by Rob Heinze
But it was, Charley, you saw it with your two eyes, which transferred the image to your brain and your brain, sharp, had not skewed the translation..
Come in, Charles, it’s okaaaay!
Charley walked back to his room in a haze. His mind was abstracted, and as he sat on the bed, he wondered how that could have happened. The Mesha and Eve? Hadn’t Eve been with John? She wasn’t gay, was she? Hadn’t she wanted to be with me?
Eve’s been drugged.
But has she?
Questions without answers grew fat on his mind’s blood. There were too many. But above all that, as Charley lay sleepless, one sharp image stood out like a really good photograph in his mind—
That of The Mesha’s naked body still wearing the sneakers.
20
Sam did not sleep well that night. His dreams were haunted by the cries of those who have been sacrificed. He saw them all as he had seen them the first time: wandering, naïve, helpless. They smiled at him warmly. Then he saw them as Those of the Dark consumed them: their faces horrified and in agony, agony beyond anything his young mind could conjure.
He lighted a candle and sat numbly. He stared at the candle.
There were nights when he dreamed about home. Sometimes he thought it wouldn’t be half-bad to go back. True, his life had not been great. His mother had gotten pregnant with him when she was just seventeen, quit school, and started working. His father…he didn’t know his father. He supposed that he hated him, but how could you hate just an antique thought? Something with no face? You have to associate your hate with something tangible; otherwise, the mind could not gather passion with which to fuel that hate.
His mother definitely hated her father. She cursed him; she told Sam that he should never be like that, that he should always treat women good and be a man. Being a man was a profession in his mother’s mind—a profession at which most boys never truly became successful. Sam had no idea if a lot of boys became men. He only knew that he had grown up without a man. Whatever men his mother brought home were this strange breed of non-men. Yet she always did bring home non-men, as if her mind kept forgetting that non-men, as a species, were not good for her.
The government housing in which they had lived was located in Camden, New Jersey. It was built by some rap star who had grown up in the area and wanted to give something back. The development of townhomes was a bleak wasteland, a manila cyst that grew ugly between boarded-up buildings and houses. Sam and his mother were not the only white people in the development; there were two others, one who was quite literally a raving lunatic, and one white guy dating a black girl that lived there. Sam’s mom didn’t let him into the yard to play. The yard—or the courtyard, which was what management called it, though it was by no means a courtyard—was the saddest thing Sam remembered. Empty, always empty, with a lone swing-set rotting away from disuse. It looked as if it were still influenced by nuclear fallout.
Once, someone had broken into their townhouse (all of these townhouses were connected to each other, and sometimes you could hear scary things in the neighboring houses like spousal abuse and other lovely human pastimes) and stolen all his mother’s jewelry. She had not had much, but whatever she had was stolen.
It had not been a great life.
And Sam still found that he missed it.
It was his home, wasn’t it? Okay, so there were roaches because people next door never cleaned, and the courtyard was really no more than a singed, scared boil. But he had Gamecube, and sometimes he would sit there and play and he’d forget where he was, and his mother would peek in the room and ask him if he wanted a grilled cheese, and then she’d make it for him with the bread toasted brown and a light taste of butter on it—
Most of all, he missed his mom.
She had nothing but him.
If I don’t wake, I don’t think my mother will live long.
Sam was tired suddenly. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but sleep would not come. He sat up. He paced the room. He thought about Those of the Light and Dark. He still dreamed of the Special Place, of standing on the brink of that stone bridge and gazing at the temple-structure in the rock wall beyond. He dreamed about it a lot.
He imagined the joy he’d see on his mother’s face when his eyes came open. Thinking of it made him smile uncontrollably.
He knew then. He burst out of his room and ran down to the steps, heading towards Charley’s room.
He knew that he had little time.
21
There was a light tap on his door. Charley felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He turned numbly to the door.
“Who is it?” He heard himself croak.
The door opened inwards, and it was not Sam: The Mesha stepped into the room. She was wearing the red dress, sneakers and all. She had seen the vomit on the floor after emerging from Eve’s room, and she had wanted to check on him.
“Are you feeling okay?” She asked, a tone of genuine concern in her voice.
“Yeah,” Charley lied.
”I’ll get someone to clean it up later,” she said, meaning the vomit.
Silence fell between them. She looked at Charley. The woman seemed to be the sole reason why a man was given genitals. Crude, but true: there wasn’t a single speck of unattractiveness on her. She was to a penis what blood was to mosquitoes.
The Mesha, sensing that she was again being admired, approached the bed. Charley, remembering what the woman had been doing, tried to forget about how god-like The Mesha was.
“How’s Eve doing?” He asked sarcastically.
“She’s okay,” The Mesha said. “I was just down there.”
Oh, I bet you were.
“Is something wrong, Charley?”
He slowly shook his head. The Mesha did not like the way this was going. So she reached out and touched his leg. Charley recoiled, pulling his leg away quickly. She held her hand up, as if she had accidentally set off an alarm. She was smiling innocently.
“I’m just checking on you, Charley,” The Mesha said.
She inched closer to him on the bed. Her breasts shifted as she leaned into him. Charley wouldn’t look at them, wouldn’t allow himself to look at them. He gazed off at the far wall, all of a sudden feeling sick again. Her hand. Her hand was on his leg again. He didn’t shy away this time. The Mesha smiled to herself.
Yes, she thought. They always will. It doesn’t matter what they have at home, they always will. He only needs to see my body, and everything will unfold from there.
Her hand squeezed, feeling the faint muscle in his thigh.
She started to rub, massage, and she inched closer to him on the bed. Only one man, a flaming homosexual, had turned her down in this no-world (maybe even ever, for that matter). She had shoved him from the roof, watching as his arms and legs fluttered as if he were trying to fly. No one had ever found the body. No one had ever asked her about his disappearance. She could not afford someone she could not manipulate living in this place.
She began to inch her hand up his leg, searching for that hard spot which would most assuredly be there.
“I won’t hurt you,” she whispered in his ear.
It happened in a millisecond, the way things always do—
Charley leapt off the bed and moved away from her. Despite himself, despite everything, his penis had gone and filled itself and there it looked like an absurd pool cue inside his pants. The Mesha saw it and felt pride.
Mr. Tartano, it’s not your fault. It was my fault.
“Don’t touch me,” Charley said, panting. “Just don’t touch me.”
She put her hand to her ample breasts in mock surprise. “What did I do to offend you, Charley?”
“I…can you just leave? That’s all I want.”
The Mesha knew this one was a lost cause. Oh, oh, she supposed that there were some good ones in life, those who could resist temptation. She hadn’t found any yet, save for that one homosexual whose body was long decomposed. She stood up from the bed
and adjusted her skirt, which had shifted during her delicate scooting process.
“I am sorry,” she said, and left the room.
22
She was mad. She was really mad. It didn’t hit her until she was outside of his room.
No one turns me down, she thought. Not me.
She stormed down the hallway and took the elevator. She would go to Peter’s room. Peter was her consistent lover. Peter was sitting on the bed. He saw her and stood. He was ready for her almost immediately; he knew how to serve his Mesha. She got on top of him.
She thought of Charley the whole time, up on the roof, hair streamlined back in the wind. She would be behind him. He would beg her, beg her as he hadn’t begged tonight. She wouldn’t hear. Impassively, she would shove him off the building, watching as his body tumbled over and over towards the ground. Maybe his arms and legs would flutter too.
Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow they go to the woods.
23
We have to leave here, Charley thought.
He wasn’t sure if they should go tonight or tomorrow. He felt that it should be tonight—right now, in fact. Would Eve want to leave? After what he had seen her doing to The Mesha?
The woman clearly had some psycho-sexual issues and some power, and Charley felt a growing suspicion that a lot of the people here had been seduced by her, male and female.
He sat on the bed. He stood. He went to his door, opened it, stepped into the hallway, and startled.
24
“I’m sorry!” The boy Sam said.
Charley had barely managed to bite back his yelp of surprise; the boy Sam had scared him. His heart labored in his chest for a moment, but it eventually settled down to a steady lub-dub. He stared down at the boy, speechless, and remembered seeing him for the first time out on the road. He had looked as if he were hiding something then. Now he looked like he his mental bladder was ready to burst.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Okay. I was just going to Eve’s room.”
“Good, she needs to know too,” he said.
He started down the hall. Charley followed him, and they entered Eve’s room together.
They found Eve sitting up in bed, still clinging to that euphoric state The Mesha had induced. Her body felt energized.
When the door opened, she glanced up, half expecting to see The Mesha again.
It was Charley and the boy Sam.
“What’s going on?” She asked.
Charley didn’t say anything. In fact, he kept his head down most of the time as if afraid to raise his eyes and meet Eve’s gaze. He was uncomfortable, but she had no idea he had seen her and The Mesha.
“I need to talk to you,” Sam said.
Eve glanced up to Charley, who fake smiled her and averted his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s time you two left,” Sam said. “And I think I’ll come with you.”
25
“Why?” Eve asked.
“The Mesha wants to sacrifice you.”
He paused, and in that time, Eve had the luxury of remembering The Mesha as the woman lay between her legs. Charley had the misfortune of remembering the dream of her on top of Sarah, slowly drawing the knife up her belly.
Sam finished: “To Those of the Dark.”
The phrase hung in the silence of the room for a long time.
“What do you mean?” Eve asked.
“It’s easier if I tell you everything from the beginning.”
“Okay,” Charley said. “Go ahead.”
Sam took a deep breath and began:
“It’s part of our deal here. Those of the Dark give us power, light, safety. They don’t bother any of us. They only want…want people occasionally. The problem that they have is that, in this world, they can’t just take people. They have to battle Those of the Light.”
Charley remembered The Mesha saying that Those of the Light had led her here, and that they gave her the energy to run the elevators. He also remembered seeing Those of the Dark descend on John. Wait, had they actually seen that? He couldn’t remember. But he could remember that Those of the Dark had been there, waiting for them to leave. They hadn’t fought Those of the Light then, had they?
“But they’re lazy too, like us, and sometimes they just want the people without having to work. They don’t always win either. So The Mesha worked out a deal with them.”
Charley was in total disbelief.
“How could she have worked out a deal with them? Do they talk? This is absurd.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said weakly, “but it’s true. I’ve seen it; I’ve helped her.”
He took a deep breath and then went into his story.
“I got here when the number of people was still small. The Mesha was just in the process of setting this place up. I remember the first people I found, the first people I helped her sacrifice. It was this fat man and this very skinny girl. They were complete opposites, and it was funny to see them walking together. I found them just outside of the hospital, not far from where I found you.
“They came and they stayed for a little while. I didn’t really know what The Mesha planned to do with them, not really, though I knew she had some kind of plan for them. I didn’t really like them. The girl was always quiet and crying. The fat guy never smiled, never talked. Later, I tried to say they were just mean, and that was why I did it.”
He sighed and looked down at the floor. Charley glanced over at Eve, his discomfort towards her slowly ebbing. She wasn’t smiling. He glanced back to Sam. Sam looked up; there were tears in his eyes.
“Some people aren’t happy here—can’t be happy here, I guess. I guess they just weren’t meant to be here. The dream…the dream of the Special Place just becomes too strong, and they want to go there. I suppose if you’ve got a lot waiting for you, you’d go back. I have a lot here, but I have a lot back there too. Most of the people here never talk about being awake. Most people never even think about crossing that stone bridge. I know that Belinda doesn’t ever talk about it. I do, though.”
Charley heard the name, and ignored it. The name meant nothing to him.
“I remember taking that fat man and the skinny girl to the clearing in the woods. There were a bunch of us, and I really didn’t know what was happening. The Mesha led us there confidently. I still wonder how she worked it out with Those of the Dark; I’d love to know that.
“We didn’t bind the prisoners. The Mesha made it out to be, I think, just a stroll around the woods. They walked with the rest of us, clueless, talking ever now and then. They were one with us, together. The Mesha led us on into the thick woods. I don’t know how long we traveled, but eventually we came to a clearing. It was a huge, circular spot free of trees. Grass grew low to the ground, and there was more dirt than grass across it.”
He stopped and breathed deeply, shuddering as if the memory were too powerful. He began again:
“The Mesha walked out to the center of that clearing, and everyone else—everyone who knew about the plan—stopped. They didn’t pass beyond the line of trees. I was actually going to follow her out, because I didn’t know about the plan, but someone stopped me with a hand across my chest. The Mesha looked radiant in that clearing. She looked like some sort of goddess. The skinny girl and the fat guy followed The Mesha out to the center of the clearing. They didn’t know that we had stopped. When they were in the center, a good distance away, The Mesha stopped. They stopped too. She said something to them. I don’t know what.
“I watched and waited. They began to appear around the trees, their faces peeping out like bright, evil eyes in darkness. The Mesha must have sensed them. Her head perked up, and she glanced wide-eyed into the trees. Suddenly, without warning, she broke out into a sprint. It was the strangest thing to see, her running like that. It doesn’t…it doesn’t fit her, I guess. But it’s why she always wears sneakers, I think. Any other shoes, and she would have been trapped.
&n
bsp; “I watched in fascination as Those of the Dark emerged from the trees and fell on the skinny girl and the fat man. By the time the two realized what was going on, it was too late. Those of the Dark began to consume them. I can’t describe it anymore. I don’t want to. But now you know what happens. Belinda was sweating really badly, and so was everyone else when we left. Aside from that harried, sweaty look, there was fear in all the faces around me, and that made me more scared than anything. I had nightmares about that for a long time.”
Sam stopped and looked at them. They were quiet for a long time, the story slowly sinking into their minds.
“How many times have they done that?” Eve asked.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot.”
Eve shivered. She thought about The Mesha bringing her that lovely pleasure, the feel of her highly trained tongue.
She can’t be that evil, Eve thought. She can’t be. She’s doing it because she has no choice.
Charley thought only about those white sneakers. He had known that those sneakers told a secret story about the woman, and now he knew that story.
“I don’t want that to happen to you,” Sam said, “and I think that I want to go home. I know it. I can take you there, to the Special Place, if you’ll come with me. I can take you there.”
Charley thought about Sarah, sitting near his comatose body, her lithe fingers moving through his hair. He wanted to take those fingers and kiss them, each one, from knuckle to knuckle. He was ready to go; he would follow Sam. Eve was less gung-ho. Her thoughts were bent entirely on The Mesha and what the woman had shown her. The woman had a gift, and Eve still wanted to partake of that gift.
But then she thought of her parents, her family, of her friends and her school and graduating and all of the stuff that she had somehow forgot over the time she’d been in this no-world.
She glanced to Charley, who seemed to understand her indecision.
