The Everlasting Story of Nory

by Nicholson Baker

  ‘Ah, the meat was translucent,’ said Nory. ‘Transparent is when you can see clearly through it, but translucent is when you can only see the glow of light but nothing in particular.’ Joe nodded. It was amazing how much English he knew. You couldn’t even tell he had ever not known English. Joe knew a huge amount more English than Nory knew Chinese, and she’d been studying it for four years. But they both had the same trouble with the multiplication table. Nory’s parents gave their little red car to Ruth when they moved to England, and Ruth wrote a letter telling them that the car was running very well except for the fact that it needed a new engine.

  28. Problems with Rabbits

  So at night you could read Garfield or think about something happy-making, like a plan of having a fake-food museum, and arranging the fake loaves of bread on tiny plates, in order to try to be sure not to have a bad dream. But still they sometimes happened, and there was nothing you could do. Clang! Bad image. Fright. Run, wake up, lie in bed, panting. Nory’s latest bad dream came after they went for a walk one day and saw hundreds of rabbits poking their heads out of holes. How could you get a bad dream out of something nice like that? And also, why would you want to? It had to do with the place that was just grass now, near the Cathedral, that said ‘Monk’s Burial Ground’ on the map. So the monks were probably still under there even though their gravestones were totally and completely gone. In the dream she was a monk at first, who went out every day to feed the rabbits, wearing her hood. She fed them celery from a big white barrel. They were quite happy. But then a disease hit the rabbit families, a bilbonic plague with sores around their eyes. They started dying, even though Nory tried to care for them. She found the antidote, some yellow flowers in the forest, but then she died and was buried as a monk, in the monk’s cemetery, under the grass. The rabbits got better and grew back after some time and they started digging tunnels. Nory was a rabbit in this part of the dream, nibbling her way through the ground. All of a sudden she came to a different kind of thing she nibbled through. What is this white crumbly stuff? Ugh! Bone is what it was. The earth trickled away and she was in a humongous underground tomb, where she saw that she’d just nibbled straight through the chest bones of a dead body that turned out to be the corpse of the monk. They had to cover over the corpse, because it was shrunken and awful to the eye. Plus it was starting to shiver or tremble. Then Nory was flying overhead in an airplane, but the airplane ran out of gas, and she couldn’t find northeast. It went into a spiral, and she jumped out in a parachute and fell and was knocked out. The rabbits saw the parachute spread itself out on the ground and thought, ‘Aha! Perfect material for covering the corpse of the dead monk!’ So they took hold of the parachute in their teeth and started pulling it down, down, which of course dragged Nory down, too, into the hole, since all the parachute strings were still harnessed to her, and she woke up underground, with rabbits all bustled around her and with something lumpy and unnerving next to her hidden under her parachute. She pulled the parachute away and there was a dead shrivelly face whose eyes and mouth immediately opened, all together, and a tongue popped out that was totally black. That was where she woke up in real life.

  Now that was not a particularly good spot to be in when you wake up from a dream and Nory was not in the least bit happy. She got up, tottled to the bathroom, which was also not a perfect experience because the lightbulb that was usually on over the mirror had burned out, so the only light was from the streetlight, and then she went into her mother and father’s room and said: ‘I had a frightening dream.’ Her mother reached her hand out and squeezed her arm and hand and said in her murmury sleepy voice, ‘I’m so sorry, my baby girl, try not to think about it, everything is all right, goodnight, my baby, love you.’ She made kissing sounds with her lips.

  ‘Goodnight, love you,’ said Nory, and she stumbled back to her room, but she still had the fright living in her chest and when she saw the covers of her bed she thought, ‘No, I definitely can’t get back in there by myself,’ and she turned around and went back to her parents’ room and said: ‘Can I sleep in your bed? I’m still scared.’ But her parents almost never let her sleep in their bed, although they used to let Littleguy sleep in their bed until he was over two, which wasn’t totally fair. Sometimes they let Nory come in in the morning and snuggle in, however. ‘Tuck in, tuck in,’ her mother would say then, lifting a corner of blanket, and that made her feel so happy.

  Her father got up and said, ‘I’ll tuck you in.’ He tucked her in her bed and stroked her head and said, ‘Nothing is bad, everything’s okay, pick something to think about with bright sunlight in it, Splash Mountain or having tea at the museum with the fan room or looking out from Oxburgh Hall over the fields. Or playing in the sprinkler with Debbie.’

  ‘But I’m still quite scared,’ Nory said. ‘Can I read?’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ said her father. ‘If you absolutely have to read to get your mind going in a different direction, go ahead and read. Goodnight, sweetie pie.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ said Nory. She clicked her light on and read a tiny amount of a book she was reading for the Readathon, which was a competition at the Junior School that gave money to leukemia depending on how many books you read. She was reading a book she liked about a hen who went on different vehicles, and with each vehicle she went on there was some disaster, and then the disaster was solved. For instance, the hen got stuck in a new road of tar and was almost rolled over by one of machines that press it flat. And whenever a person rescued her, the hen politely laid an egg for them, to say thank you. One time she laid an egg in someone’s crash helmet. The book was called The Hen Who Wouldn’t Give Up.

  Nory was so frazzledly tired that she didn’t want to read, even about this friendly hen, but she had to read, because she had to stay awake, since the thing was that if you wake up in the middle of an awful dream that is quite powerful and you go back to sleep too soon, the dream will heal over the cut you made in it and will finish itself. If you are very, very, very, very, very capable, and very determined, you’ll be able to stay awake, just twelve, thirteen more minutes, and the bad dream will melt away, and you will have somewhat of a good dream instead, because the brain forgets and says, ‘Hmm, that file is taking forever to finish, let’s go on to the next file, ah, yes, fake food, very interesting, let’s think about fake food.’

  Nory struggled, but finally she couldn’t read for one more second—couldn’t read, and couldn’t go to sleep. So what she decided to herself was: ‘I won’t read, and I won’t go to sleep, I’ll just think, because in reading you think and in dreaming you think, so that’s exactly what I’ll do—I’ll think. And if the scary things come into my thoughts, fine, I’ll change them.’ What a bad dream does is turn something nice in your life, a simple plain event, like seeing some rabbits (including one dead one that was lying on the grass), or seeing a map of the Cathedral, into something dreadful. So all you have to do in going against the bad dream is turn it back into something nice again, since that’s what it began from anyway. So she started up with her thinking, and of course, presto, the dead person from the dream came into her mind, but she said to herself, ‘Stay calm, stay seated, let’s figure this out.’

  She went back into the dream a little bit and looked around. Ah, yes, she saw her mistake. It turned out that the dead monk was not really dead—it was just sleeping deeply, wearing a frightening mask. Really the monk was a girl, a princess of some kind, with skin as white as cream and lips as bright as boysenberries and long flowing golden hair, and she had only worn the frightening mask and the awful raggedy rotten clothes so that everyone would be scared away while she slept—everyone, that is, except for Nory who was brave enough to come and help her take off her mask. Nory turned the mask over and saw that it was molded plastic. The black tongue was made of paper mâché and had a little spring that made it pop out. The princess had waited there all those centuries until Nory came down, so that together they could help sick animals. �
�I’m sorry for frightening you, my child,’ the princess said. ‘It was the only way.’ Out of the rabbits’ tunnel they climbed together, and over the next few months Nory learned many things about caring for animals from the princess. There was a dog with a broken leg, but they wrapped its leg in a special white cloth, and the next morning it was completely healed. There are three kinds of broken bones—simple, compound, and green stick. The princess knew all about them, because she was an expert in first aid. A green-stick fracture is when it bends like a flexible stick and makes a smuggled noise but doesn’t break apart. A simple break is when it breaks in two, so that you can see two ends of bone if you look on an X-ray. A compound fracture is when some of the bone tears out of the skin. Compound is really bad, and grotesque to look at even for a doctor, probably. Jason from Nory’s old school had gotten a simple fracture from jumping off one of the climbing structures. Flying squirels jump from the climbing structures, but Raccoon is more careful.

  Somewhere along the way of these ideas, luckily, Nory’s thinking turned into good-dreaming.

  29. Why Not Make a Quilt?

  After that busy brainwash of a night you might think Nory would wake up terribly tired and alarmed, but no. Her eyes came easily open and she immediately wanted to work on a project in the Art Room—something like make a popup book of an airplane, which would have the little tables you could open and close, or make a teacup out of clay with the steam twirling up in spirals of rolled clay—since Littleguy squushed the last teacup she made—or tell a long story to her dolls while she changed their outfits, or draw a comic strip called ‘The Two Bacteria’ about the many adventures of two bacteria, French and Germ. She got the idea for the comic from a book about teeth which had a picture of some bacteria standing on a tooth. One of them says, ‘Hey, hey, this looks like a perfect spot to dig for dentin.’

  She lay under the covers moving her fingers and thinking about the things she could do that day, drawings, inventions, projects. She could make a booklet for Littleguy full of puzzles using things he liked, for instance a maze that would say: ‘See if you can drive Solomon the Steam Shovel back through the mud to the construction site.’ With her cousin Irene in Burlington, Vermont, she was working on a book of projects for kids. One of the projects Nory had already written down was: ‘Make a Tree. Make a tree, every time you do something good hang a card on a branch saying what you did. It may make you happier.’ Nory had never made a tree like that and hung cards on it, but it seemed like a good sort of a project. Another project was to make a ruler.

  Make a Ruler:

  What you will need:

  cardboard

  a Ruler

  A pen & pencil

  A Pair of scissors (For thin cardbord)

  for thick cardboard: knife (ASK FOR HELP)

  A clear space

  A piece of paper & Tape

  An Adult who is willing to help you out.

  1. Take a thin or thick piece of cardboard and cut it

  so it is about 4.7 in. Long and about 1.1 in. wide

  2. Trace your cardboard

  out on the pice of paper with a pencil & cut

  along the side in in. and/or cm. and/or

  m.m and Make a mark each time you

  come to another one. and number it.

  DON’T FORGET TO SAY IF IT’S

  M.M OR I.N OR C.M.

  Nory hadn’t made a ruler herself, unless you count the one she had drawn on the paper to illustrate how to make a ruler in the project. Another project was a quilt: ‘If you have any rags, why not make a quilt? You could embroider it. It would be very hard but worth a try.’ Another project was:

  WRITE A STORY!

  Why NOT Write a story. It’s very satisfying.

  Here’s some of mine: ‘It was a cold icy freezie day in Autumn. A poor girl dressed in rags shiverd, she was huddled bythe side-walk.’

  The project book was going at a slug’s pace, though, because Irene was in Burlington, Vermont, and Nory hadn’t sent off any of the pages she had made so far. Irene had a wonderful dog named Simone.

  30. The Rest of the Story About the Icy, Freezie Day in Autumn

  The story about the icy, freezie day in Autumn was quite different from Nory’s other stories because she had written it down at Junior School, as an assignment for Mrs. Thirm, rather than just telling it aloud to one of her dolls. So unless she lost the notebook that it was in she couldn’t possibly forget it. The story so far was:

  Event One and Intorduction of Characters. It was a cold icy freezie day in Autumn. A poor girl dressed in rags shiverd, she was huddled by the side-walk. Long brown hair swept across her face, and tangeled though it was, if it had been brushed and combed it would be lovely hair. She could hear barking in the distance, she sighed, how nice it would be to have a dog to play with to always be at your side. ‘Oh Well it probably already belongs to someone,’ she thought. She blew the hair out of her face. The barking seemed to be geting closer by the minet. She lisened very cearfully and heard the raket came from a Sealyham she new alot about dogs they were her favorit thing in the world she used to get around at night by listening to the barking of the dogs now the barking was so close so could almost hear the padding of the dogs foot hit the ground. She turned in the direction she thought the barking was coming from there was a small black figure who seemed very pleased inded for making the loudest noise anyone could hear for miles, with no leash no person behind him only people trying to soo him away this what at the bottem of her heart she was wishing for. she couden’t control her self she ran as fast as she could to him and throgh her self around his neack. and It was nice to feel his warm breath on her hands, and his soft fur on her face. The dog stoped barking, and looked at her out of his lovely black yees. He was a large dog for a Sealyham, he was also quite strong. She gathered her self and knelled by the dog. She smiled at him, What is your name? The dog looked content, then he barcked three times quickly, and it sounded like rour ran roph. Since he looked so content she figured he had sucsessfully told her his name was Ranrof. She sayed ‘Ranrof is a lovely name.’ She looked round her self and every one seemed to be staring so she and the dog slowly walked away. Mines Marielle she sayed how old are you she asked the dog, rine barked the dog. Which Marielle thout was nine, ‘I’m nine too’ she sayed. ‘It’s time we get somthing to eat’ she sayed agin. They had come to a bush full of ripe berrys, they almost were more berrys than bush, and they had a lovely dinner of berrys.

  Event two: the complecation. Marielle woke up from a long sleep to find that Ranrof was gone, she was upset ‘Perhaps it was only a dream’ she thought. how she longed for Ranrof, his beautiful black eyes, his soft fur and his warm breath ‘I wish dreams came true’ she sayed. ‘It coulden’t hurt calling for him’ So she stood up and called ranrof again and again but nothing happened. So she sat down and looked for traces of him to, prove he wasn’t a drea. there were footprints but it could have been something else. She fell back and was going to relas, When she notesed the ground was very soft in one part she sat up and saw that a trace of a what seemed dogs foot-print. but It seemed to be thear on purpose. Not just a dog was ramdomly walking and happened to step there, but really worked hard to make a deep foot-print. Mayby its a sort of signiture to say it was that dogs property but, maybe just maybe it was tring to take place of a card in which case there might be a present inside a sort of goodby persent. And she decided that it would be better to open it and have it not be hers, than it be hers and not open it because of corse if it wasen’t herse she could cover it back up agin, and any way she wanted all the eviedence she could get to prove Ranrof wasn’t a dream and if it was from any dog it might be as well from Ranrof.

  Then she heard strage issing noises very cloes. She looked behind her and there were two large cats hissing and meowing at eachother they seemed to be arguing, hey hey she sayed dont argue but they kept on so she had to sit inbittween them so they couden’t go on. Now now she sayed slowly for theas cats were sort of
fritening becase they were so lage. The cats looked embarassed, and gave Marielle the look of ‘what do you want.’ So she ansered there look of ‘what do you want,’ with a look of ‘you know perfectly well.’ Then the cats seemed to be wispering at eachother. In fact they were wispering so quietly that she could almost hear her heart beeting, for it was beeting rather louwdly because of the size of these cats. Then a thout struck her mind, wouden’t It be best to become friends with these cats maybe somehow they could tell her, somehow if they had seen Ranrof, and besides they were huge things. Itwas then that she deicided she should look at them becaus she hade been looking at the sky this whole time. They were onely showing off. They had their tails lifted high in the air (as they say) and where swaing while walking slowly cicleling her. They where going in oppisite directions so when they bumped noses, they would turn around at the same time and start off in the other direcion So they realy looked as if one was in the miore. She stood there for a few minutes just staring, and sometimes realy did beleve that one was a riflection in a mior. Oh! because I forgot to tell you they where totaly idenical and I bet they could trick people as to wich one they were. After staring at them for about 5 minets her eyes got tired and she glased away for a minut, they sat down and curruld up as if that was what they were wating for in wich case she wondered what would happen if she had stared all night just then she felt something lick her with their tounge.