The Prisoner of Cell 25

  Dr. Hatch said to take you shopping for a new wardrobe. And guess where?”

  Taylor shrugged.

  “The Miracle Mile . . .”

  “Huh?”

  “Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills. Heard of it? If you’re anything like me—and you are—you are going to have the time of your life.”

  “I don’t have any money,” Taylor said.

  Tara laughed. “You don’t need money here. Now get dressed.”

  Taylor looked through the clothes Tara had brought. None of them looked as if they’d even been worn. “Wow. These are some expensive brands.” She picked up a pair of jeans.

  “You can keep whatever you like, I’ll just get more. Actually, you’ll get whatever you need today.” Tara held up a blouse. “I love this one, it looks great with my . . . our complexion. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Try it on.”

  Ignoring the video cameras, Taylor slipped off the smock and put on the blouse.

  “You look ridiculously beautiful,” Tara said. “You’re the most beautiful girl in this place.” She laughed. “Oh, that’s kind of like com-plimenting myself, isn’t it?”

  Taylor grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

  After Taylor was dressed, the two girls walked outside the cell to an elevator. Tara put her finger on a fingerprint sensor pad. The screen turned green and the elevator door slid open.

  “We’ll stop by the cafeteria and get some breakfast on the way out,” Tara said. She pushed the button for floor one and they descended two levels to the main floor. “This way to the cafeteria,” she said.

  The cafeteria looked less like a school cafeteria than a restaurant in a fancy hotel. They were met at the door by the restaurant’s maître d’, a short, Italian man with silver hair and a black tuxedo.

  “Good morning, ladies. You both look bellissima.”

  “Yes we do,” Tara said. “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Thank you,” Taylor said.

  “What will it be today? Crab Benedict and banana-and-candied-walnut oatmeal are today’s chef specials.”

  “I just want a banana smoothie,” Tara said. “We’re in a hurry.”

  “I guess, me too,” Taylor said.

  “Will you be having that to go, then?”

  “Yes,” Tara said. “And fast.”

  “Yes, very well.” He ran back through the kitchen doors and just a few minutes later a waiter brought out their smoothies in crystal goblets with small, silver spoons. Tara took both glasses and handed one to Taylor. “Let’s go, sis. We’re burning daylight.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I already told you. Shopping.”

  “Outside?”

  “Well, duh?”

  Taylor looked around. “No one is going to stop me from leaving?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Dr. Hatch said—”

  “Oh,” Tara interrupted. “That reminds me. Dr. Hatch is going to meet up with us a little later. He said he has a surprise for you.” Her eyebrows rose. “So get excited. His surprises are epic. He doesn’t do things small.”

  Taylor followed her out the front door. It was the first time Taylor had seen the sun for several days. Her instinct told her to bolt, but she was still surrounded by fences and Tara’s happiness and reassur-ances had calmed her some. A Rolls-Royce Phantom was waiting for them at the curb. The driver stood at the back door, holding it open for them. “Good morning ladies.”

  “Morning, Griff,” Tara said.

  “Good morning,” Taylor said.

  “Welcome to the academy, Taylor,” the driver said. “My name is Griffin. If I can do anything to make your day more pleasant please let me know.”

  Taylor wondered how he knew her name. The two girls climbed into the backseat. Taylor had never been in such a luxurious car. The interior was all leather, glass, and highly polished burled wood. A glass partition separated them from the driver. In the center console was a telephone. Taylor’s heart jumped. “Can I call my parents?”

  Tara shook her head. “We’ll have to ask Dr. Hatch. But it’s probably too soon. There’s still too much of that still in you.”

  “Too much of what?” Taylor asked.

  Tara pointed to the world outside the compound. “That.”

  The drive from Pasadena to the palm-tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills was only twenty-five minutes. It was a bright day and the sidewalks were crowded with both the glamorous and those seek-ing it.

  Griffin parked the Rolls in a reserved spot on South Santa Mon-ica Boulevard, then followed a few yards behind the girls as they shopped.

  “Why is he following us?” Taylor asked suspiciously.

  “Duh,” Tara said. “Someone’s got to carry our bags.”

  Rodeo Drive started at the Beverly Hills Hotel and stretched on for nearly a mile. Tara explained that the district took up three city blocks and had over a hundred boutiques, hotels, and salons. Every fashion designer worth visiting had a residence in the neighborhood.

  In the first block they passed stores Taylor had only heard of: Lacoste, Juicy Couture, Chanel, Hugo Boss, and Giorgio Armani.

  Tara pulled Taylor toward Juicy Couture, a tall glass store with a window display of mannequins in jewel-studded tracksuits with purses, patterned with Couture’s trademark crowns, slung over their shoulders. Tara wanted to look at the swimsuits and pulled a floral print tankini from the rack.

  “What do you think of this?”

  Taylor looked at the price tag. “Two hundred and thirty dollars for a bathing suit?”

  Tara shrugged. “I know. A bargain, right?”

  They crossed Brighton Way and continued down Rodeo Drive.

  Tara pulled Taylor into Salvatore Ferragamo. At Tara’s insistence, Taylor selected a pair of sunglasses in red and Tara got the same ones in purple.

  Outside a store called Dolce & Gabbana, Tara squealed, “They have their new collection in! Come on!”

  A woman standing near the front of the store smiled as the girls entered. “There are two of you! Which one of you lovely ladies is Tara?”

  “I’m Tara,” Tara said, curtseying. “This is my twin, Taylor.”

  “Twice the charm. It’s such a pleasure meeting you, Taylor. How may we serve you ladies?”

  “We’re here to dress Taylor up,” Tara said.

  “Our pleasure.” The woman snapped her fingers in the air. “Marc, bring Tara and Taylor some sparkling water.” She turned back to the girls, smiling unctuously. “This way, please.”

  Taylor whispered to Tara, “She knows you?”

  “Of course. I’m one of her best customers.”

  The woman led them to dressing rooms where her staff delivered outfit after outfit of gorgeous fabrics and light dresses. They spent more than five thousand dollars and the salesladies waved happily to them as they walked out, the girls’ arms heavy with shopping bags, which they surrendered to Griffin.

  Taylor trailed behind Tara all morning as they walked through Tara’s favorite stores: Bebe, Gucci, Chanel. Even though they were the identical age, Taylor thought Tara acted more like a twenty-one-year-old than a fifteen-year-old. She knew her way around the stores and if they didn’t already know her, all she had to do was say that she was with the Elgen Academy and the employees tripped over each other to help them.

  At Tara’s urging, Taylor purchased nine pairs of jeans, six skirts, four pairs of shoes, eight shirts, two leather jackets, and three bags of accessories. Just for fun, Tara picked out three identical outfits.

  Taylor was nervous about all the money they were spending. She had once used her mother’s credit card to download an album, without asking, and she’d been grounded for a week. “Whose credit card are we using?” Taylor asked.

  Tara held it up. “American Express Black card. It’s mine. I just have to ask first. But they’ve never turned me down. I think it has like a two-hundred-thousand-dollar limit.”

  Taylor’s jaw dropp
ed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Nope. Far cry from Preston Street, eh?”

  Taylor looked at her. “How do you know where I live?”

  “I asked, of course.” Tara smiled. “Sis, you just don’t understand how excited I’ve been to have you here. You coming home is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  The way Tara said “home” scared her. Taylor wasn’t sure how to respond to Tara’s excitement. Finally she just said, “Thank you.”

  A few minutes later Taylor was looking at a diamond necklace displayed in the window of Tiffany & Company when Tara said, “Dr.

  Hatch said to not buy any jewelry.”

  “I was just looking.”

  “No problem,” she said. “He’ll be here soon anyway. He wanted to meet us around one. Which is”—she looked at her watch—“almost a half hour from now. Are you ready for a break?”

  Taylor nodded.

  “Good. Because I want to show you something.” Tara led her to Via Rodeo, where they wandered through the cobblestone roads, pausing at the fountains and wrought-iron lamps and arches. Griffin still followed, but at a distance.

  “This is so beautiful,” Taylor said.

  “It’s European,” Tara explained. “Have you ever seen the real thing? Europe?”

  “No. Someday.” Taylor’s parents had promised to take her on a tour of Europe the summer after she graduated from high school.

  Something that even with her mother’s professional discounts, they’d still have to save and sacrifice for. Thinking of her parents made her heart ache.

  Tara touched her shoulder. “No? You will. You are going to love our vacations.” They walked past a crowd of tourists posing in front of a fountain and crossed the street toward the Beverly Wilshire.

  “Are you having fun?”

  Taylor nodded, even though she was still afraid.

  “Told you you’d like it. Only one thing I’m disappointed about. I usually see celebrities. I guess you can’t have everything.” Before Taylor could say anything Tara asked, “Are you hungry yet?”

  Taylor figured they had spent more than ten thousand dollars on clothes. “Are you sure we’re not going to get in trouble for spending so much?”

  “We might get in trouble for not spending enough. This is what we’re supposed to do.”

  “I just can’t believe this,” Taylor said, feeling confused.

  “Believe it. It’s the way it is all the time. Dr. Hatch always says special people should have special things.” Her face lit. “You like sushi, don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never had it. But I’ve always wanted to try it.”

  “I’ve got a place for you.”

  They walked a couple of blocks to a Japanese restaurant. Urasawa.

  The restaurant’s lobby was crowded and Tara pushed her way to the hostess counter, which embarrassed Taylor immensely.

  “A table for three,” Tara said.

  The hostess, a middle-aged Japanese woman, looked at her dully.

  “Do you have reservations?”

  “No,” Tara said confidently. “We’re with the Elgen Academy.”

  The woman slightly bowed. “My apologies; gomen nasai. Right this way.” She whispered into a nearby waitress’s ear, then grabbed the menus and immediately led Tara and Taylor to a table near the back of the restaurant. “We reserve this table for celebrities,” the woman said. “Welcome to Urasawa.”

  As they sat down a kimono-clad waitress brought out a plate of gyoza.

  “This is amazing,” Taylor said. “I can’t believe they just let us in.”

  Tara looked at the menu. “Of course they did.”

  Taylor looked at the empty seat. “Is Griffin going to eat with us?”

  Tara crinkled her nose. “No. Why would he do that?”

  “Then who’s the third seat for?”

  “Hopefully, that seat would be for me,” Dr. Hatch said. He was standing next to the table, dressed casually in light slacks and a polo shirt.

  Tara smiled. “Hello, Dr. Hatch.”

  Taylor bristled at the sight of him, but faked a smile.

  “May I join you?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Tara said.

  He pulled out a chair and sat down. “So how goes the shopping?

  Having fun?”

  “We’ve spent about ten thousand dollars so far,” Tara said.

  “Only ten?” Hatch said. “Come on, girls, you need to pick up the pace. Shop like you mean it.”

  Taylor looked at him in wonderment. Dr. Hatch lifted a pair of chopsticks and helped himself to one of the dumplings. “Hmm,” he said. “Fabulous.”

  The waitress returned with a large platter of sushi, tempura, and yakiniku. The waitress bowed to Dr. Hatch. “Dr. Hatch, youkoso.”

  “Domo arigato gozaimasu.”

  Tara and Dr. Hatch attacked the food while Taylor fumbled with her chopsticks.

  “This is great sushi,” Tara said. “Not as good as that place we ate in Tokyo last summer . . . But it’s still good.”

  “Kyubei,” Hatch said. “Wonderful restaurant. One of the few places that still serves puffer fish.”

  “You went to Tokyo?” Taylor asked.

  “Oh, yeah. We go everywhere. Last year the family went on a trip to Japan, Beijing, Hong Kong, and Taiwan.”

  “I’ve always wanted to travel,” Taylor said.

  Dr. Hatch handed Taylor a fork. “Chopsticks can be such a bother.

  Please, enjoy. The unagi is especially delicious.”

  Taylor speared a piece. “What’s this?”

  “Eel,” Tara said. “It’s my favorite.”

  Taylor took a tiny bite while Tara and Hatch watched her expec-tantly. “What do you think?” Hatch asked.

  “It looks gross, but it’s pretty good.”

  Hatch smiled. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said.

  Taylor sensed he wasn’t talking about food.

  “Bet you didn’t have sushi this good in Idaho,” Tara said.

  “I didn’t have it at all. Sushi’s kind of expensive.”

  “That’s too bad,” Tara said.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Taylor said defensively. “It’s just food.”

  “Taylor’s right,” Hatch said. “It is just food. And besides, want is a thing of the past.” He smiled at her. “From now on you’re going to experience things you’ve only dreamed of. And you’re going to travel to places you’ve only imagined: Bali, Nepal, Moscow, Paris, Rome.

  And that’s just the beginning. We have a student traveling right now from London to Dubai. It’s a brave new world, Taylor. A brave new world with endless opportunities.”

  He gestured with his chopsticks. “Think of it. Every day billions of people wake up to lives of desperation—some just hoping to survive another miserable day. Those few with enough to eat, are hoping their lives might mean something—hoping their dreams and existence won’t just blow away with the sands of time. But not you.

  Not anymore. What we do at the academy, what you do as one of the chosen, will endure. Someday people will read textbooks about you.

  You will be talked about and discussed just like the early pioneers and explorers in today’s textbooks. You are Christopher Columbus, Marco Polo, and Neil Armstrong, all in one.”

  “Why would they talk about me?” Taylor asked.

  “Because you are a pioneer in a very real sense. You are the proto-type of the next great species. You will be more famous than you can possibly imagine.”

  Taylor didn’t know what to say.

  After another half hour Hatch said, “Are you girls almost done eating? Because I have a surprise for Taylor.”

  Tara smiled. “Lucky girl. Dr. Hatch has the best surprises.”

  “Are you ready?” Hatch asked.

  “I guess so,” Taylor said.

  Hatch stood and raised his hand. The waitress rushed over. “Hai, sir.”

  “Put it o
n our tab, thirty percent tip.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  They walked out of the restaurant. A black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows was idling out front. Two black-suited men with ear radios and aviator sunglasses stood next to the car. Hatch waved to them. “We’re just going to walk. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

  “What’s a few blocks?” Taylor asked.

  “Have you ever heard of Harry Winston?” Hatch asked.

  “Harry Winston the jeweler?”

  “Exactly,” he said, looking impressed. “How do you know Harry Winston?”

  “It’s in that song, ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.’ They say,

  ‘talk to me Harry Winston.’”

  Dr. Hatch laughed. “Brava! Very good, Taylor. You’re much too young to know that though.”

  “My mom liked that song. I mean, likes that song.” It bothered her that she had used the past tense.

  Hatch nodded. “Did you know that Harry Winston acquired and gave away the most famous diamond in history? It’s called the Hope diamond and it’s more than forty-five carats. Today it’s on display at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. What’s most impressive to me is that not only did he acquire a gem once owned by King Louis the XIV, but he also had the guts to cut it. He had the courage to improve it. That’s how you make history. You cut against the rough.” He looked up. “And here we are,” he said, raising his hands.

  The store was composed of smooth gray stone. A simple brass sign out front read hW, and below that, harry Winston.

  A man opened the door for them. “Hello, Dr. Hatch.”

  Hatch waved the girls ahead. “Girls. After you.”

  Taylor had never been in such a luxurious place before. The floors were carpeted in rich chocolate hues and the walls were a dark mahogany. It was cool inside and windowless, the room lit by large wall lamps. The atmosphere was hushed, as if they’d entered a mu-seum or library.

  “This is the place to buy jewelry. This is where the stars come when they’re up for an Oscar,” Tara said.

  “And you,” Hatch said to Taylor, “are a star.”

  An older gentleman with silver hair whisked across the room to greet them. “Ah, Dr. Hatch,” he said with a French accent. “It’s so good to see you again. I have the necklaces you requested right over here.”