by Josh Vogt
“So what’s it like being a portable puddle?”
The elemental burped at her.
Sighing, she leaned a hip against the dresser. “Okay. Confession time. I’m not sure I can do this.”
Carl’s dome tilted, like someone cocking their head.
“I mean this.” She waved at her janitorial uniform. “Being a Cleaner. It was an exciting idea, at first, but how am I supposed to protect others when I can’t even control myself? I’d like to avoid summoning a tornado every time I go to flush a toilet.”
She bumped an elbow at her lizard. “I feel like him. Like Tetris. Suddenly realizing I’ve been living in a glass box all my life, thinking I could see everything there was to see. Then I get picked up by my tail and plopped into a way bigger world than I ever imagined.” She lifted the lizard from the aquarium and set him on the carpet near Carl. “I bet even he has the brains to dart back in to where it’s all comfy and safe.”
She let Tetris go, and the lizard scurried for the elemental, stubby tongue aimed to lap up the water. Carl spouted and rolled away, Tetris in hot pursuit. Dani snatched her pet back up before he got too far.
“You brat,” she said. “Stop ruining my example.”
He continued moving his legs, raring to explore every corner of the room. Dani laughed and tickled the softer scales under his neck.
“All right. I get the point. If you can do it, so can I.” She glanced at Carl, who had shifted closer, though keeping a bit more distance this time. “What do you think? Want to be a cheerleader for Team Dani?”
A tiny wave slapped her boot. She hoped this was intended as an encouraging pat, versus a reprimanding slap for getting her hopes up.
She returned Tetris to chasing down dinner and then kissed the side of the terrarium, leaving lip prints. Keeping her lips pursed, she hastily opened the tiny bottle of mouthwash and took a swig. The sacrifices she made to show a little affection.…
As she swished, Carl washed up the side of the dresser like a reverse waterfall. It rolled over to Tetris’ cage, and then pressed against the spot she’d kissed. Water slid around the sides, thinning until it covered every panel. Then Carl retracted into a glob, leaving the cage sparkling, not a smudge to be seen.
Eyes widening, Dani ran over to the sink and spat out the mouthwash. She returned to stare at the pristine terrarium, and then at the elemental that brimmed with obvious pride.
“You can clean surfaces, too?”
An agreeable gurgle.
Dani laid a hand on top of the dresser. After a moment, Carl rolled onto her palm and she raised him to eye-level.
“Tell you what. You help me clean this place up enough that I can sleep, and I’ll give this job another day. Deal?”
Carl wobbled, which Dani decided to take as a nod.
“Fantastic.”
She turned and flung the elemental across the room, where it splattered across the bathroom mirror.
O O O
Dani woke as a sliver of sunlight pried between the curtains and cut through her eyelids. She was sitting in a chair. Had she fallen asleep studying again? Oh ***, I hope I didn’t drool on myself.
Groaning, she leaned away from the glare and fumbled for the alarm clock to see how much time she had before class. Her hand slapped a lamp, which thumped to the floor. The noise sent her bolting upright, twisting to orient herself in the otherwise dark room.
Where? What?
Oh. Right.
She hadn’t actually made it to bed last night, but Carl had wiped down a chair enough for her to settle in. Her lower back and shoulders were strained from sleeping in the awkward position, but at least she’d managed a few hours of shut-eye.
She set the lamp back on the nightstand and turned it on, illuminating what once had been a dingy motel room. Now the walls gleamed and every tile and wooden surface looked freshly waxed. Carl puddled beside Tetris’ cage, a silent, watchful presence.
Despite having slept in her uniform, she didn’t feel grungy at all. Still, needs had to be met. She peeled her gloves off and dug through the grab bag of cleaning goodies for the wipes, gel, and soap that would suffice for her morning sanitization routine. As she worked gel into her scalp, a knock made her jump.
“Dani?” Ben’s voice came through muffled. “Up and at ’em. We got a full day.”
She hesitated, wanting a few more minutes of privacy, but another knock denied that luxury. Scowling, she scooped Carl up, stomped to the door and yanked it open. She flung the elemental into the janitor’s face, where it struck with the sound of a giant pancake hitting pavement.
“That’s for setting him to spy on me!”
Grimacing through the dribbles, Ben held up a paper bag. “I got breakfast. Can I at least come in and use the bathroom?”
“I figured you used a bucket in the van.” Dani studied him in the harsh morning light. The circles under his eyes were black and blue while the lines on his face looked etched down to the bone. “You look awful.”
“Good mornin’ to you too.” He handed her the bag, which she tossed onto the dresser. “Got a sesame and a plain. Figured you might be some kinda health nut, so the cream cheese is that disgustin’ no-fat kind.”
He pushed by and ducked into the restroom. She thanked the gods of bathroom design that the fan turned on and hid most noises within.
Once he emerged, Carl perched on the janitor’s shoulder, leaving his face dry. Ben held up his spray bottle with the top off and the living puddle glided down inside. He screwed the spray top back on and reattached it at his hip.
Dani tugged her gloves on and pointed at the elemental. “Why’d you try to slip him in here?”
“Ain’t anyone near as good at guardin’ the pipelines as Carl.”
“Pipelines?”
Ben tossed her the plain bagel along with a plastic container of cream cheese. She considered wiping the bread down with gel. Did being a Cleaner make sanitation chemicals edible as well? That might require some experimenting. For now, she just held the bagel and ignored her rumbling stomach.
“Some Scum,” Ben said, spraying seeds as he devoured the sesame, “use sewage lines to truck around. Kinda like a subway system for ’em.”
“Like you … we … use windows?”
“Sorta. It’s one reason we work our tushes off keepin’ sinks, toilets, and other outlets clean. Discourages any unwanted visitors.”
“Like the blot-hound?”
He nodded, licking his fingers clean. “Plenty of critters live in pipe networks. Lots of ’em come from what the bigwigs at HQ call flouritic realms.”
“I think you mean fluidic.”
“Whatever. They figure they’re more comfortable in contained systems. Easier for ’em to mingle and reproduce. Carl’s more tuned into that sorta thing.”
She huffed. “At least ask next time. I’ve got enough to deal with without having to worry about getting a drink in the middle of the night and slurping down your partner.”
“But if I ask, you might say no. Besides, wouldn’t be the first time Carl took that ride.” He went to the door and opened it, waving for her to join him. “Let’s go. Stewart ain’t a patient fella. You can eat on the way.”
She followed, picking up Tetris’ cage as she did. “Stewart is this friend of yours?” She stressed a doubtful tone on friend. “What’s he do?”
Ben grinned as he headed for the van. “You might call him a collector.”
***
Chapter Twelve
“Admit it,” Dani said. “You’re just ******* with me, aren’t you? Trying to see how far I’ll go before I snap.”
Ben got back into the driver’s seat after pushing open the metal gate the van idled in front of. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Aw, c’mon, princess. You gotta expand your horizons. Embrace new experiences.”
“You know the nice thing about horizons? They’re far away. And I’m not about to embrace anything here.”
As he drove through the gate, she scanned
the area with rising trepidation. Garbage mounds formed a miniature mountain range inside the privately owned and operated dump. A few compactor trucks sat in a line against the nearest part of the chain-link fence that bordered the property, and a gravel road cut through the heaps before branching off into various routes. A wisp of black smoke rose to the north. Magpies lived up to their reputation as rats with wings as they swarmed the ground and sky, scouring for anything edible.
Tetanus. Shigella.
Ben eased the van between stacks of tires and rusting barrels. Dani sat up straighter as they entered a bumpy stretch devoted to trash sculptures. Half a dozen humanoid figures, composed of steel beams, car engines and random debris lined the road. Each stood ten feet high, and their heads, made up of anything from welded chairs to old bathtubs, gazed down at the van as it passed.
Ben grunted as he looked up at them through the windshield. “Hoo boy. Stewart’s moved up in the world. These suckers weren’t here last time.”
“You mean the statues? He collects trash art? Classy.”
“Those ain’t art. They’re golems. Stewart upgraded his security.”
A rumble shook the area as two of the statues animated and fell into a teeth-chattering walk behind them, keeping pace as the van lumbered deeper into the dump.
Dani gripped her armrest and watched their sudden escort in the rear-view mirror. “Trash golems?” Her voice squeaked.
“Better’n Rottweilers in keepin’ folks away, don’tcha think?”
“But. They’re. Following. Us. Why?”
“In case we cause trouble or make a mess.”
The road ended in a circular pit, fifty feet across. Ben braked and turned off the van, then hopped out on his side. Dani scrunched her nose as the first real whiff of the dump smacked her in the face—burning rubber, rotten eggs, mold and … bacon? She did not want to know where that came from.
The golems creaked to a halt, blocking the way out, and Dani couldn’t help but imagine their jagged fists pounding the van—and the two of them—into scrap. She wished she knew what would provoke them.
“A mess?” she echoed as Ben slid the side door open and rummaged in the back for his mop. “This place couldn’t be more disgusting. I’ll wait in the van while you talk to this guy.”
“First you can barely stand the ride, now you wanna camp out in there? Nothin doin’. C’mon.” He rapped on the side of the van. “No whining.”
She double-checked the back, where Tetris’ cage had been secured on one of the shelves. Reassuring herself that he’d be fine—and praying she would be—she eased out.
Something crunched under a boot. She danced away to find an enormous cockroach mashed into the gravel, feelers and legs twitching. She bit her tongue to contain a dismayed squeal.
Typhoid. Rabies. Dysentery.
As she edged around the dying insect, she noticed the shack set against a mound on the side of the clearing. Though “shack” was an exaggeration; more of an outhouse, with a sheet of rusted steel as a roof and rotting plywood walls. A hole had been cut through the front door, with a rubber tire rimming it. No door handle, so one would have to stick a finger into a knothole to yank it open, risking splinters or bites from anything waiting inside.
She’d let Ben handle that.
Ben went to the middle of the clearing and faced the door, mop in hand. Grateful for the heavy rubber boots and jumpsuit, Dani minced her way over as rubbish cracked, crunched, and squished beneath her feet. After a minute, Ben made an impatient noise and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Stewart,” he shouted, “get out here, or I’m gonna call the Sanitation Department and let ’em know I caught you huffin’ diapers!”
Dani gagged and clutched her stomach. Then she jumped back as a rat scurried up to them. A second later, she realized it wasn’t a real rodent, but one glued together from a toy car chassis, with red LED lights for eyes and a rubber tube for a tail. It squeaked—not an animal noise, but that of rusty hinges opening—as its lower jaw dropped, revealing a metal grille.
“Whaddya want?” The harsh voice made her wince.
“A red carpet and gold-engraved invitation,” Ben said, scowling down at the fake rodent. “Do you gotta be so paranoid?”
“Since we’s agreed you’d never turn up here again after what you did last time, yes. I’s a mite suspectin’. Besides, you gots company.”
Ben tilted his head her way. “This is Dani. She’s my apprentice.”
“I don’t be carin’ if she’s the Pope’s daughter. She don’t be welcome.”
Ben leaned over to look the rat in one shiny red eye. “You’re bein’ a grouch, Stewart. I even brought that Babe Ruth you’ve been lookin’ for, but now I think I might just keep it for myself.”
“Boston Store number 147? 1916? You found it?”
“Sure for shootin’. But I’m only givin’ it to you face-to-face. And you’re gonna say thanks, all polite-like.”
The rat’s rubber tail twitched, though Dani couldn’t see any mechanism to make it do so.
“Gimme a sec.”
The mechanical rat scampered away while thumping and rattling came from the mound ahead of them, like numerous gates and doors being opened and then shut again.
“I thought you said this guy was a friend,” she said.
He sighed and stuck hands in his pockets. “It’s been a while.”
“What’d you do last time?”
A wince. “Tell you later.”
The outhouse door opened with a crunch and crack, revealing a tunnel deeper into the mound. Stewart shuffled out and shut the door before making his way over to them.
Hunched and withered, he wore a sports coat made of yellowed newspapers. A candy bar wrapper had been pinched into the shape of a bow tie by a rubber band and pinned beneath his prominent Adam’s apple. The green, plastic St. Paddy’s day bowler cap on his head had several cracks in it, and he walked barefoot over the old nails, broken bottles and metal scrap that littered the ground without so much as a spot of blood in his wake.
“Card,” he said, by way of hello.
Ben reached into his breast pocket and drew out a plastic-sealed baseball card, which he handed over. Stewart smacked his lips as he examined it.
“Oh, yessirree. My scissors will be havin’ a bloomin’ feast soon enough.” The card vanished into his paper jacket. “All righty. What ya wantin’?”
Ben raised hands to both of them once they faced each other. “Dani, meet Stewart. Stewart, this is my new apprentice, Dani.”
Stewart plucked the cap from his head. “Charmed,” he said, in a tone usually reserved for threatening trespassers with a loaded shotgun.
He bowed and kissed her hand. Even with the glove, it took all her self-control to not jerk away. The stink of sulfur hung around him as if he’d eaten rotten eggs for breakfast.
“Stewart’s a garbage man,” Ben said. “A trash mage.”
She looked over to the animated statues guarding the van. “That explains the golems.”
Half of Stewart’s mouth rose in a self-satisfied smile. “Righto, missy. Don’t you know how much power’s all pent up, waitin’ to go s’plodey in trash?”
“Stewart,” Ben waved to get his attention. “We need information, not lectures.”
The garbage man blew a raspberry. “And here’s me, t’inkin’ you’s come for tea. Got a fresh pot on.” He winked at Dani, catching her grimace. “Don’t worry. T’ain’t all brewed rat livers. I’s partial to a nice herbal m’self.”
Dani shuddered to imagine where he got the herbs.
“We need anythin’ you can dig up on manifestations with two cores of power,” Ben said.
Stewart chortled. “That’s simple. Just last week—”
“Two cores from opposite Pantheons. One Pure. One Corrupt.”
That popped the mage’s eyebrows up. “You’s kiddin’.”
Ben crossed his arms. Stewart looked to Dani, who shrugged.
“Don
’t look at me,” she said. “I’m just here for college credit.”
“All right, all right,” he said. “Lessee what we can scrounge up.” He wiped his nose and flicked the results Ben’s way. “Scratch out a proper circle while the missy and I gather the components, aye?”
Dani turned to Ben to protest, but he already moved away, kicking debris aside to clear a patch of dirt.
“Go on,” he said over his shoulder. “Earn those credits.”
She smiled weakly at the mage, who rubbed his hands together, drizzling grit from his palms.
“Now, now,” he said, “you’s safe as ever with me. Come inside the ol’ homestead and help an old man drag out a load.”
He took her hand and led her to the rickety door, which opened by itself. Dani tried not to breathe in the mulch-and-bile stench as they entered. She tried to sip air until her lungs demanded she let them do their job properly. At last, she relented and gulped a breath, which tasted of dirty socks.
She had to duck to keep from scraping her head on the ceiling. The walls were packed garbage and earth, reinforced with steel and wooden beams. A running string of dangling bulbs illuminated the way into the first room, little bigger than the back of Ben’s van. A rotting chair provided the only furniture, surrounded by haphazard piles of scrap metal, blasted-out computer monitors, and moldy paper.
“You live here?” She looked back out the tunnel to where she could see Ben, who drew the butt-end of the mop through the dirt. “Don’t any of you have real homes?”
“Real homes?” Stewart crouched over a pile and started picking through it. “You mean those finicky little snot-boxes you call houses and apartments? You silly folk put so much effort into keepin’ them clean it makes me laugh, it does. Always scrubbin’ the same bathrooms, or makin’ the same bed over and over. Don’t it tire you a wee bit?”
“Yeah, but it’s worth it. Otherwise we’d be neck deep in …” She waved around. “Garbage.”
He rose with a pile of odds and ends that he shoved into her hands. She pulled her arms as far away from her body as she could without dislocating her shoulders.
“Sure’n it’s filthy work,” he went on, “but hey, if I t’weren’t the one to take in the trash and put it to use, somebody else would. And if’n you’s had to choose between me and that unknown else, I’s thinkin’ you’s safer with ol’ Bogey Rat here.”
