Circular Motion

by Ripple Reddwoord

  “Understanding is here.” The screen on his laptop turned on and there was a map that I couldn’t make out on it. Pedro looked at the computer and then back at me. “House Number Minus Q says there were no space monkeys above us when picked up you were so safe we must be for now. Also we will be clear of them for long enough for you to do as you wish, unless they have a parrot on either of us. Satellites can be tracked but the planes are still unpredictable, si?”

  “Yes.” Like you I connected that to his ‘sky of spies’ remark earlier. “They are always a problem.”

  “But one day we shall walk free, my brother. One day we shall.” He looked away from his laptop. “Do you have any pressing communiqués? All you see here tempest certified equipment it is.”

  “No thank you. I am under silence, you see.” I meant radio silence. But I didn’t really mean that. I of course didn’t know what I was doing. But I think he didn’t think it was strange so I guess it was ok. I started trying to make conversation. “So how long have you been here alone?”

  “We have been driving for some time but are never alone.” He motioned to the screen that had the television broadcast on it. It looked like a news show but I was missing what was really going on at first. “Pedro is in constant contact with our House.”

  “Yes. We are never alone.” The televisions were acting funny. Whenever there was a bought of static snow on the screen one of the other monitors would scroll out more text. That bothered me; it was subliminal signal beneath my threshold of comprehension.

  He opened the freezer and pulled out a bagel. Under the table he found a toaster and toasted the bagel for me. “If you freeze them they stay fresh you know.”

  I just nodded. It was probably true.

  Pedro moved to the front of the truck again. “Come here, señor. Pedro has something to give you.”

  He slipped through the curtain and I followed him. When I sat down on the passenger seat I saw that we were behind another car. It looked like a Studebaker.

  “Hold on for a second, my brother.” He grabbed the steering wheel and swerved to the other side of the road. The red light by the stereo flicked off. He started speeding up and when he passed the Studebaker he swerved back on the right side of the road and flopped on the red light again. “We are still working on that you know. But, now for the message.”

  He pulled open the glove compartment and took out a slip of paper.

  “Here, take this.” I looked at it. It had this string of numbers and letters on it.

  711E7DAD32ADEF5F1EADA45E216A912C38AFA86006E70DAF

  “What’s this?” I think that was the right sequence. I might have messed up a letter or two but I don’t think so.

  “Give this to El Sid the next time you see him. Just in case we don’t make it, si?” He got up again and went to the back of the truck. “El Sid will know what with it to do.”

  I looked at the paper again. It was really just a Post-it® Note.

  “Oh, and one more thing, señor.” It was Pedro again. His stuck his head through the curtain. “Do not let those in the sky see it. House Number 2 says NSA not able to decode as of yet, but we cannot afford to become without care, si?”

  I nodded to him and he went back again. This ride was getting weirder by the minute. I breathed in and smelt the cigar smoke. (Mustardseed)

  Buildings began to mushroom out of the earth. The van slowed down. I pressed through the black kerchief and saw Pedro in front of the mirror stretching his neck with his fingers, eyes rolled down to see his reflection in the glass. He stopped and turned to me and twitched his left eye again. He was waiting for me to say something. “We have reached the city. I must part company with you now.”

  “We understand, señor.” He glanced back at the mirror before walking towards me. “Is there anywhere in particular you must be dropped off at?”

  I wasn’t sure. “The Chinatown if it is possible.”

  “Ok.” I thought most cities would have a Chinatown. He squeezed past me and into the driver’s compartment. Mustardseed was on the cot sleeping. Her lower jaw hung loose a little as she slept. Then she opened her eyes.

  “Is it time to go or does it snow?” She was lying on her side with her knees bent and hands folded under her head. Ten fingers.

  “It’s time to go.” She closed her eyes for a second and then reached out with her hand. I held it as she got out of bed. I was thinking maybe she had dreampt of making snow-angles. I haven’t made a snow-angle in years. Maybe I was in love. I mean ‘dreamed’. Spell checkers don’t like ‘dreampt’.

  When she was on her feet I let go and stuck my head in the front. We were in Chinatown already. I saw characters everywhere in red and yellow and white. Every now and then there would be the English translation under the Chinese that I could understand.

  Pedro pulled over next to a peep show. I stepped though and shook his hand. “Good luck, my friend.”

  Pedro nodded. “And to you as well, my Brother. We will see you on Lapland?”

  “Of course.” I think that’s somewhere in Eastern Europe.

  “Here wait.” He pulled a crumpled lump of bills out of his pocket and handed me some of it “Take this.”

  “No, you have been too kind already.” I wasn’t sure if taking money from this guy was a good idea.

  “It is nothing.” I shook my head at it. “No, it is really nothing. Counterfeit, si?”

  He cracked a smile. So did I. I thought he was funny. “As counterfeit as the real thing?”

  “Of course my brother.” I took the money and stepped out of the van.

  Mustardseed came out next. “Goodbye, thank you.”

  Pedro took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Goodbye my princess.”

  She smiled and got down on the sidewalk next to me. “Vive la revolution!”

  “May God be our savior.” Actually it sounded more like ‘Godot’ but that’s just too weird. Pedro smiled and she closed the door and we waved as he pulled away from the curb and drove down the street.

  Finis

  The first thing we did in the city was attempt to find food.

  I remember walking past shops and through the windows seeing faded red plush and dirty gold Chinese characters stenciled on the walls and waitresses with plaster smiles. Between the shops sometimes there were alleys and fire escapes and trash dumpsters and boxes with people sleeping in them. (past === future) We crossed this intersection when the light was red and there was this little girl on the other of the street waiting for a green staring at us and with I think her mom’s hand clenched in a fist around her palm.

  “Let’s go in this one.” She stepped into a place called Hong Kong Café. When she opened the door perfume came out riding on the sounds of the plates and conversations from restaurant inside.

  “Ok.” I followed her in. When I stepped through the doorway there was a change in luminosity state and I couldn’t see very well waiting for my pupils to open up. (a, a->aa) A shadow of what I thought was a waiter walked up and said hi. “Hello.”

  “A table for two?” It was a waitress. I could see again as she picked up two menus and walked towards the rear of the restaurant. “Smoking or non-smoking?”

  “Um, non-smoking I guess.” She sat us down at the halfway point; next to the smoking section I think. There was a glass of water and some tea at our table. I didn’t like the perfume. It smelled alien/not mother. I don’t know the exact name for what I registered. But I was awake and could taste it.

  The smell made me nervous so I ripped a square of paper from the menu. I remember I went to the library and signed a book out on origami after watching Blade Runner. They had only one book and it was in the children’s section. Anyway I took the paper from the menu and made a giraffe. On the neck the giraffe had written ‘Happy Family ………….. 8.95’. “Wow. That’s pretty cool.”

  “Thanks.” I hadn’t done it in a while so the giraffe was lopsided. I was worried about tearing the paper too much so I didn’t make the
ears right either. “I could… Butterflies aren’t so hard to make. I can show you if you want.”

  “Sure.”

  “Take… first you need square piece of paper.” I tore another section of my menu. She did the same with hers. “Fold it into a square like this.”

  I showed her how to crease it and make a smaller square. “Like this?”

  “Ya.” The beginning steps in origami are especially important cuz if you’re off just a little it’ll come out drastically deformed in the end. (strange attractor) “Next you pull out the edges so it looks kinda like a boat.”

  I showed her how to do the tail. “Doesn’t look like much of a butterfly.”

  “It’s not done yet.” Then we folded the front wings and creased the body and the head.

  “I see it now.” She played with it making the wings flap.

  Mine didn’t come out as good as hers. The wings were crooked and asymmetric. The waiter came and we ordered two more menus.

  “I don’t think she likes us very much.”

  “The waitress? Can you blame her? We ruined a pair of her menus.” I crumpled my insect up into an irregular sphere and rolled it with my fingers. Someone walked by and dropped off new menus.

  “Do you have much money left?” She placed her piece next to her glass of water.

  My giraffe was still standing. “Ya, a lot actually. Pedro gave me a bundle.”

  “That was nice of him.” She leaned back in her chair with her head looking at the ceiling. I could see her neck. “Where do you know him from?”

  “I don’t really.” The waitress came back. I ordered Grandfather Chicken and she ordered some tofu. It came pretty quickly which was odd cuz the restaurant was kinda crowded. I had a few bites but didn’t like it very much.

  “You don’t like it very much do you?” she asked me with her chopsticks poised in the air.

  “Ya…” But I hadn’t eaten in a while so I was forcing myself to eat something.

  She pulled something out from underneath the table and gave them to me. It was a bagel.

  “Thanks.” I took a bite. Then I took another but I wished I had cream cheese. It wasn’t so bad though. I think she got it from Pedro’s truck.

  #

  After eating we went outside again. The sun no longer hung above and there was only an etching of color in the sky to the west. The moon either had not risen yet or was masked by clouds in the upper atmosphere. Street lamps emitted their familiar yellow glow and we started walking east down the street deeper into the city. The shops were much like those in the other city where we started except while before they intermingled with houses and soon became middle-class suburbia here they permeated ad infinitum throughout the night.

  But I didn’t really think that. It’s what I would say if this were third person.

  #

  boolean IsThird = true;

  Person* ptrCharTable = CharTable + CharTableSize * sizeof(Person);

  do {

  if(cmrCameraMain == ptrCharTable -= sizeof(Person))->ViewPoint)

  IsThird = false;

  } while (ptrCharTable != CharTable);

  #

  I remember wondering where she wanted to go now. We made a turn off the main boulevard and onto a cobble stone street. I could see dark clumps of grass between the stones in the road. In front of us a horse drawn carriage opened up and deposited two people. One of buildings that lined the boulevard swallowed the figures in turn.

  “Let’s take that buggy.” It was Mustardseed.

  “What? Do you want to go for a ride?” I thought ‘buggy’ was a strange type descriptor.

  “Yes.”

  We walked towards the carriage and the carriage held its place as we walked towards it. (redundancy) I held out my right hand and the driver on top nodded and the horse with visor-blocked peripheral vision neighed. I opened the door and helped her in.

  “Where to?” The driver’s voice was weak like Chloraseptic and he coughed and said it again. “Where to?”

  “A park.” She sat down in the rear of the coach. I was across from her.

  The door closed behind me by itself. A cacophony of hooves began and we rolled forward. Or backward in relation to me. She had her eyes closed. Streetlights shaped like box lanterns would intermittently float above us, rising behind me and setting in front.

  I heard could hear the wheels creak as they turned. All of the sudden I had this déjà vu flash forward experience. I pictured us in a similar carriage but I had a black top hat on and she adorned a puffy Victorian dress. There was snow on the ground and my breath would condense in the cold to ice and fall on my lap. It didn’t last very long and soon I was back in the present, listening to the stop and go of car traffic. I’m not sure what it meant but I think it’s along the lines of the apple portrait I’ll tell you about later.

  She opened her eyes and looked out on the buildings. Her legs were crossed and her hands were placed on top of her knee.

  “Beautiful night we’re having.” It was the driver. I heard him speak behind me.

  The air felt clean and dry and fresh even though it was a little warm. Mustardseed responded. “Yes. Quite.”

  “We won’t have many more like this.” I turned my neck for a second to try and see him. He held the horses at a red light and waited for a change of color.

  She looked over me at him. “Why is that?”

  “Summertime’s passing us by.” The carriage started forward again. “Besides, if perfection like this lasted for ever it wouldn’t be the same now, would it?”

  I heard a rhythm in the hoof beats this time and all became less chaotic. The hoof beats I mean. I’m not sure why ‘all’ is the subject of the secondary clause there. More lights passed overhead until one stopped above us.

  “Here we are.”

  She opened the door and stepped outside. I followed her and gave the driver some fake money.

  “Thank you.” The carriage started up again. “Have a pleasant evening.”

  #

  So again I was in a park with her. The park was supposed to be in some kind of parallel with the past I guess. We kept to the fringes of the park as we walked and didn’t loose track of the street. The inside was dark with black boughs and such.

  I said something. Maybe something like “The weather’s nice out here, isn’t it?”

  “What? Ya.” Our own feet made their own kind of music as we moved. “Do you… where are you from?”

  “Um New Jersey I guess.” I remember thinking of ().

  “No, I mean… where are you from, like heritage, ancestry.”

  I didn’t understand where she was going with this heritage thing. She looked up at me. Her lips parted for a second and closed again. And then the shadows hid her face.

  “I was thinking… well I read books about people’s past, I mean what their grandparents did. It makes me think about a connection through time.” I remember hearing a dog bark in the park to our left, coarse and violent; I looked in the direction I thought it was coming from but couldn’t see anything. She said something like ‘I’m lost here you know’ but I’m not sure.

  “I think I know what you mean.” But of course I didn’t really. She didn’t say anything else. (two stone in garden) The undercurrent was thinking something else.

  She bent down next to a tree and picked up a flower under a circle of lamplight. She handed it to me. It was yellow. I think it was a marigold but because it was dark out the bud was still closed.

  “Thanks.” I was happy. I’d never really believed in fate. (redundancy)

  #

  Later, we were walking on the streets proper again. The temperature had dropped and everything had acquired a bluish tint in the moonlight like Picasso. Except instead of Cabaret dancers there were posters of movies in foreign languages. I remember this one time I watched a French flick with Japanese subtitles so I couldn’t understand anything. I think it took place on the moon because there was one part where the characters looked out a wi
ndow and saw the Earth all blue and strange. And there were people with pigs for heads and a crooked Eiffel Tower. A crooked Eiffel Tower and pig-headed people.

  We walked past these closed coffee shops. (kissaten) I was thinking about what she said. I could only remember one time that I felt a connection to the past, when I realized John Lennon died when I was 3. I still kind of recall watching the news story on TV. I was alive at that moment. I wasn’t sure if that was the kind of thing she was talking about before.

  The city was quiet. There weren’t any noises and there was a mist so you couldn’t see very far. I think I had lost the flower already. (history) People used to think of the stars as scribes at one time. The moon glew the city and hid the scribes. Our own shuffle down the street, cobblestones echoing.

  More cafés with empty chairs alone. We sat down in front of one of the closed shops and time passed. I mean seconds passed. Time is an abstract construction; applying a verb to it doesn’t feel right. But what do I know; I watched a crumpled newspaper roll in the wind.

  I wasn’t alone because I was with her.

  “So what now?” I said. She gazed into the dark. I guess it was more of a statement than a question though. So what now.

  “It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” (.) She was still staring.

  “Kind of cold.” I was staring now too, at the cobblestones. She looked at me and put her arm around me to help keep me warm. There were a lot of them. Cobblestones I mean. There were a lot of cobblestones. “Do you have dreams?”

  There was a light above us to the right; the tint from it turned everything black except for the chairs and tables, which hummed red. The moon obscured by stone masonry. “Of course.”

  Now that I think about it, I guess her hair was a dark red, too. Her legs swung ‘toc, tic’.

  “Why do you ask?”

  For some reason the scene felt like déjà vu. I remember thinking about when it happened to me in the past. “One time I was in Pittsburgh laying out in the grass in front of Heinz Cathedral with the sun coming down and me sans sunglasses and I thought I had a dream a few nights before then about myself sitting there and got scared.”