Chapter 8
Aiden
Really, what was I expecting?
Standing outside of the chemical lab is a little surreal. All of its outer walls are still standing, but glancing down the alley to the side of the building, I can see the charred black where I estimate Dr. Little’s rented room was. There’s a surprising number of people around, many of them just passersby who are stopping to stare. There are a few police officers near the entrance, some having discussions with a couple of people not in uniform - owners of the building maybe. The perimeter is blocked off with black and yellow caution tape. I approach with some hesitation, and one of the more idle officers notices me and walks my way.
“The lab’s closed,” she tells me with a very dismissive tone.
“I know, um… I was actually here when the fire broke out yesterday. I, uh, left some of my stuff in one of the lockers and was hoping to see if I could try to get it back?” Not a complete lie.
She frowns and sighs and I have a feeling I’m not the first person who has tried to get in and snoop. “Wait here,” she tells me.
She steps away to have a brief discussion with a couple of the officers, the three of them all turning to look at me from afar. In the end a different person joins me - a bearded, friendlier-looking man. “Come with me,” he says, lifting the caution tape up so that I can duck underneath it.
We go inside and the intense smell of the smoke and burnt chemicals is nauseating, though I guess nothing truly toxic burned up if they’re letting people come in here without hazmat suits. It looks like the firefighters were able to douse the flames before they spread across the whole building, so the entire right side is eerily empty but intact. I lead the officer to the left.
“If you were near where the fire broke out then you might be out of luck,” the policeman remarks.
“I’m not sure if I was,” I say. This one is a complete lie. “I think I was close but it’s all a bit of a blur…”
“I’ll bet.”
My anxiety rises as we go down the hall, uncomfortable memories rushing back. I look for the familiar white door to the lab room but then suddenly realize that there is no door at all.
“Not something you see every day, is it?” the policeman says as I slow down to peek inside the very obvious scene of the incident. My heart sinks to my stomach.
Everything is in shambles. I can’t even make sense of what’s what - it’s all twisted metal and piles of charred rubble. I think the fire reached some kind of chemical in the cabinets that eventually caused an explosion. Part of the ceiling is caved in, one wall is mostly destroyed, and I see sunlight peeking through a crack in the other wall. There’s more caution tape and the room is clearly mid-investigation, even if it’s empty right now.
“Kinda spooky, right? Apparently someone died in there.”
My heart now leaps up to my throat and my shoulders stiffen. I wasn’t expecting him to announce something like that so plainly. “That’s awful,” I say tightly.
“Sure is. And the weirdest part is that no one knows who he was or what he was up to,” the officer continues in a low, conspiratorial voice. “He was real dodgy and secretive about his experiments, apparently. And now that everything’s destroyed I guess we’ll never really know what he was doing. Apparently something dangerous since it caused a fire.”
What the hell is wrong with this cop? Isn’t this, like, classified information or something? I wonder in a moment of panic if he’s playing mind games with me for some reason, but from what I’ve been gathering about his demeanor… it feels like this guy might just not be very bright.
I try to stay cool while taking advantage of getting potential information, matching his detached tone, “Really? Was this the only place he ran experiments?”
“See, that’s the thing!” He leans in a bit closer, looking excited about sharing the gossip, “No one knows! He used a fake address and fake qualifications when reserving this place, and nobody knows who was sponsoring him. It’s all a big mystery. Real weird stuff.”
“Weird,” I agree, all the while my eyes still searching the destroyed room for any sliver of hope. I find none.
“Anyway, if you work here then I’m sure you’ve already been questioned about it…?” He’s looking at me expectantly and I suddenly realize that he has been trying to wheedle gossip out of me.
“Oh, I’m just a student,” I respond plainly. The officer gets very quiet after that.
Nearby are the lockers, and while half of them still look pretty intact, the ones that Evie and I had used are in the half that got caught in the blast and now looks like the blackened remains of a campfire. So much for that.
I decide after I leave the lab that there are a couple of different errands I should run, so I head back to my apartment building’s garage to get my car. I stop by the bank to request a new credit card. I replace my old phone. I get a temporary driver’s license at the DMV. Meanwhile my mind is a million miles away.
As I sit in the car after what feels like a long morning, I wonder if I should stop by a store for supplies before heading home. I try to think of what Evie might need. She specifically declined my offer to find her doll clothes to wear; it seems kind of rude to ignore her and get them anyway. I can’t think of what else to do for her… I’m feeling really helpless again and my mind starts to spiral…
What am I going to say to her when I get home? It’s been dead end after dead end. Who am I kidding, I’m completely in over my head. There was never a chance that I could fix this on my own. I’m starting to think there might not be anyone who can fix this.
I slump over the curve of the steering wheel, letting my head hang in defeat. I decide to head back to her. It’s almost lunch time anyway.
One short car ride later, taking a quick detour to stop at a taco place so that I don’t have to cook, I get back to my apartment. There’s a flutter of nerves in me as I approach the door - I hope my small friend has been okay on her own.
But my fears were unfounded. I step inside and look towards the desk at the opposite wall, immediately seeing movement on it. I smile as I notice how quickly her little legs are moving… it looks like she’s running out to greet me. That feels really good, at least.
“Hi! It’s getting close to lunch time,” I call out to her as I set my stuff down and slip my shoes off, “Not too hungry?”
I realize my mistake as soon as her voice reaches my ears - she’s yelling loud enough for me to hear her but not quite enough that I can make out the words.
“Sorry, I’m an idiot,” I laugh as I approach the desk, “What did you say?”
“I said I probably have enough food to last all day,” she responds, motioning to the spoon that still has some of today’s breakfast on it.
“Right, I guess I still need to figure out portions. Better than too little I guess?”
“Oh totally, you don’t see me complaining.”
She’s giving me a wide smile and for a second I’m once again overtaken by the cuteness of her size. She looks like a little toy… Though I’m getting better at catching myself at least and I quickly move on.
I notice as I take a seat that a few things have changed on the desk since I left. The shrunken items have all been unpacked, and while most of them are still organized in piles off to the side, it’s like she created little stations for herself too. There’s a chair and table with some books of various sizes stacked onto it, the toiletries are all next to her water source, and anything edible is on its own smaller table by the comparatively massive lamp.
It’s so surreal, seeing this miniature camp easily fitting on the surface of my desk. I’m glad to see that she hasn’t just been wasting away in misery while I was gone. I find myself endeared to her industrious nature.
“You must really like Magic: The Gathering.”
“Huh?” I look back at her again, confused.
“Your shirt,” she says with a teasing smile, pointing towards my chest, “You were wearing a Magic shirt yesterday too.”
“Oh.” That’s right, we had bonded yesterday over card games. Right before our lives changed irrevocably. “I didn’t even realize… You know, I own exactly two Magic shirts. Apparently thought it’d make a good first impression to wear them back to back.” I laugh, a little embarrassed. “I promise I like other stuff.”
“Uh huh. Likely story.”
I grin at her, enjoying this procrastination before we get into what I was up to this morning. But then, due to us talking about clothes, I suddenly notice that Evie’s wearing something new.
It takes me a second to figure it out, but she’s somehow used one long strip of gray fabric to tie around herself, looping over each shoulder and around her torso, and knotted off at the hip to make a rudimentary dress. She definitely looks way more comfortable than she did in that hospital gown thing. I idly wonder where she got the strip of fabric until my eyes fall onto the one other thing that’s different since I’d left.
While half of my office supplies have gradually migrated to my bedroom, the other half is still here on the desk, on the opposite side from where I’d set up Evie. She’s dragged over every bit of fabric from the miniatures into a pile here… Right next to a pair of scissors. A pair of pointy, wide open scissors leaned up against a stapler, a heap of gray fabric still half draped over the sharp metal…
I can feel the color draining from my face as I imagine her miniature frame leaning over the comparatively gigantic blade. “Um, Evie,” I say faintly, “Please don’t tell me you used those scissors.”
Her demeanor changes as her eyes widen and she clasps her hands in front of her. “Was I not supposed to?”
“Are you serious? Th-that’s so dangerous!”
I didn’t raise my voice by much, but it really doesn’t take much, and the tiny girl’s stepping backwards now, shying away as her own voice wavers, “I-I was being really careful. I h-have experience with woodworking a-and building stuff, s-so I just… I thought I could…”
Ah, shit. I’m scaring her. I try to shrink back in my chair and appear less intimidating, taking a steadying breath to relax the muscles in my face. I remind myself that she’s safe, nothing happened, but my heart is still racing as I can’t help imagining the very different scene I could have walked in on if her hand had slipped while cutting the fabric. I feel like a parent who just found their toddler wandering around next to a swimming pool. Which, to be fair, isn’t a very respectful thought.
I lower my voice again and try to sound gentler. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be patronizing or anything. You’re an adult, I’m sure you’re fully capable, but… but accidents happen. I wouldn’t know how to help you if…” I trail off, unable to complete the sentence.
Evie slowly nods, still looking at me fearfully. She doesn’t say anything.
I try to force a smile. “You can let me know if you need help with something like that, okay? If I nick myself all I’d need is a bandaid.”
Her gaze drops down to the desk as she nods again. Her silence is killing me, but then finally she mutters something.
“Sorry?” I ask, leaning in.
She takes a deep breath and raises her head, summoning her resolve. “I just want to be able to… to do things myself. I don’t want to bother you every time I need something.”
“What? It’s not a bother at all.”
Her gaze drifts down again. “It’s a bother to me…”
I watch her for a moment, trying to find the right words. For being the larger person, I sure have been feeling a whole lot of helplessness lately. I know this entire thing is a bigger conversation. One that ties into what we needed to discuss anyway…
A wave of sadness passes through me. I want to keep putting this off. I want to go back to bantering about breakfast lasagna. I want to actually get to know her. To keep her for a little longer.
But it’s time to face the music.
“I think… we need to talk.”