The Hubby Hold (IQ Testing Book 2) (16 page)

She nods, saying. “Yeah, we both have exhausted our love answers. Now, we start over, again. I do not want to fight with any more snakes, even baby ones. So, you answer the questions then drop, first. I’ll lag behind, using the first question and waiting for thirteen seconds, before answering. Our superb method worked, wonderfully, inside the green color tone.”

I nod, exhaling with great fear. My fear is a knife.

Chapter 16

Blue

I emerge into the blue colored auditorium for the first and last time, not smiling.

Duchie floats from the darkness, without fanfare, too.

The room is empty, except for us.

I do not have time to blink an eyelash.

The me-chee stands and raises his arms. “Welcome back to the Cubby Hole, teens! I hope you have enjoyed your fun in the sun. There is more fun to have inside the rest of the color tones. The respite has completed. Please sit back and relax into your assigned me-chee chair!” The green shields blink, covering the teens for the next round. The me-chee says. “Close your eyelids! I will present the next series of academic questions for your individual answers. The time limit is fifteen seconds for each posed question. To remind, each schooler, again, for clarity of a proper verbal response, please state, my answer is…then your vocal response. If you answer three-fourths, or more, of the academic questions, correctly, you will advance to the next color of blue. If you answer one-fourth, or less, you will remain stationary, inside the color tone of green. If you, incorrectly, answer two-fourths of the academic questions, then you will slip back into the color of red. The first question, what is the color tone of the me-chee, inside the Cubby Hole, presently?”

I say, quickly. “My answer is…blue.”

The me-chee says within my me-chee chair. “A game board has the color of blue, green, and red with two spinners. The probability of landing, the first spinner on the color of blue is 4/5. Within an independent event, the probability of landing, the second spinner on the color of blue is 1/7.

What is the probability that the first spinner lands on blue and the second spinner does not land on blue?”

I whisper. “The two events are independent. The product of the two probabilities is the answer. The first spinner is 4/5, provided in the question. The second spinner does not land on the color of blue is 1 – 1/7 = 6/7. Therefore, the probability equals the formula (4/5) times (6/7) = 24/35. My answer is…24/35.”

The me-chee says within my me-chee chair. “A farm is producing three different grains of corn, X, Y, and Z, which are mixed in the ration of 2:3:5, respectively, by weight. How many pounds of colored grain Y are in a 42-pound weight bucket of this grain?”

I exhale, sweating inside my palms, rubbing on my cat suit. I must finish answering my question, so I can drop, before Duchie, or we both face a forest of snakes, again.

I whisper. “The amount of the colored grain B is 3a. So, the equation is 2a + 3a + 5a = 42. So, 10a = 42 is a =4.2. Therefore, Y = 3a, or the product 12.6. My answer is…12.6.”

I view Duchie.

She wiggles side to side with nervousness, anticipating the next question, before her time limit to drop into the blue color tone, like me.

The me-chee says. “In a group of 27 teenagers, 65 percent possess brown eyes. Two teens are selected at random. What is the probability that neither teenager selected will have brown eyes?”

I exhale. “Too long, too hard, and too late, buddy. I got my 75 percent passing score. My answer is…one.”

I view Duchie.

She is moving her lips, answering the third question, too.

My me-chair turns blue within the shielding, when I smile.

The fabrics wrap around me then I drop into darkness, screaming.

Chapter 17

Blue room of mirrors

I emerge inside the white smoke, flowing over my tired and aching body, but active and clicking mind. I sit inside the me-chee chair, staring at the blue color wall.

I exhale with fear and relieve.

I’m here, but I’m not finished. I have to complete and compete with the knives, behind that wall, inside the final color tone of blue.

Duchie floats up from the floor, wiggling and giggling inside the chair. The fabric drops then she scoots out, dancing around her chair. “Get up and get out, Ketona! We are almost done! We made it into the blue color tone. I’m so excited and happy and…,” she frowns. “What’s wrong?”

I exhale, staring at the glowing blue wall. “I’m scared. This is my fear, knives. Inside the pink color tone, the knives were hidden inside the bush plants. I cut my hand.” I lift my hand, blazing in red and pink scabs, without a proper healing.

Duchie dances around Ketona and her me-chee chair. “I’ll protect ya. Get up, girl! Let’s end this thing, now, right here! I’m getting hungry and tired, too boot!” She giggles.

I exhale, scooting out the chair then stand.

Duchie slams the blue wall with her hand, giggling.

I gasp with shock.

The park place is an enclosed room of mirrors. The ceiling, the floor, and other three walls are all reflective mirrors.

Duchie giggles, walking onto the floor. “Don’t see any knives! I see mirrors.” She waves at her reflection. “I see me. I don’t see ya, Ketona. Get inside, here! Let’s finish this, now. Will there be food trays of meats, vegetables, and cookies, inside the golden circle for our victory celebration? I hope so. I love chocolate things, like candy, cookies milkshakes…”

In the center of the room, there is a square-shaped wooden counter, without a machine or a person.

The room is quiet, without an animal sound or a ray of sun light.

I cross my arms over my breasts, feeling sick to my stomach. My guts hate this park place.

I slowly slide inside the room, over the smooth flooring of glass. I see the indentation under my chin and inside my hairy nostrils then view the side and forward wall of reflective mirrors with big puzzlement.

My boot toes and heels march forward, without sound or rhythm, inside the quiet room.

Duchie breaks the silent. “Hey, come here, Ketona! I can see me. I mean, I’m seeing me, playing on the mirror, as a little girl, like about four years old.”

I dash to my left, where Duchie stands in front of the wall of mirrors. I narrow my eyelashes, studying the mirror. I see my crossed arms and steamy breath, but no pictures of Duchie. I say. “I don’t see anything, but me.” Duchie reaches for the mirror, when I slap her hand down. “Don’t touch it, Duchie. We gotta figure out, what the park place is, first. I got lots of creepy feelings and bad vibes from here. I don’t like, that it is, so quiet. There’s no sound. No hissing snakes. No singing birds. No croaking frogs. No flying insects. No happy music. No sad music. No dishes of food. No laughing teens. No annoying machines. What are we to do here for our thing?”

Duchie nods, back stepping from the mirror, but pointing at it. She moves along the wall of mirrors. “I am not fibbing, here. I see me. I am a little girl, riding my little tricycle. Now, I see me. I am an elementary child, popping the ball back into the crowd of other kids. Hey, I remember this. This is my real life. That scene, or picture on the mirror, is really me, I was in a grassy park in Dandine, during my birthday day…”

“Birthdays are very special, usually recorded and photographed.” I gasp, running to the opposite side of the room, then stop.

The second mirror shows me. I am five years old, riding a bicycle.

I gasp, “Duchie, come over, here! My personal childhood pictures are located on this mirrored wall. I’m five year old, during my birthday party. I see the cake, and the presents. I’m riding my new bicycle around the city street block, like I did, when I was five years old. That moment is, so clear inside my mind, now, on this wall.”

Duchie stands beside Ketona, gasping. “I don’t see anything, but my face. What’s going on here, Ketona?”

I touch my cat suit. “The cat suit is an electron field and is programmable, apparently. It detects our medical conditions and other encountered life forms, like the snakes, and has been programmed with our life teen history.” I shift to the next mirror. “The mirrors are slightly seamed. I see six different panels of mirrors, which probably contain my other birthday parties. I don’t like this. I don’t like it that the Cubby Hole has spied and recorded me, then tossed it upon the mirrors for everyone to see.”

Duchie walks beside Ketona, saying. “I can’t see it. I can’t see you, only me. I can’t see any events of your birthday parties. This is too weird! Let’s finish what we’re supposed to do and get outta of here.”

“Yeah, let’s finish this! Go back and start at the first mirror panel, too. I think that is the beginning of this vertical maze of mirrors. But, don’t touch the mirror. Let’s do a run-through, just watching the pictures then huddle with an idea.” I order, stomping at the intersection of the wall of mirrors and room of mirrors. I exhale with nervousness.

“Good plan!” Duchie jogs to the opposite wall corner between the wall of mirrors and the room of mirrors.

I stomp in front of the first mirror, smiling and saying. “Awe! My mama is in this moving picture inside the mirror with me. She is riding me, at the age of three years old, on both her kneecaps, lying on the floor. It was a fun game that we both played, together, until I was too big to lift up on her kneecaps, without damaging her tendons. I see my cake on the table and torn unwrapped birthday paper and scattered birthday presents on the floor.”

Duchie stands in front of the first mirror, smiling and saying. “My daddy’s in the mirror, too, with me. Awe! I am two years old. We are playing monster. He hides inside my darken bedroom on the floor then I run inside to find him. Then, he growls, like a tiger, for fun, at me. I squeal then run out the room, giggling, because I know that is my daddy. I, also, see my birthday cake and presents around the room.”

I stomp in front of the second mirror, saying. “I am five years old, riding my bicycle, or trying. This is my new birthday present...”

Duchie stands in front of the second mirror, saying. “I’m four years old, riding my tricycle, which was my birthday present, also, that year.”

I stomp in front of the third mirror, saying. “I am nine years old inside this particular mirror panel. Nine, five, three, these are all odd numbers. I wonder why. I am blowing out the flaming white candles on top of my big white and pink three layer birthday cake.”

Duchie stands in front of the third mirror, laughing. “I was ten years old, playing ball with my friends at my birthday party.”

I stomp in front of the fourth mirror, frowning with sadness. “Buffo is in this mirror with me. I am thirteen years old. He is kissing my lips, for the every first time, as boyfriend and girlfriend.” I wipe the tears from my face, wishing he was, here, with me, now.

Duchie stands in front of the fourth mirror, laughing. “I am twelve years old. I wanted a great big fire on my cake, so I implanted great big candles. The ones were used for decorating around the house, about six inches tall. The cake and frosting exploded into a great big red and yellow fire ball. My daddy had to douse it with the water hose.” She laughs, moving to the fifth mirror. “This is my first boy-girl birthday party. I was fourteen years old. I was not allowed to date a boy, or kiss a boy. But, we teens celebrated my birthday fun, inside the basement, that night, without the parents.” She sniggers.

I stomp to the fifth mirror, saying. “I’m fifteen years old, dancing with Buffo at my party, again.” I exhale with more sadness.

Duchie stands in front of the sixth and last mirrored panel. “I’m sixteen years old, here. I got a very old and ancient used truck for driving to school. It worked about every other day, but I got to school and then got to home…”

I stomp into the sixth and last mirror, dropping my mouth. “Payne Mountain, Buffo and I are on top of the mountain, after my birthday party, that afternoon.” I curl my fists, scanning the ceiling of mirrors, growling. “How do they know of this precious moment in my precious life? I’m seventeen years old on that day.”

Duchie turns and smiles, bouncing and slapping onto the wooden counter. “All the mirror panels are good happy events upon the wall. They’re pictures of me and my family, celebrating my birthday, a happy time. Ya see this is the celebration of our short sweet seventeen years. We’re done and have completed and conquered the Cubby Hole and Citizenship Day. Yay! Hurrah!” She tosses her arms, dancing around the counter, smiling and humming with victory.

I stand and stare at the moving pictures of my past birthdays, inside the wall of mirrors, frowning with worry. “Some of the mirrors are not happy for me. I don’t know, if we are done, here, Duchie. What were the ages of your person inside each mirror?” I swing around, dashing towards the counter in the center of the mirrors.

Duchie stares at the moving pictures. “I was four, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, and sixteen years old.”

I view her. “I was the odd numbers of three, five, nine, thirteen, fifteen, and seventeen. I don’t like, that they didn’t use the same years for the both of us.”

“What do we do, now? I say we slide back into the me-chee chairs and go back into the Cubby Hole.”

“Naw, there’s a forward wall, where our mirror panels intersection. The mirrors are not playing any happy scenes. As a matter of fact, the mirrors are reflecting our true life images.” I finger the wall. “This is a psychology game, Duchie. We still have not encountered my fear, the knife. So, there’s something behind the mirrored wall.”

Duchie exhales with worry, swinging and staring at two sets of mirrors. “Let’s go and get this done!” she walks towards the mirrored wall.

The wall is split into two walls for two schoolers, participating in the Cubby Hole.

We walk side by side then stand slightly apart in front of the mirrors.

The mirror smokes in black color then changes into an image of me. The image wears my sliver cat suit, where I, first, entered the auditorium inside the Cubby Hole. The image is not animated or moving, like the side walls of mirrors, displaying my childhood pictures.

I exhale. “I don’t like this.”

Duchie says. “I guess, we touch the mirror and see what happens, or we stand here until, something doesn’t happen.”

I frown at her nose profile. “Ya got a lousy set of encouraging words, girl.”

“I’m scared, shaking, and quivering with tons of fear feelings. Ya be lucky that words came out my mouth, instead…”

“Okay, we touch the mirror. Wait! Is it going to turn into a knife or something sharp representing a knife?”

Duchie winks at Ketona. “Only if, you touch it and find out. Okay, we touch with the right index finger the mirror on the count of four…”

I frown at her. “Why, the number four?”

“I like to think, differently, from everyone else. Okay, four!”

I exhale, slowly pacing along with Duchie. I touch the mirror with my shaking right index finger.

The mirror vanishes into white smoke, when I yelp, then back pedal from the smoke.

I halt, narrowing my eyelashes, seeing darkness inside an interior room.

Then, a light shines in the far distance as I gasp with fear.

I exhale, holding out my left hand.

Duchie grabs it, squeezing my fingers, painfully.