HWSS Suzanna
‘The spaceship manual will give you your first instructions,’ the Room Master says.
He points to the corner at a small security camera.
‘We will be watching you at all times, and if you need a clue, use this.’ He hands Josh a walkie-talkie.
‘Okay?’ he sounds like a zombie. We nod.
‘Good. May the force be with you.’ He closes the door.
A big flash and a theatrical American voice starts to blare out of the speaker.
I massage my temples, trying to relieve the ache. ‘I’m no engineer, but that storyline doesn’t make any sense,’ I say, trying to make a joke.
Josh has hardly said two words since this morning.
I hoped the escape room would shift his mood, but so far it hasn’t done the trick.
He is reading the laminated card from the ‘spaceship manual’.
I look over his shoulder, still massaging my temples.
There are lines of blue, yellow and red dots in different patterns on the page.
‘We have to match the patterns with the buttons over there,’ I say, gesturing to the control panel. He goes over and puts in the patterns without a word. There is a white flash and a jingle. We’ve completed the task.
‘Wow, look at us go,’ I say, still committed to livening the mood, which is hard when I feel like death.
Josh, again, ignores me. It’s as if we have actually broken down on Mars, and it’s all my fault. A locker pings open, and a bucket full of black foam balls is inside.
‘Maybe we need to put the balls in there.’ I point to a tube with ‘Gas’ written on it.
Again, he doesn’t say anything. He just stuffs the balls into the tube.
The flash and jingle play again. We go to the next task and the next without a word.
This is a thousand times worse than the time we did the pub quiz together.
We’re stuck now. Josh is standing at the front of the ship by the control panel. He is pulling a squeaky lever back and forth, and the noise is like shards of glass scratching my brain. I cover my ears.
‘I don’t think that’s right,’ I shout over the squeaking. He keeps pulling the lever. ‘Josh, I think—’
‘What do you think?’ He lets go of it very dramatically. It’s the most he has said since we entered the escape room 40 minutes ago.
‘We need to ask for a clue.’ I pick up the walkie-talkie.
‘No. No clue.’
‘I just want to get this done so that we can go home.’
‘Amy!’
I press the button on the walkie-talkie.
‘Would you like a clue?’ The Room Master sounds like we’ve just woken him.
‘Stop treating me like I’m an idiot!’ Josh yells as he erratically pushes buttons.
I take my thumb off the walkie-talkie button.
‘I’m not. I’m just asking for a clue . . .’
‘You don’t think I deserve the promotion.’
I laugh at the randomness. ‘What are you talking about?’
The flash goes off, and the jingle plays out.
The ‘engine room’ door swings open, and Josh storms inside.
I call after him. Why is he talking about the promotion?
I follow him into a tiny room. Just what we need – an even smaller space.
There’s a jigsaw on the wall. Josh picks up a piece and puts it in the wrong place, so I pick it up and put it in the right place.
He slaps his hand on the fake wires. ‘This is what I mean.’
‘I’m just helping!’ I say, feeling my patience slip away. ‘And about the promotion. Yes, I thought Nina deserved to get it, but of course I’m glad you did, and I think you’ll do a really good job.’
‘So patronising,’ he mutters.
That’s it.
‘Fine. Nina is more qualified, passionate and dedicated than you, so yes, I was very surprised that you got the job over her,’ I shout and push the last two pieces of the puzzle together. Flashy lights, jingle. A locker opens.
He begins clapping sarcastically, as if he’s been waiting for this moment. ‘Finally, the truth. Admit it, you believe the only reason I got promoted was because you think Dr Therone wants to fuck me.’
‘The whole school thinks that, Josh.’
Josh storms out of the engine room and into the main ship again. I find him staring out into the fake galaxy. I take a deep breath. ‘Josh –’
‘You’ve changed,’ he says. I laugh because it sounds like something a teenager would say.
‘Stop laughing at me,’ he shouts. ‘Fuck’s sake.
Old Amy wouldn’t laugh at me. She wouldn’t ditch me at the last minute to go to some opera.
Or get suspended from work. Or throw my mum out.
And she wouldn’t get wasted and try to . . .’ He stops.
‘Try to what?’ I push. I need him to say it out loud.
Josh goes back into the engine room. I follow him. He goes to a keypad and punches in a code. The light flashes, and the jingle plays, a door opens. I have no idea how he worked that out, but I’m too angry to ask.
There is a red floor and black walls with tiny lights for stars. We’re on Mars. Josh empties a bag of sticks onto the floor. Each stick has a different star shape on the end, and on the wall are the slots to stick them in. He sits down close to the wall and slams a hexagram into a hole.
‘Try to do what?’ I repeat. He carries on, shoving the sticks into the holes. ‘Josh?’
‘I don’t know why you had to throw out Mum,’ he eventually says.
‘Geez!’ I want to bang my head on the fake crater. It’s like we are speaking another language – we’ve been speaking another language for quite some time.
‘You don’t care that you upset my mum, do you?’ he yells.
‘No, I don’t care about your mum. I care about us, Josh. For goodness’ sake, why are we not having sex?’ I shout back. I’m shaking, my heart is racing. Josh goes on inspecting the star shapes as if I hadn’t said anything. ‘We can’t keep ignoring the elephant.’
‘Elephant?’ he says, frowning.
‘Yes, the big fuck-off elephant in the room, Josh! We’ve barely touched each other in over six months. And I’ve tried everything. Everything! I tried not having phones in the room. I squeezed into lingerie. I dyed my hair. I did at least 20 press-ups with your gym-buddy wife . . .’
He’s fiddling with one of the sticks. ‘Well, maybe if you—’
‘Pegged you? I TRIED!’ The words bounce around Mars.
A crackling voice comes over the speaker. ‘Space Cadets, you have one minute until launch, do you copy? You have one minute.’
Josh slams in the heptagram and then the decagram. The lights flash, and the jingle plays.
‘Space Cadets, you’ve done it. You’ve done it. Quick, board HWSS Suzanna now. We are launching in 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1.’ All the lights come on, and Josh is still sitting on the red floor with his back to me. I’m leaning on the starry sky wall.
‘I was going to say, maybe if you said something, we could have talked about it.’
‘How can I, Josh?’
‘I don’t know. Just talk. Ask me questions,’ he says, like it’s been that easy all along. As if the whole reason why we’re here, right now, is because I didn’t do the obvious, but I’m not going to shoulder the blame for this.
‘It’s impossible, Josh. You shut down whenever sex is mentioned. Even last night, you said you didn’t want to do that with me. It’s ridiculous. We’re getting married in under two weeks, and we don’t even know each other’s favourite sex position.’
‘Are we?’ Josh asks.
‘What?’
‘Getting married?’
The walkie-talkie crackles. ‘Guys,’ the Room Master says. ‘Can you break up somewhere else? We have another group waiting.’