The Cage - Chapter Three

I didn't get to posting any more chapters over my three day weekend - had Monday off. So here we go.

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The rain continued through the night and into the next morning. Maria walked the four miles from her park bench shelter to 179 Washington Street. This location was downtown, in the middle of the skyscrapers. She walked down the street, getting closer to the address. 399 Washington. 349. 299. 249. 199. 149. She stopped, and turned around. Where is it? she thought, for it was not there. There was no building, no space for a building, no nothing. It was a scam, she screamed in her thoughts. She sat down and leaned against a no parking sign, with her back to the street. The rain started to come down heavier, and Maria pulled her legs up to her chest and held them tightly, trying to keep warm.

Behind her, she heard a horn. A few moments passed, and she heard it again. Turning around, she saw a limousine parked across the street, with the number “179” blinking in lights in the window. She stared for a moment, and blinked. She looked around for several moments, but no one else was coming up to the limo, and it was not leaving. She slowly stood up and made her way across the street, walking up to the limo. When she approached, the door opened automatically. She stood confused for a minute, before stepping inside, with the door closing automatically behind her.

The compartment of the limousine was massive, and empty. Nobody else was inside. On a rack was a wide variety of snack foods and drinks, and Maria immediately started eating. She was so enthralled with the food that she barely noticed the car driving off, and at that very moment, she didn’t care. She hadn’t eaten this much food in the last month. Rich chocolate bars and other candied assortments, all of Maria’s favorites.

The windows of the limousine were very darkly tinted. After indulging on the sweets for several minutes, she tried to look outside, but couldn’t. All she saw was black. This worried her slightly, but her worry quickly dissolved as she went back to eating the food.

Twenty minutes later, the limousine came to a stop, and the door automatically opened. She stepped out to find that she was in a large inside parking area. Next to her limo were five other identical limos, all lined up in a row. In front of her a door was open, and the smell of a turkey dinner convinced her to walk through it. Inside the door were stairs, which she followed up several levels to the fifth floor, the first of the levels to have an unlocked door. She opened the door and peered down the hallway, seeing light and hearing voices coming from a room down the hall. She walked towards the door.

“And here comes the last of the six,” a voice from inside the room said as Maria appeared in the doorway. The voice was the same as she had heard on the phone the other day. In the room was a large conference room table. Around the table sat five other people. At one end sat an elderly gentleman, with unnaturally dark hair for his age. His weak body sat in a state of the art wheelchair, and his body was hooked up to tubes.

“Welcome, Maria,” his familiar scruffy voice said. “You can call me Mr. Boss.”

“Hello,” she said nervously, sitting down in the last empty chair at the opposite end of the table.

“Glad you could make it,” Mr. Boss said, smiling. “Now let’s get down to business. I am, first and foremost, a scientist. A psychologist to be exact. I am very interested to see how people act in certain situations. You are here to help me conduct an experiment on behavior. You are Group 2, the observing group. You will observe and analyze the behavior of those people who are in Group 1. You will write about what you see, and will report back to me on a daily basis. Group 2 contains six people, just like this group, and each of you will be assigned a specific person. Each day, for twenty-eight days, you will be given a sheet to fill out about your assigned person. You will need to pay close attention to his or her every movement and action. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What is this experiment for?” asked a man who was sitting at the table.

“Good question, Alan,” Mr. Boss replied. “I have been commissioned to do this study by The Psychology School here in town. The head of that school, Doctor Michael Kennerton, will be personally supervising much of this study. They will be affecting the experiment environment in several ways, and want to see how these changes affect behavior. They will be using this information in their school. This is very important to them.”

“Why are they using random people like us to observe, and not other more, psychological people?” asked Alan.

“I’m not sure,” Mr. Boss replied, with a puzzled look on his face. “But this is what they requested.”

“Seems a little odd, doesn’t it? A little fishy?”

“There is nothing fishy about The Psychology School. I attended it myself, nearly seventy years ago.”

“Well I’ve never heard of it.”

“Are you a psychologist?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay then. You will each be handsomely rewarded for your participation in this study, should you stay for the entire event so your results can be used by the school. Those of you who stay to the end will split a one hundred eighty million dollar jackpot.”

Everyone stared at him.

“I know what you’re thinking, but this is not a scam. I am an old man who can almost make out the light at the end of the tunnel. I have worked my entire life and haven’t spent very much of it, accumulating more money than I could have ever imagined or needed. I have given millions of my dollars to charities and other great organizations, including the school. I then decided to improve the lives of twelve individuals who were in less-than-desirable circumstances. You are some of those lucky individuals. However, I decided that you should have to work for your payday, but for a good cause. Any other questions?”

The room was silent. The six just stared at him, some of them with their mouths open, all in disbelief.

“I see,” Mr. Boss said. He reached forward and pressed a button on a telephone, and said, “Bring in the cash.” Two large men entered, carrying a long rectangular glass container. Inside was piles of money.

“One hundred eighty million dollars in cash,” Mr. Boss said. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said, and the two cash-carrying men left the room. “That is your prize,” he said, backing away from the table in his wheelchair. “Those who want a piece of the pie can pick up a contract from the table, sign it, and follow me. Those who don’t can leave. But you have five minutes,” he said, sitting a clock timer on the table that started ticking. “When this buzzer goes off, the door for this opportunity will be closed.”

He left the room. The six sat there for a few moments in silence. One by one, four of the other five, except George, stood up, signed a contract, and followed.

“This is crazy,” Maria said to herself in a whisper. “I am crazy. I must be,” she said, and she stood and followed the others, signed contract in hand.

George was reading the contract fervently. The text of the ten page document was small print and single spaced. The timer changed ticking noises, and George looked up to see there was thirty seconds left. He frantically read more of it. With fifteen seconds left, he swore and signed the contract, ending his reading at the second paragraph on the third page. He ran to catch up to the others.

The hallway was long and dark, going down at a constant angle. After walking for several minutes, they arrived in a large room, about the size of the average house’s foundation, which was exquisitely decorated with expensive looking art pieces. There was a large TV in one corner connected to a massive stereo system. The floors were dark wood, as was all of the expensive looking furniture. There was a pool table and a ping-pong table. Off to the side were sleeping rooms, one for the men and one for the women, each with three soft king-sized beds and an attached bathroom. There was an ornate dining room table next to a good sized kitchen, with a refrigerator that was well stocked with beer and wine. Hanging from the ceiling above the television was a camera. There were no windows in this room or the sleeping quarters, except one large window that showed into another smaller room, which was plainly painted in white.

“We spared no expense on this place,” Mr. Boss said. “It’s been used as living quarters for countless experiments over the years. Each of you has a bed over in the sleeping rooms with your name on it, made just the way you like it. Next to each bed is a table connected to a chute. Each day, new papers will be delivered, which will contain information about what will happen with the experiment on that day, so you know what to expect. It will also contain instructions about what to do for that day. You will only need to observe from 8-5 each day. Besides that, your time is your own. We will be able to see whatever goes on in the living quarters,” he said, pointing at the camera above the television. “Any questions?”

“Where is Group 1?” Alan asked.

“You will find out soon enough,” Mr. Boss answered. “You won’t be able to miss them.”

“Make yourself at home today, the experiment will begin in the morning. Food will be delivered for each meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, to the dining area. The bathroom and kitchen will be cleaned by our custodial staff on a daily basis. There is a phone next to each of your beds, dial 9 for a direct line to me. Feel free to ask any questions, anytime.”

And with that, he left.

Maria walked into the women’s sleeping area and found her bed. It was just the bed she’d always dreamed of – large, elaborate stained wood headboard and footboard with dark red sheets and comforter and a large white stuffed puppy. She lay down on the bed and nearly fell immediately to sleep. The bed was softer than anything she’d every slept on.

“Lunch,” came a voice from the main living area.

On the dining room table was a wonderfully smelling turkey dinner. The six of them sat down and began eating, nobody talking. Everyone else seemed to be as hungry as Maria was. After the main course came pieces of dark chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Twenty minutes later, everyone sat there full, hands on their stomachs, looking completely content. Across the table from Maria sat Alan, a thin man, without any hair.

“I suppose we should get to know each other,” he said. “Let’s go around the table and introduce ourselves, tell each other a little about ourselves.”

Nobody objected, so Alan continued.

“My name is Alan Axleby. I’m 25 years old, and am a pastor at a small local church. We are having severe financial problems, with a building that is falling apart and a congregation that is leaving, and I think this experiment is a blessing for us.” He turned to the woman next to him, a heavyset woman with a large white hat on her head.

“Hi, I’m Sally, Sally Feathers, and I’m a preschool teacher at a small school. I love kids, but have never had any of my own.”

“Hello,” said the next man, a muscular African American man with more biceps than he has uses for. “The name’s Bishop Riggs, and I’m a bouncer down at the local bar and strip club. Used to be a bodyguard, before I got too old and they forced me to retire.”

“George Henderson, and I’m a truck driver. All I do is drive.”

“Jendy Vorshank,” said the next lady, so skinny she appeared to be anorexic. “And I don’t do much.”

“My name is Maria Goldsmith,” Maria said, “and I’ve never been much of anything. I’m recently divorced, and don’t have a job. I’m hoping this payday will put me back on track and, most importantly, get my kids back.”

The other five seemed to nod in agreement. The rest of the day was spent in pleasant conversation, watching movies, playing games, or otherwise relaxing. At night, Maria lay her head down on the soft pillow and smiled. Everything’s gonna be okay, she thought to herself. I think I’m gonna like this place.