The Belly of Bygone Days

You're a Hero

Day 65

The common room looked a little different today. The entire stretch of the eastern wall was bare except for a tall, white ladder. The long arts table had been removed. Gone was the cabinet that housed nothing but a few, boring card games that no-one ever played. Gone was the row of rickety chairs that ran along the southern part of the wall. The floor in that area had been covered by an array of plastic sheets and dotted with tins of of various coloured paint.

"What's all this about, Ollie?" Doris asked, approaching her brother. As usual, he was sitting in his favourite chair reading a book.

Oliver raised his head and glanced to where Doris was gesturing. "Ah, that's Elias' new hobby! He's going to paint a mural. He should be here soon."

The last comment was unnecessary, of course. The routine here hardly ever changed. Sure enough, like clockwork, Elias stepped into the common room, flanked by two scientists.

"I think I'm finally getting better," Doris told Oliver, lowering her voice. She knew she only had a few precious minutes to talk to him before he was called away. She intended to make the most of the time they had together. "At the training, I mean. Last time, I managed to get more sweets—more rewards—than..." she hesitated. She hadn't told him about the electric shocks she'd begun receiving for failing her training exercises. It wasn't that they were particularly severe or anything. Merely small jolts, like static, but she found the process humiliating. "... than not," she finished lamely.

Why tell him? It would only make him worry, and she didn't want to make him worry. He seemed to be thriving here, in this environment, with training of his own to complete. Why tell him and risk putting a dampener on his happiness? It wasn't even that bad, anyway. She was just being silly.

"I'm glad for you, Doris. I really am." He smiled at her and put his book down on the chair next to him. "Just remember not to be too hard on yourself. All they expect from you is for you to do your best. The tasks are supposed to be challenging. Their trying to push you out of your comfort zone and extend your abilities. It's ok if you don't succeed straight away. 'Failure, when looked at in the right light, is simply another opportunity for improvement.' I read that in a book, you know."

"Subject E001. Subject E001 please report for training."

Oliver stood up and ruffled Doris' hair. "Keep your eye on the goal. You've got this, little sis. I believe in you."

Doris grinned up at him, glad she'd kept the bit about the shocks to herself.

After he'd left, she looked around the common room, wondering what she ought to do while waiting for Yakov to be brought back from his training session. There was Elias, working on the first coat of his mural, standing near the top of the ladder brushing strokes of dark blue across the huge, blank canvas. She thought it best not to disturb him. That left only Hans who was sitting at a table on the other side of the room, knitting something out of green wool.

"What are you making, Hans?" she asked, coming to sit next to him.

"A scarf," he said shyly, holding up his work for Doris' consideration. "I'm making it for, well..." he sniffed and rubbed a finger across his nose. "For someone special. Do you think green's her colour? Maybe I should have used blue instead."

"I'm not sure who you're talking about, sorry," Doris confessed.

Han's ears turned an alarming shade of red. He dropped his eyes and lowered his voice to a mumble. "I'm talking about the counsellor. Helga."

He sneezed.

"S-sorry," he apologized, rubbing his nose again. "I think I'm coming down with something. Probably just a cold. Elias is sick too, you know," he added, lowering his voice and glancing up at the painter on his perch. "I overheard some of the scientists talking about him. Apparently he vomited in the middle of his training session yesterday."