Bathing the Lion

by Jonathan Carroll

  The taxi driver looked at his passenger in the mirror twice during the ride into town: the first time Kaspar’s head was down so it looked like he was seriously concentrating on whatever he was working on in his lap. The second time the driver glanced at him Kaspar was staring out the window as they passed the Schwechat oil refinery. What the driver couldn’t see both times was how quickly the passenger’s hand sped over the page, drawing. Even when Kaspar stared out the car window his hand kept moving. What it drew was as detailed, perfect, and accurate as everything else already on the page.

  He had finished by the time the taxi pulled up in front of his hotel in the Sixth District. Tearing the paper off the pad, he folded it carefully in four quarters and slipped it into a pocket.

  In his room he took it out along with the one he’d done on the plane. Opening both, he wedged them into opposite corners of a large mirror that faced the bed. After unpacking his bag he sat on an uncomfortable chair and stared at the two drawings a long time. Sometimes he would close one eye and after a while the other. He’d put up a hand to block part of a drawing. In time he dropped his head to his chest and sighed. This was not going to be easy.

  Kaspar thought about calling Vermont but wasn’t ready to talk with them yet about the dream. He looked at his watch. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, 9:30 in the morning in Vermont. He needed more time to think. If he spoke to Dean or any of the others right now he might say something he’d later regret, and that was dangerous. He knew as little as they did about why they’d shared the dream and more important, why they all knew it.

  The three blond women who’d visited Kaspar Benn in Vermont months before were back in town. They sat together now in the same restaurant where he had breakfast every morning. They were all eating the corn chowder recommended by the waitress.

  “So anyway, thanks to Kaspar, at least the five of them finally shared a dream.”

  “Here’s to Kaspar, poor guy,” said the blonde in the Russian fur hat. All three women raised water glasses in a toast to their former colleague. “But will someone please tell me why they sent Crebold to Vienna instead of us? Those two guys have hated each other since forever. Crebold made an ass of himself in what, forty-five minutes?”

  Her colleagues exchanged glances but said nothing. Fur Hat looked from one woman to the other and scowled. “What? Do you know why Crebold was sent?”

  Another knowing look passed back and forth between the two others.

  “Stop it and just answer my question: why did they send Crebold?”

  One woman took a deep breath and said, “Nobody told us specifically, but it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

  Indignant, Fur Hat raised her chin slowly. “No, not to me. You’re both making me feel stupid, which is not very nice, so would you please explain?”

  The third blonde said, “It was a test: they wanted to know how Kaspar would react to seeing Crebold after all this time. And then if he’d recognize Grassmugg. He recognized both of them right away, just like he recognized us. Humans usually have terrible memories. They didn’t know what would happen with Kaspar.”

  “He remembered everything,” the blonde sitting next to Fur Hat added.

  “No, not everything; he doesn’t know why the five of them shared the dream, so he’s still human in one respect.”

  “True, and that’s great; he’s reached the perfect mix of the two. It’s just what they wanted.”

  “This soup is good.”

  “It’s very good—for human food.”

  Secretly all three women had specific things they liked a lot about life on Earth, even though they’d only been there a short time. They didn’t tell each other though because none of them wanted to appear unprofessional. Whenever they came it was to do a job, not indulge (as individually they had been) in competitive ballroom dancing, the Silbo Gomero click language, or herpetology.

  Fur Hat stood up and said she had to urinate—another thing she enjoyed very much about being human. The waitress directed her to the toilet. It was a while before she returned because she spent an excessive amount of time peeing and then reapplying her makeup in the restroom mirror. She loved watching makeup commercials on television. She was by far the vainest of the three blondes. She craved attention and wasn’t particular about who gave it to her. Her name was Jezik.

  When she returned to the restaurant, her table was empty. She went stock-still seeing this, not believing it was true. These three women never separated without telling each other where they were going. They had worked together for centuries and inseparable was just the way they did things. They were rarely apart at all because they’d found over the years constant close proximity helped them function better and solve problems more quickly.

  The waitress passed. Jezik asked her where the other two women had gone. The room was crowded and the waitress was busy trying to juggle many orders at once. She looked at the empty table and thought a moment. “Were you with other people? I don’t remember. I didn’t see them go, to tell you the truth. Sorry. Should I give you the check?”

  Troubled, Jezik nodded and waited while the woman wrote it out. What was happening? Where were the others?

  The blondes had been ordered back to Earth as soon as the five human beings shared the dream. Now that it had happened, they were supposed to help Josephine with the gathering when the right moment came.

  Some of the dream was true to life, some not. Certain sections were understandable only to the separate individuals. However, the most important part of this shared dream had to do with their past lives as mechanics. All of the people should have recognized those parts instantly.

  But it didn’t happen. Despite being right there in front of their faces for all five to see, none of the previously very good mechanics noticed or responded to the dream’s main message.

  At about the same time, something took place in the Fornax Dwarf galaxy. A mechanic doing a task there too difficult to explain suddenly disappeared. Here one moment, gone the next. It was unheard of. Mechanics never just disappeared. Mechanics didn’t disappear at all. It was like electrons disappearing from inside an atom. Equally astonishing was that this sudden disappearance wasn’t seen by those around her. The mechanic vanished while performing a job in the middle of a large crowd but no one saw it happen.

  Later in Vermont two blond mechanics sipped savory soup while waiting for their partner to return from the toilet. And in a blink they were both gone. Not one person in the restaurant noticed.

  Plans were going wrong everywhere.

  After paying the bill, Jezik walked outside and stood on the snow-covered sidewalk looking around, hoping to see her peers—but they were not there. Next something remarkable happened: for the first time in her very long life, the mechanic felt fear. It was so alien, peculiar, and yet all-encompassing that when it hit, all she could do was stand still and stiff, feeling the force of it grow larger and larger within her. She began to tremble, knowing soon she would be all fear; there would be no more room inside her for anything else.

  It was the most powerful sensation Jezik had ever experienced.

  And then she too disappeared.

  Chaos had arrived in full force.

  D Train’s greatest and most beloved friend in the world was a yellow shar-pei/Labrador retriever mix named Kos, who lived two houses down the street. His owners found him in an animal shelter on the Greek island of Kos while vacationing there. The dogs met the day Kaspar moved to town because Kos was allowed to wander free and he came by to check out the new neighbor. It was big love at first sight and the two became inseparable. This was very convenient because it meant the owners could leave the dogs with each other whenever they went out of town. Except this time all of the owners had to be gone for the week. But Dean Corbin stepped in and volunteered to take care of the dogs at his house. Vanessa loved animals and particularly these two goofy galoots. They were her biggest fans. Whenever the three of them were together, D Train and Kos followed Vanessa around l
ike she was a saint and a movie star combined and they were her fanboy acolytes.

  She was addressing them now when Dean entered the kitchen on the day after the dream. Both dogs stared intently at her as if they understood and hung on to every word she said. “I know a lot of Debbys. It just dawned on me.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “The dogs; I just realized I know a lot of women named Debby; not Deborah—Debby. Isn’t that odd? How many Debbys do you know?”

  Dean ignored her question. “Vanessa, what are you doing? Why are you here? We’re all in the other room trying to figure out what to do about this dream.”

  “I know, Dean, but we’ve been trying to figure it out for the past three hours and I got hungry. So I’m cooking something for all of us because I assume the others are hungry too.”

  He sat down on a chair at the table in the middle of the room. “It’s good you’re in here alone anyway because we obviously have to talk.”

  Surprised, she looked at her husband. “We do? Talk about what?”

  “About what? About the dream, Vanessa. About you having an affair with Kaspar. About the fact we’ve been at each other’s throats an awful lot the last few months and things were said in the dream we actually did say. I’m wondering now how many other things in there were true.”

  “Oh come on, Dean. Do you really think I’m having an affair with your partner and best friend?”

  “Are you?”

  She turned to him and made an exasperated face. “Do you own a sled? A seven-hundred-dollar sled?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you did in the dream. So, you don’t have a sled and I don’t have a lover.”

  He waggled a finger at her. “No, no—it’s not so simple, Vanessa.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you lie about big things. We both know it and this is a big thing. We have been fighting like dogs and cats recently. Sometimes I get the feeling … I don’t know … maybe we are in real trouble and neither of us is brave enough to admit it.”

  She turned back to the stove and continued preparing the food. “I’m making saltimbocca. Do you know what the word means in Italian? ‘Jumps into the mouth.’ This recipe is so good that when it’s ready, it jumps into your mouth all by itself.”

  Frustrated, Dean shook his head. “Relevance please?”

  Every time one of the Corbins spoke, the dogs’ eyes moved back and forth between them, as if they were watching a tennis match.

  “Husband, there are very few things in my life so good they jump into my mouth by themselves. I swear to God you are one of them. Yes, we have been fighting a lot lately and sometimes it’s been mean and ugly. But so what, Dean? Couples who’ve been together as long as we have fight, and yes, it does bring out the worst in both of us sometimes. Mea culpa and you’re a culpa. Does it mean I want to divorce you? No. Do I secretly dream about walking out or throwing coffee at you? No.

  “I lie about things sometimes, I do, but do you really believe I’d risk our relationship for a few good bonks?”

  “Yes, Vanessa, I do. You can be very selfish when it comes to things you want and you don’t give a damn for other people’s feelings if you want it badly enough. You and I have fought way more in the last few months than we ever did in the past. Times have been rough between us and you know it. Sometimes I feel we really don’t like each other.” Dean’s voice was calm and even; there was no hurt or accusation in it. He was simply stating facts.

  “Dean, Vanessa—come in here! You’ve got to see this.”

  Jane was calling, but they’d never heard her voice sound so loud and shrill. The Corbins often joked Jane Claudius was Queen Poise, stealth itself, the cool ninja. Everything she did—the way she spoke, her languid yet precise gestures, how she moved—most everything about her was the embodiment of cool. But right this minute she sounded like her hair was on fire.

  The couple hurried out of the kitchen followed closely by the dogs. In his rush, Dean let the kitchen door swing back hard. It hit D Train smack on the head. Unaffected, the big gray pit bull just kept moving, followed by his pal Kos.

  The living room was the largest room in the Corbins’ house. When they first moved in, Dean measured it by striding across. On reaching the other side he announced triumphantly, “This room is big; it took twenty regular steps to cross it!”

  Hovering now in the middle of the big room was a blue-gray cloud about three feet wide by four feet high. It was not low like ground fog or bumping against the ceiling like a regular cloud in the sky. It hung halfway between floor and ceiling at eye level.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Where did that come from?”

  Jane and Bill Edmonds stood on opposite sides of the living room. Both had their arms crossed over their chests in exactly the same manner and looked like mirror images of each other.

  Vanessa said, “It’s an Aurora Cobb.”

  “Who is? What do you mean?”

  “The cloud—it’s called an Aurora Cobb.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “It’s not a who—it’s a what. An Aurora Cobb is a thing and I know for sure it’s bad.”

  Dean looked at his wife as if she were insane.

  Seeing his expression she said in an irritated voice, “You asked what it is and I’m telling you: that cloud is an Aurora Cobb and it’s a dangerous thing. Maybe it’s not bad but I know for sure it’s dangerous. Finito.” Without looking at anyone, Vanessa crossed her arms too.

  While listening to the Corbins argue, Bill Edmonds realized he’d heard the weird name before—Aurora Cobb. The three-syllable prettiness of “Aurora” combined with the contrasting ugliness of “Cobb” for a last name was one you’d remember. Had he seen it written somewhere? Seen it or heard it? He couldn’t remember, but when Vanessa said the name, it was familiar to him.

  Tail wagging, Kos walked past Dean and Vanessa over to the cloud in the center of the room. All four people stiffened and felt the same impulse to lunge forward and stop the yellow dog from going any farther because of what Vanessa had said. At the same time, they were curious to see what would happen if the animal made contact with the blue thing.

  For a moment Edmonds thought as soon as the dog touched the cloud, out of it would boom a stentorian voice saying something like, “I am the great and powerful Oz!”

  Instead, Kos got right up close and stopped. Tail still wagging, he looked straight at the cloud but slowly tipped his head to one side in puzzlement. Then he turned it to the other side, the classic canine sign of “I’m confused.” After more head turning back and forth, Kos raised his head as far back as it would go and let fly the longest, saddest howl any of them had ever heard from a dog. It was so distressing D Train and the humans knew the wail had to have come from the deepest reaches of pain in the animal. The mournful bay was uncanny. It went on and on although Kos did not move. Jane thought of the old phrase “to keen,” as in a prolonged cry of abject grief. The dog was keening for something—there was no doubt about it.

  The only one to move was D Train. He went to Kos and nervously licked his face over and over. It did no good; the yellow dog kept howling. Growing more frantic, D Train moved all around his friend, kissing him, bumping him with his head, trying to stop the other from crying. When he was as close to the cloud as Kos, he looked at it and did exactly the same thing: put his head back and began howling too.

  “Jesus Christ. What’s going on?”

  Above this din, someone’s phone began to ring. Dean reached into a pocket and took his out. Looking at the screen to check who was calling, his eyes widened when he saw it was his partner.

  “Kaspar?”

  “Dean, is a cloud there now? Wherever you are, do you see a cloud nearby, a big one? It’s probably at ground level. Someplace it wouldn’t normally be.”

  “Yes! One’s right in the middle of our living room. How did you know?”

  “Everyone there has to reach into it. Go up and reach ri
ght in. Nothing will happen—nothing bad. That’s all you need to do. Grab hold of whatever your hand touches first inside the cloud and bring it out. Don’t be afraid but make sure everyone does this. I’ll explain more after you’re finished.”

  Dean told the others.

  “How does he know there’s a cloud here?”

  “I don’t know but he said there’s no time to waste. Just reach in and bring out whatever you touch first.”

  Edmonds and Jane said nothing but moved toward it.

  Vanessa stayed where she was and shook her head. “I’m not getting near the thing; it’s bad. I don’t know anything else, but I know it’s dangerous and I’m not doing it.”

  Dean told Kaspar. After listening to the other’s response he held the phone out to his wife. “He says he wants to talk to you.”

  She took it hesitantly, as if even her husband’s telephone might bite. She lifted it cautiously to her ear.

  “Vanessa, the cloud’s about three feet high, right?”

  She nodded but kept quiet.

  “Listen, it’s not what you think it is. Vanessa, do you hear me? You think it’s an Aurora Cobb, but it isn’t. I swear to you. I’d be scared too if it was one of those, but it’s not. You have to trust me.”

  “How do you know all this, Kaspar? How do you know its name? How did you know there’s a cloud in here?”

  “Because I’m looking at exactly the same kind of cloud here in my hotel room now and I recognize it.”

  “You have one there too?” She looked at the others to make sure they’d heard what she’d said.

  “Yes. It’s the same as yours. I’m sure of it.”

  “There’s a cloud exactly like this in his hotel room,” Vanessa announced before turning her attention back to Kaspar. “But why are they here? What are they?”

  Kaspar spoke slowly and precisely. “They hold information and tools. They’ve brought tools we need now. But you have to get them yourself; each one of you has to reach inside the cloud to get what’s specifically meant for you. There can be no exceptions because we’re going to need anything it gives us—anything, do you understand? They’re like separate pieces of a puzzle that fit together. If we don’t have all the pieces, we won’t be able to work out what to do. Please tell everyone they must do it and then I’ll explain what comes next. Trust me on this, Vanessa.”