any emotions.
“She looked pretty alive to me, and smiling on top of that.”, Sarah said.
Steven held onto the table bent forward to Sarah, between the candles.
“Never mention the “thing” in the same vein as the dead, psychologist.”, Steven said.
“Teehee, calm down, calm down, mister Dawson. Call anything whatever you want, as long as you are honest about it.”, Sarah said.
She made Steven sit on his side again, jotted down a couple other notes and looked him again.
(What is with this boy? He’s like a clam, it doesn’t make it easier for me. Looks like I have to retort "that" after all…)

Sarah told Steven she wanted to test something new in psychology. She showed him how to put his hands on the table, close to the candles. Steven was sceptical. Sarah encouraged him to do this for his personal progress.
“Teehee, don’t think bad of me…”, Sarah said.
Sarah put her hand over his and leaned back her head. Smack!

*          *          *

It felt like lightning struck him. What was that fake thinking!?
Steven’s head was a mess. He covered it as his eyes blurred everything down.
Going here was a wasted effort, I told you so Stevie!
Now a crack-pot shrink have hurt you… Suggestions how to remedy this, doc?
Hmm, let’s see… I suggest painkillers, the violent kind. Prescription is sent instantly, how’s that?
Fine, just fine. That’s how service is suppose to be! Transform and roll-out, soldier! That’s an order!

Steven shook his head to clear the thoughts. Objects became visible; a dusty road, trees and houses. A salty feeling in the air.
The place felt familiar, and yet not. Each house was wodden, painted with red. White fences encircled them. Bridges going out in the water. Laughter. People walking around. Some were fishing on the bridges, or sailing in boats.

Steven walked down the road. This wasn’t where he should be, what happened was what  struck him. He walked some more and passed a building. It was a general store, “Rover’s” the sign said. Steven felt drawn to walk in but refused. He still didn’t know where he was!
Steven turned around and felt something passing through him. A child ran and opened the door and closed. Steven was perplexed, but shrugged it off.

Steven walked around to find out where and how he came here. Realising that after half an hour no one had noticed him, it felt bizarre. Everyone here looked friendly and greeted eachother as they met. But not him, that people had passed through him several times made things worse. Steven started to wonder if he was dead. The psychologist had probably got rid of him in that small office, no doubt. She leant back and did somehting, shot him or worse. What to expect from those lunatics? It was a wonder they haven’t "fully" rehabilitated her, that was common these days.

Walking around made him realise why he recognised this place, he have been here before. But when is beyond him. It had to be a long time ago. Archipelagoes like these are uncommon today. Steven found a place to sit at, a rock close to the lake. He sat there gazing for a full five minutes.

“Teehee, having fun in the past mister Dawson? You sure look like a lost rat in a cage, save for the comfort you have.”, Sarah said.
The voice came from behind, he didn’t move. Slowly he looked around. Nobody there. Something poked him.
“I believe a rodent reacts faster, mister Dawson. You should answer when someone asks you a question. Common politeness I have heard.”
This wasn’t what he expected, the psychologist was standing on water. No rocks under the surface. She twirled around the water, taking small steps.
“Teehee! You seem not to appreciate what I did, mister Dawson...”, Sarah said.
Her face curled up with a gesture saying: “Now look what you have done, I ate something bitter!”
“What is this pla…"
Steven wasn’t able to finish before Sarah brought him up on the “scene”.
“Teehee, haven’t you noticed already?”, Sarah said.
She was leading the dance on the water, a waltz.
Steven tried to get loose, but to no avail. The psychologist held him like a clamp, he was forced to follow on.
“…This isn’t reality. Evanza?”
“Teehee,  you can say that.”, Sarah said.  “No hard feelings right? You weren’t the talkative person I would imagine.” Sarah stood on her toes and whispered it in his ear.

*          *          *
(Mundanes are so simple to trick! Go on and express your feelings in this past of yours. I’m standing here to catch it, baby. Mama’s going to shop ‘til she drop very soon…)

It felt like an eternity until they returned to solid ground, how was the woman able to hold him so strong? Steven could remember the summers with grandfather. For a relic, he had a siimilar grip. The difference was that he showed less emotions. This… person was different. It was like she showed too much, suffocating in comparison with Jim.

"You should walk around a bit more, it will make things clearer. You deal with it better that way, mister Dawson...", Sarah said.
"See you later!"