Someone was screaming very far away. It sounded like a crow being murdered. May wanted it to stop. She wanted to lay here, on the nice, cold floor in silence. Her cheek was pressed against something soft. Carpet? The fibers tickled her face. Oh how she wished it was quiet.
"Drink." The word entered her brain unsteadily. *Drink what?* May did not feel like drinking.
"DRINK." The word was said commandingly enough for May to register annoyance.
She felt hands pulling her away from the floor, lifting her head up, and putting a sweet-smelling hand over her mouth. *Oh,* she thought, *she was the one who had been screaming.*
"Drink," the Caretaker repeated.
May swallowed and winced in pain. She opened her eyes a crack and saw a mug dangling in front of her. She opened her lips and tasted sweet tea.
Once May had drunk the whole cup, she felt better enough to open her eyes all the way and massage her jaw. She was in her bathroom once again. There were three non-reflective walls and one door. The Caretaker was crouching in front of her wearing a newsboy cap. May thought that it suited him the best out of all the headgear he'd worn so far.
"You'll be alright," he said, watching her massage her jaw. "The Guardians are assholes."
It was the first time he had sworn. It felt alien to his being.
"Where was I?" It came out as a whisper.
"A place between dream and reality." He put the mug down with a snap. "They like head twisters, those guys. Riddles. It's all boredom. Meeting you was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them all millennium."
May leaned back against the cupboard beneath the sink and attempted to shake off the sensation of endless falling, while her body flailed around desperately trying to feel something, anything to hold onto. "I did--" she paused, but then soldiered on, "I did something brave," she said. May had voiced the words aloud, but the sentiment was entirely for herself. Despite the pain, the fear that had barely begun to decrease, and the ringing in her ears, May was conscious of a lightness in her heart.
"Increased self-esteem." He considered this. "Not a great new development. For me, that is."
May sucked in air sharply. "Yes it is. It's GREAT." But she had lost her voice completely which derailed any forcefulness the statement might have had.
When the Caretaker had helped her to the bedroom, May tried to remember what had happened before she jumped.
Her pillow securely behind her still aching head, she summed up the main point. "They said I'll take on some of the pain, if I live that is." May watched him take in the sentence, his feet twitching slightly on the duvet cover. It had begun to seem right, him sitting on the edge of her bed, like more of a Peter Pan figure than a spectre of evil. Should she try to counteract this feeling?
"I don't know," he said finally. "It doesn't really apply to me, but I promise to give the possibility several minutes of consideration at a later date."
"Great," May said.
"Ah, irony," he rolled the word around his tongue. "It took me several decades to understand it."
May rolled away from him. "Congratulations."
He pulled the blankets up over her shoulders. "Get some sleep. We're leaving this afternoon."
May twisted her neck to look at him. "Leave? Where?"
He shrugged. "Does it matter? I need to go. I need to stay with you. You need an excuse not to visit your father" He paused, his eyes taking on a familiar faraway look. "He's still stable."
Internally, May admitted that his logic was sound. Externally, she let out a huff and slammed her sleep mask over her eyes.
He chuckled. "I'll be back in a few hours."
He had packed her suitcase for her. She had been too tired to protest. Whatever he'd thrown in it couldn't possibly be too terrible. May had no embarrassing halloween costumes or weird lingerie which, according to Ray, was embarrassing in its own right.
"Okay. A ship."
"Yacht," he corrected.
They were standing a little ways away from the long gangway of an enormous yacht, a Jeff Bezos style yacht with five decks and an above ground hot tub. It was titled: "The Flying Saucer," feeding May's utter delight in the ridiculous.
"People are taking yacht cruises?" May was incredulous. "It's like a petri dish in there."
The Caretaker had his hands deep in his pockets. "They think they're escaping." He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You're the only one immune."
May pinched her brows together in a way that she knew was identical to her mother, but she was maskless. She had decided to believe him. The lack of disease anxiety wouldn't hurt in terms of her mental health either.
"Why are we here?" May watched two semi-identical blonde women with puffed up cheekbones step onto the boat. "And, are we invisible? Did you get that power?"
The Caretaker began striding towards the boat.
"H-hey," May stomped after him, trailing her suitcase.
When they reached the man checking people in, the Caretaker showed him something on his phone. They were immediately let through.
"Wow…" they were trekking across soft carpeting and airy windows, the water outside sloshing about in an inviting sort of way, "can you hypnotize through phones? Very Doctor Who."
Several staff members greeted them in an obsequious way May found alarming. The Caretaker ignored them and walked faster. "They always get the history wrong," he said, ostensibly referring to the TV show and not the violent war paintings that lined the walls of each room they passed.
Finally, they stopped at a suite on the second deck. The Caretaker opened the door and May dragged him inside.
"Explain," she dumped the suitcase down carelessly.
He shut the door infuriatingly slowly. "Sometimes I am drawn to places with a concentrated amount of pain or depression. It has happened in homeless encampments and the D.M.V...one time at a Sears." He looked as though he was nostalgic. May's expression must have been quite something because he continued quickly as soon as he glanced at her. "In order to maintain the balance, I must be present during these occasions as it takes more energy to syphon off what cannot otherwise be maintained."
May sat down on a very lush bedspread. "Okay. But like yacht people pain is waayy less bad than normal people pain."
The Caretaker was indifferent to this. "It is possible that the true reason I am here is yet to come. The series of assaults did not occur at the frat house until after I had arrived."
May shivered at this. "So you trapped me on a boat where a series of unknown and horrific events will probably come to pass. And this is--what? Vacation?"
The Caretaker seemed puzzled. "You are an outsider here, not a piece of this puzzle." He waved his hand towards the hallway. "You want money. You can bathe in it until this boat docks." He looked genuine. "This is a favor."
May opened and closed her mouth several times before she spoke. "You don't listen to me at all do you?" She said it with a tinge of sadness.
The Caretaker looked a little shocked, maybe...upset? May couldn't be sure because the expression faded too quickly. There was a large rocking underneath them as the boat cast off.
"I have to be here anyway," The Caretaker said with a kind of sulky undertone. "Just do what you want for the next week until we get back."
May bounded up. "WEEK! What if my dad--what if?"
"I don't require this method of transportation, remember?" He spoke slowly.
She sat down again rather foolishly. "Right." There was a lurch and May clamped her hands down on the bed while the Caretaker remained motionless.
May gathered her thoughts. "So, we're not invisible?"
"Correct."
"We're fictitious guests at this party?"
"Correct."
"Do I get a fake name?"
"Do you want a fake name?" He raised his eyebrows.
May crossed her legs and arms. "Of course I do! That's way more fun." A smile spread over her face. "Can I name you?"
"No."
The smile dropped. "Well, what did you name yourself? Caretaker?"
"Yes." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You are a guest, and I am your caretaker. As you have no obvious physical challenges I'd say they will assume mental illness is the reason for my presence."
"You--" May bounded towards him in fury but there was another lurch and she was catapulted into his arms. "Let go," she said. The words were muffled as her face was pressed into his chest.
"We are still swaying," he said. "It would be unwise to let you go until we reach smoother waters."
They stood in this strange embrace as the boat drunkenly rocked beneath them and May desperately attempted to hold onto her anger despite the fact that it was melting against her will as he stroked her head.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," the Caretaker called before May could protest.
A short, kindly looking staff member entered. Exhibiting zero shock at the position in which he found them, he painted on a wide smile. "Dinner is at 7:00," he said like a butler from an Upstairs Downstairs movie. "Event packets can be found on your bedside table. My name is Sal. Please let me know if there is anything I can assist you with."
"Thank you," the Caretaker said, holding May even tighter as she squirmed.
Sal backed out of the room, and they were alone again. The Caretaker released his hold as the boat steadied. As he did so, May felt a desire to keep clinging to him. She suppressed it.
Finally, she had a proper look around the spacious room. There was a single bed, which she decided to deal with later, and a closet that was bigger than her entire bedroom back home. On the table, along with an expensive looking lamp, was a novel-sized packet that presumably contained all the services offered onboard.
"Alright," May said. She was still exhausted, and now hunger had made an appearance. "What do I say at this dinner? Who am I in relation to these people?"
The Caretaker gave her a tiny half-smile. "Whoever you want. All I did was get you onboard."
Despite herself, May felt the kind of excitement she had thought was gone and never to return. She would be someone else. She would embrace a mask and play act as the happiest, most confident, most powerful woman who had ever existed. She would love life to its utmost. She would make him regret bringing her here. *Screw you,* she thought, gazing into his wide set slightly, mocking eyes, and then looked away quickly. It was going to be difficult not to kiss him again.
Or should she just do it?
No.
Why not?
NO.
Nothing bad will happen.
SO MANY bad things could happen.
"What are you doing?"
She shook her head and came back to reality. "Sorry?"
He seemed concerned. "You keep touching my face and then backing away."
May realized that her hands were on either side of his head." She whipped them away. "I'm delirious."
She flew to the bed and curled up in a ball, her cheeks burning. He let out something that was suspiciously like a snicker as she thrust a pillow over her head.
The week was off to a bad start.