The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra

I COULD ALREADY TELL what would happen next: I would wake up disoriented in some kind of clinic or unknown room, recalling the events that had passed before losing consciousness. If I were lucky, I would find out that I had rewound time and escaped danger.

The exhibit was different. I opened my eyes to find a crowd surrounding me, looking down at me with concerned faces. They were murmuring to each other, bringing out their phones, and saying things about calling for help. Dazed, I scanned their faces, hoping to recognize someone in that sea of strangers. They were so fussy and noisy that they made my head hurt even more.

“She’s opening her eyes,” I heard a voice say.

Was that Philip?

Slowly, I turned my head to the voice. Philip crouched next to me with Bree, Curtis, and Rachael behind him. I groaned, prompting my elbows on the ground to hoist myself up. Philip placed a hand on my shoulder as I sat up on the floor, my vision thankfully clearing up.

“Quinn,” Curtis said, stepping forward. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Jeez, you got us worried, Vasquez,” Bree added.

“You probably should have taken things easy,” Philip told me.

“You shouldn’t have just sat up like that.”

I didn’t immediately process what they were saying to me. I was gaping at my surroundings, and I sat there in utter disbelief as I realized where I was.

“We’re at the exhibit?” I stammered. I wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular; in hindsight, I must have been talking to myself.

“Of course, we’re at the exhibit,” Rachael said. “Where else?”

“We’d just finished our first song when we saw you collapse,” Curtis explained.

It was surreal seeing Deus Ex Machina wearing their same performance wardrobe. I remained in the same spot where I had passed out, but I was so used to finding myself someplace else. I never realized how weird it would feel otherwise.

Amidst the confusion, Harumi stood at a distance, appearing a bit dazed watching Deus Ex Machina fuss over me. She looked like she wanted to approach me and help out, but the exhibit’s host emerged from behind her and rushed toward me. I could see the wax in his hair up close, and the scent of his cologne was overwhelming.

“Miss, are you all right?” he asked me.

I nodded slowly. “I think I’m fine now. Thank you.”

“What happened?”

I frowned. What did happen? I wasn’t doing anything exhausting, so I had no idea how to answer.

“She’s our schoolmate, sir,” Curtis said. “She tends to pass out after physical activities. She goes in and out of the nurse’s office.”

I didn’t notice that Philip had disappeared until he came back. He handed me a bottle of water and urged me to drink. I mouthed a thank you as I clutched the open bottle in my hands.

“She can go to the mall clinic and get some rest,” the host said.

“No, no.” I staggered to my feet. “I—I think I’m feeling better now.”

I shouldn’t have spoken too soon. The minute I stood up, I felt the world around me begin to spin. My knees wobbled and I lost my balance. Curtis caught me and I found myself clutching his ironed polo shirt. I instantly let go.

Bree crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re not looking so sharp tonight, Vasquez. Just go get some rest. We’ll come for you right after the show.”

Harumi stepped forward. She didn’t look so dazed anymore. “I’ll go with you, Quinn,” she then turned to the host. “Where’s the mall clinic?”

“On the ground floor near the restrooms,” the host replied. “A security guard can assist you.”

Harumi nodded. We then walked arm-in-arm out of the exhibit proper with my knees still shaking and my head throbbing. I still had trouble seeing straight, so I imagined that our trip to the mall clinic was going to take longer than it should have.

“Our program will be taking a short break,” the host said as we left.

“Musical performances by our guest band will resume in ten minutes. Thank you for your patience, everyone…”

The nurse at the clinic ran a quick checkup on me. She examined my eyes and throat, took my temperature and blood pressure, and monitored my heartbeat and breathing with a stethoscope. She frowned and turned to Harumi.

“Your friend seems normal,” she said. “Does she have any sort of preexisting condition?”

“When she does any sort of physical activity, she passes out,” Harumi replied.

“Okay, but what specifically?” The nurse then turned to me. “Have you had it checked yet?”

I shook my head. I was tempted to say that it wasn’t the job of St. John’s medical staff to figure out what was wrong with me. They were just there to provide first aid and over-the-counter medicines.

“No,” I said. “I’ve been fine for the last month, though. It had been long since I passed out due to strenuous activities.”

“So what were you doing when you passed out tonight?” the nurse then asked.

I shrugged. “I wasn’t doing much. I was just standing, watching a musical performance.”

The nurse nodded intently. “Were you in a crowd?”

“Yes, I was.”

“You probably just lacked oxygen. Or it could be due to stress accompanied by a bad diet. Kids these days and their junk food. Just sit down here and take a few deep breaths. Hydrate and get some rest for the next few days.”

Harumi and I nodded and said our thank you’s as the nurse smiled and headed back to the front desk, leaving Harumi and me alone in a tiny ward.

“So how long have you had this condition?” Harumi asked.

I sighed. “Almost my entire stay at St. John’s.”

“And the school never had it checked?”

“I just can’t handle physical activity well. I have always been like this. The passing out is new, though; I’ve never experienced it so frequently before.”

“So, before St. John’s, you weren’t this sick?” Harumi clarified.

I nodded. “Yeah. After a few consecutive trips to the nurse’s office, they let me sit out of gym class.”

“I see…”

That conversation with Harumi made me wonder what it was about coming to St. John’s that was making me feel unwell. There was passing out during gym class, Cassandra taking over my head, and finally, knowing that the Metropolis was the abandoned fictional work of the Author. Of course, I didn’t discuss that with the new Harumi. Instead, we ended up talking about school and what to have for breakfast the next morning. After about an hour or so, Deus Ex Machina arrived at the mall clinic to pick us up. I fell asleep on the car ride back to St. John’s and brought that weariness with me to my bed in the dorms.

I expected to wake up in tip-top shape in the morning; I knew that it didn’t take long for me to recover after losing consciousness, but when I crawled out of bed the next morning, I felt nauseous. When I brought my hand to my head, heat erupted from my skin. Harumi climbed down from the top bunk, and when she saw me, she gasped.

“Quinn, you look pale,” she muttered. “What happened?”

I only groaned in response. She placed a hand on my forehead and immediately withdrew it.

“I’ll get the nurse,” she said.

I couldn’t tell how much time had passed before the nurse came into our dorm room with Harumi following behind her. The nurse greeted me with a kind smile and checked my temperature. It was when she read the thermometer that she frowned.

“I’m afraid you have a fever, Ms. Vasquez,” she said.

She left some paracetamol on the dorm’s desk, and since it was the weekend, she recommended that I take the time to get some rest.

When the nurse left, I did as she said and lay down. Neither the fan nor the air conditioning was on, but I still shivered. I brought my blanket up to my chin and wrapped my arms over my chest for warmth. I didn’t realize I was starving until Harumi brought me some chicken soup from the cafeteria. I ate it slowly, its taste barely lingering on my tongue, and wrapped myself in my blanket again once I was through. I took the paracetamol and lay down. I didn’t remember falling asleep.

When I woke up, the sun shone intensely through the blinds, obscuring my vision. I reached for my phone beside me and squinted my eyes at the screen, seeing that it was already three-thirty in the afternoon. I groaned, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head and the weird taste in my mouth. I looked toward the door of my room, debating whether or not I had the strength to get myself some lunch. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed to fill my stomach to drink my medicine. That was what the nurse said.

Then, I noticed how silent it was.

I should have been used to it, but I didn’t have the dorm to myself anymore. Where was Harumi?

If I weren’t so sluggish, I would have come up with a scenario in which I hadn’t brought her to life at all, and that those past few weeks have merely been a sick dream. Or maybe she had gone out again, and Cassandra was out to get her.

However, my sick side got to me the most. I told myself not to worry about Harumi too much; she was probably getting some items from the nearby convenience store or meeting with classmates on the school grounds.

I decided that I was too groggy to get myself some lunch, so I began waiting for Harumi to come back. When you’re sick, however, a couple of minutes often feel like an eternity.

I quickly gave up.

I wobbled out of bed with my blanket around my shoulders. I then opened the bottom drawer of the closet where Harumi kept all of our snacks. I ate two individually-wrapped mini cakes, gulped down another dose of paracetamol, and went to sleep once more.

Harumi had already been in the dorm when I woke up again later that night. She got me a sports drink to cure my sluggishness and bought some convenience store dumplings for dinner. I was still feverish, but at least my appetite improved. I was able to help myself to a half serving of rice and three full dumplings.

Harumi took her share, dipped it in soy sauce, and brought it to her mouth. When she swallowed, she looked at me and said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you this: I got a part-time job. Today was the first day.”

I sipped on my sports drink. “Ah, I woke up in the afternoon wondering where you were. Where do you work now?”

“The ice cream parlor,” Harumi replied.

My eyes widened. I put down my sports drink before I could choke on it. That couldn’t be the same place Philip worked, could it?

I leaned against the bed frame. “I see. So how was it?”

“Pretty slow,” Harumi said. “Doesn’t really matter since we’re paid by the hour. The manager was a pain in the butt, but the owner, Mr. Simon, was nice.”

I finally found out who that mysterious Simon was. One time, when I was on the way to The MacGuffin, I heard Philip mention him to someone on the phone.

You’ve got to trust Mr. Simon, Philip had said.

All that was left was the mystery of the archives and who they were hiding it from.

She’ll never find the archives…

For a moment, I thought Harumi would mention the archives and explain what they were, but she never did. She didn’t even say anything about Philip working at the same place. It was either they had different shifts, or Philip had told her to keep his job a secret.

I chose not to ask Harumi any further questions. I figured that she would naturally tell me more as she continued working there. Also, I didn’t want to explain why I was so curious about her workplace. I was too sick and too tired to do so.

Later that night, however, I couldn’t sleep. I was still a little nauseous from a fever and headache, but my eyes were wide open as I lay down in bed and watched the blinds sway gently in the breeze.

Harumi, on the other hand, had long been asleep; I could hear her snoring softly from the top bunk.

I reached for my phone to see that it was midnight. Sunrise was hours away, and no matter how hard I tried, I didn’t seem to be falling asleep. What was I going to do?

Then, for some random reason, I thought of Julio. I hadn’t seen him since that night he took me to the seaside, and the last time we talked, he worried about Rachael’s dreams of the Lethe. I wondered how he was doing. Was he finally able to sort things out?

I slipped out of bed, pulling out a sheet of paper from one of the desk drawers. I took a pen, turned on the desk lamp, and began thinking of a message for Julio.

Hey, Julio, how are you? It’s been a while. Hope you get this. Drop me a line as soon as you can.

I thought about what to say afterward. It didn’t feel right to end the letter just like that.

I’m worried about you. Take care! —Quinn

I folded the paper into an airplane and opened the window. I checked to see if Harumi was still asleep, and when I saw that she was, I looked toward the city skyline and sent my airplane into the night.