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I’m still unsteady, making my way to the bathroom. As I take a shower, I need to lean on the tiled walls a couple of times. While I towel off, I take another stab at moving the cover from the mirror.
Either I’m still pathetically weak or there’s some trick that I’m just not seeing.
It feels strange to be cleaning my teeth without a mirror. I don’t even know what I’m doing, dragging a brush through my hair.
Back in the room, I find some underwear — cotton. Definitely not my taste. I pull on loose pants and a big tee-shirt.
I remember some yoga stretches. Even the easy ones take all the concentration I can muster. My arms and legs are weak. I have to rest in between stretch poses and I can’t hold many of them for more than about half a minute.
After a break, I try some squats — my balance is hopeless, some push-ups — my arms feel like jello, and some sit-ups — I manage five, and for the last one, I’m finally glad there’s not a mirror in sight.
After I take a break, sitting on the floor for a minute or two, I cross the room to the curtains and I pull one back to peer outside.
The whole wall is glass and the glass is black.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“The windows are switchable glass, so they’re black.” The Mastermind startled me from the door. “You wouldn’t see anything now, though, anyway. It’s the middle of the night so it’s pitch dark outside.”
“Do I live here? Is this my room?”
“No. The house was built by– Sorry, I’m not supposed to tell you anything. Not yet.”
“Because of the memory thing?”
“Partly…”
“But more because you don’t trust me.”
His eyebrows raise as he puts the tray down on a table. He opens his hands.
I say, “You’re enjoying this.”
He shrugs. “Got to love your work. If you’re going to do it every day anyway, might as well, right?”
“I have no idea.”
“Sorry. Here’s your breakfast.” With a wry smile he says, “Eat. Build your strength. You’ll feel better.” He pulls the chair round and holds it out for me.
“Join me?”
“It’s not breakfast time for me.”
Coffee smells good. I pick up the cup of green tea and it doesn’t smell of anything. I take a sip from the water glass instead.
He brings the stool from the nook in the closets. “So, it’s like I’m jet lagged.”
“Memory lagged.”
The fruit and yogurt look good. I think that’s what would be best for me. And the water. There are some pastries, but I’ll decide about them later. The coffee, too. I notice he brought two coffee cups, but I’ll wait and see whether or not I want to follow the doctor’s advice on that.
“I’ll take some coffee,” he says. “There’s enough for two. And if you want more, I’ll be happy to make it for you.”
Lifting the yogurt pot, after a pleasant sniff, I spoon the contents onto the bowl of cut fruit and berries.
I ask him why all the mirrors are covered.
The Mastermind looks at me with curiosity for several seconds, tilting his head.
