SELGOOD: ‘So you alone knew what was going to happen to the actress?’
RUBY: ‘No, I managed to contact Hitch and he contacted those other Spectrum guardians of the galaxy, but time was tight.’
DR SELGOOD: ‘So you went ahead alone?’
RUBY: ‘What would you have done, let her go splat because no one else arrived on time?’
DR SELGOOD: ‘Maybe I would; most people don’t have your unwavering courage.’
RUBY: ‘Try living with the memory of knowing you might have been able to save someone if only you had possessed the nerve to run up a flight of stairs, climb out of a window and stand on a roof shouting.’
DR SELGOOD: ‘So you are saying that you felt your very presence on that rooftop might save the actress’s life?’
RUBY: ‘Now you’re making me sound like I have a god complex.’
DR SELGOOD: ‘Do you?’
RUBY: ‘I reckon that’s your job to figure. I have far more important things to think about.’
Dr Selgood nearly smiled at that one. ‘I’m going to suggest you take on some psychological training. Meanwhile you might want to read this.’ He handed her a book entitled Six Seconds Could Save Your Life.
‘Sure, thanks Doc. I could use a light read; I left my book at home.’
Hitch, it seemed, could not be contacted, and so Ruby had to return to Cedarwood Drive alone. During the short subway ride, she opened Dr Selgood’s book and began reading. Actually it wasn’t as irritating as she had imagined and there seemed to be some evidence that this simple technique might actually work.
Basically, the idea was this: if you found yourself in a stressful, frightening or emotionally unsettling situation, you should take six seconds to quietly reflect before making any decisions. It was a simple concept, but there was some science behind it too: as Ruby flicked through the pages she saw that there had been some research showing that this moment of reflection helped the prefrontal cortex to modulate signals from the amygdala – which was where anger, fear and aggression were registered.
She thought she might try and give this technique a go; it was worth a shot.
Not wanting to alert anyone to her late arrival home, Ruby went in the back way through the yard and climbed the tree to her window. She went into the bathroom, took out her lenses, looked in the mirror, debated whether she should have a shower and rejected the idea before falling fully clothed onto her bed.
Meanwhile …
… the prison officer handed prisoner 2185 his package.
It had already been opened and checked by the prison security team.
‘It’s your lucky day, a surprise gift – home cooked too! Someone on the outside likes you.’
Prisoner 2185 carried the gift over to the table and took it out of its wrapping. Inside was a tin and a note was taped to the back:
Thought these might take you out of yourself. We’ll all be waiting for you when you get out.
P.S. Remember there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.
Your Uncle Ed
The handwriting looked like it might belong to a gorilla.
The man prised open the lid and looked inside: the tin contained muffins. He picked one up. Heavy, he thought.
He slowly bit into it and felt his teeth knock on something hard.
He tried another, the same thing.
He smiled.
He would eat these later, much later when everyone had gone to bed. He had a feeling this batch of baked goods might just be his ticket to freedom.
RUBY WOKE UP TO THE SOUND OF A CHICKEN CLUCKING INSIDE HER HEAD. Actually it wasn’t inside her head, it was sort of underneath her pillow, and it wasn’t an actual chicken, it was a novelty telephone shaped like an egg. Now the cheerful cluck of the Chicken Licken ringtone roused her from a series of forgettable dreams.
‘Ruby?’
‘Yeah?’
‘It’s Mouse.’
‘Oh, hey Mouse, did I oversleep or something?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Sorry … where am I meant to be?’
‘The Donut.’
‘Now?’
‘A half hour ago.’
‘Sorry.’
Silence.
‘Do I need to be there?’
‘Kinda.’
Ruby was trying to think.
‘Halloween costumes!’ She finally got it.
‘Yeah and I wish you would hurry up, the conversation has been wearing thin. Clancy has this new pen. He says it’s a space pen, you know, writes upside down, zero gravity …’
‘I know,’ said Ruby, ‘it’s meant to be like the most permanent permanent marker there is. Apparently you can write on a space shuttle and it won’t come off.’
‘Well, it’s causing permanent boredom, the kinda boredom that makes you wish you were in space.’
‘I’ll be there, Mouse, just give me ten minutes.’ Then she glanced at herself in the mirror: brother! Something weird had happened to her hair. ‘OK, better make that fifteen.’
She walked to the bathroom, stepped into the shower, squirted shampoo on her head, rubbed it in, cleaned her teeth, rinsed her hair, combed it through, dried off, pulled on the clothes that happened to be lying on the floor, looked for her lenses, couldn’t find them so instead reached for her battered glasses, stepped into her Yellow Stripe sneakers and laced them up. Then she climbed out of the window and down the tree – she didn’t need to
