Chapter 7

The first thing she wanted to know was if I had any remarkable talents, presumably for her to exploit and profit off of. I didn't know if I did or didn't, but I didn't think so, and that's what I told her. Next she wanted to know if I had finished school, and she raved about how important it was to have an education so that you wouldn't be on the bottom rung of the ladder your whole life. She claimed that if I were to cooperate and become an integral part of “The Dream” as she called it, that she would see to it herself that I got my GED and was placed in the college of my choice when the time was right. She filled me with hope and excitement, something to look forward to, to plan, to achieve. I would be able to find real work, a real niche in the world. I would be able to let myself wonder what I would be when I grew up because now I had an option.
Then she wanted to know about my family, where I was from, how I got where I was, and if I had anywhere I could go back to. The way she worded it made it seem as though “somewhere to go back to” wasn't a home so much as a prison or something. So I told her a little about the place I had stayed in New Jersey and that I was basically a runaway orphan. I think I saw her eyes sparkle.
“You could have a place in this city.” she told me, lazily. Her heavy accented words were starting to slur together due to the influence of a menagerie of substances that she had recently ingested.
“Go with Cage to his apartment. He'll explain what you need to know... details and things. I need rest- come back when you decide.” She gazed at me, her eyes roaming my malnourished body. “You can leave your clothes here if you wish- I'll have them clean when you get back.” I nodded, smiling my appreciation. “And Jet?” she added as we turned to leave. I looked back at her. “If you do happen to be off-put by the... details... and refuse the offer... I might suggest considering your state before you arrived here... it may just define the rest of your life.” She looked at me coolly. “Paint a pretty picture?” she asked.
I just stared at her before I turned back around, clutching Tanner, and followed Cage out of the Garden.
We arrived at a nearly hidden low-income apartment complex. It was a strange contrast in comparison to the luxury the Madame lived in, but it was warm and more hospitable, junkies notwithstanding.
And...
there was food.
As I scarfed down a freshly made grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of apple juice, I listened to Cage, who was sitting across from me at his small card table. He explained “The Dream”.
Basically, he told me, Madame Rook was like a patron saint of lost souls. She took people under her wing who didn't know how to care for themselves and taught them, (or promised to teach them) to be self-sufficient. She wanted equality world wide, the rich and the poor, the religious and the scientific, the free and the enslaved. Madam Rook, Cage claimed, was a visionary.
Madame Rook.
She Cared About People.
But you've got to give a little to get a little, he went on, withdrawing deeper into his idealistic portrayal of his beloved “Mother”. In the case of the lost souls, in the cases of the Cages and the Jets, we had to be the pawns. Peace Pawns, he explained. We had to go out, be proactive, spread the word, spread the love.
And, yes.
Spread the drugs.
But the drugs, Cage concluded, were just a statement, a way of sticking it to the people trying to control the lives of everyone around them. The drugs couldn't be taxed. The drugs couldn't contribute to capitalistic, money-hungry criminals. The drugs represented freedom. Freedom of choice. Democracy as it was originally intended. The drugs were peace.
We were selling peace.
“Mother- she pays for the apartment, for our food, all the bills, she gives us everything we need, but no more because she says materialism is the downfall of the human race. If she's going to help us make it in the world, we have to understand it first. We have to follow The Dream.”
“Us?” I asked. I hadn't exactly made a commitment yet, and there wasn't another soul in sight.
“There are others, little sister. You'll meet them. We work and live together, as a team, as a family. Mother directs us, guides us... tells us where to be and who to look for.”
“Um... you weren't looking for me, were you?” I asked him, finding the thought that the well-manicured woman might have psychic powers a little bit off-putting.
“No, family finds you. You found me the same as I found Mother, family finds each other. That's just the way it is.” Cage replied, looking wistfully beyond me, beyond our dimension. It was this look that I got to know so well, his dazed, imprisoned search for hope. He cleared his throat and came back to me.
“When you have family, you have a place to call home... All you have to do is follow her instructions. And don't ask questions. Mother hates mundane thinkers, she'll lose respect for you in a heartbeat if you question her ways. Especially since she's the one who knows what's best for us... she's the one who gives us a home and a family and a chance at a life free of dumpster food and numb toes.” Cage gazed over my shoulder dreamily and pulled a cigarette from his pack on the table. He offered me one and I refused politely. “Mother cares about all of us. All she wants is to see us succeed for the right reasons. If you don't show her what she wants to see, then it's over. I've seen many come and many forced to leave. I've never asked questions because I know that if I did, I would be as bad off as I was... and I don't think I can ever live like that again.” he admitted to me. He looked at me seriously, all the dreaminess was replaced by a hard, unwavering seriousness. “How about you, Just Jet? Do you want to go back out there tonight? Not knowing where to go or where you'll be, whether or not this is your last breath? Do you want food covered in cat piss? Mold? Things so heinous that you want to puke them up the second they're in your mouth?”
I shook my head silently, watching his eyes well up passionately. “Then please don't be stupid. It's all just a game to the people out there- the elite, the job-holding elite who spend their money on things they don't need in a world they don't care about. They know competition, but they know nothing of survival. Together we're stronger.” he explained. “We're all virtually strangers, but the spirit in us is the same eternal battery that has charged humanity from the start. Common experience, common spirit, collective experience shapes the world and you and me, Jet, we have that. You won't be alone, ever again.” he concluded gently, casting his eyes down to the table, apparently embarrassed by his outpour. He hit his cigarette, gazing at a torn spot on the table where the cork board beneath the layer of foam was visible.
So, as I downed the last of my apple juice, I contemplated all that I had been told. What he was asking of me, as I took it, was to become a member of a blossoming empire of communist drug-pushers who, in return for blissful ignorance, would provide me with a heated place to stay and warm meals that weren't from the soup-kitchen.
So obviously I agreed.
I became part of the “family.”