chapter 3

This might be some sort of mistake. Or a dream.

The behemoth just five meters ahead of us—the one we find unrealistic—is a dilapidated edifice stretching from one side of the woods to the other. We can’t see the other end as it was heavily enshrouded with coconut-looking trees—which we all agreed to call “cocohair trees”—from the windows and cracks, but memory-wise, we might know how massive it is.

The cry that we’ve heard—and still going on—is of a fire alarm. It’s still functional and noisy despite the stature of the building.

I was about to tell everyone to be cautious in approaching it when Chevonne, again, sprinted off towards the main facade, entering through the wide-open main entrance. Shards of glass littered the threshold where glass doors should have been. We followed suit to avoid losing sight of her.

The sound finally ceased. She might have turned it off already.

We tiptoed our way in awe as we entered the main gate—ironically, without the gates themselves—and proceeded through the main entrance cautiously. We examined each run-down furniture and ceiling with ancient-looking cobwebs and vines that slithered their way through the cracks and holes of the walls, which were covered by some antediluvian-ish niter. Each step we take elicits a cloud of dust and pollen that were mixing in the air. A pungent smell smeared the atmosphere, crinkling our noses as we try to verify the facts about this farce. I do believe everything here is a farce.

“Chevonne! Where are you going!” I shouted up the main staircase where we last saw her went through, which is almost crumbling.

“I’m going to check something upstairs.”

“Be careful with your steps. The stairs look so old and it might give way with your weight,” I replied without thinking, immediately regretting it. “No, that’s not what I mea—”

“Is that your way of calling me fat?” Chevonne screamed back with her head protruding from the small gap between the U-shaped staircases. She’s already farther up the third floor.

“No, just as what I’m about to tell you, that’s not what I meant! I’m telling you that this building is old-enough to crumble any minute from now!”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy. Don’t worry about me. I know the way.”

“Yes, of course, all of us here know the way if this is what I think it is! Just be cautious!”

“Stop with your whining! I told you, I’ll be back in a minute!” She screamed with much effort and louder than earlier, pulling her head in. Are we fighting? I know I should be worried about it because our friendship is in the line, but I can't just help thinking that we kind of look like a couple that was having an argument.

“No. We’ll go there, so wait for us.” I weakly responded, which I doubt reached her.

No reply. Damn. She might have gone to the next floor already.

Finlay suddenly popped out of nowhere, holding something that looks like human bones. “Cher, are these real?”

I snatched it away from him and scrutinized the structure. I can't really tell if it's authentic. Chevonne could lend us a hand here if she only did not hurriedly go up the stairs.

That woman.

Well, I can't afford to get mad at that new attitude she has shown earlier. It's another type of her being cute and all.

“Where did you find it?” I simply asked.

"There, near the elevator. There's also a lot of them inside and a handful of dust around."

We trudged through the underbrush that somehow found their way in up until we reached the elevator. I shot my head inside and noticed different leafy plants sprouting from the cracks and holes of the once-functioning lift. The bones are not difficult to find as they are all piled up in one place at the corner. Some are even pulverized, reducing it to a grain of sand, which Finlay called dust, around the pile. They don’t look human bones, so it may be from the animals around here who made this building their home.

We checked the other areas of the first floor and found out that there's a hundred square meters of open space full of underbrushes and overgrowths with some rubble that might have been a part of the ceiling before, leaving a big hole where we can see right through the roof of the next floor. As we went in, we stomped through things that have cracked in which I found oddly satisfying. Finlay scooped up something from my tracks and held it out for me to see. I quickly snatched it from him and kneeled to the ground to check the place where he got it.

God, another pile of bones.

After checking the wide space, just making sure that it is really what I think it was, we immediately climbed upstairs and skipped the second floor. The staircase is slightly crumbling; some pieces of cement were detaching off the steps as we move on even with how slow and careful we make it to be. We reached the third floor, and I immediately noticed that the ceiling here is quite high compared to the first floor which I find very strange and invalidating. All rooms here were not tall enough to reach the ceiling: they only reached up until the middle part of the wall, leaving a lonely chasm from there up to the ceiling.

This is not correct. It does not fit in the puzzle at all.

We walked through the lobby wherein we saw a lot of rubble obstructing the rooms, except the first one adjacent to the main staircase which we approached and checked.

There’s no roof in this chamber.

It might have collapsed long time ago, leaving it wide open where we can see right through the high ceiling. Finlay went inside first who almost shoved me aside to check and pick things randomly in which I believe have something to do with him. The curves of his mouth went up in a melancholic way and he quickly stashed the object—which looks like an unsuspicious palm-sized piece of wood—in one of the pockets of his gray trousers. His uniform looked more worn the more we stretch this farce that we’re investigating, looking for some clues that might give answers to our questions.

This building is a big mystery to us even if it’s nowhere relevant in contacting someone outside the island, but somehow, deep within us, we’re hoping that we can find something helpful here.

We forced ourselves into the other rooms that were obstructed with some rubble, only solidifying my assumptions of this edifice.

However, the superfluous high ceiling is something that invalidates the clues that we’ve amassed so far. If that’s the case, then how else is this different?

We went back to the main staircase when something fell from above—almost hitting Finlay.

“Oh my... That was close!” He exclaimed while holding his chest in surprise, crumpling his sorry-looking uniform, causing some fabric to rip apart. It’s too unimportant for him to notice, though.

It’s a big chunk of rubble. It’s really deadly considering how big it is—much more on how high the ceiling it fell from above. I’d be in a bigger problem if that rubble hit Finlay. I could be imprisoned for not looking after my student’s welfare.

The problem is, did it really fall from the ceiling?

“Come here, Finlay. You’re such a lucky kid. From now on, I’m going to call you Lucky Kid. Seems like Lady Luck is on your side today,” I replied with a pretentious monotonous tone. I tried sounding indifferent as to avoid him having ideas that I care for him. It could be something that will haunt my conscience my entire life.

He dared to pick the rubble, and he put it up in the air, hovering it near his right eye with the other one closed—like a sniper would do to lock on his target. I sighed and humored the kid for a while. I sat on the third step of the staircase and placed my left elbow on my thigh, holding my head between my left palm and cheek. I felt like a father watching over his growing child.

“Cher! Come here, I found something really interesting!” He reported joyfully while still locked on his imaginative target.

“Oh? What could it be? Is it an alien, or your doppelganger? If it’s the latter, then that would be a big problem,” I sighed.

"No, cher, it's something that will make you believe that this building is what we really think it is!"

Now, that information—may it false or not—got me on my feet real fast. I approached him and asked impatiently what he could be meaning about.

“This rubble is a perfect fit on that edge there. Look at the middle wall.” I followed where he was pointing at and noticed some odd edges on the mid-wall.

Hey, that’s something new. So it didn’t really fall from the ceiling.

I went straight to the right wall and assessed the rough edges of the remaining cement attached to the mid-wall. A realization hit me fast enough that it can throw me off my footing if it was a punch. I went back to the staircase and climbed up until the next landing before curving to another set of steps that were nowhere to be found. The whole thing surely has collapsed, cutting the remaining access to the next floor. I turned and looked at the rough edges just above the destroyed steps to find out that they were aligned to the rough edges across from the wall. I sat on the edge of the now-a-cliff landing while I dangled my feet in the glory of fitting the puzzle pieces altogether.

There used to be a floor in the middle.

It does not have a high roof at all—we’re inside a merged two floors wherein the fourth one has totally collapsed to the third floor, making it look like a spacious two-story with a high ceiling. In other words, the fourth floor is nonexistent anymore. Now, it makes a lot of sense why there are lots of rubble dotting the decrepit ground below.

I was ecstatic about my achievement that I almost forgot about Chevonne.

“Hey, Lucky Kid, where do you think teacher Chevonne has gone? Seems like we are already on a dead-end,” I stupidly asked, expecting a child to answer something that even I can’t figure out.

“So, is this really the building, cher? If so, teacher Chevonne might have used the fire exit to go up to the fifth floor.”

Well, seems like he’s being smart today.

† † †

We soon removed all the pieces of rubble that were blocking the fire exit in the far corner of the lobby. It took an amount of time for us to do so because eighty percent of the work was mostly done by me while Lucky Kid barely even carried some off of the way.

It just made me realize that if Chevonne has gone through this way, then surely it would be free of any debris, right? How come I keep on asking questions recently that are nowhere near being answered? Oh, damn, a question again. Anyway, I finally got tired of thinking and just went through the door. Lucky Kid followed suit.

We got to the fifth floor with no sweat. Clearing the fire exit is the most cumbersome so far ever since we've arrived in this building. The whole floor brought a nostalgic smile on my face. We shouted Chevonne's name countless times without a single reply. Lucky Kid lurched aside as a big chunk of cement fell off from the ceiling—Lady Luck still did not leave him—leaving a hole big enough for us to see the stratus clouds up the sky dipped in rich marmalade. It's almost night time. It would be a huge problem for us—for me—if we would not be able to find Chevonne sooner.

We quickly searched the rooms full of rubble and cracks and vines and cobwebs and molds and everything that was surely not nice. No signs of her. Where could she be? I remembered something out of the blue that this building might have after checking the last room in which I can’t get off of my mind.

"Lucky Kid! wait here. I'll check the rooftop if she's there." I shouted, audible enough to be heard on the whole floor. Hopefully, he heard it. The last thing I want to happen right now is him getting rained by pieces of rubble or getting eaten by a wild animal secretly lurking around.

Without waiting for his reply, I lurched back to the fire exit and continued my climb to the rooftop. The area is full of limbs of plants and vines and leafy greeneries that I’ve never seen before. There were some smaller versions of cocohairs as well and holes big enough for me to pass, or so to say, fall through. I’ve searched every nook of the area, and there, in the farthest corner of the rooftop, almost at the edge while barring the luminous sunset in which cast her silhouette in thousand-degree of pulchritude—without a doubt—is Chevonne.

She looks stunning even with just her silhouette.

“Why were you not answering our calls? I don’t doubt you can hear us here,” I called out.

“Sorry for that, and thank you for finding me,” She simply replied with a side of a smile. I noticed that she’s sweating quite a lot.

“So? What were you doing up here?”

“Something that I must do.”

“Mind sharing it? ‘Cause for me you looked like you've run a mile.”

“In due time. You will eventually know it.”

“Oh? Is it something like my secret? Maybe you’ve contacted God here to save us?”

“That’s for you to guess.”

“We’re playing a guessing game now? Never thought of you being like that.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

“No, just want to clarify some things here. No, let me try again. I want to clarify everything here.”

“But why do you sound so irritated and impatient?”

“Look, Chevonne. Don’t get me wrong with this. I’m not irritated about you. I’m not irritated by you. I’m just really—super—tired of all the things that have been happening. We walked for hours thirsty and hungry hoping to find some locals and get off this island as soon as possible, which might have been uninhabited in the first place, only to end up here which complicates our situation much more than how it is already. But then again, don’t get me wrong about that. There’s something inside of me that makes me happy I’m trapped on this island with y—I mean—the three of us.” I replied defensively without thinking properly. What am I saying now? This is the longest that I’ve uttered to her ever since. Maybe it’s all due to the fatigue that’s creeping its way. “But not really happy that we’re stranded. It’s just that I—anyway, don’t mind it. On the side note, how were you able to come up here? All the passages were completely blocked, if not accessible.”

There’s a long pause which might indicate that she’s thinking how she’s going to answer me with all the things I’ve said, before calmly saying: “See that hole there? I went through that using quite a handsome of sturdy debris, piling them up on each other until it’s enough for me to reach the edges, and I lifted myself all the way through.”

I’m kind of relieved she only answered my last question. I hope she does not mind the rest that I’ve said.

“Now, that’s quite creative of you. Ingenious, if I may choose my word correctly.”

“That’s an English teacher for you.”

"And that's a Science teacher right there standing in front of me. Would you attempt to explain what happened here? Or what's happening with us? Seems like you know the answer with that look on your face when you came rushing in here. If you were to ask me though, it's a total farce. This is just too impossible for me to believe," I started again. What's happening with me? I'm starting to lose my cool. I know I'm tired of all this bullshit already and just want to go back home and sleep for a week, but I need to cool my head and be rational, especially in front of her.

“But we're here, right? We can see it. We can feel that everything here is real.”

“Then, would you care to tell me the truth? No need to hide everything now,” I egged on, bravely challenging her, risking the relationship that I’ve started to build.

“Again, all in due time. Believe me, you will eventually know it.”

I now regretted what I've said. She is on another level. The way she kept the conversation pleasantly and calmly made me feel more desperate that can turn me into a fool the more I egg her.

It’s no wonder why I completely lost.

I tried to smile but failed miserably. I feel my pride slowly kicking in, but can’t do anything about it with how she talks with me and with these stupid feelings I’m keeping from her. I want to treasure it more, so I just kept my mouth closed and accepted my defeat.

Minutes have passed before I noticed the whole area being coated with atomic tangerine with a kiss of velvet hue whooshing over the horizon—romantic enough for a confession.

Finally, a perfect opportunity for me to confess.

I approached her closer and gave a successful but awkward smile in which I believe is the best I can do with all the things I've said. The smile she sent back pierced through my heart in a way that made me feel I am being pitied. It's the smile that my then-friends gave me when I was still a little boy after I was scolded heavily by my father in front of them about the failing grades I've received during our card-giving day.

I’ve backed up a little bit and felt ashamed of myself. Of all the things we’ve been through, why would I prioritize my confession over everything else now?

We’re in the wrong place and time. Maybe I’ll keep this by myself for a little while.

“Hey, let’s go down,” I’ve said after a moment, eating the words that I’m supposed to say. My manner of speech regressed to how I used to speak to her before.

We spotted Lucky Kid sitting on top of the remaining intact tables in a spacious room full of overgrown grasses and piles of rubble. The moss here is very thick and its smell is very strong. He waved as soon as he noticed us coming in. I've asked him where he has been while I was gone, and Chevonne asked why I kept on calling him Lucky Kid, which I comprehensibly explained to her, badly wanting her on my good side again.

“So, chers, what do you think of this building?” He asked the very question that I’ve been wondering all this time, which terrifies me now. It makes me think about the farce—it’s the conversation that I’ve had with Chevonne, not this building anymore—that I’ve done earlier on the rooftop with her.

"I still don't know everything about this island, but one thing I can assure you: this building is what we really think it is. I especially can't forget that table you're sitting on, Lucky Kid. How could I?" I simply replied while tracing my fingers on the beautiful twig patterns of the tabletop.

“Everything here is true, Finlay,” Chevonne added, mysteriously shooting a deadly stare at him which I must have misunderstood for something else.

Lucky Kid hopped off the table and with a childish smile unsheathed the piece of wood which I’ve seen him picked up from the first room we’ve checked on the third floor. “This is a piece of the cabinet project I’ve worked on when I was in year seven. See it here? There’s my name carved on it, still visible enough to read. It’s really amazing to see this once again.”

He offered the wood to me. It’s true. I can read his name on it. The three of us looked at each other and went to the last room I’ve checked earlier before I climbed to the rooftop. The two of them were in amazement at how some things are still in good shape here. I went to a table near the door looking for something. It’s still there. I picked it up and blew the dust off and cleaned the growing molds inside. The spoon was already gone, but I can’t still believe it survived.

It’s my coffee mug.

This edifice, without a doubt, is Arullina National High School.