The Mechanics of Us

Chapter 29

Thankfully the old observatory wasn't completely encased in foliage; at the least, there were workable doors that, with some effort, opened up to the inside. The mechanic and I still struggled a bit trying to pry open the rusted and stiff doors, but with some elbow grease, we were able to get it to budge just enough so that we can squeak through if we suck in and side shuffle.

This time I go in first, and when I enter the stale smell of mildew, old books, soiled metal, and oil-stained carpet overwhelms my senses, and I cover my nose with the back of my hand. When the mechanic enters, she doesn't do the same, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Can't you smell everything so intensely?"

The mechanic shrugs, "Honestly, after the accident, for some reason, I can't smell at all," she shrugs, and a devilish smirk crosses her face.

"Guess whoever rewired me made a mistake. It happens" she strolls past me, her hand lingering behind her, and without any hesitation, I eagerly take it. Instant comfort spreads throughout my body when our fingers weave themselves together, and her thumb rubs the top of my hand.

"So how did you find this place?" there is a faint echo when I speak, and it fades as it ripples outward to the vast open space. Around us, the dingy walls have various splatters of grimy residue that seeps and makes it appear as if the walls are crying brown sludge. The ceilings are tall as well and are lined with skylights that form a dome that lets the moon's pale beams in and gives an ivory gleam to the observatory. Some of the windows are broken though, shattered at the corners, or completely vacant from the frame they once were held. There are also shelves of books that decorate the back wall that is across from the entrance. I sprint up to them and daintily run my fingers across the spines. They seem peaceful on the shelf undisturbed by humans for decades, a thick layer of dust has made itself comfortable on the tops of the exposed pages that resemble grey sand.

Whistle. I whip my head to the side and see the mechanic leaning her shoulder up against the bookshelf.

"I found this place after some extensive research. Also known as I got lost one day and found it"

I let out a faint chuckle; my mind still pondering the various works of literature that are present before me. My fingers linger on the spines until they pause when they get to a book that is different from the rest. I hook the book's spine flap with my pointer finger and draw it from the shelf. It's covered in dust, so I blow on the cover to reveal the title. To my surprise, there wasn't one. I flip the book over and then realize it is a leather-bound journal and not a book.

"Babe," I wave her over, and then my hand meets her jacket. I tug on it to have her come closer.

"When was this observatory built?"

"Uh, I don't know?"

"Pamphlet, please."

The mechanic rustles some papers in her pockets before bringing out the crumpled pamphlet. I gingerly take it from her and flip through the pages scanning for numbers.

"It was established in 2090..."

"The laws were created a year later, correct?"

"Correct."

I toss the pamphlet aside then fumble with the journal trying to open it without tearing any of the fragile pages. When I manage to flip open the cover, I notice the binding is torn, and the distinctive thickness that is associated with layers of ink can easily be observed. There is an inscription inside the cover, and it reads Property of "Lacey McDonough, 2089."

"The journal must be a diary from the founder. Wonder why it's out in the open, though?"

"Hide things in plain sight, and if someone stumbles upon it, it is meant for their specific eyes," the mechanic states; I consider her words.