Who Needs Forever Anyway?

Harmony House: Episode 27

“Harmony House” is a serial novel with episodes released every Tuesday morning. You can read the setup for the story or start from the beginning. Each episode comes with high-quality audio narration for you to enjoy on the go with the Substack mobile app.

Previously…

In the last episode, Freja, budding filmmaker and eco-terrorist directed Jessie to perform her script in their replica of Houze. On camera, Jessie related the tragic story of more GreenerTech crimes, this one involving illegal cobalt mining practices in the Congo that have caused the deaths of fourteen children.

It was strange without Jessie and Deepu. Houze felt like a rambling 3,000-square-foot loft to Cam. The four of them could sleep comfortably. There was no need to do the rotation. There was enough personal space for them to retreat from each other which they had done for the past twenty-four hours.

No one knew what to say. They felt powerless to do anything. The game was no longer important. Their petty squabbles over personal hygiene were of no consequence. They fulfilled their obligation to the show now for very different reasons.

Cam was not surprised when the “go live” alarm sounded and began counting down on his device. Nothing was gamified anymore. Schultz had shared a precise schedule with them so they could have time to prepare their monologs. They had been prepped and given stage direction. Cam and Fran would be performing this scene together. The direction from Schultz had been to be extra-catty. They needed to provide some comic relief in response to Jessie’s meltdown broadcast the night before. Cam was good at being catty. He was also a good actor. But Jessie’s video had been upsetting on so many levels that Cam was struggling to put on the clown makeup. He looked up at Fran. She was sitting next to him on the couch. She nodded to indicate she was ready. Cam held up his device and hit the record button.

“Oh, hello y’all!” he said, his voice too loud. “Franny and me are just sitting here anxiously awaiting our next meal of cardboard and paste in a reduction of gruel. Can you tell I’m a little tired of the food?”

“What I wouldn’t give for a Big Mac,” Fran added.

Her voice was wooden and her expression dull. She was a terrible actress. Cam would have to carry the performance, he realized.

“So, things have gotten a bit heavy around here, am I right? Not to name names, but a certain bear of a man has been on a bit of a crusade…”

“Yeah, what’s new?” Fran said, directing the camera to her. “Isn’t he the type that’s always on a crusade? What I want to know is if corporations are so evil, why does he work for one? Also, if FutureAbode is so evil, why doesn’t he just leave the damned show? I mean, the rest of us want to be here. We want to win. Let him go off in the damned woods and eat twigs and berries.”

Cam turned the camera so he was back in frame and made a shushing gesture with his free hand.

“Easy, killer. The bear is hibernating. We don’t want to wake him and feel his wrath.”

“I don’t care. Let him growl. He doesn’t scare me.”

Cam held a closed fist up to her mouth and did his best journalist voice. “Tell us, Fran, what does scare you?”

He immediately regretted the question. She was a loose cannon prone to extremes. In the time he had spent with her, he had seen her swings and guessed she was likely bi-polar. She didn’t answer the question right away with something quippy and ironic. She stared past the camera lens and her face sagged.

“I don’t want to die,” she said. “I don’t want to die alone…”

“Okay! We have a winner, Rich. Tell us on the board how many people fear dying alone?”

Cam was scrambling for how to fill another ten minutes. He was definitely not going to interview Fran. He rose from the couch and stepped over to retrieve his ukulele from the corner.

“Okay, that brings us to the song portion of our little Houze variety show.”

He clamped the device into a small tripod and positioned it in front of the couch to ensure he would be fully in frame and no one else. His mind was completely blank. A month ago, if someone told him he could perform anything he wanted to an audience of thousands, he would have had a hundred ideas of what to play. Now, when he needed it most, he had nothing. His clown makeup was starting to fade. He was not a clown even though he had played one for most of his life. It was easier.

He was scared too and not just for Jessie and Deepu. How were they any safer out here, exposed in the middle of the woods? What was to stop the lunatics from coming for them or worse? What was to stop them from blowing up Houze? That would be the kind of spectacle they’d want, right? That would be a way to end with a bang. He couldn’t allow himself to go down this road.

He focused on tuning the little instrument and then began to strum through a lazy cycle of chords. He started by humming softly. He didn’t address the camera for fear of showing his emotion. He just continued to strum, allowing the music to do its work as it often did. Music had quietly saved him at so many points in his life. The cycle of chords began to take the shape of an old song he hadn’t played since college. It had been a massive hit, but he couldn’t remember the name of the artist because they had delivered their one song to the world and disappeared. It was a feel-good, party kind of song but Cam’s version was slow and measured. He remembered the younger version of himself loving to lean into the irony as he sang his laconic rendition of a banger song in the middle of a noisy club.

It was a trick he loved. It disarmed people when you defied their expectations. No one ever recognized the song until it was nearly halfway finished but it held their attention somehow even without its bombastic drums and layers of synthesizers. The simple scaffolding of a great melody, adorned with a lyric so spare and open to interpretation was timeless and captivating on its own.

When he reached the second chorus, he heard other voices. First Jayden’s but then Fran and Riley joined in. It was not beautiful, four-part harmony. It was kind of terrible actually, but their voices together were better than his alone.

Maybe we won’t last the day
Maybe we won’t last the week
Maybe we don’t have to say
Baby you don’t have to speak

I know you know it’s okay
I know you know it’s okay
Who needs forever anyway

When he finished the last chords of the outro, he was crying and glad not to have to try to sing through his tears. Blessedly Jayden stepped up to shut off the phone as the last chord rang out. The four of them sat there in silence. When Cam finally looked up from his instrument, he saw the others were crying too.

“How long are we going to keep this up?” Jayden said.

“As long as we have to,” Riley said. “It’s the least we can do. We’re safe here. No one’s got a gun to our heads.”

“How are you so sure?” Fran said. “How can you know what these terrorists have planned? They should have brought the authorities in. We need protection. I think we should just leave, find somewhere safe.”

“You would,” Riley said. “That would be best for you. Meanwhile, the show is over, the terrorists don’t have their platform and they kill Jessie and Deepu. I get it though, not your problem.”

Fran rose in a huff and walked into the kitchen. No one spoke. They sat there in silence interrupted only by the soft hum of the heat pump when it kicked on. It was only six-thirty but already getting dark outside. As the natural light faded, the soft, ambient lights in Houze glowed to life so slowly that Cam had never noticed this trick before. He marveled at the beauty and precision of the place as he had during his first couple of days. This momentary reverie was quickly eclipsed by the images of the dead children Jessie had described and he felt sick. Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Cam had always believed that people were basically good and meant well. He had never been political or overly curious about how the larger cogs in the machine turned. He made beautiful things and enjoyed beautiful things.

He found serious people like Jessie and Riley with their relentless crusades to point out all that was wrong with the world tiresome. But literally being trapped here in this box with no distractions, he was beginning to wonder if maybe he was the problem. He was the happy consumer who nodded politely at dinner parties when someone described the cruelty of factory farming and then crossed the room to scarf down a fried chicken slider when the coast was clear.

He just wanted this nightmare to be over, but he had no clear idea of what over looked like. The four of them had been shocked earlier when they saw Jessie’s video was recorded in what appeared to be the bathroom of Houze. These crazy people were not just a bunch of dirty hippies. They had serious funding. They had a plan which meant they were in control. As annoying as Fran was, he completely understood her desire to leave. There was no good reason for all of them to remain in Houze. Wasn’t the whole point of the show for them to drop off one by one? If one of them were to leave it would only make for better ratings. Surely people were getting bored with the show at this point. Why shouldn’t he be the one to leave? As if reading his thoughts, Jayden spoke up.

“I don’t think we all need to stay. The game is over and all of us being here isn’t helping Jessie and Deepu. If Fran wants to go, she should go.”

Riley opened his mouth to make an argument but thought better of it. If anyone would be happier with Fran gone it would be him. Fran returned from the kitchen and spoke.

“I see what you’re doing. You all want me to leave. You want me gone so you can be one big happy family. Oh, and by the way. No one’s actually said the game is over. You want me gone so you’re one step closer to winning.”

“Fran, for fuck’s sake,” Cam said unable to hide the exasperation in his voice. “Everything’s not a conspiracy. No one’s out to get you.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to Jessie and Deepu! Seems like someone is definitely out to get us and what else would you call this shit if it’s not a conspiracy?”

She made a good point. Even a broken clock could be right twice a day. Before anyone else could respond, the wall display chimed twice and came to life. On screen, they saw the familiar fisheye view of the war room at FutureAbode. The Jenson brothers, Evangeline, and Schultz were seated at the conference table. Schultz cleared his throat and asked if someone could dial into the link from their device and position it so they could be on screen. Riley did this and the four settled onto the couch opposite the large display.

“Good evening,” Schultz said. “Thank you for joining. Great job on the live feed, Cam. We know how difficult this must be on you all and we appreciate your remaining cool under pressure. First off, is there anything we can do for you?”

“Yeah,” Fran said. “How about some real food to start with?”

“Certainly, anything in particular you would like?” Schultz said.

“A hamburger and French fries,” Fran said. “A real hamburger, not some veggie thing.”

“Consider it done,” Schultz said, making a show of writing it down in his little black notebook. “Anyone else?”

The remaining three sheepishly made their junk food requests and Schultz took down their orders, tore the sheet from his notebook, and handed it to Chris. He then turned back to the screen to address the contestants.

“How’s everyone feeling?”

“We were just debating about why we’re all still here,” Cam said. “And if we don’t all have to be here, who should leave.”

“And what have you concluded?” Schultz replied. “Is one of you ready to forfeit and leave the game?”

Cam had the distinct impression that their overlords had already been discussing this until the younger brother, Chris spoke.

“This is no longer a fucking game. The game ended when two of our contestants got abducted at gunpoint.”

“Make no mistake, we are still playing a game here but now the stakes are much higher. Lives are on the line and your entire life’s work could be destroyed. But these folks,” Schultz gestured to the screen. “They’ve disrupted their lives to compete for the chance to win something that could change their lives.”

“What are you saying,” Chris said, leaning forward. “You want them to sill compete? I thought we were here to discuss how to begin to wind this thing down. This is crazy.”

“Is it? It seems to me it might be in everyone’s best interest to just keep playing the game. But why don’t we ask them? Does any of you no longer want the prize?”

Cam looked away from the screen and studied the faces of his housemates. He lingered on Jayden. She was not built for this and she was the most upset about Jessie and Deepu being abducted. Surely, she was ready to leave this circus. But she did not look up or say anything. Their collective silence was the answer Schultz seemed to be expecting because he continued on without missing a beat.

“That’s what I thought. There’s nothing wrong with your looking out for your own interests. It’s the most human thing to do. And the prize is pretty fantastic.”

Cam could see the Jenson brothers exchanging a look he could not read beyond basic disgust. The billionaire’s daughter looked like a hollow version of herself and did not look up from her hands. This was all too surreal.

“Right,” Schultz said after inhaling deeply. “The game resumes. The same rules apply as before but with the added wrinkle of concealing the fact that Jessie and Deepu are not in Houze. Should you do anything to tip that secret intentionally or unintentionally, you will be disqualified. Do you all understand?”

The four contestants nodded. Then Jayden spoke.

“But what are you doing about Jessie and Deepu? Why haven’t you called the police?”

“The minute the authorities are involved, we lose control and put the hostages in peril,” Schultz said. He paused and looked around the table. “We’ve cooperated and done everything they’ve asked. It’s our turn now. We need to discuss a strategy to gain the upper hand and force them to release their hostages.”

“Their names are Deepu and Jessie,” Scott said, irritated. “The longer this goes, the more chances it has to go sideways. This may look like a game, like something you can apply one of your game theory models to, but it’s not a game.”

Schultz was chastened or at least gave that impression. He studied his hands, twisting a silver ring he wore on his thumb.

Scott turned his attention back to the camera. “Thank you guys for holding up so well. None of this is what Chris or I wanted. We’re going to get Jessie and Deepu free and, in the meantime, we’ll get that food to you. If there’s anything else you need, just name it and we’ll do our best.”

The call ended. The four remaining contestants retreated into what personal space they could find in Houze. Cam replayed the exchange between Schultz and Scott. It seemed clear now that Scott had never been on board with this contest thing. He looked as though he were a hostage.

Schultz was a different story. To Cam, he looked like someone with his finger on the bishop waiting for his opponent to move already.

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Who’s Who in Harmony House?

Having trouble keeping track of who’s who from one week to the next? It’s tough when you only get to visit once a week. I made a little cheat sheet just for you: