The Seventh Day
“Now…here are the rules.”
With great ceremony, Mr. Daze pulled a large sheaf of papers out from his tweed coat. He appeared to read them for a moment, then looked up at us and grinned.
“There are none!”
He tossed the papers aside, giggling.
“Do whatever you like here. All of our varied facilities are open for your full enjoyment. There are no restrictions, regulations, or laws. I encourage you all to go wild! You may need to, for what comes—”
“Amos, stop that! We want them to have some surprises, don’t we?”
A striking woman in a green business suit made her way onstage. Mr. Daze’s leering smile grew even wider as he gave her a deep bow.
“Hello, dears,” she said. “I’m Miss Lilith, another co-facilitator along with Amos.” She nodded toward Mr. Daze, who nodded back. A hulking brute shambled out to stand behind her. She reached up and patted him on the shoulder, as one would a good pet.
“This is our caretaker and groundskeeper Bubba. He’s here to make sure that you all stay safe and enjoy yourselves.”
The groundskeeper loomed over us and as a group we leaned back. Bubba was built like a mountain, with a brow carved from stone, shoulders as wide as cliffs, and fists like small boulders.
“I’m sure Mr. Daze, here, has explained the rules or lack thereof,” Miss Lilith continued smoothly. “You must take care not to get lost, for in this kingdom there are so many diversions.”
“Remember,” Mr. Daze added, “Do whatever you like. There are no rules—”
“Except one,” a loud voice interjected from behind us.
We all turned toward the back of the chamber. A tall man was leaning against the wall, arms folded, his top hat tilted at a rakish angle. He wore a deep red suit that tapered off into long coattails, matching pants, and a silken cravat. When he had all of us staring at him, he smiled. The bright whiteness of his teeth contrasted oddly against the deep black of his pointed goatee.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Hello!”
He chatted amiably and without pause as he walked toward us.
“It’s so lovely to see new faces about the place. So nice and refreshing. Of course, nowadays one gets so many visitors, it’s difficult to maintain the quality of the close, personal care that we strive to provide for every soul here. Yet we struggle on. Every case is handled with the utmost nicety and precision so we can ensure that all of you receive exactly what you deserve, and none of you ever, ever, want to leave.
“We do what we can, though, being understaffed as we are, I wonder if it’s enough? I maintain the faint illusion that it is. Whatever the case may be, I welcome each and every one of you, and hope that you will be satisfied with our service.”
The crowd parted instantly as he made his way through, and leapt lithely onto the stage. Miss Lilith, Mr. Daze, and Bubba rushed forward and shook his hand with enthusiasm.
“My name,” he began as he turned to look down on us, “is Mr. Lucas.”
We waited for him to continue.
“I am what you might call the…proprietor of this establishment. Many of you are, no doubt, somewhat surprised at what you’ve seen so far. You may be thinking that this isn’t at all what you were expecting. Well, all I can say is that times change and we must change with them. No endless pushing boulders up hills, beds of thorns, or water out of reach for you folks! No eagles eating your liver. Nix the fire and the brimstone as well! This entire land is here for your use and enjoyment. As Mr. Daze and Miss Lilith have already imparted to you, there are no rules…”
He paused, and his shining eyes turned upward for a moment, as if in prayerful contemplation.
“…except one.
“One tiny rule. Very slight. Almost inconsequential, really. It won’t inconvenience you in any way. It is so miniscule it might as well not even exist…if not for the fact that it does.”
Mr. Lucas paced back and forth across the stage. The gaze of his associates followed him as he moved, their eyes glowing as if nothing else existed in the room.
“You see, we run things on a weekly schedule here. A very old, very traditional schedule. One that you might find very familiar. As I have mentioned, your first six days you shall be free to do what you like; work, play, create an entire world of pleasures for yourself. Yet on the seventh day-” he paused and drew a breath “-on the seventh day, you shall…rest.
“We require everyone, the entire population to have a lie-in on the seventh day. You will accompany any one of the staff to the place we call simply the Room. There you will rest for 24 hours, and the next morning re-emerge ready for a new week of fun! That is our one requirement, our one stricture. It is unavoidable, but also, as I think you’ll find…inconsequential.”
The crowd began muttering, mostly in tones of relief.
“Well, there you have it, dear guests. Now, if there is nothing more to say, I ask that you exit out the doors so that we may begin.”
He gave two sharp claps and the curtains against the far wall fell away, revealing a gateway made in the likeness of a gigantic clown’s head. I could hear the clinking chains as its gaping mouth opened to receive us, the rows of teeth parting in a wide grin, the drawbridge extending like a tongue. As I walked toward it, I noticed a small bit of graffiti on the clown’s cheekbone. Written in pink spray paint, it read, “Abandon Hope, All—”
But before I could finish, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Miss Lilith gave me small push forward and waved as the clown’s mouth closed between us. I turned and looked out at the path that led to Mr. Lucas’s menagerie. They say that this road is paved with good intentions, but I saw only billboards for strippers and beer.
I took one step. Then another. And another. With each step, the next grew easier and soon I was running. The carnival’s alluring melody and dancing lights beckoned and I, a foolish moth, was drawn to its flames. Was I burned? Many of the details have faded with the passing of dreams. But not all. Like the ash and smoke from a long ago fire, some memories still linger.
As with a rollercoaster ride, my descent started slowly, then quickly became a plunging thrill ride where I began delving into things never dreamt of in my darkest imaginings. Is this really what everyone was so afraid of? I wondered, Look at my fellow sinners, they’re happy. They can’t stop smiling, like the grins were stapled to their goddamn faces.
On the sixth day, I learned that not everyone smiled.
While in a pub, I noticed a man sitting alone, staring listlessly into his mug. He stood out because he was the only one not laughing at the top of his lungs. No crazed smile was grafted onto his wizened mouth, and his eyes looked more tired than excited. I stumbled over and, in a slurred voice, asked him why he wasn’t partaking in the festivities. He gave me a look of such mute horror and abject hatred that I flinched.
“You truly know nothing,” he croaked. “You have no idea. But you will. You all will. Wait. Wait until the end of the week. Ask me after the seventh day—”
A chorus of angry shouting erupted from the rest of the bar. It was as though the others had taken off masks and something terrible beneath was laid bare. They began pummeling him savagely. I ran, scared they might take their anger out on me. However, a little while later, the old man found me and beckoned me to follow him.
“They won’t say anything. They won’t tell you,” he whispered. “They do it to themselves every week, trying to forget. But that only makes it worse. They never can forget, they never will. And they don’t want any of us to talk of it with the new ones either. For misery loves company, so it is said, and no one is as miserable as we are. During my first week I once thought as you did. I was a fool. There’s always a price, boy, always! And I found out, and I’ve paid. I’ve paid and will go on paying until Judgment Day. Do you know what real hell is?”
However I was not to learn the answer to his question until tomorrow. Before he could continue, a voice behind us asked: