He lets this sink in before he adds, ‘I can hear her, you know.’
Gil says this like it’s so ordinary there’s no reason for me to act surprised. But obviously I can’t help it. I’ve never seen anyone do anything like whatever it was that Gil just did. Not in a dream, and definitely not in real life.
‘At first I couldn’t understand her. I only felt her. But now I see her too. Now she talks through me.’
I feel this sharp stab of prehappiness.
Gil sees Dot. She talks to him. It’s obvious he’s been chosen, that he’ll be singled out on completion night. Whereas Dot shows me stuff that isn’t real and definitely isn’t dotly. I don’t know what it means, but I don’t think it’s anything good.
‘What does she say to you? I mean, is this how you knew about the signs?’
‘I see our lawn, washed in pale golden light. Dot steps out of the fringe and takes me in her arms. She always says the same thing. “Defend the dotly”.’
‘“Defend the dotly”? I don’t get it.’ A bubble drifts between me and Gil. He waits for me to fill in the gaps, to figure it out.
‘“Defend the dotly”’ I repeat. ‘Um …’
‘Come on,Wren. Dot created you intelligent.’
‘But everyone’s dotly. It says so in the Books.’
‘We’re created dotly. Dot’s saying we don’t all stay that way.’
Images whirl into my head and out again. Gil’s hands crushing that wren. Flames licking at the feathered body. Then those prenormal images inside my head. People who shouldn’t exist. Places that aren’t here. Can Gil tell just by looking at me? Does he know? Dot’s inside him so maybe …
I have to act like Gil’s conversation is having no effect on me. Gil has to think I’m normal.
So I say, ‘What other way is there to be?’
Gil gives me this smile like I couldn’t possibly understand.
‘There’s happiness and prehappiness. Calm and precalm. Why not dotly and predotly?’
‘Predotly? Is that a thing?’
It pops out of me in this little squeak before I have time to think or moderate in any way. So much for looking normal.
‘Dot wants us to defend the dotly,’ Gil says, all cool and pale. ‘It’s simple logic there has to be something to defend it against.’
‘Totally,’ I say in a rush, trying to recover as fast as I can. ‘It makes sense. Wow though. Wow. That’s major. Who’s predotly? I mean, is Dot going to give you names and everything?’
By now, I’m kind of babbling.
‘There are the signs,’ Gil says. ‘There’s a lot you can tell from behaviour too. Who does the dotly thing and who doesn’t.’
He crooks his finger in a come-here kind of way. Still on my knees, I shuffle across the cushion towards him. When I get close enough, he reaches out the same finger and touches my cheekbone.
‘We should all read our Books.’ Gil’s hand moves from my face to the top of my head. He strokes it like I’m a deer or something, with my head bent down, eating grass.
‘We should follow her instructions. Be kind. Have fun. Hook up.’
‘I do. I do those things.’
‘Of course,Wren. No-one said you didn’t.’
Gil’s hand goes on smoothing my hair and his fingertips start to circle their way downwards until they’re edging under the neck of my sungarb. Is it dotly to do this in the gazebo? If it were predotly, Gil would know, I tell myself. He’s the one who found out about predotliness in the first place. If he wants this, then Dot wants it too. That’d be right, wouldn’t it? I don’t want to do anything predotly.
Then somewhere behind us, this voice says, ‘Gil? You ready to go?’
I do more than just jump. I swear to Dot, my entire body leaves the cushion and hovers in mid-air before crashing back down again. Gil’s the same. I whip around and there’s Brook over by the door of the gazebo, half-hidden by the late afternoon shadows streaking the ground.
‘Have you been there this whole time?’
Brook rolls his shoulders and gives me this single nod.
Gil laughs. ‘He’s never far away.’
Brook’s as tall as Blaze but twice as lean. It’s like, when Dot created Brook she didn’t waste a single speck of her materials. There’s almost not enough skin on him. What’s there is stretched so tight you can see the bones underneath.
Not that Brook isn’t strong. He is. He’s powerful, especially with the coconut knife in his hand. On his ankle, there’s a prenormal dotmark. A little coloured circle, right there on his skin. I’ve often thought of asking him what it is, but Brook has this way of discouraging questions.
Gil’s hand clamps around one of my shoulders like a claw or something.
‘I hang around when Gil’s talking to Dot,’ Brook says.
He’s looking at Gil’s hand on my shoulder.
‘It’s quite a draining process,’ says Gil. ‘Emotionally and physically.’
Brook says, ‘I’ll take you back to your hut.’
But Gil goes all crisp and tells him, ‘I’m fine for now.’
‘Yeah? Because I can …’
‘Now Wren has seen this, I want to share it with her.’
Brook turns to me. ‘What are you doing here anyway? Didn’t you come earlier?’
I flick my eyes from the bubbles to the billowing banners to Dot’s portrait on the lattice wall. I swallow. I force out a laugh.
‘What, are you following me or something?’
Brook’s face is blank as a hut wall.
‘Anyway, who said you can’t come twice a day? The gazebo is sort of awesome, you know.’
Then Gil goes, ‘Let’s walk.’
‘Is that a good idea?’ There’s a prehappy edge to Brook’s voice. He looks at me. ‘Do you want to?’
‘Thank you, Brook.’ Gil’s sharper than ever. ‘I think Wren knows what Dot wants her to do.’
He gets to his feet and holds his hand out to me.
Brook folds his arms across his chest and there’s a loud huff as he breathes out. Gil kind of steers me past him and out through the doorway. Before we go, Gil turns back around to Brook and says, ‘You know what would be useful? Collect me some fruit.’
He turns to me and adds, ‘I’m ravenous. I always am when she’s been inside me.’
For a moment, Brook blocks the doorway, not saying yes and not saying no.
‘Meet me back at my hut in a little bit? We’ll spend some time together, I’ll tell you what Dot shared with me.’
‘You want cherries?’
‘And apricots.’ Gil smiles. ‘Please.’
Brook shoots me one more look before wheeling around and disappearing in the direction of the orchard.
____________________
Obviously me and Gil aren’t just walking. He has something particular in mind, so he takes me somewhere special, to a bunch of magnolia trees with glossy green leaves and a pond in the middle. Blaze’s pond, which in the late afternoon isn’t glowing yet.
‘How did you know about this place?’
‘I looked for it, after Blaze mentioned it.’ Gil smiles. ‘At least, Brook looked for it. We like to know everything that goes on.’
We bash through the trees and Gil says over his shoulder, ‘Dot’s definitely created more spectacular things.’
From which I figure out Gil hasn’t seen the pond glowing. As in, he’s missed the point of it completely.
‘You took one today, I assume.’
A capsule, Gil means. And by asking that Gil is telling me that what I thought was going to happen really is going to happen.
‘As if I wouldn’t!’
The capsules are what makes it safe for us to hook up all the time. I keep my bottle beside my bed. The bottle’s green but the capsules inside are see-through, filled with multicoloured balls that rattle around when you shake them. I take mine as soon as I wake up, the same way I’ve done ever since I was created. The bottle’s the first thing I see when I op
en my eyes – if I spend the night in my own hut, that is.
Capsules are just one thing that the Books say about hooking up. There’s also stuff about all creations having natural desires and how it’s fine in Dot’s eyes to hook up with whoever you want, as often as you want. It’s not like we have to hook up once a day or anything like that though. It’s just about having fun and being happy.
‘I’m surprised Dot’s never wanted you and me to do this before.’
Gil has his hand on my shoulders and I know he wants me to sit down. So I do. The green grass at our feet is long and soft and littered with glossy leaves that the trees all around us have dropped. Gil pulls me onto his lap so our faces are close enough to touch. I creep my hands across his back, the way I know he wants me to. The way Dot wants me to. My fingers find nubbly things underneath his skin and across his shoulders. Gil closes his eyes. I feel his lips against my cheek. He wants to hook up, that’s obvious. It’s just, I’m not sure I do.
For one there’s the way Gil feels,all cold to the touch. His snake-lips are thin and papery as a page of one of Julius’s prenormal books. Dry too, which explains why he’s always licking them. I notice all these things about Gil because our first kiss isn’t one you lose yourself in or anything. What I mean is, I don’t start kissing Gil then suddenly look up and see the sun’s gone down and nighttime’s here. Every rotation of his head, every time our teeth clank, I notice it all.
‘This is nice,’ Gil says. ‘Very dotly.’
That’s when I get it. I finally figure out what’s going on with those dreams. Those people and places aren’t real, just like I always thought. I’m seeing them because Dot wants to test me. That’s why she made them up and planted them in my head. Some creations are dotly and some are predotly, and Dot wants me to prove to her which one I am.
If I were a less dotly person, the wide-awake dreams might make me doubt my faith in Dot. Maybe that’s what’s going on with Blaze. It could be that he’s predotly.
Not me, though. I’m absolutely, definitely, one hundred per cent dotly. I’m going to show Dot my faith’s unshakable. I’m going to show her I believe.
The best time to start, obviously, is right now. Gil has always been superdotly. So even if I’m not totally convinced I want to get close to Gil, I’m going to do it because it’s what Dot wants.
I close my eyes. So far I’ve been kind of holding myself apart from Gil just a little bit, but now I make myself relax against him. Gil drops his head to my neck and starts kissing it, eating it practically. He moves his mouth from my neck back to my lips. We kiss properly, his dry lips to mine again.
The whole time, I’m thinking, See, Dot? See how dotly I am? I’m doing just what you want.
At the same time, I start wondering about completion night, whether if I show Dot I’m a good believer, I might be one of her chosen ones. And obviously I’m desperate to be chosen. I want it more than anyone has ever wanted anything. Those prenormal images of life outside Dot’s creation have given me a little taste of what it’s like to feel your faith slipping. I know for sure I don’t want that to happen anymore.
Gil pulls away. ‘You’re somewhere else.’ Even though he says it quietly, it comes out shocking as a slap.
I laugh a high little laugh, as though Gil’s got it completely wrong. ‘Oh yeah? Like where exactly? The lagoon? No, I know. I’m climbing the rocks!’
‘Are you prehealthy?’ Gil says this slowly.
‘What? No. Are you serious? I’m feel great. Why would you say I’m prehealthy?’
‘You’re acting distracted,Wren.’ He sort of considers me then. ‘It’s your eyes as well.’
My hands fly up to my face, like feeling my eyes is going to tell me something. But of course, everything up there feels the same as always. Lashes, lids. You know, the standard stuff, all still in place.
‘My eyes?’ I squeeze out another laugh. Can Gil see I’m being tested just by looking at my face?
‘My eyes are fine.’
Everything is fine. I’m going to repeat that to myself, over and over, until I make it true. Until I pass Dot’s test.
Gil lifts his face and says, ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
If Gil wasn’t holding me up, I’d probably collapse right there on the ground.
‘Obviously! This is completely dotly. I’m completely dotly so of course I’m –’
‘Good.’
Gil tugs at the hem of my sungarb. ‘You should take this off.’
‘Okay.’
If this is what is takes to prove myself to Dot, then I’ll do it. I’ll do it a million billion times over if I have to.
11
THE LAGOON’S TOTALLY different at night. For a start, it’s empty. The sun went down ages ago and now, in the thick, still prelight, I’m the only one here. And the water, which is normally bright blue, now looks all deep and mysterious. The only light comes from the bottom, which is dotted with silvery pinpoints that start to sparkle when the sun fades.
I pull my sungarb over my head and drop it so it puddles in a damp pile at my feet. Since Gil and the gazebo and the magnolia trees, I’ve been sweating like that’s all I was created to do. I spent ages – too long – examining my eyes in the mirror in my hut. At first, the black circles looked normal to me. At least, that’s what I told myself.
But the longer I looked the more I had to admit they were pretty small, just like Blaze’s. So to forget about that, I tried sleeping in my hammock. Except every time I closed my prenormal eyes I saw things I didn’t want to see.
You know, places called parks and creations called Julius and Mum. I guess I thought hooking up with Gil might erase all that, or dilute it somehow. I hoped it would show Dot she didn’t need to test me anymore. But the images inside my head are as clear as ever. Apparently in Dot’s eyes I’m no better after the thing with Gil than I was before. Now, basically all I feel like doing is getting clean.
I slip into the water. Under the surface, my legs look all bleached, nothing like a creation’s skin normally does. It’s sort of like I’m someone else altogether, someone I don’t even know. In the shallows, I drop to my knees and slide under the water completely. About a million fish slip past me and I stay down there as long as I can, hidden, until everything inside me is on the point of bursting. It’s only then that I shoot up again, flip onto my back and lie in a starfish pose, arms and legs pointing outwards.
I open my eyes and I can see the ledge Blaze wanted me to climb to, jutting out from the rocky wall of the escarpment. Above the ledge, the escarpment goes higher and higher and that starts me wondering. If Blaze thought I could climb to the ledge, then maybe I could climb to the very top. From up there I could see the whole of creation.
Floating under the great big velvety dome of the sky, the idea of seeing Dot’s brilliance laid out in front of me makes me feel so happy. I can’t help wondering why Dot doesn’t want us to climb the escarpment so we could see all creation for ourselves.
Then I remember. I know why. It’d be presafe to climb so high and Dot only wants to protect us. She knows what’s best for us. That’s what I’m busy telling myself when I first hear the noise.
I plant my feet on the bottom of the lagoon and stand waist-deep in water, listening. The sound has stopped, but I know I heard something. I definitely did, and I’m pretty sure it was coming from the trees around the lagoon. I look up, figuring I’ll see a monkey springing from branch to branch, or an owl with those big glossy round eyes or whatever. But there’s nothing apart from a bunch of leaves shivering in the night air.
Diving under the water, I start convincing myself I imagined the noise. It could happen. I mean, I’d have to say my head’s not in the clearest state in all creation right at this moment. But when I pop up and look back to the trees, I see a flash of movement. I swear it. An arm pokes through the leaves of an avocado tree, then straightaway disappears.
‘Gil?’
I have no clue why I think it’s going to b
e him. I can’t even work out if I hope it is or I wish it isn’t.
Whatever, because there’s no reply anyway. Nothing. If this is a joke, it’s kind of prefunny. Whoever’s playing it really should be owning up by now. That’s pretty much the whole definition of a joke. When it’s not funny, it’s not a joke anymore, right?
‘Brook? Blaze? Hello? I saw you, you know.’
I haul myself over the edge of the lagoon and onto the cool, flat rocks. It’s kind of difficult and I work out that’s because my arms have started shaking.
‘I’m getting out,’ I say. Completely pointless really, since whoever’s in the trees can obviously see every single thing I’m doing.
‘I’m coming over.’
Water rolls down my skin, leaving a trail of droplets behind me as I walk towards the trees. Straightaway I see something. Well, someone really. A person.
Suddenly I remember the word. A boy.
The boy is crouched behind the avocado tree. His face is round and open and shiny with sweat. His hair is short and cloudy soft. And he’s way smaller than anyone else in creation. Not much bigger than Julius, I think. Except Julius is only an image in my head whereas this boy is right here in front of me.
The boy stands up, staring, looking away, staring again, and the whole time he’s got this tiny little smile on his face. Smiling to himself – not to me, if you get what I mean.
I think my mouth is hanging open, I don’t know. Absolutely for sure my cheeks and tongue are all numb.
‘Nathan’s never going to believe this.’
The boy is pretty happy, I can tell. ‘You really don’t wear any clothes.’
I say, ‘Come here.’
If I touch him, I’ll see my hand pass through him. Then I’ll know he isn’t real. I mean, of course he isn’t. This must be part of Dot’s test. Another phase or something. She’s realised the images in my head are never going to shake my faith. So now I guess she’s wondering what I’d do if someone new, someone who shouldn’t exist, appeared right in front of me.
Then something forces its way out of the boy’s mouth. A bubble, melon-sized. It’s like the gazebo bubbles except it’s purple and smells of … of … I know the smell. I know the name.
State of Grace Page 6
