The Chaos

by Nalo Hopkinson

  The room where we were doing the sorting was full of people chattering away and separating the stuff into clean and dirty, usable and unusable. “Come with me,” I told Taf. “Bring the boxes.” This is a test, I thought.

  “Okay.” He followed me, no argument.

  I walked around the upper level. It was empty of refugees for now, but more people kept pouring into the Convention Centre. There’d probably be cots up here soon. Taf and I wandered until I found a quiet alcove where no one could see us. I turned to Taf. “Okay, you can put them down for a second.”

  He did.

  “No,” I said. “Upside down is better.”

  He didn’t bat an eyelid. He just stacked the boxes one atop the other, turning each one upside down as he went.

  I held both his hands. They were warm and solid in my grip. Big hands. I couldn’t have carried three boxes up those stairs, but he could. I sighed. I looked down at his hands in mine. They were perfect. The real Tafari had this thing called syndactyly. His two middle fingers on one hand were fused together, and all the other fingers were crooked. He’d been born that way. And he sure as hell had never been the type to just do anything I said without questioning it. “You’re not really Tafari, are you?”

  He smiled. It was Tafari’s smile, every detail, and it made my heart ache. “I dunno. Aren’t I?”

  I’d realized that he didn’t mention anybody by name unless I did so first. He showed up out of nowhere, and went away again with no warning. He didn’t argue. “Do other people see you, too?” I asked him. “Or is it just me?”

  “What other people?”

  Oh, crap. “Okay, now you’re creeping me out.”

  Tafari’s smile wavered a little. “Scotch, what’s wrong? We should get back to work.”

  “Are you a ghost?” I couldn’t make myself ask, “Are you Tafari’s ghost?”

  He frowned. “Maybe? Do you think I could be?”

  I took a deep breath. Ben had his solution to his ha’nt, and I had mine. “You need to stop coming to me.” I prayed that it would do as I said, whatever it was. “You made things easier for a little while, and I thank you for that. But you have to stop coming to me now.”

  He nodded. He took my hand with his five straight, unfused fingers, and kissed my palm. “Okay, then.” He picked my box up, turned it upside down, and put it on top of his two. I followed him as he carried them all the way back to the sorting area. I waited outside the door while he took them inside for me. When he came back out, he gave me that Taf grin and went over to the stairs. He stopped at the top and said, “Oh; and you’re welcome.”

  The noise from the convention hall below was a constant roar, so I couldn’t hear his footsteps as he went down the stairs, or even whether they made any sound at all. When I looked down the stairway a second later, there was no one there. I couldn’t have carried all three boxes. I didn’t know who or what had. All I knew was that it felt like I’d just broken up with Tafari for the second time. And even worse; now I knew that the real Tafari was missing, too.

  I put my fingertips under my blouse, touched my skin. Still there. Apparently, I hadn’t gotten rid of all my crazinesses.

  “FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS THERE/ THAT’S WHERE WE MEET . . . ,” sang the clock towers.

  I was downstairs, by the rows of lockers for the volunteers, when I saw the black shape again. It had just slipped out from under one of the cots. It was heading my way. It didn’t look exactly like a dog. I couldn’t tell how many legs it had, for one thing. Sometimes it seemed to be loping along on two, and sometimes galloping on . . . five? Eleven? Looked like it had more of a face than a snout. Not that I could be sure of that. It was maddeningly twitchy. Wouldn’t hold still for a second.

  Who did it belong to? It shouldn’t be loose like that. This was a scary situation for an animal to be in. It might get startled and bite someone.

  It ducked between two rows of lockers. I followed. Maybe it would lead me to its owner.

  It was shaded in the alley between the lockers. I couldn’t see the dog, but I did see Glory and Punum. They were hugging. I stopped right there. They hadn’t seen me yet. Glory was sitting in Punum’s chair, on her lap with her arms around Punum’s neck. They were hugging; no big deal, right? My friends and I hugged each other all the time. But as I watched, they kissed. Full-on tongue and everything. Holy. I went flushed all over from the surprise of it, from stumbling into their secret moment. I waited for Glory to pull away, to say that that wasn’t what she’d meant, something. Nope. When Punum moved her head away for a sec, Glory pulled her back into the kiss again. “Yo,” I said, “get a room.” They both started and turned to look at me. Gloria jerked out of Punum’s arms, but Punum kept her arms around her neck.

  Gloria gave me a hesitant smile. I pasted on a grin. I could do this. I could play this cool. I moved closer to them. Glory licked her lips, looked sideways at Punum, and burst into a breathless giggle. She turned to Punum. “I kissed a girl!”

  Punum preened. “Yeah, you did.”

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long!”

  “You have?” I asked. “You never told me.”

  Punum asked, her voice hesitant, “You think you might want to do that again? No, wait; not right now!” she said as Gloria lunged for her. They went into a clinch, and then they were both laughing. “I guess I have my answer,” said Punum.

  “Again and again and again! Only—” Gloria turned to me. “Scotch, please don’t tell anyone yet, okay?”

  “Sure. Not even Ben.” Mock-challenging, I said to Punum, “I thought you didn’t do jailbait?” Whoa. That came out harsher-sounding than I’d meant it to.

  Glory’s smile faded a little. Then she waved a dismissive hand. “Like that’s a problem, when Punum’s only seventeen herself.”

  Punum said, “Uh—”

  “Wait; you’re seventeen? I thought you were years and years older than me?”

  “Yeah? How old did you figure I was?”

  “I dunno, maybe twenty five or something.”

  She looked gratified. “Cool. That’s about how old I want to look.”

  “But why?”

  Gloria answered, “She wouldn’t be able to work in bars if they knew she was underage.”

  “Huh. Punum, you live on your own, right?”

  She nodded. “Couple years now. My dad really freaked when I came out. Took me forever to get out of there and get my own place. He tried to have me declared mentally incompetent!”

  “Shit.” Still, if she could live on her own, it was probably going to be a piece of cake for me. I mean, I had a job.

  Glory and Punum were beaming at each other bashfully again. I couldn’t stand it. “Glory, you can’t be gay!” I wailed. “I’ll be all alone!”

  “Oh, Scotch, I wouldn’t stop hanging out with you just because—”

  “Don’t you see? I’ll be the only normal one of the three of us!”

  Too late I heard the words that had just fallen out of my mouth. “Oh, incandescent shit.” How to describe the look on Punum’s face? Half sneer, all pity.

  Glory crossed her arms and glared at me. “The only normal one, huh? So that’s what you think of Ben? That’s what you think of me?”

  “I—”

  “I need your support right now, and that’s what you give me? You’re a piece of work, you know that? Everything is you, you, you. I’m beginning to think you did Tafari a favor by breaking up with him.”

  “But I—”

  “Go away,” she said. “Just walk away from us, right now. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Okay, fine! See if I care!”

  I stalked away from them. Who did Miss Glory think she was, talking to me that way? I scratched my itchy tummy through my shirt.

  “Oh, God, I don’t want to know myself this well.”

  “Yeah, don’t people go blind that way?”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t stand to be around all this stuff anymore; the noise, the misery,
the bad food, the yelling kids, the barking dogs, the clock towers. “Later for this,” I muttered. I stomped in the direction of the exit. I barely noticed the shadow trotting along beside me, almost behind me, in my peripheral vision.

  “You better stay away from my boyfriend, skank.”

  Anyway, I didn’t regret what I’d said to Glory. I’d told her what I really felt.

  She stamped her foot. “It’s so bloody easy for you!”

  Hey, that lady’s dog was bigger than I’d thought at first. Why were people pointing at me? And what was that growling, clanking noise? I turned my head to get a full-on look at the thing beside me.

  “Well, Miss Sojourner, I guess it sucks to be you.”

  You ever step in melted asphalt on the road on a blistering hot day? What does it feel like? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Like you’ve just gotten all the chewed-up, discarded wads of sticky, gross gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

  The thing that had been pacing beside me was no dog. It looked like a hip-high pile of half-melted asphalt. Matte black that swallowed light. Gooey-looking. Its shape wouldn’t stay still. It undulated as it stood there, on three-five-seven-eleven goopy legs that were slowly spreading their ooze along the concrete floor. Kinda smelled like asphalt, too; that horrible boiling sulfur smell. I got a brief impression of chains wrapped around it any which way. Angry yellow eyes. Its mouth was more like a maw, wetly grinding away as it growled. It was pissed. It bristled and stalked toward me, stiff-legged. Loops of its chains rattled against each other and dragged along the ground.

  “Get it away from me!” I screamed. My voice was swallowed up in the general cacophony.

  One woman near by did hear me. She squinted in the direction of the monster, then said, “Oh, what a sweet little kitty! You can’t be afraid of that tiny thing.”

  The “sweet little kitty” was big enough to swallow me whole. It growled and rushed me. I dashed toward the door, away from it. Step by step, it chivvied me out into the chaos that the streets of Toronto had become. Every time I slowed down, it threw its sticky self in my direction. It herded me along Lake Shore Boulevard. And I ran . . .

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The thing leapt at me. I screamed, “Go away!” It spat a gob of blacker-than-blackness at me. I dodged it. The gunk kept arcing through the air, and landed zot on a plant by the side of the road. The plant withered instantly. I fled, all the way to the Harbourfront Community Centre buildings.

  I yanked on one of the glass double doors. It was locked. So was the other. My breathing had become a soft, terrified whimpering. I couldn’t help it. I ran lakeward down the length of the building, looking for anything. Some shelter. The second doors were locked too. I crouched behind a squat cement garbage container, the right leg of my jeans straining against my itchy, tainted skin. I slid my cell phone out of my back pocket. I punched quick dial.

  Please, please. One ring. Two. Please answer.

  Someone picked up on the other end!

  “Sojourner?”

  “Mom!” I whispered. God, she sounded so scared. Almost as scared as I was. I scanned all around me as I talked. “Mom, you gotta—”

  “Sojourner, where are you?”

  “Down by the lake. Mom, listen! You gotta help me!”

  Her voice came back garbled, then it faded out entirely. Two beeps came from the phone before it fell silent. I was totally out of minutes.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God.” I was sobbing now. I stood. The tarry monster was bounding toward me. Its feet had picked up so much city debris that they weren’t sticking to the ground any longer. It galumphed along on tatty slippers made of discarded hot dog wrappers, used condoms, and fallen maple leaves. The clanking loops of its chains bounced from side to side as it ran, or whirled, or whatever. The sight would’ve been a riot if I hadn’t been rigid with fright. Then it was in front of me, growling. I tried to dart to one side, then the other. It blocked me both times. I backed up. It followed. Oh, God; it was herding me toward the water. Step by step I went. There was a hollow thump when my feet hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk that ran along the lakeshore for miles. A couple more feet, and I’d have nowhere to go but into the deep, dark water.

  The thing stopped. I stopped. It whined, crouched, leapt to its feet again. Gave a yowping bark. I nearly jumped out of my skin. What was it doing? It actually danced from foot to foot, like some kind of sticky, spidery-legged dog. It rushed past me to the very edge of the boardwalk, looked out over the water, and yowped again. It looked at me expectantly. I swear if it’d had a tail, it would have wagged it. It ran along the edge of the boardwalk away from me a few feet, then back. It made its weird yowping bark over the water.

  There was someone floundering in the water! “Oh, my god; you tossed someone in!” I ran to the ledge and called out, “Hold on! I’ll get help!” It was probably barely above freezing in there. Two Horseless Head Men dithered around the person. What could I do? I could swim okay, but if I jumped in, it might mean two people dead of hypothermia instead of one. The person was struggling to get their coat off. They went under. “Oh, crap.” I looked around frantically for anything I could use to pull the person out. There was lots of debris lying around; there must be something I could use! Another yip from the monster. But it seemed to be leaving me alone. Frantically, I looked around for a stick, anything I could throw out for the person to grab. There! A life preserver, on a hook on the wall! I ran over and grabbed the white Styrofoam ring. I flung it, Frisbee-like, out over the water. The yellow nylon rope to which it was attached unfurled, twisting in the air. The life preserver landed in the water, but too far away. The person was going down again. I would have to pull the life preserver back by the rope and toss it again. No time! Beside me, the tar thing whined and whimpered, but it didn’t try to attack me. “Good dog,” I said. “Stay right there.” I snapped the phone shut and shoved it into my front jeans pocket.

  The person had managed to get her head above water again. She was gasping and coughing. She turned an anguished face to me, and my blood went as cold as if I had jumped into the lake. The dunking had swept her hair away from her face. It was my aunt Maryssa! She went under again, and the Horseless Head Men plunged after her. When they surfaced, I saw that each one had grabbed a shoulder of Auntie Mryss’s sweater in its mouth. Her face was back above water. The Horseless Head Men seemed to be straining in the direction of the floating ring of the life preserver a few feet off, but they were only little. They couldn’t hold her up and tow her at the same time. But Auntie started paddling her hands, so weakly. But it was enough. It probably only took a few seconds, but it seemed like hours before she finally grabbed on to the life preserver. I pulled on the rope, and she began moving toward me. The Horseless Head Men kept their grip on her lavender sweater. As she got closer, I could see how badly she was shivering. She looked exhausted. Her face was naturally pale, but right now it was gray, drained of all color. She was looking in my direction, but I couldn’t tell if she was even seeing me. Then she closed her eyes, turned her head to the side, and laid it down on the life preserver. “Auntie, don’t let go!” I shouted. “Hold on!” I didn’t know whether she’d heard me, whether she was even still conscious, but she didn’t let go her grip on the life preserver.

  When she bumped gently against the dock, I dropped the rope and ran down the little flight of cement stairs that got you level with the water. I knelt on the bottom stair. The freezing water seeped into my jeans, but my blemish-covered legs barely felt it. I stretched my hand out. “Auntie Mryss,” I said, “can you reach my hand?”

  She rolled her head weakly up. Her hair, which she usually wore in a tight bun, had come undone. Sodden hair draped her face. “Sojourner?” she said. Her voice was hoarse and whispery. I could barely hear her.

  “Yes, it’s me! Give me your hand!” She reached a trembling arm toward me. I leaned forward as far as I dared. “Come on, Auntie. Just a little more.” Her fingertips touched mine. Then I was hold
ing her ice-cold hand, then her wrist. “Come on, Auntie,” I crooned, “nearly there.”

  I pulled her in, got her upper half lying on the stairs. From the waist down, her legs were still in the water. She was too weak to clamber up the rest of the way. I had to grab her by the waistband and pull with all my strength. She groaned the whole time, and the Horseless Head Men flew around and wittered like worried old ladies. Finally I got all of her onto the bottom step. She was sobbing, her mouth open. “My Lord is my help and my savior,” she said, over and over. “He answered my prayers. He sent you to fetch me out.” I sat on the step above her, took her into my arms, and rocked her.

  She was so cold! And trembling uncontrollably, from the core of her on out.

  “Auntie, what you doing all the way down here?” She lived north of downtown, up past Dupont Street on the west side of the city.

  The two Horseless Head Men stayed floating close above her. They made a noise, something like a pigeon cooing combined with a growling undertone of cat in heat. I rolled Auntie Mryss onto the ledge, took her into my arms. She was so wet she squelched.

  “I came down here to see the miracle.”

  “The disaster, you mean.”

  “I mean the volcano. I lost my balance and fell in.”

  “So that thing didn’t throw you in?” Hey; where was the creature, anyway?

  “Nothing threw me in. And where’s Spot?”

  Uh-oh. Aunt Mryss was a little bit . . . eccentric. Spot was her imaginary guard dog. Dad growled at her if she talked about Spot, and Mum would ask her if she’d stopped taking her medication again, but I went along with it. Spot had become something Auntie and I shared; our private game. I’d thought she kinda knew Spot wasn’t real, and she just liked giving her cousin a hard time. But now I wasn’t so sure. I said, “We need to get you warm and dry, like right now.” She sneezed. I shouldered my jacket off. “Put this on.”