The Riddle of the Room

Day 2

Roger sat back in frustration. He had had what he supposed was an eventful morning.

He had woken up ravenous, only to discover a small tray with three paper bags near the door, labeled breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He ate the breakfast, thankful that at least the old woman had some since of humanity that reminded her to let him eat.

Then he realized there was a door.

He had cursed himself for not realizing it before, and was thrilled beyond belief that it opened, until he realized that it was only the door to the bathroom. He was annoyed, but relieved at the same time, as he realized that it hadn't occurred to him that the normal rules of human nature still applied.

He found another door, one he presumed lead outside, but it was locked. He had briefly considered attempting to break it down, but he didn't trust his strength, nor did he want to pay for the damage if he ever got out of this god-forsaken room.

The rest of the morning was spent, in vain, attempting to organize the mess on the girl's floor.

Roger was appalled at this girl's extreme lack of organization. He was orderly to a fault, according to Lisa. He wasn't sure how being orderly was a fault, but he didn't argue with Lisa much. Or rather, she didn't pursue an argument once he disagreed with her.

The hardest part of attempting to organize the room was that he didn't know where anything went. He had ended up making a pile of clothes near the closet and a pile of paper near the desk. He now sat in the desk chair, trying to think of what to do next. He had already wasted a morning, and the old woman had made it quite clear that he wasn't going anywhere until he discovered whose room this was.

Perhaps the morning hadn't been wasted. After all, he had discovered a few things about the girl. First, her family was wealthy. He had gone through her closet, trying to put the clothes away, and had found some very expensive brands of clothing. But he had also learned something else: for whatever reason, the girl disliked these clothes. All the clothes that were lying around on the floor were cheaper, maybe from Target or some other general store.

It perplexed him. Why would someone choose to wear cheaper clothing?

Perhaps it was the color. Everything that she seemed to wear often (if not on the floor, then on the top of the piles in her dresser), was some form of yellow, bright pink, bright blue, neon, or any other color that hurt his eyes. He wasn't surprised by this. Whoever this girl was, she was a very happy person.

He decided to spend the rest of the day going through her desk. He felt a bit uncomfortable at this obvious intrusion, but his instructions were to learn everything he could about her, and a desk was a very personal place. His desk at work probably told his story better than a memoir could.

The first drawer was filled with junk. He went through it quickly. He supposed junk could tell a lot about a person, but this was junk that only strengthened the idea that the girl was still young at heart. He found butterfly clips, small snow globes of different cities, erasers that looked like animals, a marble turtle figurine, and various types of decorated sticky notes, as well as a large assortment of pens and pencils.

The second drawer was a bit more interesting. It contained letters. He wasn't aware that people still wrote letters. He went through the birthday cards quickly, as none of them appeared to be very personalized. But the letters themselves were very interesting. Most were meaningless letters from friends, referencing people and events he had never heard of. But one in particular caught his attention. It was from a friend, signed only with an elaborately scripted "A", and appeared to be a thank you note. The first half of the letter was nothing more than responses to the girl's last letter, it seemed.

But then it thanked her. It thank her for her "extreme kindness" and "unfailing support in a dark moment in my life". It thanked her for "again, proving that you are the most spectacular being to walk this earth".

Roger frowned. This girl must have been stronger than he thought.

The last drawer contained school supplies, which didn't interest him much. The notebooks were bright colors, but that was nothing new.

He went to bed that night, still mulling over what it could all mean.