Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) Read online

  She said ‘please’! Griswolt was uplifted at the thought as he stopped moving. He got up, and left for the living room. She’s going to come around.

  Later in the morning, Griswolt re-heated breakfast and brought it in to the bedroom. He set it next to Martha on a small table. He did not speak. He did not want to do anything that might interfere with what little appetite she may have. He gave her a sedative as well. After he set her meal up, he quietly left the room. Griswolt went back into the living room and laid down for a nap. He was drained by the morning’s events. As he was starting to relax, he suddenly panicked when he remembered that he had cried, and Martha had seen it. “She won’t remember,” he told himself. She can’t remember, she just can’t. No adult male cries! Never! What happened to me? Maybe I’m going crazy too. I’m beat. I don’t know how I’ll be able to do it, but I’ve got no choice. Sigh. What did she say? No hope? What was I hoping for?

  Jan is coming home tomorrow. Jan! Griswolt could not stomach thinking about it. He sighed. His breathing eventually slowed into a steady rhythm, and he fell into a semi-relaxed state.

  He got up about an hour later. He went into the bedroom, and saw that Martha had eaten some of the food he had left for her, and it looked like she was sleeping.

  “Are you going to eat any more?” he asked.

  No response. He wasn’t expecting any. Griswolt took the table away from beside the bed, and cleaned up. Then he went into the kitchen to make himself something to eat later for dinner, as he had no appetite for lunch. Afterwards, he went through a number of magazines, while listening to his favorite daytime shows on the radio.

  When dinnertime came, he brought a plate into the bedroom for Martha, and left it there for her. After finishing his meal in the living room, Griswolt spent the rest of the evening listening to the radio, and reading some more. Later, he gave Martha her pills before bed, and just like the night before, she took them without hesitation.

  Griswolt went to sleep early. Big day tomorrow. Jan — his thoughts drifted off into the night’s end.

  The following morning, Griswolt rose early and went outside to check the weather. He was standing on the small porch in front of his home’s entry. It was getting cooler, but a nice clear day was developing. Maybe I’ll take Martha outside for a while, he thought. Then he remembered that the manual said something about bed rest, peace and quiet.

  Still, I need her somewhat normal for when Jan gets here. They said he would be delivered in the early afternoon. He took a deep long breath and sighed, and caught himself looking up at the sky.

  Griswolt instinctively looked down, and then took a couple of sideways glances to see if any of the neighbors caught him looking up. No, he thought to himself. Good. He peered over at Hais and Salom’s place next door. Nothing to see there. Salom and Rebecca should be back home soon. He stayed outside for twenty minutes or so. A couple of contissdrawn taxis passed by. Griswolt thought to himself, it’s so nice outside. No crazy people, and that’s something I need right now. He saw a father and son walking their blog. I think this is something Martha needs too. After a while, Griswolt went back inside.

  Martha was in the shower. Great! Maybe she’s hungry. Griswolt went to the bathroom door, and opened it a bit, and asked, “Can I make you something to —”

  “Get out!” Martha screamed, as if he were a stranger.

  “Woah!” Griswolt blurted as he quickly shut the door. “What do I do now?” He was considering the options as he headed down the hallway. “I know, I’ll make some good old toast for her for.” Then he thought about it. She is skin and bone. She needs to eat something substantial. Maybe I’ll order some fresh splint blood. He thought about it some more. Griswolt found himself nodding his head in agreement with his internal conversation. “That’s what I’ll do. That should give her some stamina,” he said to himself. It had to be absolutely fresh, if it was to be consumed raw — which was the only proper way to prepare and drink it. He thought about it some more. Maybe I’ll get some for myself, too. I could probably use it. He went to the phone, called his secretary and asked her to arrange the delivery.

  Griswolt then went into the living room, and sat down to read more regulations. I need the office to drop off the weekly reports here, he thought to himself. Martha had left the bathroom and was in the bedroom now. Griswolt waited, and gave her time to get dressed. He put down the regulation changes he was reading, and went to the bedroom. Martha was lying on the bed.

  “Can I come in?” he asked at the door.

  Martha looked over at him, and then went back to staring at the ceiling.

  “I’ll take that as an OK,” Griswolt said. He gingerly entered the room. He eventually made his way over to opposite side of Martha, on the bed. He slowly sat down.

  Martha just kept staring deeply into the ceiling.

  “You know, it’s a beautiful day outside. What do you say I get you a little breakfast, and we go for a walk?” He smiled his most charming smile, waiting for her to hopefully say or do anything.

  Martha just blinked.

  What’s that mean? Griswolt asked himself. “I’ll bet it would make you feel more like your old self again, what do you say? Come on,” he coaxed, waiting and looking as if she was expected to respond.

  Martha turned her head and looked at him, with a questioning look on her face “More like myself? More like myself?” Then her puzzled look faded into an expression more resolute. “I have no self,” she said to Griswolt, looking straight at him. As their eyes were locked, she said, “There’s nothing here anymore, honestly. Nothing —” Then she looked away, settling her head in the pillow again.

  “Come on, Martha, let’s go for a walk. You know it will make you feel better. Let’s go!” Griswolt said with great fake enthusiasm.

  Martha sighed, and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired,” she said.

  Griswolt felt a surge of hope. She’s responding! She’s talking, so keep it going Griswolt. “You know that when you get your blood moving, you’ll feel better.”

  Martha opened her eyes. “I need to do something.” She paused, and stated, “I’ll go for a walk,” as if it were a new inspiration. She turned her head his way to look at him and said, “A short walk, I need —” She could not think of the words.

  Another big response! “Wonderful!” Griswolt exclaimed. “Do you want some toast first?”

  “Toast would be nice.” Martha replied.

  Griswolt felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. She’s acting normal! He said, “OK, I’ll get it for you, and you can get dressed.”

  “Don’t ever tell me what to do!” Martha barked, unexpectedly looking at him as if he was the enemy. She sat up.

  Griswolt’s heart fell for a second. “It’s OK — it’s OK. I’m not telling you what to do.” He was holding out both hands as if to say, “Slow down.” She settled, and he said, “I’m going now to make some toast, OK?”

  Martha was simply sitting there now, fiddling with a thread that had come loose from her underwear.

  Griswolt took a good look at her wounds. Her bathrobe was partially open. She looks better today. The bleeding looks like it’s stopped. The redness is less, he thought to himself.

  He was glad he had not taken her to the hospital. We don’t need no stinkin’ hospital, he thought.

  Griswolt came back with the buttered toast, and saw that Martha had not started to dress yet. Don’t say anything, he thought to himself. He pulled up the portable table, and set a plate with her toast on it, with a small glass of splint milk. “Here you go, Martha.” He smiled at her, and slowly left the room to wait in the living room.

  In about forty minutes, Martha came out of the bedroom, dressed for her walk. She looked in Griswolt’s direction, and with a sigh of resignation, said, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Griswolt was delighted. This is great! “OK, Martha, I’ll get a jacket for you.” He went to retrieve her purple early fall jacket. He came back, and gingerly helped her
to put it on. She’s acting more normally — I hope you’re ready for Jan, he thought. Jan would be arriving in about four hours, and Griswolt was sorely pressed to make things at home better than they were now. We’ll make it work.

  Once outside, they walked down the street to a well-developed small park. It was a simple place where people could gather, sit, and talk. There were benches scattered about, with a few sculptures of NOV and Aletian heroes located at the center of place.

  Randomly placed along the park’s perimeter were the rock gardens, particularly well done, using imported two and three-foot nuggets of a nice variety of attractive iron-free ores. Iron stains could rapidly age an outdoor place like this in no time. Some of the nuggets would be relatively crude — others were weathered, rounded, and some highly polished. The rock artist always kept the basic shape of each nugget unaltered. By expertly balancing and stacking them, the artist created works of art that would eventually collapse in time. Then, either the same artist, or another, would make another monument from the collapsed group. The true artist could both make a monument that would be imbalanced-looking, yet be poised well enough to stand the test of time.

  Griswolt and Martha had a seat on an unoccupied bench. They watched an older couple feeding breadcrumbs to some a few local stray blogs. Griswolt took a sideways look at Martha. Are her eyes softening? I think she’s starting to relax. He in turn relaxed a bit, and closed his eyes for a little. The wind was soft, and other than the occasional bus or someone riding a contiss on the street behind them, it was relatively quiet. The blogs made a cry for more food after the elderly couple ran out of crumbs. The blogs had their routine down. They knew the marks, so after a quick test, the blogs moved on to find some more productive visitors. Griswolt heard them coming his way, and slightly opened his eyes. He and Martha did nothing but ignore them, and the blogs continued on their day’s rounds.

  Well, I might as well test her out — this is why I got her out here. Griswolt thought. How should I say it? He took a breath. “You know Jan is coming home today?”

  Martha’s slow transition into relaxation was immediately aborted by her reaction to Griswolt’s words. Her relaxing eyes switched into a squinting, fierce look. Her face became ugly, very quickly. She coldly said, “When is it coming here? I need something I can hurt. This all its fault! I'll make it pay!”

  Griswolt’s stomach tightened. No! His posture shot up, in a direction leaning away from Martha. “Martha, what are you saying?” Griswolt asked. “You’re talking about our son. You remember Jan, don’t you?”

  “This is its entire fault,” Martha insisted to the air in front of her. “All its fault. All its —” and now she was screaming. She bent over on the bench, almost convulsing with her screams. The older couple was startled, and hurriedly got up to leave, glancing cautiously back at Martha and Griswolt.

  Griswolt was shocked and crestfallen. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, mostly to himself as he looked at Martha. No way could he touch her now.

  Her screams quieted down, and then Martha caught hold of herself. She looked at Griswolt and said, “This is its entire fault.” Then she looked off into the distance again. “I want to see it.”

  Griswolt was upset. “Stop calling Jan ‘it’, please! Please.”

  Martha continued to look away and said, “I want to see Jan,” not in a nice way.

  Griswolt’s visual reflex was drawn to a new group of visiting blogs. I think that’s all she can do for now, he thought to himself. I guess I have to be content with this. He sighed. I think I’ll drop the subject.

  They sat there for another half hour or so. When it appeared that Martha was starting to relax again, Griswolt figured it was time to head home. Martha didn’t seem much to care, and so they started walking back. As they were approaching their home, the delivery of fresh splint blood had just arrived up ahead.

  “Great! I forgot about this, but we’re just in time!” Griswolt exclaimed. “Hey, we’re over here,” he shouted from a distance, “Hold up!” He did not want them taking off without delivering, which they would readily do. They would not leave their delivery unless someone was there to sign for it, and they had other deliveries waiting. It would just spoil too quickly for them to leave out, even with ice. Griswolt paid them, and then he and Martha went into the house.

  They descended the stairs into the kitchen, and Martha stayed with Griswolt there. He mixed some salt, nako, and carefully added a fresh raw egg into each big glass of blood. It was nice to make it so cleanly that the egg yolk stayed intact, and could be swallowed whole. This was a traditional preparation, and one that Martha loved.

  She did finish most of it, and Griswolt had some more for himself. It’s expensive, but what the heck? She needs to get her strength back. He was very pleased to see her eat. Things are looking all right for now, he thought, but then remembered her reaction to Jan’s impending arrival. Worrisome to say the least, he thought.

  Griswolt asked Martha if she would like to go to the living room to listen to the radio. She passively agreed, and he went over with her. When she was settled, he went back to the kitchen to clean up.

  The phone rang in the living room, and Griswolt went to answer it. It was his secretary, Mari. Griswolt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Secretary General of the Central Committee of the NOV had sent his provincial liaison to Griswolt’s building. All those in administration were to report for duty. He had one hour to get to work. He slammed the phone down. “Of all the —”

  He had Martha’s attention. Anyone would have noticed.

  He looked at her. What the hell do I do now? Jan’s going to be here in a few hours and she isn’t close to ready.

  Martha was looking at Griswolt now, curious.

  Griswolt started pacing back and forth, and then into the kitchen. Think, Griswolt, think! He was greatly disturbed that he had to go in at all. This was just another surprise inspection, meant to keep the intimidation fresh. His office was in order. He imagined meeting the pretentious liaison officer.

  That’s it! Griswolt stopped pacing. He went back to Martha. He came into the room rather abruptly, which startled her. He realized his mistake, and stopped. Then he slowly walked in front of her, keeping his distance. “Martha, dear. Can you do something for me?”

  Martha had been perking up since the walk and the blood confection. She looked at him rather lucidly, and said, “What?” but still with little emotion and much detachment.

  “Can you call me at work after I call you from there later?” Griswolt asked.

  “What?” Martha asked.

  Griswolt thought a second, and said. “I have to go to work, but I want to stay with you instead. I am going to call you from work in about an hour, OK?”

  She sat there a moment, like, well, nothing. Empty. “OK,” Martha said.

  “After I call you from work, I want you to call right back to my secretary Mari, and tell her that you started bleeding, and you need me at home,” Griswolt explained. He looked at her. “Do you understand? I call you, then you call me, OK?”

  “OK,” Martha replied.

  He looked at her, “Do you really promise you will?”

  She raised her tone, “I said I would!”

  Griswolt thought to himself, I have no choice. I have to go to work. Once I meet with the liaison, I really don’t need to stick around anymore. An emergency will make my exit more valid.

  Griswolt gave Martha her pills in the living room, and he went to change into his uniform. He then said goodbye, gave one more reminder, and left for work. He had a plan. What he had not planned on was Martha’s pocketing of her pills today.

  Chapter Six

  Mama's Not Feeling Herself

  A

  n hour passed. Griswolt called, and Martha did indeed answer the phone.

  “Hello?” asked Martha, as she put the phone to her ear.

  “Martha! Thanks for picking up the phone. Listen, I can’t talk long. The liaison hasn’t ar
rived here yet, so I really have to wait. Has anyone called about Jan?”

  “Jan!” Martha spat, sounding like a different person.

  Griswolt’s stomach grinded at the sudden turn of her voice. Change the subject! “Listen, Martha, don’t call me back now, OK?” he said. “You want me to call you?” Martha asked.

  “No, not yet. I’m not done here yet. I’ll call you again, and then you call me, OK?”

  “OK.” Click.

  Martha went back to sitting in the living room. She had turned the radio on, and was dully listening to the Temple of the NOV’s daily program. Truth told — she was not really listening. She was still just sitting and enjoying the peace of having nobody around. “I’m starting to feel —” she started to say it, but did not know how to finish the sentence.

  She searched for the right word. Safe? No. Peace? Maybe. Good? No. Better? Maybe. Not so scared? Yes. I’m beginning to feel not so scared. She took a deep slightly shuddering breath at that last thought. Then Martha took another yawning breath, less tense. Not a sigh. A good deep, cleansing breath. Not so scared. With the long extended exhalation came a feeling in her gut of a knot untying. Every time she found the right word or two to describe her deepest negativity, the knot untied some more. She took another breath. This feels good. She was smiling slightly, still with hurting eyes. Do I really feel better now? I guess I do, a little. Then with her eyes looking off, resentfully thought, I swore I’d never feel good again. I don’t want to feel good.

  Martha’s eyes narrowed, this is all its fault. It shouldn’t have come here. It ruined me forever. I can’t get even if I allow myself to feel good. I’ll never forget what it did to me. Her face fell to a look of misery. What they did to me. What animal is that cruel? The NOV is right. The ela is holy because it kills so quickly. She stared off in a different direction now.

  Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

  The sound at the front door startled her into present consciousness. Who’s here now? “Griswolt?” she shouted up the stairs.