The Boundless Sublime Read Online Free PDF Page B

bottles of water they handed out. I looked at him.
    ‘We drink a kind of mineral water,’ explained Stan. ‘Somewhat of an acquired taste. We don’t want to scare you off when we’ve only just met you!’
    The meal was wholesome and tasty. Raw spinach and almond rissoles were drizzled with sage-infused oil. There were two kinds of salads topped with nuts and seeds, and artichokes stuffed with avocado puree. Everything tasted a little over-salted. I remembered Fox adding salt to his applejuice at the café, and wondered why such seemingly healthy people consumed so much salt. Probably a weird commune theory that sodium cured cancer or something.
    The conversation stayed philosophical, and I listened intently as they discussed systems of morality, whether it was possible to be truly objective, and the definition of reality. The only people who didn’t contribute were me and Val, who spent the meal mechanically shovelling food into his mouth, rarely looking up from his plate. Every now and then, Fox pressed his knee against mine under the table and we’d glance at each other, sharing secret smiles.
    ‘Well, Ruby?’ asked Lib, once the meal was over and Welling and Val were clearing away the dishes. ‘What would you like to know?’
    ‘I’m sorry?’ I asked.
    Lib smiled. ‘We’re sure you have lots of questions for us.’
    I hesitated.
    ‘Anything,’ said Lib. ‘You’ll find only honesty here.’
    ‘Are you Christians?’ I asked.
    Stan laughed. Lib shook her head. ‘No, Ruby,’ she said. ‘We’re not religious at all.’
    ‘Religion is for the weak,’ said Stan. ‘We’re not interested in make-believe gods floating around on clouds. We believe in science. The science of possibility.’
    Hippies then, I guessed. They were probably into yoga and homeopathy. I thought of Helena and her healing amber beads. She’d claimed they were validated by science, too.
    ‘What about the water bottles?’ I asked. ‘Why do you hand them out?’
    ‘People get thirsty,’ said Lib. ‘Water is better than some awful sugary soft drink.’
    ‘You’re trying to convince people to be healthier?’
    Lib nodded.
    ‘Imagine how much better the world would be if everyone wasn’t so muddled by the poisons they consume daily,’ said Stan.
    I frowned. ‘So … why isn’t there any other information on the label? About your message? Or a link to a website?’
    ‘What’s a website?’ asked Fox.
    I glanced at him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.
    ‘We aren’t a charity,’ said Stan with a shrug. ‘If people aren’t actively searching for the truth, there’s no website that’s gonna help them.’
    ‘But then why hand out the water bottles?’
    ‘People get thirsty.’
    The whole thing made no sense to me, but I didn’t want to be rude. Instead I offered to help clean up, and Maggie and I were sent into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Maggie filled the sink with cold water – no detergent – and swirled plates and bowls around in it, handing them to me once they were clean to be dried. I thought of Aunty Cath stacking our dishwasher at home, filling the dispensers with detergent and rinse-aid. Cold water seemed to do the job just fine.
    ‘So,’ said Maggie, giving me an evaluating look that reminded me even more of Minah. ‘What do you think?’
    ‘Um,’ I said, trying to figure out a way to be polite.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ she said hastily. ‘I know how it all looks when you first arrive.’
    ‘How long have you been here?’
    ‘A few months. I don’t know how long I’ll stay. I really dig the vibe, you know? The food, and the tranquillity of it all. But I’m not like them.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘This place is just the entry level,’ said Maggie, reaching for another bowl. ‘The really hardcore members are at the Institute. They’ve all lived these incredibly hard lives – so many of them are abuse victims or ex-addicts.’
    The Institute. It sounded creepy.
    ‘I mean, I’ve