Home > Unplugged(2)

Unplugged(2)
Author: Gordon Korman

It’s ten times hotter inside the car than outside it. The air-conditioning isn’t broken; it just doesn’t exist.

The driver is either named Buddy or wants us to consider him our buddy—I’m not sure which. He assures us we don’t need air-conditioning. “A certain amount of sweating is good for you,” he calls over the engine’s roar. “It’s part of the program—keeps your skin pores open. You’re cooler in the long run.”

“Program?” I ask Matt suspiciously.

He just shrugs.

The breeze feels like it’s coming from a hair dryer set on fricassee. But after an hour on the road, I don’t even care that I’m sweat-drenched from head to toe.

“Where are we?” I hiss. “How much worse is this going to get?”

“We’re on our way,” he insists, “to the—uh—resort.” But he doesn’t look too happy either. Maybe the bumpy two-lane road is messing with his stomach. No resort I ever went to had an approach like this.

“Couldn’t we have gone by helicopter? Or float plane?”

He shakes his head. “This place is really remote.”

Tell me about it. We haven’t seen a solitary soul in twenty miles that didn’t have feathers or four legs. This resort has a waiting list? I’d hate to see the one nobody wants to go to.

Another hour goes by. The scenery doesn’t change. Standing by the side of the road, a deer looks at me as we pass by. I swear there’s pity in its eyes.

There are signs that talk about towns, but we never see any. By this time, I’m not just physically miserable and bored out of my mind; I’m also starving. I’d give a thousand preferred shares of Fuego stock for a bag of Doritos. The luxury of the Gulfstream feels like it happened in another lifetime—a way better one.

Finally, three hours in, we get there. I look around for the trappings of a vacation hot spot. Palm trees, towering waterslides, gleaming hotel buildings. Nothing. There’s a small sign by the main entrance:

THE OASIS OF MIND & BODY WELLNESS

I turn to Matt. “Wellness?”

“This is the place,” he confirms. “Your dad set the whole thing up.”

How do I even describe it? A lot of words come to mind, none of them resort. It’s decently large, surrounded by woods, with small neat cottages dotted all over the property. There are a few bigger buildings too, but none higher than a single story. It isn’t a dump. Nothing is falling apart, and it’s all freshly painted and well maintained. It isn’t totally un-fun. There’s a pool at least—the kind any crummy motel would have. No waterslides or anything cool like that. There are people on bikes and, in the distance, kayaking and pedal boating on a lake. What can I say? It’s sort of okay, but it’s definitely not the kind of high-end destination where you get your own chef. My father picked this place? No way!

The driver takes us to the welcome center so we can check in.

I tug on Matt’s arm. “I don’t get it. Why would Vlad send me clear across the country and hours into the wilderness to a place that doesn’t have anything half as good as the stuff at our own house?”

“Take it easy—”

“And what’s this whole ‘wellness’ thing? I’m not sick!”

“We’re all sick,” comes a rich female voice, smooth as melted caramel, from behind the counter. “In fact, the moment we’re born, we immediately begin dying.”

Picture the most intimidating woman you’ve ever seen—like a supermodel on the body of one of those female wrestlers in WWE. The figure who stands up from her chair must be six foot four, yet she carries herself with a catlike ease and grace. She has huge pale gray eyes that are closer to silver. Her hair is almost silver too—what there is of it. It’s close cropped—I swear it’s shorter than mine. I’m so tempted to stare at her that I have to look away.

“Uh—hi,” Matt says, clearly thrown. “I’m Matt Louganis and this is Jett Baranov. Checking in.”

“I envy you,” the lady informs us in that almost musical tone. “No part of the journey is ever quite so eye-opening as the first step. I’m Ivory Novis. I’m in charge of meditation here.”

“Meditation?” I echo.

“This is the Oasis of Mind and Body Wellness. We heal the body through diet and exercise. The mind, on the other hand, is a more complicated instrument. The valves of a trumpet can be oiled. Only meditation can tune the mind.”

Huh? “I’ve heard of math teachers and English teachers,” I tell her. “But meditation teachers? That’s a new one.”

“Here at the Oasis we say ‘pathfinder,’ not ‘teacher.’ I cannot plant information inside your head. I can merely show you the path to understanding.”

Every time Ivory Novis opens her mouth, a lot of serious weirdness comes out. I blurt, “You know that waiting list? Is it to get in, or get out?”

Ivory laughs and then holds out her hand. Matt moves to shake it, but that’s not what she has in mind.

“Your phones, gentlemen,” she tells us.

A great fear clutches at my heart. “What about them?”

“You have to turn them in,” Ivory explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s the one strict rule of the Oasis—no electronics. On the path to wellness, the only screen you need is the vast blank slate of your imagination.”

I’m psyched. Finally we come to the part where Matt tells this Wonder Woman on steroids where she can stick her Oasis. So it’s a blow when I see him hand over his beloved F-phone like it’s nothing.

“You knew about this?” I accuse him.

He nods grimly. “And so did your father.”

That’s when it dawns on me. “Vlad didn’t send me here to lie low. He sent me here for revenge! Just because he had to pay back the air force for scrambling those fighter planes.”

Matt shakes his head solemnly. “Your father loves you. He sent you here because you need this. Silicon Valley’s Number One Spoiled Brat—that looks cute in a magazine. But these stunts of yours are getting out of hand. What if a piece of that drone had gone through somebody’s skull instead of just their windshield? One of these days, you’re going to do something that your father can’t buy you out of. He’s trying to save your life, Jett. And so am I.” And he plucks my phone out of my pocket and hands it to Ms. Meditation.

I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not staying.”

In answer, he reaches into my bag and pulls out my F-pad and my laptop and surrenders those too. Then he takes the smartwatch right off my wrist and tosses it across the counter.

“You’re fired,” I snarl.

He’s patient. “Remember Liam Reardon?”

A kid in my school. His dad owns, like, half of Google. “What about him?”

“He was a zombie. He never looked away from a screen long enough to make eye contact with a real human. He was hostile. Antisocial. He’d gone through every therapist in the Bay Area and half of the ones in LA. Then his parents sent him here.”

Ms. Meditation nods. “Liam. Wonderful boy. The Oasis made such a difference for him. As it will for you.” The silver eyes bore into me at high intensity until I have to study my sneakers to avoid the onslaught. “The coming weeks will be the turning point of your spiritual life.”

Hot Books
» House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1)
» A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire
» From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1)
» A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime
» Deviant King (Royal Elite #1)
» Den of Vipers
» House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2)
» Sweet Temptation
» The Sweetest Oblivion (Made #1)
» Chasing Cassandra (The Ravenels #6)
» Wreck & Ruin
» Steel Princess (Royal Elite #2)
» Twisted Hate (Twisted #3)
» The Play (Briar U Book 3)
» The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash #4)