Page 20 of Doubts of the Egoist
The lit-up windows cast yellow rectangles on the trimmed grass. Night birds screamed in the air, their black wings flapping. The white stone façade was dressed in blue. A few people in casual clothes smoked next to the porch. He ignored their curious glances as he pushed through the main doors. Just as he’d thought, it was much easier to process his memories and deal with his tangled emotions outside. The air inside felt oppressive and didn’t fill his lungs.
Lost in thought, he paid no attention to Greg’s long, quizzical stare, but the heavy atmosphere that engulfed the mansion was impossible to ignore. Alert, he climbed the stairs and stealthily approached the wide-open bedroom door. The icy water squelching in his tennis shoe on the way back had warmed up by the time he entered the dark room and no longer bothered him.
The full moon hung low, right above the windowsill, washing the fireplace and the front paws of the wolf pelt in a dead blue. Closer to the door, spots of yellow light from the hallway shone off its hind paws. The high mirrors reflected the empty bed picked out in bluish, neon radiance, alien to this part of the room.
Sure that his eyes were deceiving him, Kuon turned, squinted, and moved closer to the epicenter of the confusion. An aperture in the wall gaped behind the nightstand; the bluish glow emanated from within. With his palm resting on the edge, he peered inside.
In a relatively narrow, windowless room, lit by two rows of monitors mounted on a desk, Yugo sat hunched over his keyboard in an office chair. His white shirt creased over his shoulders but stretched around his back so tightly that his skin color showed through. His rolled-up sleeves revealed tonedforearms as his fingers raked through his hair, messing up his not-so-long-ago perfect haircut. He didn’t notice the intrusion, so Kuon took another moment to look around while he could.
The narrow, trapezoidal room was so cleverly squeezed between the bathroom and bedroom that it was hard to believe that so much space was hidden. He had always assumed that some space was taken up by the ventilation system, plumbing, and boilers, but never thought there was an entire room hidden behind the wall.
Blurred and vague, a metal rack loomed at the far end. Black boxes on the shelves reminded him of the police evidence archive; white, blurry labels on the sides only increased the resemblance.
While in captivity, he would have killed to know this room existed. He’d spent months tormented by isolation, when the Internet had been behind that door all along.
Why have I never noticed this… what is it, a panic room?
The air here was a few degrees cooler than in the bedroom, but no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he couldn’t see a refrigerator, sink, or even a bucket, let alone a toilet bowl.
I guess not… I wonder if there’s an emergency exit…He searched the ceiling for an air conditioner. The powerful ventilation system installed in the ceiling might serve as an escape route.
For some reason, he felt deceived.
“Has it always been here?” His words echoed through the small room as his foot crossed the threshold.
Yugo spun around. The office chair creaked, rattled, andslammed against the desk. In an instant, he was on his feet, towering over Kuon. They were about the same height, and after Afghanistan, Kuon had become slightly broader than him, but the anger rolling out of Yugo in invisible waves made him feel cramped, as if the man had taken up the entire space.
“Where the fuck have you been?” The air shifted, and iron fingers sank into Kuon’s biceps, sending jolts of pain down his arm. Gray, cold eyes locked on him as Yugo yanked his arm and hissed in his face, “Answer me.”
Kuon winced, stunned by the unexpected assault. “Just out. Let go, you’re hurting me.”
“Out? Alone?” A deep crease cut between Yugo’s brows as he inched closer, washing Kuon in bittersweet tobacco. An angry glare scanned his face, as if searching for signs of deception.
Suspicion touched the edge of his mind as Tobias’ words rang in his ears.“Look at you, living back in your former kennel with such eagerness. Guarding your territory, barking at intruders. Impressive, Puppy, impressive. Enjoy your domain, but don’t forget that a leash is a leash, even if it’s not around your neck. How long is yours?”
With his nails biting into palms, he glared back. Trying to keep the growing annoyance out of his voice, he said, “Yes, alone. Why are you pissed? Am I not allowed to leave your bedroom?”
A shadow of confusion crossed Yugo’s face when he failed to retort. It looked as if he’d never actually considered such a possibility.
“Seriously?” The annoyance escalated into a mild rage. “Am I a prisoner here again and not allowed to leave?”
“Of course not.” Yugo let go of Kuon’s arm. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, brushing back the loose raven strands. “I didn’t expect to find an empty bedroom, and you were nowhere to be found. You’re late for dinner and meds. Next time you go out, let someone know so I don’t have to go looking for you. The house is big; the grounds are even bigger. It’s easy to get lost there. I always need to know where to find you.”
“This wouldn’t be an issue if you hadn’t thrown away my phone.” Kuon rubbed his bicep where Yugo’s fingers had been gripping; the pain still lingered.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” The ice thawed in the gray eyes, but they didn’t lose their intensity. With one hand, Yugo reached out and pulled a blade of grass from Kuon’s hair, then gave him a slow once-over. His voice was deep and soft, but still carried a hint of irritation. “Care to explain where you’ve been? Why do you look like you’ve been rolling on the ground?”
Kuon looked down. His jeans had a green grass stain on his shin; the other leg was soaked up to his knee. “I was at the river. My foot slipped.”
Yugo’s eyes narrowed, lips curled into a snarl. “It’s a mountain river. It’s not safe to wade in. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”
“That’s all I’ve been doing. Remembering.” The quiet words left his mouth before Kuon could stop them.
Yugo flinched as if he had been slapped. His jaw worked, and he shook his head. Something akin to disappointment crossed his features for a split-second, and he sized the former cop up again. Not a hint of irony found its way into his voice when he asked, “Successfully, I hope?”
Fuck…Kuon winced. He didn’t intend to bring up the pastor argue over things he couldn’t change, especially since they’d already clarified that Yugo had no regrets. Still, some memories refused to perish. “I can’t help it. It’s not like I can wipe my memory, and everything around here has history. Anyway, what kind of room is this?”
Without waiting for Yugo to reply, he turned to the metal rack and took a few steps toward it. Through the gloom, a white label with four letters on it stared right back at him. He blinked as the image fell into focus, crisp and clear. Expecting the mirage to collapse under his touch, he reached for the box and ran his fingers over the name.
