RejoovenEsense

Chapter 382,490 wordsCompleted
  • Snowman (Jimmy) reaches the RejoovenEsense Compound. The curtain wall is rusted, the electrified gate broken, and the outer gate shattered. He eats a chocolate energy bar and drinks water before crossing the moat past empty sentry boxes and a permanently open watchtower that once required thumbprint and iris scans.
  • The interior is a deserted garden suburb with faux‑Georgian, Tudor, and French‑provincial houses, streets, a golf course, restaurants, clinics, malls, indoor tennis courts, and hospitals. Off‑limits bio‑form isolation buildings glow orange, and black glass fortresses loom. In the distance the central park holds Crake’s white dome, a cold reminder of past ambition.
  • Snowman moves quickly, avoiding piles of cloth and gnawed human carcasses, noting only skeletal remains after scavengers. Pigoons have trampled lawns, leaving fresh hoof‑marks. He chooses immediate shade and food over the distant mall and turns into a medium‑sized Queen‑Anne house in a residential block.
  • The front door is locked; a diamond‑pane window is smashed, evidence of a previous looter. Inside the air is dank, claustrophobic, and smells of “a thousand bad drains.” Rats scurry; Snowman shouts “Hello!” but receives only silence. He keeps his filthy sheet over his nose for comfort.
  • First finds: a liquor cabinet with a half‑bottle of bourbon and empty bottles; the bathroom contains a man in blue‑maroon striped pajamas on earth‑tone tiles, a marble Jacuzzi, Mexican‑mermaid tiles, hardened gunk in the tub, a bar of soap, a half‑full BlyssPluss bottle, aspirin, and toothpaste (he rejects the dead man’s toothbrush). The mirror is smashed, symbolizing fragmented rage.
  • In the bedroom a woman lies under a pink‑gold duvet, wearing a leopard‑print nightie and a wig reminiscent of Oryx. Snowman recalls high‑school diary‑reading habits, a classmate Brenda, and her robotic dog. He sprays a bottle labeled “Crack Cocaine” (musky scent) but opts for bourbon instead.
  • He confronts his own hollow‑cheeked, bug‑scarred reflection in a cracked oval mirror, feeling a stranger stare back and briefly imagining the woman turning toward him, echoing Oryx’s wig‑playing.
  • He exchanges his filthy sheet for a fresh floral‑patterned one from the linen closet, discarding the old one despite an internal “mother’s voice”. He gathers basic provisions: dry cereal, three packets of cashew nuts, a tin of SoyOBoy sardines, half‑empty ketchup, and the bourbon. He avoids the refrigerator, fearing contamination.
  • He collects a working flashlight, candle ends, matches, a plastic garbage bag, two dull knives, and a small cooking pot. In the hallway he finds a small home office with a dead computer, fax, printer, pens, and reference books (dictionary, thesaurus, Bartlett’s, Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry). A scribbled note reads “GET LAWN MOWED” with faint “Call clinic …”, suggesting the occupant was a RejoovenEsense speechwriter or spin‑doctor dealing with sudden illness.
  • The chapter emphasizes Snowman’s desperate survival amid a world turned into an uncontrolled experiment, echoing Crake’s doctrine of unintended consequences. Decayed luxury juxtaposes brutal present. Memories of Oryx, past voyeurism, and his fragmented identity surface, reinforcing isolation. He feels as if he is breaking into his own house from twenty‑five years ago, merging Jimmy and Snowman.