Stormy Trials

Mica felt a chill in her spine. Of course, she had to be chosen first for this. She couldn’t have been last, and gauge how hard she needs to try at the challenge. She would just have to swing at the challenge as hard as possible. The only thing to do was her best.

The host watched her with a smirk. Those pictures, the shadow, and the cat were on either side of her head. She ignored the left one and focused on the cat. After a restful sleep on the library chair, she remembered that the images on the right indicated the person's mood, and the left indicated her relationship with the person. That’s if she went off the host's words and that description. She confirmed this as best she could with everyone present in the hall. Deciphering them was going to be a bitch though.

“Hold on one Goddamn second.”

She jolted up a bit at the statement. Everyone around her had also started at the harshness of the words, including the host.

The host glared at the speaker, “Does the master have a comment to make?”

Mica turned, seeing that Dr. Haywood stepped off the stairs, “Quite. You want to challenge them for the amusement of others. There’s nothing I can do about that. I will accuse you of not giving them a fair shake and leaving the audience dissatisfied.”

The host bristled, and so did that cat, “Prey tell, how am I dissatisfying the audience? Rules are rules and have been explained.”

“This challenge is to test their will and bodies on difficult tasks, if I summarize correctly. It would not be much of an interesting show if they were in subpar conditions.” He stated.

The host bared her teeth, “Are you asking me to discard the transformations? You heard me before, and in writing too, they are part of the game.”

“I am not referring to the transformations.” He roared.

Mica felt stunned. She had never heard Dr. Haywood raise his voice in such a manner before. To get people's attention, yes. Not to shut down a line of inquiry.

Dr. Haywood took a deep breath, “While I ate a meal, I bet no one else had any. A hungry stomach weakens the mind and body's resolve. So I ask, have you fed anyone?”

“No.” The host said warily.

“If that’s the case, could they not have a bite to eat before you put them through the ringer?”

The host stood still while that cat paced slowly. Mica glanced around her. The tension felt like one sharp strike could shatter it into disaster.

The host finally grinned, “Of course, Master Thomas. We have a small meal for everyone before they turn to choose. And to keep it interesting, you will dine with each contestant before they go on stage. Interaction is priceless; therefore, this meal will cost nothing. Mica, you got fifteen minutes.”

The host snapped her fingers, and the butler whisked her and Thomas into the dining room for a table for two. She was seated with a breakfast plate laid before her. She wiped away a little drool at seeing the fluffy eggs and chopped chorizos with green onions. Glancing in front of her was Dr. Thomas Haywood with a small cup of tea. She took a bite of the dish in front of her. Everything was warm and had the perfect amount of time in oil and fat.

After a few bites, she glanced at her … benefactor. Best description she could think at the moment. Now that she and him were not five feet apart she could see the pictures much more clearly. The kettle, indicating Dr. Haywood’s mood, had not smoke or not even on a burner as far as she could tell. The book, that was the relationship indicator, she saw was Charlotte’s Web.

She furrowed her brow. She vaguely recalled a remark about that book, when she and Dr. Haywood were talking one day. She mentally shrugged. It surely would come to her if she did not press it now.

She broke the silence, “Dr. Haywood …”

He held up his hand, “Please, this is an informal situation. Thomas will do fine. May I call you Mica?”

She felt a bit flushed. “Thanks, but I would rather not.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself, Dr. Norwood. How are you doing?”

She answered between bites, “Dr. Haywood, I am fine under the circumstances. However, I did not need your assistance at all.”

He leaned forward, “Dr. Norwood, I’m aware of that. However, since we are in this mess because of me, I need to test the host's flexibility. Find out where she’ll let me help you out.”

“You mean everyone.”

“Of course.” He sighed and leaned back, “But as long as we are talking, can you answer me a question?”

Mica hesitated for a moment, “Maybe.”

He interlaced his fingers, “Why are you dressed in what looks to be your PJs?”

She sighed, “Julie kicked me out.”

“That seems unlike her. Do you know the reason?”

She gritted her teeth, “Ask her.”

He held up his hands in the surrender pose, “Ok, ok.”

He lowered his arms down, “How are you feeling about the upcoming trial?”

She finished the last bite, “I don’t know. Nervous definitely. I’m going to give my best shot, though.”

“Why is that?”

Mica paused for a moment. It wasn’t an unreasonable question. However, it was the tone of the entire conversation that put her out. It remind her of her own grandfather asking her how her day was. It was not T … Dr. Haywood’s fault. He was until yesterday as old as her grandfather was. The now much younger Dr. Haywood still had that tone in his voice, it made things … uncomfortable. Well, it be best to answer him like she did with her grandfather.

“If I am stuck in this game of reaction, I rather be at the front of it. Better to have as much control over the ingredients as possible.”

They were startled by a the door banging open.

“Well, that's a story you can tell yourself.” As the host strolled over to Mica, “Come on, we've got a challenge to do.”

Without another word she dragged Mica away.