Faller

by Will McIntosh

Storm swallowed, nodded agreement. She moved closer to the twins, clutched the bars.

  Faller wasn’t convinced it was that simple, given that Orchid also seemed to have a sister on a different world, but he kept his mouth shut, because he didn’t have a better explanation.

  “We’re going to get you out of there right now. This is ridiculous,” Emily said.

  “I think Stuart is due for a good kick in the nuts,” Susanna added.

  Faller grinned. Maybe they were sisters.

  They struggled for what to say to each other. Emily finally asked, “Where are you from?”

  Storm stammered, seeking an answer, finally gave up. “I’ll explain when we have more time.”

  Susanna and Emily promised to return, with a mob to string Stuart up if necessary.

  Snakebite waited until the door had closed completely, then in a low voice, asked, “So what is this other world like?”

  “Worlds. There are at least two others.” They described their worlds while Snakebite listened intently. Storm and Faller began to pepper in questions of their own, though Snakebite was clearly more at ease listening than speaking.

  “There were pigs, cows, crops in the ground when we woke,” Snakebite said when Storm asked him about Day One. “People were hungry, and there was some killing, but most people were just scared and confused. It was when things settled down that it started getting strange here.”

  “Strange how?” Storm prompted when it seemed Snakebite wasn’t going to elaborate.

  “Everyone started pretending it never happened. If you brought up those early days, people acted like they couldn’t hear you. They talk about ‘making others feel bad,’ which means talking about the early days. Now no one ever asks out loud what telephones are for, why some of us were born young and others old.”

  Storm looked at Faller. “Which explains what we’re doing in here.” Turning back to Snakebite, she asked, “Is that why you’re in here, too? For talking about the early days?”

  “Me? No,” Snakebite said. “I know better than to disturb their little fantasy world. I’m in here because I won’t apologize for cutting off Wayne’s fingers.”

  Faller conjured a gruesome image of Snakebite pinning some poor guy’s hand to a table and slicing off his fingers one by one, but the truth was less sinister. Wayne and three of his brothers had gone to Snakebite’s place because Snakebite was using more water from a community trough than the brothers were happy with. Words were exchanged, and a fight broke out. Wayne went for a scythe leaned up against the wall in Snakebite’s workshop, but grabbed it by the blade. When Snakebite kicked it out of his reach, Wayne’s fingers went with it. The City Council thought Snakebite should apologize. Snakebite disagreed.

  * * *

  WHEN THE door opened a second time, Stuart was holding a key. Behind him, Susanna and Emily bore expressions of profound self-satisfaction.

  “The City Council is assembling.” Stuart unlocked the cell, and Storm and Faller filed out.

  Snakebite put his hands on his thighs and climbed to his feet. “I guess I’m ready to come out as well.”

  “You’re ready to apologize to Wayne?”

  “I guess so.” Snakebite struggled to look sincere.

  “Come on, then.” Stuart swung the cell door wide and led them outside.

  26

  FALLER WAS famished, but he kept his mouth shut, afraid to violate any other neurotic unspoken rules of this world he didn’t know about.

  The meeting hall was a big, high-ceilinged church with stained-glass windows depicting people herding sheep, looking down at babies, kneeling before people with circles of light around their heads. Halos. There was nothing Faller couldn’t find a word for. On Faller’s world churches were mostly abandoned, the windows knocked out. The space wasn’t useful for anything and, although people had a vague idea that churches were for talking to gods, nobody knew exactly what you were supposed to say, and how to confirm they were listening.

  Stuart escorted Storm and Faller to the front row and told them to wait. He hurried off to join one of the clusters of people forming in the back, speaking in hushed tones and glancing at Faller and Storm.

  Faller was opening his mouth to tell Storm how uncomfortable the stares were making him when Orchid walked in.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Faller said.

  She was cradling a baby wrapped in a white blanket, her blue jeans free of mending or patches, rolled at the cuff to accommodate her small size. Her boots were in similar fresh-from-the-box condition. She was with a tall, white-haired, smarmy-looking man wearing wire-rimmed glasses. They were speaking to Stuart, and by the way Stuart was bending at the waist Faller could tell Orchid’s companion was someone important.

  “What? Who are you looking at?” Storm was scanning the back of the room when suddenly she inhaled sharply. “Wait a minute, that’s—”

  “Orchid. Again.” Faller squeezed past Storm into the aisle. “I’ll be right back.”

  Storm grabbed his arm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Faller shrugged. “What’s the harm? I’m sure she won’t know me. I’m curious to see how similar she is to the Orchid I know.”

  As he approached he watched for Orchid’s reaction and, while she stared at him with wide-eyed curiosity and perhaps a tinge of fear, it didn’t look as if she recognized him. She whispered something to her companion, who was still talking to Stuart. The tall man turned to look at Faller.

  His eyes, mouth, even his nostrils opened wide and he shouted a primordial, lung-emptying, “Ha,” as he stumbled backward. Orchid caught him, otherwise he might have fallen right through the open front doors.

  The room went silent. All eyes turned to the white-haired man, who was breathing heavily, trying to compose himself but still gawking at Faller like he was a giant hairy spider or something.

  The reaction left Faller stunned and confused. This man recognized him. Faller crossed the silent room and held out his hand.

  “I get the sense you know me, but I can’t seem to place you.” He said it loud enough that everyone in the room could hear.

  The man looked at Faller’s hand. His nose wrinkled as if there were a bad smell in the room. “What? No.” He took a half-step back, still not reaching to shake Faller’s hand. “Of course I don’t know you. Who are you?”

  “My name is Faller.” He grasped the man’s wrist with his left hand, drew the hand into his own, maintaining eye contact. “And you are?” The man’s palm was greased with sweat.

  “My name is Bruce. Vice deputy of the City Council.” The mention of credentials was a transparent attempt to regain the upper hand Bruce was clearly used to holding, but Faller wasn’t intimidated. Maybe it was Bruce’s reaction to him, or maybe having Storm at his side gave him confidence.

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Faller tried to read the man’s birdlike eyes. Bruce disengaged his hand and, straightening a worn but clean corduroy jacket, headed toward the dais. Orchid’s double (actually, it was triple now) followed after a final glance at Faller.

  When Faller returned to his row, the twins were seated beside Storm. Snakebite was in the row behind them. Faller’s head was spinning, trying to assimilate the perplexing details that had just been added to his understanding of the universe. There were at least three Orchids and three Storms. Had each world somehow started out comprised of the same people? If that were the case the Snakebite on his world had died early on, because if Faller had ever laid eyes on Snakebite before, he would remember. And of course he was quite certain there had been no Storm on his world.

  As he scanned the faces in the room, none besides Orchid’s was familiar, and Faller was certain he’d met every person on his world at least a handful of times. For that matter, no one on Storm’s world had looked familiar to him, save for Storm and the other Orchid. So a few people had duplicates, others not.

  People were settling into their seats, the meeting about to start. Faller had no idea how
they should navigate this. He twisted in his seat to face Snakebite.

  “Any advice on how to handle this?”

  Snakebite leaned in so his mouth was close to Faller’s ear. Storm leaned toward Faller so she could hear the exchange.

  “Lie,” Snakebite said.

  “Lie?”

  “Come up with an explanation that doesn’t make anyone feel bad. Give them half a chance and they’ll happily shove their heads back into their asses and pretend you’ve always been here.”

  Faller nodded slowly, wondering what possible explanation he could offer other than the truth.

  On the dais a black-haired man with thick eyebrows called the meeting to order by banging two small sticks together over his head. Faller closed his eyes, trying to think. He needed something.

  “My name is Carl. This here is Danny…” He went on to name the other seven men lined up in their folding chairs, then kept right on going, naming everyone in the room, maybe a hundred people, before asking Faller and Storm their names.

  “I guess what we need to know is”—Carl turned his palms up—“where have you been? Why don’t we know you?”

  Faller looked at Storm. All Faller had thought of was, we’ve been hiding from you intentionally. It wasn’t much of an explanation, and when Carl asked why they’d been hiding he wouldn’t have an answer.

  Still looking at Faller, Storm said, “We don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Carl asked.

  The answer had caught Faller off guard. How was we don’t know going to get them off the hook and out of this weird gathering?

  Storm sobbed, buried her face in her hands. Faller patted her back and made soothing sounds, wondering what the hell she was up to.

  “One moment we were just there, in that field. I don’t know who I am, where I came from. I can’t remember anything except my name.”

  A buzz went through the room. Faller glanced around, unsure whether Storm’s admission constituted spreading bad feelings. From their expressions, no one else was, either. Storm wasn’t talking about Day One, she was just alluding to it enough to make everyone uncomfortable, and hopefully sympathetic.

  The members of the City Council were conversing, the men in the chairs on the ends stretching toward the center to hear and be heard.

  Faller glanced back at Snakebite, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Apparently he had no idea how it would play.

  Suddenly Emily and Susanna were on the dais as well, leaning into the conversation. Faller heard Carl tell them to go sit down, but the sisters went right on talking. He couldn’t catch their words in the general din of conversation, but their tone was insistent.

  Bruce was also doing a lot of talking, his eyebrows pinched, his voice just as pinched. He went back and forth with Carl, the sisters, and some of the others until Carl said something sharp and clipped, and the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

  Carl clicked the sticks together until the buzz in the room died down. “There are things in the world that are unknowable.” He looked at Faller and Storm. “We can’t hold that against you. As long as you keep your speech civil”—he looked pointedly at Faller—“we don’t see any need to discuss this further.”

  These were strange people. Faller rose from his seat along with everyone else, watching Bruce, who was watching him.

  The crowd was pressed tightly together as they headed toward the exits, but a buffer of space, an invisible circle an arm’s length in diameter, surrounded Faller and the three Storms. It was unsettling to see them so close together—like there was something wrong with his vision.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Storm asked as they climbed down the church’s front steps. She grasped his wrist, led him a few paces down the street. “Susanna and Emily invited me to stay with them for now, and I told them I would.”

  Faller tried to mask the sting he felt. He’d assumed they’d stick together, because of the photo, the secret they shared. “I understand you’re angry at me—”

  “It has nothing to do with that.”

  “Okay,” Faller said, realizing he’d been silent for too long. “But let’s talk soon.”

  Storm nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  She rejoined her twins and headed off toward their home, wherever that was. Faller felt utterly lost and deflated without her.

  He checked the sky: it was late afternoon. The thought of wandering around until he found an abandoned house to sleep in, alone, under dusty sheets, depressed the hell out of him.

  He spotted Snakebite, halfway down the street. “Snakebite?”

  The big man waited while Faller caught up.

  “I don’t have anywhere to stay.” He paused, hoping Snakebite would jump in with an invitation, but Snakebite only waited. “Can I stay with you?”

  Snakebite nodded. “Come on.”

  They didn’t speak as they walked, and Faller was grateful for the silence. He needed time to think.

  He wondered about Bruce. What would cause that sort of reaction from a grown man? Faller’s presence had shocked Bruce, like he’d seen a ghost.

  What if Faller had once had a double on this world, and Bruce had seen him die? That would explain a lot, actually. Bruce wouldn’t be able to account for his reaction without referring to the early days, so he’d be forced to deny he recognized Faller.

  What if Bruce had killed Faller’s double in the early days? That would explain the bald shock on Bruce’s face. Imagine coming face-to-face with a man you killed.

  “Why are you smiling?” Snakebite asked.

  Faller hadn’t realized he was. “I’m trying to figure out why Bruce was so startled when he saw me.”

  “If something like that can make you smile, you must be a happy man.”

  Faller laughed, shook his head. “I’m just thinking crazy thoughts.”

  Turning onto the main street, they passed beneath storefront canopies, late afternoon sunshine alternating with blue shade. Despite the chipping paint, the stores were beautiful in their way, each a different color, each with a distinct face.

  “Bruce is an important man,” Snakebite said. “He got his position because he figured out things in the early days that kept people alive.”

  “Like what?”

  Snakebite shrugged. “How to pump water from the ground. How to keep the crops growing. What some of the medicines did.”

  “How did he know those things?”

  “I don’t know. He figured it out.”

  “Do you like him?” Faller asked.

  Snakebite looked at him, apparently annoyed by the question. “I don’t like anyone. I’d just as soon live in the woods on the other end of the world.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because I like to eat.”

  * * *

  SNAKEBITE LIVED above one of the stores that hung over the edge, in an apartment with small rooms and narrow hallways. He invited Faller to choose either of the spare rooms with a bed (Faller chose the one with a window overlooking the edge), then, to Faller’s surprise and delight, offered him a meal.

  The kitchen was on the ground floor, behind the store, and it, like the store, was filled with broken things. Snakebite explained that he earned his food fixing things—shoes, chairs, brushes, bicycles, anything people brought him.

  “How did you learn to fix so many things?” Faller asked as he watched Snakebite pull a rabbit off a hook in the pantry. His heart began to thud, his mouth water with anticipation.

  Snakebite seemed confused by the question. “I didn’t. I study each thing as it comes and I figure it out.” He set the rabbit on a cutting board. “It’s just common sense.”

  “I think you’ve bought into your world’s discomfort with the past more than you realize.”

  Snakebite seemed startled by the observation. “How’s that?”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I saw someone on my world pick up a flute, or darning needles, and their fingers k
new just what to do, even if they didn’t.” Faller held up a hand. “Yet my fingers won’t play a flute.”

  Clutching the rabbit in one hand, a knife in the other, Snakebite considered. “You’re saying I learned how to fix things before the first days?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Did you wake here in this house, on Day One? With all of these tools and things?”

  Snakebite made a long slice across the rabbit’s back, then set the knife down, grasped the rabbit in both hands, and peeled the skin back in both directions. “No. I was in a cemetery, behind the church where the meeting was held. I was sitting with my back against a headstone.”

  Faller nodded. Snakebite was like him, born homeless. Faller had envied the people on his world who woke on Day One in a house, with people around them, photos nearby that suggested they’d meant something to each other before Day One.

  Snakebite glanced up at him. “What do you think happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I think I will, by the time I reach the bottom.” Faller pulled out his map, smoothed it on the table so Snakebite could see it. “I drew this for myself, with my own blood, before Day One.”

  * * *

  FALLER’S BEDROOM was littered with useless Day One things, as if Snakebite had never bothered to change anything. Colorful posters covered the walls: a human skull with three men’s faces peering out the eye and nose holes; a winged woman rendered in a red so bright it seared Faller’s vision. Small plastic replicas of cars, airplanes, ships were displayed on a shelf. There was a stack of comic books on a bedside table.

  Faller grabbed the stack, sat on the edge of the bed and thumbed through them. They were mostly cartoon animals, not his favorites. On his world he’d looked at comic books now and then. Eventually he’d caught on that the pictures weren’t random like in the art gallery; they told a story if you looked at them in the right order, which was always left to right and down the page.

  Toward the bottom of the stack Faller came upon one that wasn’t cartoon animals, and as he pulled it from the stack he laughed with delight, because he recognized it. Once, on his own world, he’d looked through the exact same comic. The man on the cover was wearing a tight blue and yellow costume that reminded Faller of his own jumpsuit. Maybe it had been the inspiration for Faller’s costume, though he didn’t recall thinking about the comic while choosing his outfit. Faller paged through the comic like it was an old friend. It wasn’t surprising, really, to find the exact same comic on this world. Many of the cars were the same, even some of the people, so why not the same comic books?