by Jeff Elkins
Jose sat, looking out at the water. He watched it shimmer in the city’s light. Slowly, he bent down and unzipped his backpack. Every move brought more pain. Inside the bag were two, neatly folded changes of clothes. Jose pushed them aside. Underneath them he pulled a small, brown, worn, stuffed bear. His mother had given it to him. It was the final thing he had left of her, of his normal life, of his childhood. Leaning back again, he closed his eyes, squeezed the stuff animal tight to his chest, and tried to remember her smile. Quietly he sang to himself the song she’d sung to him every night.
“Little bird, little bird, your voice so small and sweet.
Someday your wings will thunder as they beat.
Little bird, little bird, just learning how to fly.
Someday you’ll soar high in the sky.
Little bird, little bird, soft in my hand.
Someday your shadow will cover the land.”
He remembered the feel of her hand stroking his hair, of her soft goodnight kiss on his cheek, of the warmth of blankets and the safe feeling that came with her tucking them in around him. A knot formed in the base of his throat. This time he didn’t hold it back. It burned, working its way up into his nose, ending below his eyes. He exhaled, and allowed tears to flow freely. Clutching his bear, crying softly, he drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Putting on a clean shirt reopened the wounds in his armpit. Jose could feel the scabs stretching as he lifted his arms above his head. “How long will this take to heal?” he asked as he joined Chris on the hood of the car.
“Do I look like a doctor to you?” Chris said with a smile.
“Do we, like, heal faster or something?” Jose asked.
“I don’t know. Do you?” Chris asked. “Because that would be cool.”
He passed Jose a breakfast burrito from McDonald's. It was cold. Jose could tell by looking at the ends of the flour tortilla that it was at least a day old. He bit into it and felt the tortilla crunch in his teeth. The egg was sour, but still, he choked it down.
“I’m going for breakfast tomorrow,” Jose said bitterly.
Chris laughed. “Sounds fine,” he said. "As long as you don't show up with muffins."
Jose took another bite and tried to ignore the aftertaste of day old egg and hardened cheese. “Where are we going today?” he asked.
“You need a day to heal,” Chris said. “So unless we get a call from Ernie, I thought we’d take it slow, skip workouts, and head over to the east side. I’ve got something I want you to see.”
The sun broke loose over the skyline, washing Jose's face in warm light. He closed his eyes and let it bake him. "That sounds good," he said.
They walked slower than usual. The cut in his side made breathing difficult. At first, each step made Jose’s side ache, but after the first hour, the pain became mundane. He didn’t try to mimic Chris’ attentiveness. He felt like the most he could hope for today was to just keep moving.
“Do you have any other questions?” Chris said, breaking the silence.
Jose watched his feet, doing his best not to stumble. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why do you let Hyoi and Bashi live? They cross the Veil too. Seems like you're breaking the fourth commandment.”
“Sometimes they’re more like guidelines,” Chris said.
“How do I know when they’re commandments and when they’re guidelines?” Jose asked with curiosity.
“They’re guidelines when I say they’re guidelines,” Chris said with a playful nudge.
The gesture took Jose by surprise. It was the first playful thing Chris had done. “So why do they get to live?” Jose asked, not wanting to process this new development.
“Hyoi and Bashi are unique. There's a different set of rules for them,” Chris said.
“What are their rules?” Jose asked.
“Under no circumstances can Bashi be killed," Chris said.
"Why's that?" Jose asked.
"We’re all afraid of what he will come back as, but that’s a long story," Chris said. “Besides, they’re useful,” he added. “And they respect human life. I’ve never seen them hurt people, so for now, we work with them.”
“Okay,” Jose said.
“Let’s step in here,” Chris said, motioning toward a large building on the right.
Jose looked up and smiled. The site of the building plucked a string in his heart. He knew it well. It was the high school a few blocks from his old house. Seeing something familiar made him happy. For a moment, he forgot all about the shooting pain of the knife wounds.
The school had multiple wings. The largest section was the center. It was a four-story structure made of brown brick. Each floor was adorned with large, four-panel, windows. The entrance was two large sets of oak double doors. Chris grabbed the iron handle and yanked one of the doors open.
The entry way was classically decorated with white designs in the ceiling and fancy molding around the edges of the walls. In front of them was a ticket booth and doors to a large auditorium. Jose had attended field trips to see shows in the auditorium when he was in elementary school. He remembered a ballet company performing the Nutcracker three Christmas’ ago. The high school students had served all the kids hot chocolate at intermission.
Chris turned right down the large entry hall. In place of lockers, the school had installed brown curving benches filled with books and pillows. Jose considered pulling up to take a nap.
“Keep moving,” Chris said, reading his mind. “There’s something I want to show you.” He pushed up a door that led to a stairway and motioned for Jose to step through.
The steps were difficult, reigniting the pain in Jose’s side. Chris walked patiently with him as they climbed. At the landing of the fourth floor, they stopped. “Where are all the kids?” Jose asked.
“It’s Saturday,” Chris said.
Jose laughed to himself. When he attended school, before he spent his days being stabbed in the armpit by small monsters, he’d never confuse a Saturday with a school day. He looked forward to them all week.
“Just a little farther,” Chris said. Looking at the ceiling, he leaped up with his right foot, stepped on the brass railing of the stairs, using it to vault him higher, upward to the ceiling. At the apex of his jump, he grabbed a small string in the ceiling and held tight to it as he descending. The string revealed an attic door with collapsed stairs. Chris pulled the stairs down, and the two of them climbed to the roof.
The wind was strong on the roof without buildings to serve as a barrier. Jose caught the cool breeze in his mouth and held it there before exhaling. Chris continued to the far side of the building and took a seat on the ledge. Jose followed and joined him.
Houses stretched out below them. Jose knew the streets well. He’d ridden his bike through them countless times. He looked at his friend Daniel’s house. It had a large tree in the front yard and a green roof. Next to it, he looked at the Anderson’s porch. Mrs. Anderson used to offer him and the other boys lemonade in the summer. And there, next to the Anderson’s, was his old house. The new residents have given it a fresh paint job. He looked at his old bedroom window. He wished the curtains were open so he could see how they’d changed it. He wondered if it was still the light blue his mom had painted it, or if that had been changed too.
“How are you doing?” Chris asked.
To Jose’s shock, the memories didn’t make him sad. Looking at his old neighborhood was like watching a movie he’d seen a long time ago. It was familiar, but not reality. “I’m fine,” he said.
“This is where I use to sit,” Chris said, not looking at this partner. “I use to sit here and watch you.”
Jose looked at his partner with confusion. Chris didn’t return his gaze. Jose was surprised to see tears forming in Chris’ eyes. “Watch me?” Jose asked.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “Not all the time. I’d check in. Well, that's not true. At first, it was all the time. Then less. Once a month. I liked to come on Saturdays because you were
usually outside. You and the other boys, running all over the neighborhood. You look so much like your dad. The way you move. You run just like him.”
Jose's mind spun in circles. He couldn't grab hold of a thought. A thousand questions ran through his brain at once. He looked at his house, then at Chris, then at his house again. He held tight to the side of the roof for fear the dizziness coming over him would cause him to fall. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“Your mom was a good woman,” Chris said. “She was strong. I wish… I wish I could've done more.”
“Wait… I don’t…” Jose said again, trying to regain his bearings. A thousand inchoate thoughts sprinted through his mind. So many, he couldn’t grab them. They left him speechless. He felt his heart racing. “You… You knew my mom?”
“I knew your dad,” Chris said. “Before all of this. We were in the Corps together.” Chris swallowed. “He was my best friend.” A tear escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away. He just let it run its course.
Jose was overcome with a need to care for him, to ease the pain Chris was clearly feeling, but instead, he kept his hands gripping the roof. He fixed his eyes on his house. “You said… You said I look like him,” Jose asked.
“Exactly like him,” Chris said with a smile. “Just a tiny version. Your dad was huge.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Jose tried to grab hold of the swirl in his brain. He wanted to know so much but he didn’t know how to ask.
Chris sighed and said, “We called your dad Smalls. He was the best man I’ve ever met. I never had a family. When I met your dad, he took me in. We were in boot camp together. He let me come home with him for holidays – Thanksgiving, Christmas, and stuff. Whenever we had leave. That’s where I met your mom. She was so beautiful, and smart, and full of life. I loved her smile.” Chris sighed. “Your dad and I… We served overseas together. And we were at this small piece-of-shit village when he…” Chris swallowed. “We were ambushed. Everyone died.”
“Everyone but you,” Jose heard himself say. He didn’t know why he’d said the words. They’d just slipped out. He immediately regretted them.
“When I finished my tour, I came to see your mom, but she was happy. She had your uncle. She had the house. You were so small. And then all this started for me. So I decided to leave you alone. I didn’t want to bring all this to you and your mom. It wasn't safe.”
“The eighth commandment,” Jose said softly.
“Yep,” Chris said.
“But you said you didn’t pick me,” Jose said. “You said…”
“I didn’t,” Chris said. “I didn’t want you anywhere near this.”
They sat in silence for another minute. Jose didn’t know what to say. There were a million questions in his mind, but none in his mouth.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a hard-ass,” Chris said. “I just… I didn’t want this for you. I don’t know how I’d survive if anything happens to you. That’s why I’ve been pushing so hard. You’ve got to be better. You’ve got to survive. Because if you don’t… I can’t…” Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks.
Still not knowing what to say. Jose leaned in and placed his head on Chris’ shoulder. Chris put his arm around his partner. They sat together in silence there for the rest of the morning, watching the neighborhood come to life.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was still and quiet. Too quiet. Jose didn’t like it. The clouds sat in the sky like thick piles of whip cream. He could feel the silence. It was unsettling.
There was no wind in Midian. No breeze. No air movement of any kind. Jose didn’t realize how alive Reality was until he wasn’t there. Even the grass was different. It was harder, less comforting. Jose ran his hands across it. It reminded him of the wood chips on the playground where he used to go to school. He leaned back on his palms and gripped it tight. Back home blades would have torn from their roots and released into his hands, but not in Midian. If this world were to turn on its side, Jose believed he could climb this strange grass like a rock wall.
“You’re very relaxed,” Bashi said. “Most humans are jumpy in Midian. Especially their first time. They feel like they’re on fire. They can’t sit still.”
Jose shrugged. He rolled on his side and stared at the creature sitting next to him. Bashi didn’t return his gaze. “Are you a boy or a girl?” he asked.
Bashi laughed. “I’m a boy. Although, gender matters less for us since we don’t reproduce.”
“And you’re a Conculos?”
“That’s right,” Bashi said with a smile.
Jose sat up again and pulled his knees to his chest. He looked out over the valley below them. It was clouded by the ghosts of giant trees that existed in Reality, and filled with tents – thousands of tents. Moving around the camp like ants were thousands of monsters. All the races were represented. Azo’s army had decided to camp in Druid Hill Park, a large park on the west side of the city. “What’s it like?” Jose asked. “Living with other races of monsters? Is it weird?”
“I’ve never thought about it. It’s all I’ve known.”
They sat together in silence for another moment, watching the tents below them.
“What’s it like being a kid?” Bashi asked.
“Never thought about it,” Jose replied with a grin. “It’s all I’ve known.”
Bashi laughed and nudged the boy with his arm. Jose fell over into the grass. Sitting back up he said, “And I’m not a kid. I’m twelve.”
“My apologies,” Bashi said with a smile. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“How old are you?” Jose said looking at the creature’s purple, crystal eyes.
“This round? Um. Well. I think I’ve lasted almost fifteen hundred years.”
“Wow,” Jose replied, his jaw hanging open. “You’re old.”
“Yep,” Bashi replied. “I’m old.”
“So, do you remember what it’s like coming out of the black pool after you died?”
“Wet and sticky.”
“Gross,” Jose said.
“Yep.”
“And you always come back the same?”
“In some ways. You keep some stuff. Other stuff is new. Sometimes you remember everything. Sometimes you don’t. It’s different every time.”
“And you never, like, get old and die?”
“Nope,” Bashi said with a smile. “We don’t age. Death only comes in battle or some dumb accident.”
“Hmm,” said Jose. They sat in silence again, watching Azo’s army move through the tents. A group of ghost-like people ran by them. Jose marveled at them as they passed. They were colorless, looked as if they were made of smoke, and were unusually large. “Is it weird walking around all these ghosts?” Jose asked.
“They’re not really ghosts,” Bashi said, moving his hand through the leg of passersby. “They’re in Reality.”
“Yeah,” Jose said, trying to wrap his mind around the concept again.
“We haven’t always seen your world in Midian. It’s only been this way for fifteen hundred years or so. Just after the Great War. The Tinker did it somehow, merged our world and yours.”
A large ghost dog ran by, chasing the biggest Frisbee Jose had ever seen. “Why does Reality look bigger here?” Jose asked.
“Well,” Bashi said thinking. “I’m no Sinciput, but the way I understand it is Midian is actually bigger than Reality, so when you lay them on top of each other, Realty gets stretched to make them fit together. Does that make sense?”
“None of this makes sense,” Jose said, running his fingers over the stiff grass.
“Chris told me you’ve been training,” Bashi said. “You want to show me what you’ve learned.”
“Chris said I can’t. He told me not to show you anything.”
Bashi leaned back and looked at the boy in disbelief. “Why’s that?”
“He said you shouldn’t be trusted and that I might have to put you down
if you got out of line.”
Bashi laughed and faced forward again. “Did he tell you I saved his life once? Did he tell you that?”
“Yep, he told me the whole story. He said you probably only did that because you had too.”
Bashi snorted in disapproval. “I think I’m offended.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t trust anybody.”
“But you do?”
“Some people.”
“What about me? I’m not people.”
“You’re fine.”
“How do you know?”
“I touched your hand when we crossed through the Veil. You’re fine.”
“You think you can trust me because I let you touch me?”
“I, um, I get feelings about people? And, um, monsters too I guess? If I touch you, I know you.”
“You didn’t know how old I was.”
“Not like that. I don’t know things about you. I just know what you’re like. It’s like a feeling. I get a word.”
“Oh. Well. What was my word?”
“Peace,” Jose said.
Bashi laughed. “I don’t exactly have a history of making peace.”
“It’s the word I got. It’s not that you are peaceful, more like you are at peace. You’re like a big kid. A really old kid. You like to play games. You’re silly. But you’re serious too. You just hide it. And you like your life. You know who you are and you’re at peace with yourself.”
“You’re a smart kid.”
“You love your partner too, and you’ll do anything for him, but you don’t know why. Sometimes that confuses you.”
“A really smart kid. And kind of scary.”
Jose smiled. “I’m like a ninja,” he said with a giggle.
“I’ve known some ninjas.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yep. Vikings too.”
“I want to know a Viking,” Jose said, his voice dripping with innocent jealousy.
“Sorry. You’re a few centuries too late.”
“I never get to do anything fun.”
“Me neither.”
“Did they really have huge beards?”
“Yes, but the horned helmets are complete bullshit.”
