The Gardener Girl

Rune enters the Operation.

 3 ~ THE GARDENER GIRL

 

        

        Rune was no longer conspicuous, acting as a part of the living stream of sidewalk goers.  Each person acted as an organism that contributed to the whole, like molecules in the atmosphere or organs in an animal.  By contributing, each individual was anonymous, and for the time of their walk, had only one identity.  They were one of the stream.  Each time Rune exhaled, her breath contributed to a wavering fog that danced among the sidewalk goers, the exhaust of many engines that made up a giant machine.  This machine existed to drive the people to pursue whatever destination the sidewalk delivered them to.  The machine and its sidewalk represented survival; to move was to exist.

        Rune’s journey on the sidewalk ended at the foot of Capitalist Bank.  She hesitated before walking in.  Her head tilted upward and she took in the enormity of the building.  It was magnificent and silver, reflecting the color of the sky.  It overlooked the city with all the presence of an egyptian monument and all the confidence of a victorious lion; the ideal persona of every banker and businessman who worked inside of it.

        Rune entered through the revolving door.  Inside, the bank was cold and subtly austere.  The floors were brown and white marble, as was the lobbyists desk at the end of the hall.  Around the upper rim of the walls was a German phrase, in gold, capital lettering, that Rune wasn’t able to decipher.  Am Kapitalisten begehen wir alle.  The windows glared with silver light.  

        On the far wall, positioned above the lobbyist, was a large portrait of a German looking man sitting in a leather chair.  With one glance, anyone was convinced that this was no ordinary painting.  The presence of the man in the chair was poignantly alive.  Any person occupying the lobby was judged by his omnipotent gaze.  Rune looked down at her old sweatshirt, as if suddenly self conscious.  

        She pulled out the black cell phone from her new bag.  It was flashing a “new message” icon.  She read it.

 

        

 

        

FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3.28

 

        TIME 13:14

 

        MESSAGE enter the bank

        “Well I did that,” Rune muttered.

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 13:14

 

        MESSAGE approach the lobbyist.  

 

        

        “This is a weird bank, where are the tellers?” Rune commented.  Within moments the phone had replied.

 

        

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 13:14

        MESSAGE they only call it a bank 

        Rune did as told and approached the lobbyist.  The woman in the desk was blonde and dressed in white.  Her lipstick was so bright and red that it gave the impression that her lips were separate from her body.  She laid her eyes on a particular hole in Rune’s sweatshirt. Wrinkles formed on the ends of her lips as they sunk downward.

        “Hello,” said the woman, moving her gaze slowly towards Rune’s, “What can I do for you?”

        “Um,” Rune glanced down at the cell phone for guidance.

 

              

 FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 13:14

 

        MESSAGE state that you would like to enter the Operation.

        “I would like to enter the Operation,” Rune said with cold confidence.  The woman looked at her in a comical way.  She coughed a little and chuckled.

        “What?”

        “I would like to enter the Operation,” Rune repeated, tepid.  Her nostrils opened slightly in indignation.  Her licks of red hair were like curls of spitfire encircling her face.

        “What for?” she scoffed, “Who are you?”  Rune sought guidance again in the sleek black cell phone.  

 

        

FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/38

 

        TIME 13:15

 

        MESSAGE “Dem Kapitalisten begehen wir alle”

         “Dem Kapitalisten begehen wir alle,” Rune repeated, pronouncing each syllable.  She wondered within herself how the cell phone was able to respond so fast.

        The woman stifled laughter.  Her eyes fell on the cell phone and Rune moved her hand quickly to a place where it was less visible. She leaned towards Rune, smiling amusedly.  “Are you for real?” she whispered.  Rune only glared.  The woman stopped smiling.  “Okay, well,” she continued, twisting a lock of blonde hair in her fingers, “If this is for real, you must have some sort of reason why you want to get in.”

        Rune’s eyes widened; she had been caught off guard.  

        “Who is texting you so much, anyway?” The woman prodded, pointing out the cell phone.  Rune ignored her.   Creating a story, she glanced to the right.  In doing so, her eyes found a small, pink plant on the woman’s desk in front of her.

        “I’m a gardener,” Rune explained with conviction.

        “Oh really,” the woman frowned, looking at the portrait on the other wall, “The Lord doesn’t usually let gardeners into his Operation.”

        “Except when he hires them,” Rune countered.  For a few moments all that existed between Rune and the teller was the combat of two gazes.

        “You are telling me that you were hired personally by the Lord Weildbonner to, um, water his plants?”

        “Yeah,” Rune affirmed, “I’d tell you to ask him yourself,” Rune looked up, thinking, “but, um, you wouldn’t be able to talk to him, would you?”

        “Well then,” the woman half snarled, “where’re your tools?”

        “He’s gonna give them to me,” Rune retorted.

        “Are you really a gardener?”

        “Yeah.”

        The woman’s thick lips sank and frowned.  The bone was picked clean.  She opened the desk and typed a number in a small, triangular calculator device.  

        Behind the lobby desk and below the great portrait, was a silver, cylindrical door that Rune had failed to notice before now.  Moments after the woman typed the code into her calculator, a tall, grave faced man in a neat suit emerged from the splitting cylinder.  She looked in his direction and Rune followed her gaze.
        “Well, there’s your man,” she spat.  Rune hesitated.  “Go on,” she urged, gesturing impatiently.  Rune strode away from her, stuffing the directions in her pocket.  As the man watched her approach, his saturnine expression did not change, but his gaze did tend to shift toward her shoe.

        “Hello,” he greeted tepidly.  His mien was dutiful and with good posture.  He gave almost no impression of youth but his hair was black and his skin looked smooth; he couldn’t have been over thirty.  Squarely set on his face was a large, beak-like nose.

        “Hi,” Rune replied noncommittally.  Almost ignoring her, the man stepped over to a small button by the silver doors.  He pressed it and Rune had to jump back; out of the floor rose a stand with a small screen on the top.  The man laid his hand on the screen and muttered something in German.  After a moment, it blinked green.  He gestured for Rune to come forward.  

        “Have you ever been inside the Operation before?” he asked.

        “Um, no?”

        “Then I’ll have to have you do this,” he sighed, taking her hand and placing it on the screen.  It lit up one finger at a time, then blinked red.  No Match, It said, Enter New? The man affirmed to enter a new print, and the screen became a panel of letters, like a keyboard.

        “What is your name?” he asked.  Rune hesitated.  “What is your name?” he repeated.

        “Um,” She searched, “only the Lord can know that,”

        His large nostrils flared.  “Who are you?”

        “Um,” she looked around, “I’m a gardener.”

        “My Lord has no confidential gardeners,” the man snapped.

        “Of coarse you would think that,” Rune countered, “if its confidential.”

        He stuttered, stricken for a moment.  “Just tell me your name,” he hissed.  Rune said nothing, thinking.

        “Tell me your name or you will be executed.”

        “Wow, hey, I’m Rune McDella,” she said quickly, proceeding to type her name into the screen.  State The Code, the screen ordered.  The man glanced at her suspiciously.  Rune reached into her pocket for the cell phone.  

        “State the code,” he ordered, pushing her arm away from her pocket.  She made a small grunt of defiance.   His lip curled slightly when she hesitated again.

        “Am Kapitalisten,” she started, “begehen wir alle.”

        For a blinking moment, he was flabbergasted, but his face became stolid again and he confirmed the identity on the screen with his own hand.  The screen blinked green.

        The cylinder doors opened.  He beckoned her inside.  Before entering, Rune glanced cautiously up at the grand portrait.  With its spirited glare it stared back down at her.

        Inside, the elevator was small and metallic.  It was clearly meant for one person, and the ride, although short, was uncomfortable for both passengers.  Rune tapped her foot.

        The doors opened and they stepped into a great chamber.  The air was full and cool.  This chamber seemed to be the centerpiece of the building; when Rune gazed upwards, she could see level by level stacked on top of one another, like the ribs of a great, steel beast.  The ceiling was transparent, letting light soak into it and float down to a grand fountain where it was reflected into the atmosphere.  The fountain not only reflected light from the ceiling, but the grandeur of the building itself.  Echoing through the chamber was the sound of clicking heels on the tile floor; the sign of the great machine that was existence.

        “Where do you need to go?” Asked the man dutifully.  Rune fingered the directions in her pocket.  

        “Um, where the plants are,” said Rune unconvincingly.  The man gave her a strange glance, started to walk away, then did a double take and swerved back to her.

        “Don’t you need supplies?” he asked, a little incredulous, “A watering bucket, or something?”

        “No, its all mental,” Rune said, brusquely sarcastic.  He was blank.  “He said he’ll give me supplies,” Rune continued.

        “He?”

        “He, yes, he,” Rune breathed with increasing irritability, “the Lord said I could borrow his gardening tools,”

        The man’s lip pursed.  “Well, then, my Lord does most of his work on the top floor.  I presume that by elevator or stair, you may find your way up.”

        With that he turned curtly and left Rune to fend for herself.

        “Strange, strange indeed,” Rune muttered, mocking.  The cell phone vibrated and she opened it.

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 14:17

 

        MESSAGE good. take elevator to floor 21

        Rune turned and found herself with five elevators to choose from.  There was one, in the middle, from which she had come, so she decided not to use that one.  

        A hefty man in a black suit approached, glanced suspiciously at Rune, and decided to use the one on the far left.  To contradict him, Rune chose the one on the far right.  She pressed the up button, jumped back in anticipation, and then, realizing that nothing would emerge from the ground, stepped back.  She looked up and she and the hefty man glanced at each other in perfect unison.  He glanced back downward quickly, but Rune did not relent.

        “Hey, how’s it goin’?” Rune greeted.  Checking herself, she added, “Good day!” He gave her a very odd look and Rune imitated his gaze.  He scoffed and their elevator doors opened.  In unison, they boarded.  

        Inside, the elevator was much larger than the first, and filled with golden plated mirrors.  After eying the strange, echoing image of herself caused by the multiple mirrors, she pressed the largest number on the panel.  The elevator lurched upward and Rune jumped in the air, seizing the moment.  Upon landing she seemed slightly disappointed.

        “Only works going down,” she muttered.  Nevertheless, she tried once more.  By the time the elevator reached its destination, Rune had tried three times to no avail.  She grunted and exited the elevator, stepping out into a long, narrow hallway.

        Rune was alone; the hallway was empty.  The walls were wooden and crafted artistically.  On the top edge was a border crafted from the wood which said something in German.  Rune had to look closer to tell what it said, but the message was the same as the code she had been ordered to state before:  Am Kapitalisten Begehen Wir Alle.  The phrase was repeated along the border, extending throughout the hallway.

        “What does it mean?” Rune wondered out loud.  After a moment she returned to the task, walking with purpose down the hallway.  She stopped in her tracks.  On the end wall, hanging above a large door, was another portrait of the German man.  This was not him sitting in a chair, but only his head.  Somehow, with the focus of the picture closer to his judging eyes, it was even more intimidating.  Rune rushed down the hallway and flew into the door beneath the portrait.

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 14:18 

 

        MESSAGE look through desk

        She peered around and breathed one heavy sigh.  The room was empty.  On the far wall was a warm looking fireplace.  Above the fireplace, an angry looking black bear’s head rested on a great plaque.  It faced a bull moose on the far wall that, when Rune looked at it, seemed scorning.  There was a beautiful wooden desk with a sleek computer monitor sitting on top of it,  and a great, grand piano with a fern on either side.  Rune saw these plants and laughed.  She gazed at the fireplace wishfully, but keeping herself to the task, walked over to the desk.   

        She opened all the drawers and dug through them with a crude hand.  Amongst pens and papers, she found a triangular shaped calculator much like the one that the teller woman had used for her.  Each button was a number, but instead of a zero, one button read “Alphonse”.

        Finding almost nothing of great financial value, Rune became frustrated.

        “What kind of a job is this, anyway?  Who ever’s on the end of that phone is such a crack,” she derided.  Suddenly her face lit up and she grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket. 

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 13:18

 

        MESSAGE a wise crack

        Rune laughed heartily, “criminy, good one,” she said.  Rune got on the floor, preparing to search the bottom of the desk for other drawers.

        On the other side of the room, the doorknob clicked.  Rune shoved the cell phone back into her pocket.  Someone was entering the room.  She jumped up in ruthless haste and bashed her head against the desk.  Rune grabbed the side of her head and dropped again to the floor, pulling herself under the desk with ruthless haste.  Cautiously, she peered out from underneath the desk.  She tried to control her rapid breathing.  It only made her feel like she was suffocating.

        Two men filed into the room, arguing about something.  Fearful that they would see her, Rune could only glance for a moment before she recoiled.  It was the butler who had led her to the elevator and another man that she didn’t immediately recognize.  He placed his hand on the piano, as if stabling himself.  As Rune quietly moved farther under the desk, she began to get that funny feeling.  She had seen that man before.  His persona was all to familiar.  Fiery and intimidating; like a laser.  But who?  Rune clutched her head.

        “I don’t need a gardener!”  the strange man snapped, “I’m capable of watering two ferns by myself!  I’m not comatose!”

        “My Lord, I--” the butler was hastily interrupted.

        “Don’t ‘my Lord’ me, Alphonse,” the Lord growled, “this is no time for chivalry.  Find this girl.  This gardener,” the word seemed to sour his tongue, “Bring her straight to the Holdings.”

        Rune’s heart stopped.  She held her breath as the butler’s swift steps carried him out of the office.

        “No, wait,” the Lord called to Alphonse, “bring her to me.  I’m in the mood for a nice chat,” he ended icily.  Rune’s spirits rose slightly.  That had to be better than the Holdings, whatever they were.

        The door shut.  Rune and the strange man were alone in the office.

        Something was buzzing against Rune.  She flinched.  Warm relief melted down her face when she realized it was the cell phone.  She was about to open it when a new sound met her ears.

        Suddenly the whole room was overflowing with music.  The piano was alive, drenching the hearth office with sound, like water in a humid atmosphere.  For a moment Rune breathed.

        The cell phone vibrated again, nagging.  She opened it.

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 13:18

 

        MESSAGE u move u die

 

        

 

        FROM applicationsscarcity

 

        DATE 3/28

 

        TIME 3:19

 

        MESSAGE thats florian playing piano.  hell have to find you eventually.  dont worry, hes a real softie.

        Rune did not move or speak.  Her only thoughts were on breathing.  Keep breathing.  The piano music was angry.

        Seconds ticked by.  Minutes.  Eternities.  The music was immortal.  Surely, Rune thought wildly, she would sit here for a lifetime.  She would die before they found her.  The thought seemed to please her before she caught herself.  

        The door clicked open.  The music continued.  It was several minutes before the person who opened the door found the fortitude to interrupt.

        “My Lord,” came a woman’s voice.

        “Yes,” he said in a low voice, continuing to play.

        “We have conducted a search of the entire building,” she said.  Her statement was more like a question, asking the Lord to affirm her.  He didn’t.

        “Don’t lie to me,” he said.  His voice emulated the music; low and quiet, with a subtly ominous tone.

        “My Lord, I--”

        “Don’t ‘my Lord’ me, Claudia,” he said in a less threatening tone than he had given Alphonse, “I know for certain that there is one room that nobody has checked.”

        Rune’s heart thrust against her rib cage, pounding and pounding.

        “Well, I was going to say, my L--” the woman checked herself, continuing sheepishly, “well, we have not found the gardener yet.”

        “I know that, Claudia,” he replied dryly.

        “I know, I mean,” the woman stammered, chuckling nervously, “of course you would, I, well, I should have expected--”

        “Stop babbling, Claudia, you’re making a fool of yourself.”

        The woman was quiet.  The music died abruptly.  Rune heard the man stand up from the piano, speaking with a certain intensity.

         “I am confident of the competence of the Handlers.  Surely they have checked every corner of the building by now.  If they have not found the gardener girl, there are only two options.  One is that she somehow fled.  The other is that she is here in this room, listening to our every word.”

        Rune paled.  Footsteps clopped nearer and nearer to the desk.  She froze in sublime bewilderment as two feet became visible, inches from hers.  The figure kneeled over.

        The Lord smiled smugly at the woman under the desk.  A storm of electricity shot through Rune as she suddenly recognized the man’s face.

        “Ah,” he said, almost mocking, “here’s our gardener.”  

        And,  Rune realized within herself, the German man from the portrait.

Author's Note

I apologize about the small size of the texts, I couldn't get the font to be any larger.

Reviews

[George Pushdragon]

bravo. i applaud you.

i kind of prefer the first version though, you know but i think the first two chapters add a bit.

oh yeah, this is corey. who else would have this dumb of a name? ha.

[Rexxy]

haha yey!!!