Lakewood - Megan Giddings Page 0,58

sure that she was dreaming or hallucinating.

“Roscoe loves strawberries,” the observer said. “I mean, subject R.”

They went into the room. Lena went over to the cages to watch the large rat eat. Kept herself still. This was all happening, she told herself. Lena had no idea why this woman had her here. Her impulse was to find a way to disappear, to keep exploring, to find something to steal, to find a way to take a photo of this whole operation. But it was better to act like she was still sick, still very confused.

Lena turned. In the back of the room there was a zoo-style enclosure. Inside were two oversized fawns eating grass. They looked closer in size to ponies than deer. A cage against the wall was filled with large bats that grossed her out more than the rat.

“Roscoe, you beautiful boy,” the observer whispered. She gave him more water, stroked his white head.

Along the walls next to the doors were computers on standing desks and potted plants. Some had leaves that looked as if they were made from pastrami—the new growth light pink and looking especially raw. Another plant was the color and texture of orange cat fur. Lena wanted to touch that plant, see if it felt like it looked.

“How are you feeling?” the observer asked.

Lena stared longer at the plant. The rat squeaked.

“Lena, how are you feeling?”

“Seeds,” she said.

“I hope you’re not too worried. I can’t imagine what it would be like,” the observer said in a soft voice. “Let’s get you walking some more.”

She helped Lena up out of the chair. Walked her to the back of the room. The fawns were sleeping. They didn’t startle as Lena and the observer moved closer.

“That’s King Kai, that’s Goku.”

They walked back to the hallway, went into another room where the walls and ceiling were covered in grass. Thick and lush. Lights were installed in the ceiling, and in those spots the grass around them looked golden. On the floor, corn was growing. Some stalks were too big, like the animals in the next room. Others were slate gray. A woman was bent over photographing the gray corn. She turned.

“Hey, Helena,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping out T group. One of their subjects got fried again.”

The woman with the camera rolled her eyes. “The shit people will do for money.”

The observer—Helena—laughed, but it sounded fake.

“I hope you feel better,” the woman said, turning back to the plants.

“Sausage,” Lena said, making her voice slow and dreamy.

The soil beneath her feet felt warm. Lena thought a room like this would be incredible to have in a house. It was probably so expensive, and you would have to cut all the ceiling grass by hand while standing on a ladder.

“Anyway, I need to make her walk around for a while. I’ll be back to help in an hour or two.”

“No worries. Almost everyone’s at the presentation, so we probably won’t do all the cage freshening until late tonight.”

Lena and the observer went out to the hallway. Lena let herself go limp, sagged a little in Helena’s arms. Here, everything was so white and clean. The dirtiest thing was the soles of her feet.

“You have to keep working,” the observer said. “This is the foundation for the rest of your life.”

They walked past a large door where three people were showing a man in a lab coat their arms. Growing on them were lines of mushrooms, the exact color of their brown skin. They looked close in shape to the baby bellas Lena liked to use in spaghetti.

“Did it hurt when they sprouted?” the man wearing the lab coat asked. He reached out, gently touched one of the mushrooms. “Slimy,” he said in a bored voice.

They walked on, the observer leading Lena to a bathroom. “Can you do this?” she asked Lena.

Lena felt the closest she did to breaking. She did not want to let this woman help her use the bathroom, but if she didn’t, the woman would know she was faking it. You want to know more, Lena told herself. She let the woman help her into the largest stall. The woman took Lena’s hands and guided her in pulling down the soft pants and underwear she was wearing. Then she turned and looked away while Lena peed. When it was over, the woman guided Lena’s hands to the toilet paper. Lena felt nauseated by the experience but told herself it could’ve been so much worse. The