DISCLAIMER: This title contains coarse language and mature content. It is not suitable for readers 18 years of age or younger.
PART III
I GOT YOUR MUFFIN RIGHT HERE
Chapter 66
The Great Ohhhmmmmmmmm
Amsterdam, The Netherlands - Outside the Anne Frank House
Saturday, September 17, 2005, 2:03 p.m.
There was a blast of white light. There were streaks of screaming fluorescent color. There was the sensation of being swallowed by a tornado. And then there was friendship. Lots and lots of friendship.
They both felt the flash that time. Hell yeah, they did.
Jason could barely speak. "What are you doing here? I'm just ... this is ... I mean, wow. Just ... wow. How'd you even find me?"
Theo was wearing those same beat-up moccasins and blue-and-green pullover. "I dunno. You wanted to see Amsterdam, so I took a chance. We saw The Band Wagon in your guidebook, yeh? I just had a feeling you'd be here. I can't explain it."
Jason looked at Theo, and blinked, and while it may have taken his eyelids only a second to close and then open again, it was like wiping a squeegee on a windshield, sponging away a translucent layer of grime. The result was that he was now able to perceive a world more textured and nuanced than he ever noticed before, but one that had actually been there all along.
Jason was stunned by the notion that Theo had trekked thousands of miles-on a whim-just on the chance he might be here. So Jason looked at Theo, his friend ... really looked at him ... in one way bewildered and honored and overwhelmed with gratitude, and in another way not at all surprised, because that was Theo.
Would I have done the same? Would I have taken that chance?
"What?" Theo laughed at Jason's laughter. "What?"
And Jason kept right on smiling. I would. I really would.
They came in from the rain, checked Theo into The Band Wagon, and then caught up with Jackie and Omar, who stayed an extra hour at the Anne Frank House, and looked every minute of it. The four bunkmates agreed to find a quiet diversion, to unwind, and as came as no surprise to anyone, Jackie knew just the place.
***
Jason had never been to a hash bar. And given that Hell would have to freeze at least ten times over before he would bungee jump, skydive or vote Republican, for him, this was extreme living. He stood at the bar while Jackie and Omar took seats at a table near the open café windows, each drinking a pint. Theo ordered a hefeweizen.
Jason examined his ganjanic options displayed beneath the glass countertop, deciding between Nederhash (hash made from Dutch weed), Hydro (weed grown using hydroponics), and Hashish (imported from places unknown). This was to be the first joint he ever bought, so he wanted to pick just right. "Third from the left," he finally said.
Two beers down, the foursome passed the joint, and after just a few minutes, there wasn't a wide eye among them.
"So, dude," Jason began. Warm, elongated waves rolled over him.
Ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ...
"Theo," he finally said. "What the hell happened to you in Budapest?"
Ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ...
"Dude, I mean ..."
Ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ... ohhhmmmmmmmm ...
"... how did you miss that train?"
Chapter 67
Circular Logic of the Puzzle Book Maze
Budapest, Hungary - Keleti Pu Train Station
Sunday, September 11, 2005, 10:33 a.m.
A week before finding Jason in Amsterdam-and just hours after losing him in the first place-Theo sat on a wobbly metal chair at the Keleti Pu train station café in Budapest. He ate a cheese sandwich Lilly bought him.
It was the least she could do, she said. Only Lilly had introduced herself as Liz. Elizabeth was her full name, explaining that it even said so on her passport. Theo wasn't sure why she needed to clarify her documentation, but he was too annoyed to care.
Lilly-calling herself Liz-was painting again. Sports themes. Tennis. But she wanted to incorporate the athleticism of competition with the nuance and scope of the European cultures. Liz did a sketch for him. In it, Theo was eating his sandwich at the very table he was leaning on, except the tabletop was like the head of a tennis racket, and instead of cheese, a long piece of netting dangled from the roll.
"That's good." Theo smiled despite himself, feeling a sudden flash of color in his mind, and though they were becoming less intense, more subtle, he had a sense they weren't warnings so much as signs. "Yeh, really good."
"Thanks. I just got back into it. I had some ... trouble ... you know. Life got kinda complicated, but I'm getting it together."
Theo nodded politely, but behind those steady eyes he was blood-boiling furious. Yet rather than vent that rage at Liz-whom he did not know was Lilly, Jason's Lilly-he just sat there quietly picking at his food. He nodded.
"I got a little distracted for awhile," she said, "but I met this woman in Arizona ... this like ... totally amazing woman, and she's sponsoring me here. She said 'Lil-Liz.' She said 'Liz ... Liz, go to Europe. And when you come back, you'll paint a masterpiece.'"
Inexplicably, Theo saw Lea just then, as if she was right there with him, wearing her safety helmet with the miner's light in front. Her face was vivid for just a moment, so close and real he could almost smell the beetroot on her breath. "Oh, yeh?"
"I couldn't believe it. But when I found out who she was ... it made total sense."
Theo put his sandwich down. "What do you mean? Who-?"
"So who was your friend? Again, I'm totally sorry. Seriously. I'm just ..." Liz rolled her eyes at herself. "I'm such a total spaz like that." She forced out a laugh, craning her neck so that her breasts jiggled. "My brains and my body are hardly ever in the same place. It's like they start at opposite ends of those puzzle book mazes ..."
Theo nodded, trying not to stare at her breasts-they were right there, after all-round, ripe and freckled, hoisted out.
"... figuring they'll meet in the middle, but at least one of them always seems to take a wrong turn and get stuck somewhere. By the time they find each other, the maze is wrecked and I have to start over."
As Theo sat there staring blankly, nibbling on tiny pieces of his roll, he knew he should be tempted to jam his face in between her melons. But there was something about Liz that made him shake it off, like he was staring at a mirage. Except Theo knew the illusion wasn't with her.
Theo had been anxious and deflated ever since he watched Jason pull out of the station. Only Theo wasn't supposed to get worked up over things like this. He was a private guy with private thoughts and couldn't talk to other people about them because he hardly made sense, even to himself. But he could talk to Jason. Theo didn't know why, but he could. And it wasn't just that they had been separated. It was why.
Did I really need to whiz in the station bathroom? Not the train? Really? I couldn't have waited just five more minutes?
Indeed, the station facilities were more spacious. And when you spend so much time in cramped quarters, you crave mobility whenever possible.
But as much as Theo wanted to blame Liz for knocking him flat on his back, he knew that getting split up had been a possibility, and exactly what happened. Deep down he wanted that challenge. That thrill. Was he resourceful enough to actually track Jason down across the continent? A part of Theo was trying to explore the Waitomo Caves all over again, not so much to hang out with Jason, but to find him.
While Theo sat there, in his mind's eye seeing himself run from train to train, city to city, country to country, reality set in. What if I can't find him? Theo could always look up Jason in New York, or e-mail him someplace now and hope to get a response. But what if things aren't the same? What if I split us up for good? He knew he was making a terrible mistake. He stood up from the table. "I have to go. I'm going to find Jason."
Liz stumbled, cleared her throat. "I'll, uh ... I'll come with you."
***
11-09-05
G'day Mum,
Sorry I missed your birthday, but I got you a nice present in Berlin.
My money's been holding out, and I still haven't made it to Portugal. Tell Dad I want to see that whirlybird ready for flight by the time I get back. It's about time that thing got off the ground.
And let Roger know I'm having a whale of a good time. He'll know what it means.
Theo
Chapter 68
The Faith in Faith
The Southern Sphere of Eternity - Starlight Designs
Milky Way's Public Unveiling: T-Minus 4 Days (Eternity Standard Time)
Lex was on a mission. Indeed, with another three galaxies now officially under contract and the Milky Way unveiling only four days away, his already considerable salary was about to double, if not triple. Indeed, he had moved into a balcony apartment with a view of the Grand Lion River, upgraded his wardrobe, bought a black convertible, and as a result of Emma's-and by extension, his own-rising status, he could land a quality table at almost any chi-chi restaurant.
And indeed, he clearly established himself as the No. 2 executive at Starlight Designs, having quietly encouraged Tyler to make a design suggestion to Emma, who fired him before he could finish speaking.
But Rufus. Motherfucking Rufus.
Lex didn't know who the bastard was, or why Emma brought him into their lives, but he wasn't going to watch Rufus stroll into her inner sanctum while he sat around like her lapdog begging for attention.
Six pints of beer, three shots of something related to pineapple and a small square tab of chemical fun were all coursing through him. Lex fumbled for the keys to the office, which he dropped on the sidewalk-twice-before making his way inside. A half moon hung from the night sky.
Lex stumbled into his office and closed the clear glass door. He leaned back in his chair. From his trousers pocket, he removed a red tin, and from it pinched a tiny white pill, which he swallowed. Lex then laughed his drunken, hallucinated laugh, a laugh quite similar to the laugh he laughed the night he was fired from Quality Galaxy Fabrics, right before Emma found him facedown in a pile of discarded peanut shells. The night before she saved him.
"Oh oh oh oh uh-oh. Another bad night for Lexie-pooh. Lexie-pooh is getting all bad-bad again. Uh-oh, uh-oh."
He powered on his computer. The flat screen's glow cast shadows on the wall. He began typing, such as he could, barely able to make out the letters on the screen.
Deeer Emmer,
Yooouuu, do yu evn know me Emmer?? Becaiuse Iknoww youuuu and yu know what I see? I sse yyou andI see mee and I seee him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lex swiped at his computer, but missed, falling sideways.
"Ohh. Tsch. See? Lexi-pooh on the floor again." He sighed, tugging his tie. "Now I gotta pee." With that, Lex pulled himself up, unzipped his fly. And while staring at the moonlight as it rolled in through the half moon window, he urinated into his wastebasket, which, he would remember in the morning, was cross-hatched, and not solid. "Ohhh ... no." He laughed. "Got pee-pee on my hands."
Lex staggered to the kitchen. With the warm water cascading off his fingers and onto his leg, he turned toward Emma's office. He could see a dim light come from behind the frosted glass door.
Tiptoeing with intoxicated grace, Lex stood beside the door, open just enough to peer inside. A thin beam of light streaked across the otherwise dark hallway. Lex put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh." He almost choked holding in his giggle.
Lex leaned into the outer door frame. He could see Emma sitting on the floor, her back against the desk. Rufus sat adjacent to her, against the wall. A full-color rendering of the Milky Way hung above him. The only light came from a lamp on Emma's desk.
"I don't think he likes me," Rufus said. "I think he's jealous."
Emma dropped her hands. "Don't worry about Lex. He's not wired to be top dog, but when it comes to managing the daily grind ... he's got that nailed. I just gave him a push. And if not me it would have been someone else. He just needs to trust himself a little more. He's afraid to be his own rock."
Lex then heard something else surprising, from someone who surprised him.
"Do you tell him?" Rufus said. "Does he know you think that way?"
Emma shook her head. "No. I don't tell him."
"Can I ask you-?"
"You're my only real friend. You can ask me anything."
"Why don't you tell him that you are lonely? That a woman with dreams and ambition is something most people do not like to see, and whether they admit it or not, would relish in seeing you fail?"
"You've been talking." Emma unfolded a paper clip. "I've been hearing this a lot lately."
Rufus chuckled. "Always so afraid to need someone, to have faith."
Emma snapped the paper clip, tossed it in the bin. "Faith in what?"
"In faith," Rufus said. "As you told me once when I most needed to hear it, you have to trust that believing in other people is better than only believing in yourself."
"I believe in you," Emma said. "I always believe in you."
"Just as I believe in you. But we cannot be everything to each other. We tried. We just do not fit that way. No two people can."
Lex heard nothing now except for the sad, steady beats of his own heart.
Boom-buhm, boom-buhm, boom-buhm.
"I know," Emma said. "But I'm not ready to have faith in anyone else. Do you ... you know ...?" She looked away. "... have faith in anyone?"
There was silence. Lex licked his lips. He waited.
"No. It has not worked out so far, but I am trying."
"Oh, yeah? So who's this mystery woman?"
Lex felt his heart speed up again. His hands were sweaty.
"Her name is Angelique. She has a nightclub act. We just met."
Lex pumped his fist in victory.
Emma got up, straightened her skirt and then took her place behind the desk. The wheels on her chair rolled against the hardwood floor. She fumbled with some papers. "I have a lot to do for the unveiling." She looked up, but only at the rendering of the Milky Way, the image she would be most associated with for the rest of her days. "I think you should go."
Rufus stood before her now, separated by more than just the desk. "Don't be mad, Emma. My heart is still with you. But I have to let someone else in. I have to try. What if today were to be my last? Who would comfort me but you?"
"I really have this work," she said.
Rufus nodded. "Your day has come. I will be there to smile on you, as always."
Before Lex snuck away, he saw what he otherwise thought impossible: a stream of tears rolling down Emma's face. And for a moment, Lex felt compassion for her. And as much as he hated to admit it, for Rufus.
"I know you will." Emma wiped her eyes. "But you still need to go."
Chapter 69
Training Day
The Northern Sphere of Eternity - CBM Training Center
Milky Way's Public Unveiling: T-Minus 39 Minutes (Eternity Standard Time)
It was her first time back since the Milo warning. With the auditorium sloped upward like a giant shoehorn, Danielle sat in the 349th seat of the 2,013th row, just off center, approximately two-thirds to the left and slightly below the middle. Present, but nearly invisible.
Illuminated with fluorescent lime bulbs underneath, a curved, white countertop stretched from end to end of each row. Gray carpeted stairs on both sides extended from the platform level all the way to the top of the auditorium. There were no windows. The overhead lighting was dim.
Bound manuals were set on the countertops, one in front of each employee. The covers read: Safety and Protocol: CBM Operations, Management and Procedures. The bottom right corner was marked by the following:
Authorized
The Minder of the Universe
***
For a facility that stored every drop of cosmic building material in Existence, the CBM Center was a nondescript building on a lot two miles off the main road. From the outside, the industrial facility did not appear particularly tall, wide or long, and was desperate for a hosing down. There was graffiti and mud splatters on the outer walls.
Donald walked through the parking lot, empty but for a few stragglers. The sky was passing through its cranberry stage, fading into a darker maroon. He always enjoyed this phase, especially by the beach, with Danielle, listening to the ocean's whoosh.
But the sky seemed more foreboding now, like the heart of the cosmos had been sliced open, smeared with its own blood. And while Donald believed the sky would eventually fade to purple-it always had-perhaps it wouldn't this time. Maybe it would remain bloodstained forever. Maybe his destiny was such that for all his days he would look up, seeing nothing but dark red-his all-encompassing guilt.
Alone, Donald approached the security booth. He shuddered as his foot scraped along the asphalt, feeling that his presence was unmistakable, magnified as the brilliant yellow sunshine beamed down on him. Only on him. A red tag hung from his neck.
***
Danielle looked behind her, to the top row, and then at the bottom, thinking the speaker would have been impossible to see if not for the tremendous screen behind him, his image projected a thousand times larger than he actually was. Or else each attendee could look upon a shrunken image of him on individual video screens that extended up from each countertop. Giant master or tiny voice. Or both.
The meeting was mandatory for all day-shift CBM employees. The auditorium was filled to capacity. Donald was not in attendance.
So that when Danielle closed her eyes and saw herself snuggled in her husband's nook, she could feel his warmth as his chest would rise and sink with each easy breath.
***
Donald nodded to the security guard, as he had done every day. From behind the window, the guard glanced at the security pass, paused, and then returned the nod.
There was a click and a buzz, followed by a metal clank. The cross-hatched metal gate opened. Donald walked through. The gate clanked shut behind him, locking him in.
As he came upon the warehouse, Donald couldn't help but be aware of just how much his left knee itched. He stopped, reached down to scratch. So that when he closed his eyes, he had a singular picture in his mind. And it was perfect.
***
Lawrence stood at the podium. The CBM warehouse manager cleared his throat. He held a long pointer.
Danielle looked side to side, behind and below. She kept hoping Donald would show up.
***
The CBM center consisted of three sections. In front was the shipping warehouse, in back were the executive and accounting offices, and there was the CBM warehouse, neither in front nor in back, above or below, next to or around, inside or out. It was accessible only through a service elevator in the basement, leading to a room that did not register on a blueprint. You were either inside the warehouse, or you weren't.
***
"It has come to our attention," Lawrence said, "that perhaps we have not been serving you well." He addressed them from behind the podium, so very far away and below, except that his image was projected on the massive screen behind him. The auditorium fell silent. "While we should be striving toward a common goal, it appears that we have become ... disjointed. Yes, that's it. Individuals working separately, but with no sense of belonging. Without community."
Danielle scribbled on her manual: Community. Community my ass.
She smirked. But when she picked up her eyes, Lawrence was staring at her, both through the giant screen and her individual video monitor.
"From what I can gather," he continued, "you don't put much stock in my words."
Danielle's eyes drew wide, certain that Lawrence was talking only to her. Feverishly, she erased the last line.
"I don't blame you," he said, "because I wouldn't believe me either."
Chapter 70
Where's Waldo?
Eastern Europe - Somewhere Between Budapest and Prague
Sunday, September 11, 2005, 1:49 p.m.
Headed on the 20:26 train as it rumbled along from Budapest to Prague, Lilly wouldn't use his name. She said him, or your friend, or your buddy, but not Jason.
Sitting across from Theo as he disappeared in his guidebook, Lilly wondered if he noticed, if he was suspicious of her. Her heart beat faster and faster.
But how could he know what I'm thinking? Is he waiting for the right moment to spring it on me? To mash me into emotional pulp? To expose me for the fraud that I am?
Lilly-posing as Liz-looked out as the telephone poles sped by like the seconds of her life. One second. Then the next. Then the next.
***
Theo reasoned that if Jason wasn't on the Charles Bridge, then maybe he would be in a nearby hostel. So Theo made a list, starting with the hostels closest to the bridge and then expanded the radius. He had ten in all. He would stop at each and every one if that's what it took.
With the train chugging along, Theo was hoping to ditch Liz, and not because she was either nervous and hyper or oddly silent, but because she was there. It was his quest to find Jason, not theirs.
***
Lilly didn't want to see his face, didn't want to remember. She distorted Jason into this generic torso with his head blotted out, like a confidential mob witness doing a TV interview. Lilly wanted to hold onto the idea of Jason, to a feeling about him, but suppress it, keeping it at a great distance, on the outermost edge of her consciousness. The final, smallest moon in the deepest orbit around the farthest planet of her heart.
***
Their train sat for an hour, until finally it was sent back to Budapest. Someone said there was a track fire. Lots of damage. "Oh, this is fucked," Theo said.
Back at the Keleti Pu station, he thumbed through his timetable. They could take a train to Vienna, then switch to another in Prague. "It leaves in ...," and he counted on his fingers, "we've got about two hours."
"Won't that take longer?" Liz said. "Maybe we should just stay here and wait. It's a major line. They'll have to fix it."
Theo had the feeling that Liz didn't want them going to Prague, that she wanted to stick around Budapest, just not alone. This was his chance to break free. "Maybe," he said. "I dunno. No. Fuck it. I'm going to Vienna. Yeh. That's it."
"Why don't we eat first," Liz said. "I'm starving."
Theo looked at his watch. His stomach growled.
***
Lilly-posing as Liz-watched over Theo as he slept in the bottom bunk, back at Your Best Days #14. He was covered in sweat, wrecked from food poisoning. He had been in the bathroom for more than an hour. Bad borscht.
"You just sleep," she said. "You need your rest. We'll wait it out."
Lilly went to the pub. She stared at the Mona Lisa, just not the Mona Lisa, wondering if the old gal had ever gotten herself into such a fine mess. Lilly watched smoke rings dissipate into the crimson air. Garbage was playing on the sound system. Lilly slugged down a shot of tequila.
"... I'm only happy when it rains ..."
"... I'm only happy when it's com-pli-cated ..."
Pushing those memories down.
"... And though I know you can't appre-ci-ate it ..."
"... I'm only happy when it rains ..."
Keeping the faces far away.
***
By the time they finally made their way into Prague and set foot on the Charles Bridge, at noon, Jason was nowhere to be found.
Lilly exerted all of her might to keep from trembling, knowing that Jason could come walking up at any moment, unaware that he had already left the city. "Maybe ... he just never made it. Or maybe he already left. You said he was sick."
"He was definitely here," Theo said. "He made it."
"How do you-?"
"Because," Theo broke in, although Lilly could see that he wanted to say even more. "If he says he'll do something, he does it. You can count on him."
"Yeah," Lilly said. "I know what you mea-"
Theo looked at her strangely.
"I mean ... you know ... from the way you talk about him. It just sounds like ... you know. Like ... you wouldn't go to all this trouble for someone you can't trust ..."
Oh, god. He knows. He totally knows.
Theo nodded. "Yeh," he said. "True."
***
They leaned on the ledge of the Charles Bridge, staring out onto the Vltava River. Dark like chocolate milk, it flowed through the arches of the gothic bridge that connected Old Town and Malá Strana. They shared a pack of salt and vinegar chips.
After three days and no Jason, Theo was getting tired. Disheartened. Lilly could see his crumbling resolve. Time to make a move. "You know," she said finally, "I can't believe I didn't make the connection."
"What's that?"
"Oh ..." Lilly turned away. She gnawed on a chip. She saw a pair of tighty whities in the muddy water, caught on a fallen branch. "Never mind. Forget it." She dusted the salt from her hands. The crumbs fell to the river. "You wouldn't be ... it's just too-"
"No," Theo said. "What?"
"So, like, this woman I know from back home? The one I told you about? Emma? I can't believe I didn't think of it before, but ..." As predicted, Theo was interested in her proposition. He needed something to feel good about. "She wants someone right away. She never stops bitching about it. 'My garden is so neglected, blah, blah, blah.' She's got money like Bill Gates and decorates like Liberace. And from what you've told me, you're just what she's looking for."
Lilly dangled a chip over the muddy river. Unconsciously, she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Pressing. Pressing. She watched Theo as he looked about the bridge. People holding hands. Artists doing sketches. A guitarist with a hat at his feet.
"You want to see a picture?" Lilly said. "I can show you."
***
Theo had been so sure he was going to find Jason. Just sure of it. When Liz had asked how he knew Jason had already been there, what he wanted to say was: Because the colors swirling in my mind tell me so.
But it was becoming impossible to ignore the truth: he wasn't going to find him. And Theo knew it was his fault. So he thought about floating in the still, cool waters, underground in the Waitomo Caves. His favorite place in the world.
They found a cyber café on their way back to the train station. They logged onto Emma's Web site.
Liz was pushing hard. "It looks great, right? Isn't it beautiful?"
Theo sat on a bar stool, staring at the screen. He felt Liz's hand on his shoulder. The monitor displayed a pillared mansion and a three-tiered fountain. "It's awesome. Um ... what's the pay?"
"A thousand now, a thousand when you get there, and then you can work out the rest. All cash. Plus plane fare there and back home. I can't believe it took me this long to think of it. You should totally do it. You'd be great."
"Oh, I dunno," Theo said, although two thousand American dollars was worth double that in New Zealand. For that kind of money, he could rebuild his greenhouse and plan another trip around the world. He felt Liz squeeze his shoulder.
"I think you'd be fantastic," she said into his ear.
"I ... uh ...," he said.
***
Lilly felt uneasy with her hand on Theo's shoulder. Am I really like Emma says? Am I a ...? She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth again, feeling as if she would break through into her brain at any moment. She looked at Theo as he craned his neck to face her. She smiled. "It's a big decision, definitely. But you get involved with her ... your life's never the same. Trust me. There's no one like her."
And thank God for that.
Lilly could see that Theo was fidgety, debating his options.
"I," he started. "I ..."
Just fucking do it already!
"Uh ...," Theo said. "Well ... yeh. Okay."
"Really? You will?"
Theo nodded. "Yeh. Fuck it. Let's do it."
"Oh! This is great!" Lilly hugged him from behind. "I'll tell Emma."
"Okay. I gotta pee." Theo lumbered off to the bathroom.
Lilly's hands shook. "Wine," she blurted out, cried briefly, and then wiped away a tear. "Ride wine."
She signaled for the waitress, who took the order. Lilly then reached for her bag. Leaning forward, she raised her head, only to clunk it on the bottom of the table. "Ow. Shoot." She winced, kicking her foot in frustration, but in doing so, knocked over Theo's knapsack. Lilly picked it up. One of the pockets was open halfway. She stared at the dangling zipper like a cat in the grass, stalking a bird as it flew by.
Lilly glanced inside. She could see a plastic bag sticking out from underneath Theo's baseball cap. She reached in to get it. But then she stopped. "I just ... no. Stop it. Cut it out." She zipped the pocket closed and held the bag close. She waited for her drink. Hugging the bag. Waiting. Waiting. And then she unzipped the pocket.
***
Theo stood over the sink. He stared in the mirror. He splashed water on his face. Am I insane to go with her? But America, yeh? Fucking America. Theo hesitated then, a final respect to Jason. His friend. I tried, mate. I really did.
And when Theo made his way back, he snatched his bag from Liz.
"It was an accident," she said. "I couldn't help but notice. What is it?"
Theo scowled, disgusted with himself. Serves me fucking right. I knew it.
"I'm ... I'm sorry," Liz said. "It fell open and I ..."
Theo opened the plastic bag, and for some reason, felt defiant in showing her what was inside. What had gotten him started in the first place, but had become more burden than treasure. "Here," he said. "Look." There were six pictures in all. One each from different angles. Pictures of an item. A special item. A glass jar.
"What, uh ... what is it?"
"Something I found."
"It's nice." Liz squinted, as if afraid he was going to belt her in the face. "Where is it?"
Theo looked at her. His heart raced. His throat became tight and dry. "Someplace safe," he said, and went silent, ashamed for having doubted his instincts, for bailing on his friend. For giving up.
I can still find him. There's still time.
***
The words echoed in Lilly's mind: Someplace safe. And suddenly the gears in her mind found each other, spun effortlessly. "Ohhhhh," she said. "Oh." Lilly felt like Theo was wearing a T-shirt with an arrow pointing in her direction, reading: I'm With Useless.
Emma doesn't want Theo. She wants the jar.
Totally. Fucking. Useless.
Yet somehow, despite her humiliation, Lilly couldn't help but think that maybe it was just what she needed. So she started to cry.
***
"Hey." Theo lifted his rucksack. "Are you ...?"
Why am I feeling bad for her? Screw her.
And still he reached for Liz, rubbed her back. Gently. "You okay?"
***
Lilly squeezed her eyes shut until she saw colored rings pulsing against the blackness in her mind. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth again, as if she would break through and make her head explode once and for all. And then a strange thing happened.
***
"I'm gonna look for Jason. I know where he is. At least I think so."
"Really?"
Theo looked at Liz as she raised her head. Her eyes were messy with tears and remorse and something else he couldn't quite decipher, and yet he seemed to understand perfectly. And for the first time since they met, Theo liked what he saw. "I just do," he said. "I just do."
***
Lilly stared in Theo's direction, but in her mind's eye all she could see was a barreling figure and her dog, their faces blotted out, until finally they just faded away. Emma no longer mattered.
Lilly stared in Theo's direction, but in her mind's eye all she could see was Jason's face again, her heart dancing with an extra thumpety-thump. She saw Jason because she let herself see him. Because she wanted to.
And as Lilly stared in Theo's direction, in her mind's eye she could see one other man. The one she missed most of all.
Chapter 71
I Can't Believe It's Not Butter
The Southern Sphere of Eternity - Titan Hall
Milky Way's Public Unveiling: T-Minus 11 Minutes, 54 Seconds (Eternity Standard Time)
Emma stood on the marble platform of Titan Hall, above the crowd. A long planter of roses stretched out before her. The waters of Titan Lake glittered beneath the morning sun. The sky was lime green. The sun was golden and warm. "I'm a fucking rock star," she said to herself.
Behind her was the entrance to Titan Hall. Its four fluted columns projected dignity and strength. Grandeur and power. "This is fucking great."
It was an amazing sight, as an almost endless sea of Eternitarians gathered below on the great lawn, along the lake. The constant murmur sounded like a pack of squawking gulls.
Mohpmohpmohpmohp ... wahh ... sshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... oooshhhhhhhh.
The media clustered along the staircases on both sides of the platform. Cameras clicked. Video recorders whirred. Microphones dangled.
Standing at the podium, Emma realized that if she blurred her vision by crossing her eyes, she could morph the crowd into a massive amoeba. It was like butter smeared on a green bagel with a giant blue hole in the middle. And when she relaxed her vision, they were people again, with hopes and dreams, worries and pain. She liked them better as an amoeba.
Emma repeated this-transmuting them from crowd to condiment, condiment to crowd-biting her bottom lip to keep from guffawing at the power she had over them.
Clear ... people. Blurry ... butter.
Clear ... people. Blurry ... butter.
The slew of reporters, most notably from Top Galaxy Design, Cosmic Designer Digest and Galactic Fabric Review, gathered with their little notepads open, eager to take down every last word that flowed from Emma's lips.
Emma craned her neck, only to see Lex standing slightly behind and to the side of the podium, swallowing yet another one of his little white doofus pills. Next to him was Jacques Abladeujé, an arrangement Emma was sure had Lex in a twist.
Jacques nodded at Emma, and then gestured to the crowd. Rufus was standing at the tip of the giant amoeba, rooting for Emma, as always.
She shuddered a wondrous, goose-bumpy sensation. And finally her throat drew tight and dry, knowing as she looked down that never again would Rufus hold her. And that without him, her only friend, she was nowhere. She was lost.
Emma smiled at Rufus. She raised her eyebrows. It was the closest she had ever come to saying the words thank you.
Jacques had already introduced her. He announced that based on her stupendous work-both on the Blue-Bubbled Dumbbell Nebula, and the newest, most spectacular galaxy in eons, which she was about to unveil-Renolo Enterprises signed her to design three new galaxies, the largest contract ever awarded to an independent firm.
Indeed, Emma could feel the collective surge of energy. But for a moment, the chatter seemed to go quiet.
In the distance she could see the reflective tips of the Titan Towers. And like a wink from the heavens, in the shade of a single white cloud they all went dark ... one ... two ... three ... and then, as the cloud drifted away, the tips sparkled again ... one ... two ... three.
Surrounded, Emma took them all in-the media, the giant amoeba, the towers-and wet the very lips they clung to, wondering what it would be like to vanish from that most grandiose stage, to never face that pressure again.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Emma clenched her pelvis, once, and then again. It reminded her that this single moment-perhaps her very last as such-was about her and her alone, and that the forthcoming frenzy would be about them and what they wanted from her. That the spectators were waiting for someone, anyone, to give them a purpose. To give them hope. And that they would be merciless and unforgiving if they were disappointed.
Inhaling the sweet scent of anxiety and roses, of thrill and moisture, Emma breathed in and then out. In ... then out. In ... then out.
She looked out at the giant amoeba surrounding Titan Lake. She looked up at the lime green of the morning sky. She felt the golden sunshine on her face. Her destiny would wait no more. "Time to kick their asses," Emma said finally. "It's show time."
***
Emma addressed the crowd, that giant, faceless amoeba. "... when I told them you were sick of being spoon-fed the same galaxies. When I told them they could fool themselves, but that they couldn't fool you ..." Emma saw the crowd grow silent. The media was frozen with awe.
She had them.
"... they knew, deep down, I was right."
She so fucking had them.
Emma unfurled her brow, and then allowed the masses to come into focus, the cluster of individual faces yearning for more, for a voice to carry them forward.
"I stood right in their offices," she recalled, and pointed to a high-rise on the other side of Titan Hall. "I looked them square in the eye. I told them they were all just perpetuating the nonsense of their own gospel. That they had lost their way, convinced they should think for you, instead of talking to you."
And with that, a massive purple laser beamed from each of the four pillars behind her and into the lime green sky. They ultimately thinned into four points. Together-one each beginning at the four corners-the purple lasers burned a rectangle into the heavens.
Oooh, the audience said. Click-click, the cameras went. Aaah, the audience said.
"And finally," Emma announced. "Here it is." Adrenaline blasted through her like rocket fuel. She pointed to the giant rectangle. "The Milky Way, ladies and gentlemen. And the centerpiece of it all. The Solar ... System."
The rectangular outline filled with blackness. The size of a football field, the canvas was so close that the crowd, the press ... even Emma herself ... scrunched their necks, ducking, like this monolith might descend and crush them into humus. As if the sky itself had fallen.
From hidden speakers came a low, steady introduction:
... RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE ...
A keyboard bass note reverberated up their legs, along their spines and down their arms. The spectators uttered gasps of excitement and wonder. They turned to one another, inspecting their hands, feeling the energy channeling through them.
And then, as Emma had expected, the sea of onlookers came under a collective hush. Their attentions were drawn once again to that enormous black football field, with her out in front of Titan Hall, on the marble platform, as if conducting an orchestra.
Thousands of tiny white stars announced themselves with a flash. They appeared against the blackness like microwave popcorn crackling inside the bag, slow at first ... pop ... pop ... pop ... and then a little faster ... pop-pop ... pop-pop ... and faster ... pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop... until finally it was a frenzy of stars vegetating the image of this new galaxy, a fireworks display celebrating the future, rather than the past.
The keyboard bass note grew louder and louder. Hairs on necks stood up. Penises hardened. Breasts tightened. The vibration connected everyone to everything. The ground was shaking. The buildings were shaking. The audience was shaking. They wondered if they were in the midst of creation itself, which, of course, they were.
... RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE ... KA-BOOM!
The audience leaned back. Their eyes went wide. They gasped and gawked at the black monolith. It appeared, like a mammoth doorway, about to unleash the enormity of the Universe on the other side of Eternity.
And in the center blackness, a thousand tiny stars peppering the background, the greatest star of all finally flashed before them. Its luminescence evolved from a billowy white to a soft yellow, and then thicker, thicker and thicker still, until a deep, rich, tangy yellow exuded warmth and life. Pride and power. The single perfect sun for this most perfect star system.
The audience cheered and cried. They hugged and roared with applause. And then from the speakers came another ground-shaking thunder.
... RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE ... KA-BOOM!
With an outstretched hand, Emma introduced the first planet, which she named after the first diamond of Organic Beauty. The scorching planet erupted before them. It fell into a close orbit around the sun. "Mercury!" The audience clapped and roared again.
... RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE ... KA-BOOM!
The second-a large, yellowish-white planet-appeared and fell into its own, wider orbit around the sun. "Venus!" The audience roared again.
... RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE ... KA-BOOM!
Emma then announced the next planet. Rather than name the blue and green orb after the third diamond of Organic Beauty-Earth, as should have followed, and approved by The Minder of the Universe-she gave it the only name in Existence that could desecrate the ceremony.
"Emma," she shouted, declaring the planet's moniker. "Emma."
The giant amoeba let out another series of oohs, aahs and whispers, suspecting-correctly-that Emma had called an audible, that she had made a statement that could not be unmade. Designers were forbidden from naming a planet after themselves. Ever. No exceptions. Emma knew as much. She simply chose to ignore it.
Lex's jaw hung open. Jacques Abladeujé shook his head. Rufus smiled, and then closed his eyes.
Following each subsequent KA-BOOM! Emma introduced the other six planets, named after the remaining diamonds of Organic Beauty-Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto, which, after much deliberation (and a best, two-out-of-three rock, paper, scissors) made the final cut. The nine planets fell into place. More than one hundred moons orbited them. An asteroid belt maintained in a final outer orbit. And in the center of it all was one glorious sun.
Emma basked in the majesty of her design. She put both hands on the podium, straightened her back. She offered a confident smile. Saliva was clammy in her mouth.
Okay. Here we go. I had my moment.
"The Solar System," she said. "The Milky Way. Are there any questions?"
With the roar of the audience, the press erupted with a hailstorm of comments, including: Do you think there will be fallout from naming a planet after yourself?
Emma took a breath, allowing herself one last look at her creation. At the giant amoeba. At Lex. At Jacques. At Rufus.
And before she could answer, there was a blast of white light. There were streaks of screaming fluorescent color. There was the sensation of being sucked through a tornado. And there was a body. A big, fat body.
Chapter 72
A Part of Everything, the Whole of Nothing
The Northern Sphere of Eternity - CBM Training Center
Time Elapsed Since Milky Way's Public Unveiling: 14 Seconds (Eternity Saving Time)
"But things change," Lawrence said. "When I woke up this morning and received word ... I held my anger. Again I reminded myself why it is important to clarify ... to elaborate ... to fortify our overall philosophy. Because if we don't understand the goals of the organization, how can we participate with consistency and determination?"
There was a collective murmuring. Heads turned. There was shifting in seats. This wasn't what they expected. "But then I thought ... fuck 'em. I've been clear and specific throughout."
Again there was a ruffling of papers and murmuring, but when Danielle thought about the only question that mattered to her-why did all this happen to me?-and when she considered the answer, she frowned, as there seemed little point in asking.
***
Donald held his security pass, considered the responsibility attached to it. He knew what it would mean to step inside the elevator, to hear the gears and cables stretch and pull, to feel himself traveling-although not up or down, side to side, forward or back, but moving nonetheless-and then have the doors slide open again.
His heart was a panting dog. His heart was a fire alarm.
As he reached up toward the scanner, in his mind's eye Donald saw himself walk inside the CBM warehouse, much as he had done day after day, and stand upon the electric ladder, punching into the arm control the row and section designated for the storage of his jar-a jar he lost on his watch. And when the automated platform took him to his destination ... rising ... rising ... rising ... he would stare at empty space.
And as he had done day after day, he would see a disappearing horizon, as if the shelves were curved, stretching into infinity. And as he had done day after day, he would consider himself just so very small. Insignificant. And yet so wonderfully important.
***
"The truth, and I can't emphasize this enough ... is that every last one of you were this close ...," Lawrence made a pinching gesture, "... thisclose from being redistributed. You aren't our first group of engineers, and you won't be the last. You're certainly not the best."
Danielle picked up her head. She looked side to side.
"You were given particular instructions about your CBM jars. You were told how to store them, the power they contain, and in no uncertain terms, the consequence for losing them, or, their unauthorized use." Lawrence sighed. "Apparently ... I haven't been clear enough. Because another jar has gone missing."
Danielle felt her heart beat slow and heavy. Forget it, baby. Come back.
"And now the jar's galaxy-one of the newly approved models-is on the verge of total collapse. Unless we repair it in time, the Milky Way will be ruined. The Minder of the Universe is beside himself. I've never seen him so upset. His anger is astonishing."
There was a hush. Danielle's shoulders drew tight, unaware that Lawrence's ex-wife-the Milky Way's designer-would wind up sitting in a motel room on Earth, in Yuma, during the early stages of the planet's cosmic destiny, searching for the very item Donald and Danielle were terrified would ruin their lives.
"I can see ...," Lawrence said, pinching the corner of his eyes, "... that review is in order. So. Once again. What will happen if you lose your CBM jar?" No response. "Come, come, people. If you can't say it, you can't face it. And if you can't face it, well, working here will be the least of your worries. Let's try again."
Danielle felt her breaths pull quick and tight. Petrified, she mumbled over and over. "No no no no no no no no ..."
"What ... will ... happen?"
There were muffled responses. " ... ish ... byoo ... shun ..."
"Come, people." Lawrence tapped for emphasis. "Ree ... dis ... trih ..."
"... bution?" they finished.
"That's it. Redistribution. Now say it with me."
Reduced to your base elements, scattered throughout Eternity and then soaked into the cosmic fabric, reappearing somewhere, sometime-a part of everything, and yet the whole of nothing. Complete identity disintegration.
"Redistribution," they said in unison.
"Right," Lawrence said. "Redistribution. And what a thing it is."
***
Staring at the scanner, Donald knew that the guts were just a configuration of microchips and wires, and that even though he had scanned his security tag on that very screen day after day, this time he was convinced the machinery was alive. That it was watching him. That the scrolling, infrared light could read his thoughts. Maybe even his soul.
Maybe it could read his guilt. How he laid awake every night, petrified that his wife's heartbreak would plague him across time. That no matter what was to become of him, he would carry that psychic scar forever. And that maybe he deserved it.
But he knew that his panic was just a way to delay the inevitable, as if distracting himself from punishment would be the same as escaping it. He shook his head, could almost hear Brigsby's voice, warning him to avoid foolishness, encouraging him instead to unburden his soul. And accept whatever came next.
Donald held his eyes open-he was certain of it-yet all he saw was darkness. He let himself drift into the recess of his mind, drifting ... drifting ... drifting. And in his sense of drift a warmth came over him. Comfort. Soon he felt himself rock on his heels in an easy, gentle rhythm. The tension in his body faded away. He breathed easily. He was ready.
Donald scanned the security tag. The red light flashed once, again, and then again. There was the familiar sound of a bolt and a heavy motor. Clank. Whiiir. As expected, the message appeared, only it was different from ever before. His heart fluttered. His throat went dry. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture. His worst fears realized, he scanned the tag again, just to try, but the same two words materialized: Access Denied.
So that Donald could hear only one word: Redistribution.
***
"Lucky for you," Lawrence said, "The Minder of the Universe, more so than anyone, knows that Eternity is imperfect. That the Universe is imperfect. That we are imperfect."
Danielle's eyes widened.
"When last we convened, at the forefront of discussion was the damage caused by Milo, your former associate, and that he was to serve as an example of poor discretion. Yet on his way to being processed for redistribution ... there's quite a bit of paperwork ... regrettably, Milo eluded our team, and accessed the CBM warehouse. He stole five jars and disbursed them into the Universe."
Danielle grabbed the counter with both hands. Wait. What the fuck? That's not ...
"We've ... dealt with him. He has been redistributed. Milo is gone. ... But the damage he caused is considerable. ... Such a mess."
Danielle's heart thundered.
"And yet as much as it pains me to say it, Milo's ineptitude and cowardice ...," Lawrence held his thought in place just then, Danielle once again certain he was talking to and about her, "... may have been a boon in disguise. Milo did us a favor."
Huh?
"By stealing those jars ..."
Oh no.
"... by ruining our efforts ..."
No no no.
"... what Milo made clear is that our infrastructure needs work. There are gaps in the system. We need to fix them. And we will."
I'm the gap. I'm done...
"On a more personal level, he also reminded us that a few bad apples ... or even just a single disaster ..."
Here it comes.
" ... doesn't mean the entire batch is rotten.
Say what now, muthafucka?
"It would be unfair to automatically lump you together as being equally useless. Some of you, I must say, have done fine work. You should be proud." Lawrence took a sip of water. "That said ... and I suggest that you hear me on this ... I have a stack of Redistribution forms on my desk this high." He raised his hand above his shoulder. "They are complete, signed and ready for immediate processing. The only thing missing ... is your name. And I'm ready to fill those fuckers in."
Danielle shook.
"Before we conclude for today, let me leave you with one last thought: you are involved with the design, creation and maintenance of the Universe. Your responsibilities are of the highest magnitude. It is not your right to be here. You are not owed this opportunity. But seeing as you are here ... your experience with the organization is very much up to you. It can be great, it can be awful, it can fall somewhere in between. We've laid out the rules of conduct, provided training, and given you the tools to succeed. If you need assistance ... ask. If you have questions ... ask. We will help you. It is in the organization's interest to support you whenever and however possible. It is the only way for us to accomplish our goals."
Lawrence took a breath, then let it out slowly.
"But if you hide from your mistakes ... if you violate the orders passed down by The Minder of the Universe ... the consequences will be extraordinary. There will be no one to save you. And in those final moments, when you are confronted with yourself, only then will you realize the opportunities you've squandered. It will be too late."
***
Donald leaned his back against the elevator. He scratched his upper lip with his bottom teeth. "Well," he said finally. "So much for that."
And with that admission he started back down the tunnel. His first step landed firmly. Confident. But then his knees buckled. He collapsed against the wall. His breath quivered, waiting for The Minder of the Universe to come upon him with vengeance and fury. And after Donald's molecules were demolished and scattered throughout the ether, would Danny be next? Would The Big MOU transform his wife into a slug, as she feared most? And if so, with a slug's brain would she be burdened anyway with the memory of this life and all they had thrown away, cut off from each other forever, left in the mud?
Donald's chest drew tight, his heart beating faster and faster until he almost blacked out from fear and shame, knowing he had failed as a man. As a husband. That he failed to protect them from themselves. Their good fortune had literally fallen away, not because they were unlucky, but because the euphoria of sudden success blinded them from what they knew so well. That nothing of value comes free or easy. That they had to earn it, and keep on earning it.
And yet he forced himself to continue, to take another step. So that when he made his way through the tunnel again and out into the sunlight, and then nodded again to the security guard, who nodded back, Donald strode across the parking lot. He took one step, then another, then another.
The exit in sight, Donald felt a tugging on his spirit, as if a massive whoosh funneled through him. A vanishing. Only it wasn't as if he vanished, but the CBM center. Just behind him, he sensed a flash of white light. Streaks of screaming fluorescent color. Being swallowed by a tornado.
But he refused to look back. Because even though he knew that any single step could be his last in Existence, Donald had to believe he would make it home anyway. That he would be with his girl once more. And that as long as they were together, hand in hand, whatever came next for them would be all right indeed.
Chapter 73
The Demarcation Line
Auckland, New Zealand - Barnes Residence
Thursday, September 22, 2005, 1:49 p.m.
Lydia invited George back for coffee because she just couldn't bear to let him walk away. Surrounded by windows on three sides, they sat at the kitchen table, facing each other. A thin beam of sunshine split the table down the center, safe zones of a demarcation line-Lydia on one side, George on the other.
"I'm heading back to Amsterdam to meet a young woman," George said. "She's a painter, from America. I'm hoping she'll do a show in my gallery. It'll be my last one."
It unnerved Lydia, feeling so attached to him already. But with each moment she became more convinced that George knew the path to her salvation, as if he had read the book of her life many times over. She could feel in her bones that relief was within her reach. George was her last chance. "Oh, yeh?" she said. "Why's that?"
"It's a complicated world. You must keep many people satisfied, all in the hopes they'll pledge you money ... enough to stay open just a little while longer. And then you're on to the next one. And then the next. It's endless."
Lydia stared down the length of her home, through the sun-soaked kitchen and into the carpeted hallway at the back end of the house. There were two bedrooms on the left-one for each of her mysterious, determined boys who had once clutched at her long strands of hair as she rocked them to sleep-and one on the right, where she shared a bed with her husband, her high school sweetheart, who was out back, and seemed to think of her less and less as the days passed them by.
"What will you do then?" Lydia finally said. "Will you be all right?"
"Actually ... I'm hoping to open a nightclub. In Auckland. I have a very talented ... performer signed on."
"Oh, yeh?" Lydia's face was a warm raspberry. She curled her toes. She rubbed her hands beneath the table. "What does she do?"
"Angelique? Well, she sings a little, dances a little. ... She makes a spectacle."
Lydia let slip a reserved smile, but there had been a time when she would laugh so hard mucous would blow from her nose. When she used to steal the newspaper from the old man next door and draw lewd smiley faces on page eleven, just because.
There had been a time when she would sneak out into the night while her parents listened to George Gershwin on the radio. When she would meet her boyfriend, Oscar, before they became two dissolving masses that happened to get mail at the same address.
And Lydia thought just then of a postcard Theo had sent a few months back, just when she thought her eldest son might never write her again.
***
9-25-05
G'day Mum,
Pretty knackered now. Been sitting in a café in Berlin watching this old guy have a feed. He's choking down sausages like you wouldn't believe! It's funny how you get to like sitting still sometimes when you're always running around. Say hi to Dad and Roger.
Off to who knows where.
Theo
***
George sipped his coffee. "Lydia, can I ask you something?"
"Yeh, yeh. Go ahead. Please do."
"Do you need to make amends?" George took a shallow breath. He felt his heart race and slow in direct correlation with Lydia, whose glow of attention morphed into what he expected-fear and confusion. "To yourself? Do you ever feel like you owe yourself an apology?"
Lydia's look turned curious. "For what?"
"For denying the chance to live the life you want, rather than the life you have? For avoiding the tough decisions, the painful conversations? That has certainly been true for me." George leaned forward, folded his hands just shy of the demarcation line. "But the more you avoid them ... the more that inner voice tracks you down. Hunting you." George sat back. "It's a persistent little bugger, is it not?"
Lydia nodded. A tear welled up. "Yeh. I know that feeling. I feel it right now."
This time, George offered his hands across the forbidden barrier. "Then apologize to yourself. Set free whatever's inside you. You deserve it."
Lydia raised her head. The tears began to flow. Reluctantly at first, then more securely, she took his hands. Warm. Soft. And safe.
"The problem," George said, "is that we tell ourselves all these little lies ... day after day, year after year ... no matter how sick they make us feel, like we're drowning in the sea of our own shame."
Lydia was bawling now, her face red and puckered.
George whispered. "And yet it is amazing how quickly we can forgive ourselves ... once we admit the truth." He shook Lydia's hands-one, two, three-trying to joggle away her grief and jumpstart the possibility of joy. He felt an unexpected tug of altruism toward Lydia just then. To save her somehow. To reawaken her spirit. "It's like the greatest orgasm you could ever have ... only ... you get to keep your clothes on."
Lydia laughed a little, but turned serious again. "I'm afraid."
"I know. But you can do it."
"I can't. All those little lies ... the ones you said ... they're my glue. They keep me from going crazy."
"Or maybe ... they're tearing you apart."
Lydia went still. And whether she realized it or not, she let go of his hands, those little hands, much as she appeared to let go of something far more significant. "Yeh." She sniffled and then wiped her face on the duckling apron. "Maybe."
George walked behind Lydia. He squeezed her shoulders as she inhaled. He left his hands there as she breathed out. Still connected. "Good," he said. "Good. Now ..." George sat down, offered a handkerchief. He leaned forward at the table one last time. "... There's something we need to discuss. And it's very, very important."
Chapter 74
Catch Me If You Can (Reprise)
Prague, Czech Republic - Charles Bridge
Thursday, September 22, 2005, 1:50 p.m.
Lilly stayed in Prague for another week. She spent most of that time drunk on cheap wine and feeling as sorry for herself as she ever had-which was really saying something-until finally she sobered up and made her way back to the Charles Bridge.
And as she scanned the city and people around her, she saw them for the very first time. As if Jason, Theo and Emma were characters on some TV sitcom she had seen once a long time ago, but couldn't quite remember anymore.
Lilly stood against the ledge, no longer terrified that she might meet someone who would tap into her guarded heart. For the first time in a long time, she actually wanted to meet such a person. She had one particular person in mind.
Will he forgive me? Will he take me back?
Hearing giggles, Lilly turned to watch three small children jump up and down as a sketch artist, standing behind an easel, handed them caricatures.
Lilly smiled, remembering the hours she spent in the high school art room, swirling the soft bristles on her palm. How mixing her paint was like meditation, losing herself in the rhythm of the brushstrokes. How she could channel her spirit onto the canvas the way she could never do with words.
"Yeah," she said, and then cried a happy little cry. She closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face. "I think he will."
But can I forgive myself?
And Lilly thought just then about a painting she worked on years ago but never quite finished. One she knew was the beginning of her evolution as an artist, rather than just a painter. With just a few brush strokes left she threw a tarp over it. She hid the canvas in the back of the garage, behind an old ten-speed bicycle and a stack of cardboard boxes with baby clothes her mother could never seem to throw away.
Lilly hadn't thought about the painting since that day, when she buried it along with some essential part of herself that would never totally disappear, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from it.
***
In her mind's eye she could see the painting now. An old Italian villa overlooked the ocean. Mountains curved along the coastline. Lapping water stretched out into the distance. Along the villa was a slotted, stone balcony. It surrounded a section of grass that led to a garden blooming with flowers of every color. Above it all was the sun.
And in the back of the garden was a stone gazebo. It was draped in shade. And next to the gazebo was a stone bench, a compartment beneath the lid. From inside came a small hand. It belonged to someone who believed that magic only exists if kept locked up and then sprinkled like fairy dust. Someone who needed to understand that speaking her dreams aloud wouldn't make them disintegrate, but enable them to come true.
From within the compartment came a blast of white light. There were streaks of screaming fluorescent color. Orange leaves swirled into a little tornado.
***
Lilly stared at the river. Her tears flowed. "Yes," she whispered.
I forgive me. I'm ready to come out.
Lilly felt a tapping. She looked down to see one of the children, a young girl wearing a green dress and ribbon in her hair. The child handed up her caricature.
Lilly smiled back. "For me?"
The girl nodded, then scampered away, hiding behind her father's leg.
"Thank you." Lilly pressed the gift against her chest. "Thank you."
Lilly wiped her face. She ran across the Charles Bridge, back to the Internet café. As the tears stung her eyes, she realized that her life would always have uncertainty, but maybe if she worried less about what might happen and focused on what was happening now, maybe what scared her most wouldn't be so scary after all. And that if she let go of those horrible secrets, maybe something wonderful would take their place.
Before Lilly made her way to the airport, she had one last e-mail to send. One she had been putting off for a decade, but one she couldn't imagine waiting another minute to write. She sat down at the keyboard. Her fingers clacked the keys. The letter began:
Dear Daddy ...
Chapter 75
The Minder of the Universe
The Southern Sphere of Eternity - Brigsby's Loft Apartment
Time Elapsed Since Milky Way's Public Unveiling: 37 Minutes (Eternity Saving Time)
Lex crashed his convertible into the NO PARKING sign outside Brigsby's loft apartment. Following Emma's press conference, the media swarmed him with questions to which he had no answers. Brigsby was the only person who would understand the pressure.
There didn't need to be an announcement. Lex already knew what happened to Emma. Everybody knew.
"Well, well." Brigsby held the door with one hand, a blue martini with the other. "I thought you would have been here sooner. My goodness. Emma." He raised his glass. "That was quite the showstopper."
Still buzzing from his little white doofus pills, Lex paced across the near-empty apartment, shaking his head, his hands in the air. He went to the bar and poured himself a blue martini. He slurped it down. The aftertaste made his eyes water.
"She's banished, right? I didn't just hallucinate that?"
"Hu-ho. Well ... I can't say if you're hallucinating or not, but, yes, Emma has been banished. To Earth, in fact. As you obviously know, that's what the third planet was supposed to be named. Is named. Some delightful irony, don't you think? If only she'd just said the right-"
"Whu ... wait. Hold on. Wait a second. How do you know she's been banished to Earth? This just happened. How could you possibly know that?"
Brigsby sipped his drink. "Mmm." He wiped his lip. "How indeed?"
"Well," Lex began, "I guess ..."
Before he could finish his thought, Lex felt as if he had been thrown over the side of an ocean liner. As if a violent storm thrashed him about the rough waters, flipping him end over end, then sideways, then back and forth. Lex felt as if his lungs were filling with water, the pressure caving in the roof of his thoughts so that only blackness surrounded him. Only blackness. But on the verge of passing out for good, Lex felt himself making his way back to the surface. Where he could breathe again.
"Does it make sense now?" he heard a voice whisper. "Do you see?"
Once again, Lex felt his lungs tighten. His heart raced. He was panicking now, the end of his life seeming more like the beginning of his death, as if some force wasn't just choking out his last breaths, but choking him out of Existence as he knew it.
Lost beneath the watery recesses of his subconscious, Lex was overcome with a sense of emptying. It was as if his mind ... no, it was more than his ability to think rationally ... as if his soul had finally relaxed, exhaling after a lifetime of holding its spiritual breath. His body went limp. Whether induced by chemicals, karma or both, Lex accepted his fate. The storm was gone. There was just Lex. And Brigsby.
"You mean, you're The Big MOU? You're The Minder of the Universe?"
"Well ... you could say that. You'd be wrong, but you could say it. Although it actually does have a nice ring to it."
"I, uh ..." Lex shook his head. "This is freaking me out."
"Relax, Lex. Relax. Here, have another drink."
Lex took the glass from Brigsby. He sipped at first, then swallowed it all. He wiped the blue dribble from his chin. "I don't understa-." The room started to spin just then, slowly at first, and then faster faster faster until all Lex saw was black, his mind spiraling like that great cluster in space. He vomited an inky pool of blue and yellow.
"Okay," Brigsby said. "No more for you. I'll take that."
Lex fell onto the couch, staring straight ahead, uncertain he was even breathing. There was puke on his cheek. And before Brigsby could offer a handkerchief, Lex threw up again, cried a bit, and then threw up once more before finally passing out.
***
Lex awoke, smelling like his own vomit. "Maybe it does make sense," he said in a sort of waking trance. "People watch you every day."
Brigsby sat on the coffee table, facing Lex. "But do they listen?"
"They're always talking about you."
"I know." Brigsby wiped Lex's face with a handkerchief. "There. Got it. But what do they say? 'Brigsby said this, or Brigsby said that.' And so what? What does it matter?"
Lex held his hands in his lap. His voice was shallow. "I don't know."
"I keep hoping they'll just boo me off the stage. That they'll just switch me off. But the thing is ... the more ridiculous I become, the more they tune in. I can't figure it."
Lex was returning to a more active state of consciousness. He forced himself to blink. "Why don't you just cancel yourself? You know? Retire?"
"That would be the easy way out, wouldn't it? I could disappear from public life, but then what? I would be replaced faster than anyone could forget me. The answer isn't to give up, Lex. It's to keep looking."
"For what?"
"A-ha! Yes! That's a great question. But the truth is, my frazzled friend ... I don't know what you're supposed to be looking for. That isn't for me to decide."
"But you're The Big MOU. The Minder of the Universe. You're the-"
"I'm not the one, Lex. I'm not."
Lex sat up, got a whiff of his yak. The scent was like a paramedic's ammonia stick. "You just said you're The Big MOU."
"I didn't, actually ... but if I am?"
Lex sighed, shook his head. "I don't understand."
"If I'm this creator, this ... Minder of the Universe ... or whatever you're calling me ... then what? What is it you think I should do?"
Lex felt his heart speed up. Tears came to his eyes.
That's not fair. Why are you doing this to me?
"I don't know," he said. "I just figured that ... you know ... you keep us all together. You hold Eternity in one piece. You protect us."
Brigsby chuckled. "Oh, Lex. Me? Hold it together? That's delightful."
Lex wiped a tear. "Don't laugh at me. That's fucking bullshit."
"I'm not laughing at you, Lex. I'm sorry. It's just that ... I'm always amazed at how much faith people put into what they think I might be."
"Then what are you?"
"What if I'm not The Big MOU? What if I'm not The Minder of the Universe, but just one of many? You know, like middle management, overseeing my own little slice of Eternity? The whole thing is way too big for me to handle on my own."
"I don't-"
"Think a minute. What if I answer to someone, or something, who answers to someone, or something, and on and on? And what if we're actually assigned in threes, but live among the masses, to know them? I'm just saying. What if?"
"I'm not sure I-"
"Are you sure there's just one force that keeps Eternity together? Are you sure there's just one hand on the master switch?"
Lex felt his hands clench. His breath grew short and tight. He was petulant now, his heart lumbering like the steps of a drugged giant.
B-BOOM! ... B-BOOM! ... B-BOOM! ...
He shook his head. "No, I'm not sure."
"Do you need there to be just one? One being, one force, one ... Minder of the Universe? Do you feel safer believing in one, great, benevolent master? That everything will be all right if you just have faith?"
Lex stared at this frumpy daytime television host who, apparently, doubles as the creator of Existence. "Yes." Lex exhaled long and slow. He closed his eyes, breathed in. Breathed out. And again. Tears streamed down his face. "I'm scared. I need to believe."
"Then that's what you should do. Sometimes it's better to believe in something than to be right about it. Being right is hardly ever enough. And it hardly ever happens. Trust me on that. Don't worry about being right, Lex. Just focus on being you."
***
Lex woke suddenly from a dream and then scurried to the motel door, in Yuma. He let out a low whine and started barking ... woomph ... woomph ... woomph ... as a drunken couple stumbled into the next room and had sloppy, noisy sex.
Eyes wide and tail wagging, Lex downgraded his sense of urgency, accepting that his temporary home was, for the moment, cleared of danger.
But what still troubled him was the increased frequency and clarity with which he was hearing sounds he had never picked up on before: the snap of a twig; the tiny thud of a bluebird that falls from its nest; the motel attendant farting into his swivel chair.
And it wasn't that Lex minded-he was fascinated by his auditory powers-but he was beginning to worry that he might soon forget he had ever walked on two feet. That ultimately he would become Lex the dog, and not Lex, this new identity permanently replacing the other.
He curled back into a ball, and then lifted his snout. He breathed in the bitter, salty sweat puddled on Emma's back as she slept on the bed. And as he finally closed his eyes, he fell back into dream, one of the last memories he had of his old life, one he was beginning to think may have never actually happened, seeming stranger and less coherent by the Earthly day.
***
"So," Brigsby said. "We just have one more thing to resolve."
Although rattled that Brigsby was The Minder of the Universe, or a Minder of the Universe, or whatever was overlooking Existence, Lex felt surprisingly alert. "Emma."
"Right. Emma. That naming stunt was so very her. I told her not to."
"Wait. You told her ...? When did you tell her? I didn't even know you knew her. Although, I guess you kinda know everything."
"Not everything." Brigsby chuckled. "I know some things ... a few things. And, yes. I do know her personally. I didn't mention that?"
"Must have slipped your mind."
"That's my bad. She used to be married to Lawrence, the warehouse manager at the CBM plant. He's a friend. Emma and Lawrence divorced about a year ago. They still get along. Sort of. We had dinner last week. Your friend George set it up. My, how he seems to know but everyone. He's quite resourceful."
"I knew she'd been married. I only knew his name."
"Yes, well, you never really know what someone is thinking or feeling, do you, Lex? You have to want to get close, and they have to let you. And just between you and me ..." Brigsby whispered. "... Emma's a bit of a scaredy cat when it comes to love. She tends to, you know ... overcompensate."
Lex felt like the very doofus Emma said his pills amplified.
No. What's dumber than doofus? A loser? A fool? A foolfus. Yep. A fucking foolfus. I'm always getting suckered. I guess I always will.
"Does she know that you and I've met?"
"No, no. It's our little secret. Sometimes it's better to keep mutual acquaintances apart ... something George is starting to forget."
"How so?"
"Well ... it seems that George is quite fond of you, if you hadn't noticed. And to get into your good graces, he was prepared to tell you ... about me. The great introducer."
"You mean that you're the ...?"
"Right. That I'm the ..."
Lex was flattered-and overwhelmed. "So he knew all this time?"
"Yes, he knew. More people know than you'd think."
"Where's George now?"
Brigsby smirked. "I think you know."
"You mean ... like Emma?"
"Mmm ... you could say that. Although ... I've given him a chance to come back. I do that on occasion. We'll have to see how resourceful he really is. He'll have to find something important. And he'll have to decide just how badly he wants what it will bring him."
Lex sighed, dizzy with revelation overload. "Now what?"
"Well, my good man, we have to decide what to do with you."
Like being dunked in ice water, Lex was now alert and focused. "Stay here, sounding like a crackpot if I tell anyone what I know, or go with Emma, keeping what I know to myself, even though she would almost definitely believe me if I told her."
"Right again. Well done. It's your choice. But you do have to choose."
Lex felt some courage, and even more surprising to him, he voiced it. "Why do I have to choose? I thought you decide? I didn't make this happen. It's not my fault."
"Fault implies blame, Lex. And blame implies punishment. You haven't done anything to be punished for. But you do need to accept responsibility for yourself. You have to decide who you want to be. I can't do that for you. You may not want to believe this, but I don't have that kind of power. And even if I did, I wouldn't choose for you anyway. What would be the point? All those lives everywhere ... they'd be useless."
"And if I go down there, to Earth ... there's no coming back?"
"Well," Brigsby said. "There's always a miracle."
"I thought you didn't believe in miracles."
Brigsby sipped his drink. "A miracle is something positive and unexpected, Lex. The degree isn't the issue. Whether you choose to notice them is up to you."
Lex sat quietly. And before he sank into his comfortable zone of self-pity, trying to figure out why he needed to be scraped off the floor once again, he laughed to himself. Fucking foolfus. Fuckin' A.
Lex poured himself a drink. He let it settle in his mouth. It was the last time he would be able to appreciate such nuance in quite the same way. "I'll go with Emma."
Brigsby's eyes went wide. "Huh. I figured staying was a no-brainer. See, Lex. I don't know everything." He shook his head, and then hesitated. "... Can I ask why you're going? I'm ... not sure I get it."
The question that haunted Lex his entire life came into focus just then: Am I a leader or a follower? He wanted to be one kind of person, but couldn't escape that he was another. I'm a follower. And I'm okay with it. Besides, if Emma knew about this, she'd burst a blood vessel. My punishment and my reward, all rolled into one.
"Actually ... I'd rather not say."
Even though he figured Brigsby could read his mind, keeping a secret from The Minder of the Universe was as much control as Lex thought he would ever have over anything.
My reasons are my own. Even if they're wrong. At least they're mine.
***
Hearing Emma snort and roll over, Lex's long, pointy ears shot up, reminding him once again of where he was, and why. And while he couldn't see the wrinkled face, a single name lingered in his mind: Brigsby.
"Had to make me a dog. Ha-ha-ha. He-he-he. What a fucker."
From outside the motel room came the faint scent of chicken-fried steak, French fries and enough gravy to drown a busload of children. Lex contemplated maneuvers to snatch a helping. But before he could remember what he had been dreaming about, he licked his chops, put his paws over his eyes, and fell back to sleep.