«Don't forget to check out the pictures on the walls in the bedroom! There's a good one of Danny and Mae and your Mommy's parents – your grandparents.»
«Why don't you leave him alone? What are you going to do now?»
«_Me_? I'm not going to do anything, Cullen. It's all up to your son.» He gestured with his head toward the other room.
«What does that mean?»
«Don't worry about it. How did you like what I did with the kids' dreams back there? Great, eh? How about the quick change to their all being Pepsi? You've got to admit it was pretty effective – scared the living daylight out of you, huh? lust like the last time you were here, remember?»
He raised both hands, the old gesture of surrender, and suddenly my parents were on the floor between us. Have you ever seen a bad car accident where people have died? Or those inconceivable photographs of airplane crashes, mass murders, what lay at the bottom of trenches in concentration camps? Well, that is what my parents looked like, lying there on the floor in front of me: Jack Chili's latest gift. But it was clear they were very much alive and feeling every horror their bodies had been subjected to.
They made sounds . . . they moved a little.
This is what I had seen on the side of the hill leading up to the Cafй Deutschland, when I was a girl and first in Rondua. This is why I had used the fourth Bone of the Moon to save myself and my parents, or so I thought.
I closed my eyes. «None of it's real.»
«No, you're wrong. It's real!»
Behind me, Pepsi entered the room and shouted something short and incomprehensible.
There was a hard _snap_ and then total silence. When I looked, the bodies were gone. Pepsi came up and put his hands on my shoulders. I bent my head so that I could touch a cheek to one of them.
«Thank you.»
«You little asshole! All right, all right, let's begin. Obviously you have the Bones, Pepsi, or else you couldn't have done that. Let me see them. I have to anyway.»
Pepsi sat down on the other end of the couch – Danny's seat – and slung his knapsack round into his lap. Reaching into it, he brought them out one at a time, slowly placing each one on the pillow beside him. When he was done, there were five. Five? I couldn't believe it. A fifth? Where had it come from? Where had he got the last Bone of the Moon? I looked from the five to Pepsi, to Jack Chili.
«Surprised, Mommy Cullen? You've been _had_, dearie. Your little boy's been pulling your chain.»
«I couldn't tell you, Mom – don't listen to him – I wasn't allowed to. I got it when we went to the Hot Shoes the other day. Remember when I climbed up into the pants?»
I could only nod, then I almost laughed. What bit of difference did it make? Nothing surprised me anymore. Not the fifth Bone of the Moon, not my parents' bodies writhing on the floor, not Jack Chili comfortable on the couch in my living room.
I got up and sat down again in Eliot's favorite chair; the one I'd bought at the Salvation Army and had recovered in paisley. Just out of curiosity, I looked at the arm to see if the stain he'd made with the chocolate sundae was still there. It was. Somehow that pleased me and I covered it with my hand as if it belonged only to me.
«Do you know what happens next, Pepsi?»
«No.»
Chili sighed. «I didn't think so. All right, I'll give you a Ronduan history lesson. Listen very carefully. No one knows these things but me, because I found the other five Bones.»
«You? _What_ other five Bones?»
«Shut up and you'll hear. Whoever created Rondua was fair. At all times, there are ten Bones of the Moon in existence. The five you found are called, collectively, The Bones of Smoke. The ones I found are called The Bones of Mark. Don't ask what the phrases mean, because I don't know. I do think they have something to do with the gods, or God, or whoever is in charge here. But that's only my opinion. Anyway, both sets of Bones are here and always have been. What happens in Rondua depends entirely on which set has been found.»
«Wait –«
«Stop interrupting me, Cullen. You won't have any questions when I'm finished, I can assure you. Both sets of Bones exist, but they must all be found by someone if they wish to gain power. A long time ago I found The Bones of Mark, so I've ruled Rondua since that time. You're familiar with my way of doing things, but I don't want to discuss policy with you because it would do no good. I rule the way I choose to rule.
«If you hadn't found The Bones of Smoke, Pepsi, I would have continued in power for another three Milans. Do you know how long a Milan is?»
Calm but attentive, Pepsi nodded.
«Good. Once someone finds the five Bones, either set, they rule for five Milans. Then they must take the test I'll describe to you in a little while.
«However, what you've done has thrown things off a bit. In the past, it has frequently happened that two have found the different sets of Bones at the same time, or almost the same time. Keegan Merle and Nile Shadows were the last ones to coincide. The law says that when that _does_ happen, the test must be taken immediately by both, and only one will survive. That time, Merle won and ruled for his five Milans. Incidentally, Merle was Mr. Tracy's father, in case you didn't know.
«After he was gone, there was a short period of no rule before I came along. I must tell you that I found the five Bones of Mark more quickly than anyone ever had in Rondua before.»
Looking pleased with himself, Chili reached over and picked up the fourth Bone of the Moon from the couch – the one that DeFazio had so indifferently given us when we went to his island; the one that looked like a baseball; the one I had used to save myself in another lifetime.
«What DeFazio said to you wasn't far from the truth, you know. Even _as_ ruler of this place, you can create policy and institute some big changes, but unfortunately old ways and believers take a long time to die. No matter how clever or imaginative you are, you'll always be up against certain elements which stupidly refuse to go your way. For me, it's been idiots like Tracy and Stastny Panenka, not to mention Sizzling Thumb who's as old as a rock and just as obtuse.
«The ways I've tried to persuade them! I've gone to them as Jack Chili, as Alvin Williams, as Fire Sandwich . . . you can't believe how I've tried to convince them to come over to my side!
«That's not to say, friend Pepsi, that even if you succeed today, you won't have exactly the same problems facing you tomorrow'. Only your problem will be _my_ followers who, I have to admit, are a dedicated lot.
«You'll have power. But short of killing everyone who disagrees with you – which you co uU do – you'll have to cajole and convince . . . All very boring, but part of the job.»
I found myself relaxing as Chili talked on, as if we were sitting with an old head of state who was reminiscing about his good old days in office. Except that this head of state was still in power and from the tone of his voice, expected to stay there.
«You find the Bones, become ruler and then, if no one else finds the other ones during your term, you are allowed to rule the way you want for five Milans. That's the history of Rondua in a few long sentences. As told by Jack Chili, Alvin Williams, Martio, Fire Sandwich, etcetera.»
«What happens at the end of those five Milans?»
«You take the test and die.»
There was silence for a long time – a silence which Chili used to watch both of us with an unreadable expression on his (on their?) face.
«Why is it called a test, then? Most tests you can either pass or fail.»
«Don't be obnoxious, Cullen. This isn't school; you don't go to history class next.» He had lapsed into Eliot's mimicking voice. «I'm permitting you to stay here, so _don't_ rub me the wrong way. It's called a test because that's what they call it, all right?»
My son was at stake and I had to say more. «All right, but even if you succeed, you only live for five Milans? How long is that?»
«That's none of your business. You had your chance once, but Rondua is only a dream for you now. For us, it's li
fe. Pepsi, you found the five Bones of Smoke, so now you have to take the test. And I must too.
«What you must also realize is that however 'good' or 'bad' you think you are, there's absolutely no telling who will win. There is no sense to the way things are decided. I'm as frightened by this moment as you are.»
Bending forward, he opened both hands and two gigantic pistols appeared. They looked as big as shoeboxes, beautifully black and oiled and sleek.
«Take one.»
Without hesitation, Pepsi chose one. It was too big for his small hand, so he had to hold it up with two.
«Wait!»
Chili's eyes flared and I sat back hard in my chair.
«We put them in our mouths like this.» He opened his mouth wide and slid the barrel in until the trigger loop rested on his bottom lip. Then he took it out again so that he could speak. «You have every reason not to trust me, and I understand that, so I will go first. I'll pull the trigger and you will hear the explosion. But nothing will happen, no _decision_ will be made until both of us have done it. That is the system and if I win, I continue to rule.»
My heart floated cold and dead in my chest. «Pepsi. Pepsi, do you have to do this?»
«Yes, Mom. I have to. Mr. Tracy said there would be something like this at the end; it's the only way things can work out.»
I turned to Chili. «Can I have a minute? Can you give me some time? Some time alone with him?»
«Of course, Mrs. James. Just don't have a fistfight with him, like the clouds did.» The voice was perfect Alvin Williams. Getting up, Chili looked at my son and I knew they understood each other completely in a way I could never understand or be a part of. Chili walked out of the room; in the kitchen, I heard him at the sink drawing a glass of water.
I looked at my son as if I was drowning and in the instant before death, saw our life together flash through my mind. There was nothing I could say. But what did I _want_ to say? Were there real words for love? Words heard that would mean something now, now when all was said and done and almost over?
Pepsi got off the couch, came to me and got down on his knees next to me. He put his head in my lap, his arms around my legs. I touched his hair as gently as I could and began to stroke it. It was so soft and thick – a little boy's hair – tangled and dreamily soft.
Death doesn't make you sad – it makes you empty. That's what's so bad about it. All of your charms and beliefs and funny habits fall fast through a big black hole, and suddenly you know thev're gone because just as suddenly, there's nothing at all left inside.
Funny guys in funny ties,
Wearing helmets, telling lies.
Walk right here, your place is free.
I love you and you love me.
The Song of the Wooden Mice. It was the only thing that came out of my new emptiness, but it was all right and I had enough voice to sing it quietly to my good son Pepsi.
Pressing his head deeper into my lap, he held my legs tightly, so goddamned tightly.
Wooden mice know what's nice;
Sawdust cheese and maple spice.
He was crying and I was his mother and that was all. The only time left to us was this moment.
«You are the best, Pepsi. Everything you've done has made me proud. I'll love you all my life. And if there's anything afterward, I'll love you after I die too. Do you understand me?»
«Yes, Mom.»
Chili had come up behind us without making a sound. Now he belched loudly.
«Let's go.»
Pepsi started to get up, but he stumbled on my foot and fell against me.
«Get up! Stop messing around! Take the gun and let's go.» Chili's voice was much higher; it was someone else's voice, someone I didn't know. He was scared too.
They sat on either side of the couch and Chili put the pistol inside his mouth and waited. Pepsi tried to do the same thing, but the gun was way too big and he gagged trying to put it as far down his throat.
«Just put it _in_ your mouth, Stupid! Don't waste my time!»
Pepsi closed his mouth and swallowed. Opening it again, he did what Chili ordered.
«As I said, I'll go first.»
There wasn't even time to look. The blast from Chili's gun filled the room completely.
I whipped my head his way as the second explosion came. I screamed, «Pepsi!» just as my eyes found Jack Chili. . . .
Who looked exactly the same as he had an instant before.
8
I was awake. I was home and I was awake. I was in my house and this was my real world. I knew too, instinctively, instantly, that I would never go back to Rondua, no matter what happened to my son. _That_ was why Chili had allowred me to remain while he explained the test: he knew I would go away forever.
I threw the covers off me and fled the room, the bed, everything. The apartment was pitch-black, street light my only guide. I ran for the living room to see what was there, if Pepsi or Chili were there. But nothing was there. Then something. . . .
«Oh!»
Eliot, who'd been spending nights on the couch since Danny had gone, shot up and looked wildly at me. «What is it? What's wrong, Cullen?»
«Where's the baby? Where's Mae?»
«God, Cullen, what happened? What's wrong?»
«Where is the _baby_?»
«In bed, in her crib. Take it easy! What's the matter with you? What's wrong?»
I moved the last few steps to the crib and looked down for my other child, praying _she_ would be there and all right. She was! Awake and looking very angrily at me.
Scooping her up, I held her to my hot chest. She began to cry, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but her being there, well and safe in my arms.
Holding her to me, I looked around the room. The couch held only scattered sheets and a blanket, a pillow crushed up against one of the armrests.
«Cullen, will you please tell me what the hell is going on?»
«I had a Rondua dream. I think Pepsi's dead there. I don't want to talk. Let me walk around and then I'll tell you.»
Eliot sat on the couch and watched me pace the room. He wore bright red flannel pajamas and his hair stood up all over his head. I thought of when I had touched Pepsi's hair; it had only been a moment ago. I kept walking the room.
Some time later I looked at Mae and saw she'd gone back to sleep in my arms. I went to the crib and laid her carefully back there, covering her with the blanket Pepsi had so recently fingered. I watched Mae to make sure she existed, even in sleep.
I went to Eliot's chair on purpose and sat down. The chocolate stain was still there on the arm. All of my energy was gone.
«Do you want some coffee? Let me go make you some Decaf, Cullen.» Eliot was already halfway to the kitchen when he said it.
I listened to him rummaging around in there and thought of Jack Chili drinking water from the tap. Was his glass still in the sink?
«You don't have any Decaf left, Cullen. You want me to go and get some?»
«No, I'm all right.»
«Don't be silly. Wait here and I'll get some down at my place. I've got the blend you like, that I buy at 'The Daily Grind'. It'll only take me two secs to do it.»
At the door he turned and asked loudly if there was anything else I wanted. I didn't want anything; I wanted to know about my son. I heard Eliot unclicking the different locks on the door, heard him say he'd be back in two shakes.
The door hit the wall with a tremendous _Bang_! Looking up, I heard Eliot say, «Hey!» and then throw his hands up against something which was going on outside in the hall.
Then there was another sound – the loudest, hardest _thud_ I had ever heard.
Eliot made another noise, then fell straight backward into the hallway. It was all too fast for me to register what was happening. I watched Eliot fall; saw the rainbow of blood from his head rise and follow him down, all the way down to the floor.
Someone knelt over him and smashed his head. One, two, three more times. Each sound was softer
and wetter.
Then Alvin Williams got up and, quick as an animal, was in my apartment dragging Eliot in after him.
I finally understood what was happening. As I moved to my left, for Mae, Williams saw me and shouted at me to stay still. He closed the door behind him with his foot and I saw he was wearing brand-new white sneakers.
He had what looked like a crowbar in his right hand. There was blood and other colored things all up and down it.
«Don't move! Don't do anything!»
He bent over Eliot and smashed the crowbar into the unmoving body again. Straightening up, he slid one glistening hand down the shaft of the bar and wiped what came off on his pants.
«_Nanika nomimasho_. That's Japanese! It means, 'Do you want to have a drink?' I know Japanese now. I studied!»
As he started into the room, I threw a hand out against him, as I had with Weber Gregston and the gypsy. My arc of purple light flew across the room, touched, landed low on the crowbar and sent a green-gold bolt up and down it.
Williams watched as it lit up his hand. He laughed happily. «Great!»
But the light did nothing else. There was only that light – no more power behind it. I put out my other hand the same way. Again nothing. Williams moved deeper into the room. The crowbar still glowed.
«You didn't _write_ me. You don't _like_ me!»
I got up, lost my balance, fell back again. He watched.
«What do you want, Alvin?»
«What do I want? I want a letter! You've got to write me a letter!»
Furious now, he swung the crowbar out wildly to the side and hit a standing lamp. It flew over and went out as soon as it hit the floor. The room lost half of its light and the baby started screaming.
«A letter? Okay, let's do a letter. I'll write you a letter: 'Dear Alvin – '»
«Not _that_ kind! A letter with stamps on it! From Japan. Arigato! Send it to the shogun.»
«Okay, Alvin, let me get some paper. I've got some in the bedroom. Let's go in there.»
«Goddamn it, I want that letter. Why don't you have paper in _here_?» Five feet away, he stepped toward the crib. I paralleled his movement.
Bones of The Moon Page 20
