Vurt

by Jeff Noon

  ‘She’s going to be real angry, Stephen.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s—shit!’

  The knot was all crooked. I pulled it loose again.

  ‘Having trouble? Here let me—’

  ‘I don’t want help! And stop calling me Stephen!’

  ‘It is the name I gave you, boy.’

  ‘My name is—’

  Wait…

  ‘You will damned well use it.’

  My father had taken the two ends of the tie in his big work-scarred hands.

  ‘How many times must I teach you the Windsor?’

  It wasn’t me in the mirror! My father…

  ‘Father…’

  ‘It is a man’s knot.’

  He crossed the tie, wide end over narrow, through the loop, down, around and behind, up to the right. Wide end down through the loop, crossed at right angles over the narrow, pushed through the loop one last time and finished by slipping the wide end through the knot in front. He tightened the finished Windsor, pulling it gently, until the knot was right up against my throat.

  This isn’t real!

  ‘There. Perfect. Simple. Elegant!’

  He pulled the knot tight. Tight! Pulling down on each end of the tie until my throat was closing and the breath leaving me. My hands coming up, but so weak I—

  The Haunting!

  ‘Even a fool could manage it!’

  All my air was used up. Bursts of light behind my eyes. Pain. The fierce glare in my father’s eyes.

  This is Vurt!

  ‘But not my boy, evidently.’

  Darkness, and the end of pain beckoning.

  Jerk out! Come on! Work it!

  The pain dying away as I lost the will to—

  ‘Oh Christ!’

  I was shivering amongst the trees, down by the lakeside. The leaves were rustling from the gathering wind. I couldn’t stop shaking.

  Made it.

  Made a way out of there.

  A shadow falling across the moon.

  Christ, that was bad. And no sign of Desdemona.

  Shaking, shaking…

  Breathing in gulps of air. Again. Again. My lungs aching, and my throat, and a sharp pain on my cheek from the razor’s edge.

  And then letting out the air, in a long passage.

  Something coming between the moon and the trees.

  Found a way out somehow.

  Except that you can’t jerkout of a Yellow.

  The leaves shaking as something moved amongst them.

  So what was…

  ‘I have found you, Stephen.’

  My father pushing the branches aside, the glint of light on the razor in his hand.

  I’m still in the Vurt!

  ‘I won’t have any child of mine out after ten.’

  Father stepping forward, blocking the moon’s light completely, until there was only darkness. And the blade…

  Get out of here!

  His hand around my neck—

  ‘Looking good, Scribble.’

  ‘Looking good yourself, birthday girl.’

  ‘You taking me out tonight?’

  ‘Bet on it, Des.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Platt Fields.’

  ‘Platt Fields? I was maybe expecting a meal. Then a club. I feel like dancing.’

  ‘I know. But there’s a little clump of trees there, side of the lake. It’s private and cosy, and we could…well, you know…’

  ‘Scribble! You’re disgusting!’

  ‘It’s you that makes me like this.’

  She pushed me backwards, onto the bed. Then she jumped on top of me, and started to really tickle me, just where I can’t stand it.

  ‘Des!’

  ‘I’m not going to some dingy park. I’m going dancing!’

  ‘You’ve got to.’

  ‘What do you mean, got to? Who says got to? Hey!—’

  I manage to get a grip on her body, and then kind of throw her over, but gently, until I was on top of her, and she was smiling beneath me.

  ‘We’ve got to go there, Des. Don’t ask why. I just know we’ve got to go.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘It’s important.’

  She went quiet then.

  Her bedroom was a warm glow of yellow, the last rays of the sun coming through the drawn curtains. Her eyes were too much for me, too full of life.

  I lowered myself down, until our bodies were touching all over, and my lips were on hers.

  ‘Careful, Scribb.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ll crease your best suit.’

  ‘It’s all for you, Desdemona. All for you.’

  We kissed some more.

  ‘You got me a present, Scribb?’

  ‘I tried to.’

  ‘Scribble!’

  ‘I tried to get that bag you wanted. Well, I did get it. But…’

  ‘Don’t tell me, you lost it?’

  ‘It was—’

  ‘I hate you.’

  ‘It was stolen, Des. This guy on the bus. I was bringing it back home. I was going to wrap it and everything. But this guy just snatched it away from me, ran down the stairs, jumped off just as the bus was moving from the stop. I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘You know what this means?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It means we can’t go to Platt Fields.’

  ‘I know. Why is that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Crazy, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Des.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll just stay in tonight. We could—’

  ‘That can’t happen. Father…he…’

  ‘Has he been hassling you again?’

  ‘He went for me with the razor before. I was just shaving, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And then…in my room…well, it was bad.’

  ‘This is a curious house, isn’t it, Scribb?’

  ‘It’s a bad house.’

  Then I pulled her blouse free from her belt, to reveal the hard ridges of the scars on her lovely stomach. I put my lips to them, trying to kiss them away. Nothing would work.

  ‘I’m going to kill that man, one day.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s possible, Scribble. He’s not real.’

  I moved back up her body, to look at her eyes again, trying to work out what she meant. I don’t think she knew. And neither did I. Just that it was true.

  ‘Thanks for the card, Des.’

  ‘What card?’

  ‘My birthday card.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s my birthday, Scribb. Not yours.’

  ‘No. I mean a few days ago. My twenty-first birthday.’

  ‘Scribble, you’re only eighteen!’

  That stopped me. ‘Oh god.’

  ‘I know. I can remember sending it as well. What’s happening, Scribble?’

  ‘I got you a present anyway, Des.’

  ‘Show me!’

  I put my hand into my jacket pocket, feeling something fluttering there, not knowing what it was until I pulled it out. And then still not knowing.

  ‘Oh Scribb! It’s a feather!’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Look at the colours in it. All those yellows! They’re just the same colour as the light in this house.’

  ‘Just the same. It’s curious.’

  ‘I keep getting this feeling, Scribble. Like I’m being haunted, or something. I can’t work it out. Like there’s another world out there, and I just can’t get to it.’

  ‘I’m getting the same. Can’t explain it.’

  ‘What does the feather do?’

  ‘I think I’m meant to tickle you with it.’

  ‘That’s sounds right.’

  She pulled up her blouse some more, offering me her stomach and breasts. I stroked the yellow feather gently over her body. Starting at the dragon tattoo, and then down, and across, and then up…

  ‘Oh god. That feels good. It’s making me see pictures.’ />
  ‘What do you see?’

  ‘Me and you walking away from this house. Growing old together. Keep stroking. That’s it. That’s good. We’re living in a little house, miles from here. Miles away from father. Keep doing it, higher. That’s it. On my neck. Feels lovely. Miles away from the pain. On my lips, please, Scribble. Yes! Miles away from the knife. In my mouth now. In my mouth!’

  I had the feather poised on my sister’s lips, and my whole being was telling me to push further, to let her take it in deep, and I didn’t even know why. I just had to do it to her. Gently pushing…

  ‘Scribble!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your eyes!’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Yellow! They’re turning yellow!’

  Oh shit!

  ‘Take that feather away, Stephen.’

  ‘Father…’

  ‘It is a young boy’s game.’

  I was lying on top of my father, pushing a feather into his mouth. His hands were coming up to hug me. I tried to push the feather in, don’t know why, just had to, but his bite clamped down hard on the flights, so that the feather was lodged solid between his teeth. Then his hands came down on my back and I felt the blade going in.

  Felt like my back was fire. He stabbed again.

  Christ!

  The pain was unbearable. I was trying my best to pull away, but his strength was too much for me. I felt the razor tearing its way out of the small of my back, ready for another strike.

  ‘Father, please…’

  Wait…

  ‘It is all that you deserve, wretched boy!’

  But as he spoke the feather was loose in his mouth.

  This isn’t real!

  He cursed me then. Called me a sister fucker.

  This is Vurt! Jerk out!

  The razor biting into me.

  No! No, don’t jerk out! I was getting the story. There is no jerkout. It just starts again. This is Curious Yellow. And that isn’t my father under me. It’s my sister. It’s Desdemona! This is just a Vurt father. He’s living inside Desdemona. There is no going back. No jerking out. You can only go forward.

  The razor was cutting into my skin again.

  The pain was terrible. Blood on my father’s face. Must have been my blood.

  Never mind that.

  A sudden glimpse of Desdemona’s eyes looking back at me from my father’s face and her voice telling me to—

  Push the feather in!

  It took everything I had left, fighting against all the rage and madness, until I had the feather wedged up against the top of his mouth. He bit down hard again but I was too far gone by then, too full up of despair.

  Shove it!

  Deep to my father’s throat. Which was Desdemona’s throat. Where it belongs. Immediately his body starts to fall away. The razor slips free of my skin. I pull the Curious out of his mouth and take it into mine.

  Please, God, I’m right on this one.

  Where it belongs.

  My father screaming somewhere…

  And Desdemona’s voice coming through clear…

  But Scribble, we’re already in Curious Yellow. How can we—

  looking good Stephen cheers looking good Stephen cheers looking good Stephen cheers cheers my face bathed in yellow light which is bathed in yellow light which is

  !!!!!WARNING!!!!!

  which is a man’s blade the blade swinging for me in the mirror of the mirror of the mirror curiouser and curiouser the blade swinging a thousand times as it

  Layers upon layers…

  !!!!!WARNING!!!!!

  each the reflection of the other as it

  What was that voice?

  one thousand times through the yellow air which is yellow upon yellow as it as it looking good stephen

  !!!!!WARNING. YOU ARE NOW IN METAVURT!!!!!

  cheers as it as it curiouser and curiouser as the blade swinging for desdemona

  What is happening?!

  one thousand knives reflected each one sharp as sharp as the mirror as they as they cut into my sister who was

  WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?

  who was clinging to me who was clinging to me covered in blood

  That voice. I know that voice. It is the voice of…

  her own age at last nineteen years old and in my arms as I saw the thousands cuts being made each cut being made twice the real and the image

  YOU ARE SERIOUSLY FUCKING UP MY SYSTEMS!

  desdemona sister

  That voice! It was the voice of…

  falling away from me in blood as I clung on tight to her one thousand times as I my father reflected in the mirror reflected in the mirror reflected in the mirror reflected as I as I saw the blades coming in again sister

  PLEASE EXPLAIN YOURSELF!

  It was the voice of Sniffing General.

  OH IT’S YOU. I MIGHT HAVE KNOWN.

  Sniffing General…can you…

  I HOPE YOU REALISE…

  blood all over

  What’s happening, General? Can you help me?

  …THE TROUBLE YOU’RE CAUSING ME.

  Tell me!

  YOU’VE GONE META. NOT JUST ANY OLD META.

  sister screaming from the cuts

  MIRROR META. YOU’RE DOING CURIOUS…

  curiouser and curiouser

  …INSIDE OF CURIOUS. NOBODY DOES THAT! NOBODY!

  Get me out. Get us both out!

  THERE IS NO WAY. YOU’RE CAUGHT IN A LOOP.

  our father digging his one thousand ways through desdemona as he cutting as he smiling

  You’ve got to, General!

  IT CAN’T BE DONE…I DON’T KNOW HOW…NO ONE’S EVER…

  Blow that Choke out of your nose and do it!

  IT JUST CAN’T BE DONE! HOBART…SHE’LL…

  sister falling apart

  It just gets worse, General.

  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

  taking the silver feather reflected one thousand times out of my pocket

  DON’T DO THAT!

  sister reaching out for me as she as she reached out for me bleeding and the bleeding was bleeding the wounds were wounded

  You think I have a choice, General?

  PLEASE!

  I pushed the silver sniffing general feather in as I as I pushed the silver feather in over the top of the curious yellow

  THAT’S ME YOU’RE PUSHING IN!

  I need a door, General…

  two feathers at once who’s ever done that before?

  NOBODY DOES THAT…SCRIBBLE! SCRIBBLE! IT HURTS!

  Tough shit.

  the silver coming on the yellow which was yellow in the yellow silver in the yellow in the yellow the thousand mirrors cracking…as I…

  father swinging the razor at my sister…

  as I…

  waiting for the menu to scroll…

  1. EDIT

  2. CLONE

  3. HELP…

  menu stops…

  as I stopped my father’s hand…

  WON’T LET YOU.

  Shit! What number was the door? What number!

  YOU’RE MAKING A FOOL OF ME, SCRIBBLE. I WONT ALLOW IT.

  that’s enough, father…

  as I…

  What number was the door? What number?!

  as I took the razor from his hand and then I…

  HOBART WILL PUNISH ME!

  Four for a door. Four for a door. That’s it.

  as I pushed the razor into my…

  NO!!!!!

  as I pushed the razor into my father’s eye…

  coming back to me now the feelings as I as I thought about the number four my father screaming with his hands coming up to his eyes as I got the menu up to my eyes…

  1. BLUE

  2. BLACK

  3. I’M NOT GIVING YOU THE MENU.

  That’s okay, Sniffer. I don’t need it any more.

  as I thought about the number five

  Five for alive.

  a door opening up as th
e mirror broke and our father was putting red hands up to his eyes and the door opened in his eyes and I could see the trees of platt fields through the holes in his eyes

  ‘Sniffing General…’

  A new voice.

  HOBART…MISS…I AM SORRY.

  ‘What is the problem?’

  I was pushing des towards the door in father’s eyes

  NOTHING I CAN’T HANDLE, MISS HOBART.

  ‘I am trying to stay asleep, General. Please explain.’

  desdemona won’t go through she’s clinging to me dragging me along as well

  WE’VE GOT A MIRROR META IN CURIOUS YELLOW, WITH AN ILLEGAL LIFE-DOOR BREACH PLUS AN UNAUTHORIZED SWAPBACK ATTEMPT WITHOUT ADEQUATE EXCHANGE MATERIAL.

  ‘Is that all.’

  MISS HOBART…

  Please, Scribble…come with me.

  my sister talking to me…

  It can’t happen, Des. It just can’t

  ‘Don’t make me angry, general.’

  MISS HOBART…PLEASE…

  so I’m thinking about the number one whilst they argue number one for a blue world seeing the thousands of blue names scroll down thinking about P for pleasure

  ‘Where are we, Scribble?’

  My sister and I sitting on the park bench in Pleasureville, listening to the birds singing and watching the play of dappled light on the newly cut lawn. Kids are skipping. No sign of the postman. I had two, maybe three minutes before the General dragged me away from this sweet blue world. I had my sister with me, and she looked happy at last, just like I remembered her. That was Pleasureville Blue for you.

  ‘We’re inside a Vurt, Des.’

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘What do you remember?’

  Her smile faded for a second as she searched through her memories. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all, except that the world is beautiful and that you are my brother and that we should just stay here forever. Shall we do that, Scribble?’

  ‘No.’ Her eyes went blank for a moment, filled with a blue void. ‘This isn’t the real world, Des. The real world is not beautiful, but it’s where you belong. No, don’t try to understand. Just believe what I’m saying. I’m sending you back, Des. If I can.’

  ‘You’re coming with me, Scribble?’

  ‘I don’t belong there, sister. This is my place. This is what I am.’