The Movement

Chapter Five - Part 4

“Attention Barber Hall residents!” announced an invisible voice from seemingly nowhere. “Please report to the seventy-eighth floor dining area immediately. Salads and appetizers will be served in ten minutes.”

Troy stood up and began walking out the doorway, then stopped. He turned around to lock his door. There was no lock, just a small clear circle near eye level. The door made a small ‘beep’ and released open with only a slight sound. Perplexed, he took a step back away from the door, then another side step towards the large window where the crows had flown by just hours before. The door shut calmly with a nearly silent push of air escaping from the door’s cracks.

Huh, thought Troy. Now that’s cool. Elijah did not show me the lock on this thing!

Making his way into the enormous dining area, Troy saw the thousands of other residents of Barber Hall entering the three-tiered dining room. In the center of all three levels pillared a large opening with a small platform at the bottom level. Troy entered the room on the second floor; above him was the third level and below him laid the bottom level and the circular platform. Each level was gated around the center orifice. The residents crowded around the gate, looking down towards the empty platform, heads peering down over the railings in excitement.

President Barber appeared from the air in the center. The residents began clapping joyously, cheering and whistling and waiving their arms over the edifice separating them from the fall.

“Thank you, thank you,” thundered President Barber’s voice, echoing throughout the dining area, dominating and overtaking the arena-like atmosphere in a brief moment. “I welcome you all and your families to Barber Hall on this fine evening. It is a pleasure to host you here and it is a privilege for you to have been chosen to reside and dine in this luxurious suite. You and your family members will lead The Movement to victory! Let’s eat!”

At that, the residents burst into more cheers for another short minute while the crowded gates opened up and the awaiting people hustled to the tables to sit, gradually transforming the cheers into neighborly chatter amongst families and peers as the residents took their seats.

An usher took Troy’s arm and led him to a table.

“Are you sitting by your lonesome?” asked the usher.

“Yes, I am,” responded Troy embarrassingly.

“That is no problem, there are many important figures here, men and women, whom are also by their lonesome. We have arranged for you to sit amongst them, so you may socialize and become acquaintances,” explained the usher, politely.

“Thank you, sir,” replied Troy. “I appreciate that.”

“It is The Movement’s pleasure,” he replied with a genuine smile as he ushered Troy lightly to his table.

Troy sat down as the usher pulled his chair out from the table for him. Sitting down and placing the napkin in his lap, Troy reached for his ice water and took a small sip.

“Hello there,” said the woman sitting to his left.

Troy looked over at her as he swallowed the icy water and cleared his throat.

“Ahem,” he gurgled. “Hello there. And what might your name be?”

“You look awfully young not to have a family to sit with,” she quipped. “My name is Sarah Kennedy. And you must be?”

“Troy,” he filled in. “My name is Troy Duckworth, and it’s an honor to meet you...uh...Sarah,” he remembered her name after a brief pause.