Pet

by Akwaeke Emezi

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  —

  It took Jam all morning to figure out where to reveal Pet to Redemption. Her room was too small; Pet was scarier in cramped spaces if you weren’t used to its size. Anywhere outside was too risky, not because anyone else would see Pet but because they’d definitely see Redemption’s reaction if he had a bad one. Explaining why her best friend was freaking out at empty air seemed like a conversation Jam didn’t want to have with her neighbors. In the end she decided on her mother’s studio, because the room was large and Pet looked as if it belonged in there, as much as it could belong anywhere in this world. Bitter was at yoga and Aloe was at work, so she had a little time. Jam went to the studio and looked at the canvas that was still lying on the floor, ripped and empty. Bitter hadn’t been painting since Pet showed up. She’d said she needed a break, and both Aloe and Jam understood completely. It must’ve felt a bit like being betrayed by her own work, Jam thought, to have it come to life and then argue with them, bring stories of monsters in its smoky mouth, awaken a past her parents thought they had escaped. She wouldn’t have wanted to paint for a while either if she was Bitter. And maybe the canvas would help to convince Redemption—not that it could tell the story of that night, but perhaps it could help, even looking as it did, just a torn and empty canvas edged in painted smoke. But if Pet stood next to it, the colors would match, right down to the splatters of paint on the floor around the canvas. You could see that they went together. Redemption would look at it, and he would believe.

  Jam wasn’t even sure what she meant by believe—that Redemption would believe the story she was about to tell him? That he would believe in Pet? It was hard to question its existence once it showed up in all its mighty bulk. Or would he believe in monsters? That felt more unclear. Jam wasn’t sure how deeply Redemption bought the Lucille line, that there were no more monsters. She knew he agreed there was a distinction between no more monsters and no free monsters, but she didn’t know if he would believe there was a loose monster that needed to be hunted down. Even her parents hadn’t believed that, and they knew about monsters, they had grown up with monsters. Jam felt even more sure that her decision not to tell Redemption the monster was in his house was the right move. It was enough to show him Pet and tell him about the hunt. If they told him too much, he might leave, he might not want to hunt with her, and she and Pet would have a much thinner chance of finding the monster in his house without him.

  “I’m doing the right thing,” she said aloud into the empty studio, no one there to hear her. The paintings and sculptures said nothing back. Redemption was on his way already. Jam had told him to just meet her in the studio, and he probably thought she was going to show him some of Bitter’s work—which was funny, because, in a way, she was. There had been a brief spell when Redemption was interested in painting and had spent a few weeks hanging out with Bitter in the studio. In the end he decided he liked fighting more. It was a shame, Bitter had said; his hands were actually good at making things other than bruises and breaks.

  Jam searched for Pet, even though it had told her it wouldn’t come until she called. She cast wide through the air the same way she felt through the house, but it all came up empty. It looked like it was just going to be her alone with Redemption, at least at first. That was probably for the best, because once Pet came pouring through nothingness, Redemption’s life would change as certainly as Jam’s had. It made her nervous—no one outside this house had ever seen Pet. Her family’s reality had expanded when Pet was added to it, but everyone else still lived in that other world, the one where creatures from other realms didn’t exist. She was bringing Redemption over from that side, colliding the two worlds, and the weight of what she was about to do made the top of her head float away, even as she heard the front door open downstairs and Redemption’s voice calling a greeting as he entered. Jam puffed out a hard breath and focused on the soles of her bare feet, pressing them into the wood of the floor, uneven with age and paint and rough varnish. It’s going to be okay, she told herself. It’s going to be fine.

  Part of her wanted to just leave, just run away inside her head, dissociate deeper than anyone could find, but Jam knew she had to stay. The mission needed her. The hunt needed her. She bent over and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to center herself, and she didn’t notice that Redemption had entered the studio until he was taking hold of her shoulders gently. “Jam? You okay?”

  Jam straightened herself and tried to inject calm under the skin of her face as she looked at him and nodded. Except Redemption had been her friend for too long, and he could tell when she was pretending.

  “I got you,” he said, shifting to stand in front of her, toes to toes, his palms still warm against her shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re here, you’re real.” He leaned his forehead against hers, and Jam closed her eyes, trying not to cry. He was always so good at taking care of her, and now it felt like her turn to protect him, to do the right thing and make him feel safe, but Jam wasn’t sure if she was messing it up already. “It’s okay,” he said again, and they stood like that for a while, until Jam was settled back into her skin.

  She took a deep breath and stepped back a little. Thanks, she said.

  “Anytime,” he replied. “You sure you good?”

  Yeah. She smiled to show she was telling the truth this time, then took his hand and led him to the overstuffed orange couch in the corner, under a row of hanging ferns. The two of them pushed aside sketchbooks and worn velvet cushions to make room, then settled down on it. To her surprise, she was eager to tell him what was going on; it had been hard doing all of this without her best friend.

  “This is going to sound wild,” she warned him.

  “I’m ready,” he said, his eyes steady and intent. Redemption always loved a good story, the wilder the better. Jam took one of his hands in hers and started telling him everything, from the beginning, from Bitter making the painting and what Aloe had said, about how it wanted to be real, to her sneaking in and cutting herself on the canvas, coming back to find Pet emerging. She watched Redemption’s face as she spoke, and it remained the same as it always did, gentle and open and paying attention. He didn’t recoil in disbelief when she described Pet. Instead, he leaned forward, his eyebrows pulling together as he listened even harder, as if he didn’t want to miss even a fraction of a detail. It had been a long time since Jam had voiced this much or for this long, and she could see that Redemption was taking that seriously. It was entirely possible that he was also thinking she was out of her mind, but at least he was listening. Jam’s voice faltered when she told him about Pet’s mission, the hunt for a monster in Lucille, and for a second the truth wanted to wing out of her mouth. She clipped it fiercely—now wasn’t the time—but she could still feel the faint stone of guilt in her chest as she continued with the story. How could it feel both right and wrong to not tell him the monster was in his house?

  “Anyway,” she finished, “that’s what’s been going on. And that’s why I wanted us to go to the library today, so we can look up how to figure out what a monster looks like. But Pet wanted me to tell you everything first. I mean, I wanted to tell you too, but I was scared.” She shrugged. “Now you know.”

  Redemption leaned back into the pile of cushions, staring at her wide-eyed. “Whoa,” he said. “I wanna ask if you’re for real, but I already know you are. So, wow. Just give me a second, yeah?”

  Sure, she replied. It’s a lot to think about.

  Redemption threw his hands up. “It’s unreal!”

  Jam gave a short laugh. Trust me, I know.

  “I mean, I can’t even imagine.” He shook his head in awe. “You must have completely freaked out!”

  Jam gave him a small smile as a shaky hope built inside her. You believe me?

  Redemption frowned and sat forward again to take her hand. “Jam, of course I believe you,” he said, searching her eyes
with his. “You would never lie to me.”

  Ha, Pet said inside her head, its voice showing up with an abrupt and unbalancing suddenness. He is so confident in you, yes?

  Shut up, Jam replied. I didn’t call you yet!

  Pet ignored her spikiness. You were taking too long. It paused. It’s not too late to tell him, you know, it added.

  I know, she answered, and she did. Jam had seen it enough times in books and movies, where one person had a chance to be honest, a window of an opening that closed with their silence intact. She knew it would come back and blow up and be worse, all for that window in which something could have been said, and she knew she was, right in that moment, inside that window. Redemption was looking at her with those black, trusting eyes of his, his eyebrows thick and messy above them. Jam could tell him the rest of the message Pet had arrived with—she could tell Redemption all of it, right now—and it would probably be fine. But her friend had believed her so easily, and everything was going so well as it was. Redemption was even talking now, chattering about if Pet was really serious about showing itself, if he was really going to be able to see it. He seemed excited about the whole thing, and Jam couldn’t bring herself to break that, the story, the magic of a creature spilling out of a painting. She couldn’t contaminate it by involving his house, his family. Pet’s version of the story had been breaking her heart since she heard it; she wanted to wait a little before breaking Redemption’s.

  Am I a terrible person? she asked Pet.

  There is no such thing, it replied. There’s only what you do.

  You know what I mean…is what I’m doing terrible? Not telling him?

  You humans and your binaries, Pet said. It is not a good thing or a bad thing. It is just a thing.

  “Okay, but for real, for real, though,” Redemption was saying. “It’s going to show up? Right here? Like, right now?”

  Jam couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was so different from her fears. Yeah, when I call it.

  “Whoa! Okay, okay.” Redemption arranged himself on the couch and took a couple of deep breaths to prepare. “And you said it’s huge, right? Like massive?”

  Yeah, it’s pretty big. It might be a little scary, especially because it doesn’t have eyes. That takes some getting used to. And the claws. And the horns. And the menacing sense of destruction it tends to drag along with it, she didn’t add.

  I heard that, Pet said.

  Jam almost rolled her eyes. Whatever. Just show up already.

  She felt the air start to weigh down in response, and she looked at Redemption. I’m calling it now, okay?

  “I’m ready,” he said, his eyes bright.

  Good, Jam said. It’s coming.

  CHAPTER 8

  Pet materialized with a bit more style than usual, the air of the studio thickening into a ball of smoke that swelled into a roiling cloud, getting larger and larger until it started to solidify into Pet’s shape.

  Show-off, Jam said to it, and Pet chuckled back at her. Redemption grabbed her hand and held it tightly, his mouth dropping open as he stared at the smoke. The gray cloud of it disintegrated and drifted away in small streams, leaving Pet’s body full and solid in the studio, all gold and red-streaked white.

  “Holy shit,” Redemption whispered. “It’s right there!” He tugged on Jam’s hand, then let it go, his head oscillating between her and Pet. “It’s right there, Jam!”

  Jam’s heart was pounding, but his excitement drew a small laugh out of her. I know, she said. I can see it too.

  “I mean, yeah, but…wow!” Redemption dragged his hands down his face in disbelief, muffling his voice. “It’s huge!”

  Jam laughed again—his reaction was so much like him, that bright, unrestrained wonder. Pet stayed still, as if it knew that moving might be too much in that moment. It was also shielding its simmering menace, hiding it more than usual, and Jam sent it a silent thank-you for that.

  Redemption stood up and took a hesitant step toward the creature. “Is this okay?” he asked, turning his head to look back at Jam.

  She raised an eyebrow. It can hear you, you know? Pet’s not a thing.

  “Oh shit!” He looked back at Pet. “My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “That’s fine,” Pet said, its voice distorting the air with its not-humanness.

  Redemption jumped at the sound, the way the words scraped against reality and echoed inside skin. “Holy shit.”

  Pet tilted its head, and the horns caught sunlight through the studio’s windows. “You say that a lot.”

  Jam watched Redemption nod way too many times, like he was in a loop or a trance. His eyes were this close to bugging out. “I guess I do, man. I guess I do. Wow. You’re real!”

  Pet moved its head toward Jam, and she stifled a laugh. It was radiating layers of exasperation into the air, as if Redemption was an overexcited puppy. Your friend’s energy is considerable, it said.

  Jam waved a hand, but her friend wasn’t even looking at her. “Ay, Redemption,” she called out, taking pity on Pet. “You wanna tuck it in a little, maybe?”

  Redemption continued to stare at Pet and raised an admonishing finger at her without bothering to turn around. “Leave me alone, Jam! I’m having a moment here.”

  She raised her hands in defeat and shrugged at Pet. You’re just gonna have to deal with it, sorry.

  Pet huffed out a large breath of air and watched Redemption as the boy walked around it with greedy eyes.

  At least he’s not freaking out, Jam said.

  I might have preferred that, Pet replied, a trace of a sulk in its voice.

  What, you like being feared better?

  It has its advantages when you are a thing that does not fit.

  Jam didn’t have anything to say back to that. It sounded like a sad thing to say, but she wasn’t sure if she was reading Pet’s emotions properly, or if it could even feel sadness the way she did. She looked back at Redemption, who was muttering to himself and letting out the occasional low, impressed whistle.

  “Are you finished yet?” Pet asked after a few minutes, and Redemption jumped, blushing.

  “Yeah, sorry.” He walked back to Jam and stood next to the couch, shoving his hands in his pockets as his foot tapped excitedly against the floor. “So,” he said. “What do we do now? We help you with the hunt?” His eyes shone as they flickered between the other two, and Jam realized that for her best friend, this was a splendid adventure, the kind of thing they’d read about when they were younger, something he could now live out in real life. His brightness swept around the room in a contagious cloud.

  Library, Jam said. Find out how to see monsters.

  “Is Pet coming too?” Redemption asked.

  Jam and Pet nodded together, an accidental mirroring.

  Redemption frowned, confused. “Um, won’t people notice it walking around?”

  Don’t worry. It can be invisible to other people.

  Redemption’s mouth fell open again, and he was about to say something, but Jam smacked his arm and gave him a play-it-cool look. He pressed his lips together, but she could feel him suppressing his excitement as they left the house and set out for the library. It was easy for Jam to walk and pretend Pet wasn’t walking next to her, because she could still see it with all her other senses; the way it displaced the air, she didn’t need her eyes to tell her where it was. The air sang to her just like the walls and floors in her house. Redemption, however, was being incredibly obvious about turning to look at Pet as they walked down the street. Even when he tried not to, his head still swiveled as if tugged by a magnet, inevitably dragging his eyes over.

  I think you have to disappear to him, Jam said to Pet. He’s just going to keep doing that, and I’m worried someone’s going to notice that he’s being weird.

  He would make a t
errible tracker, Pet agreed. Jam felt its presence shift as it concealed itself from Redemption. When the boy looked over again, he gasped to find the air filled with nothing.

  “Where did it go?” he asked, leaning close to Jam to whisper the question loudly.

  You were being really obvious, she said. It’s giving you some time to get it together.

  “Aw, man. I’m sorry.” Redemption looked a little ashamed, and Jam squeezed his arm.

  It’s okay. It’s a pretty big deal to find out about Pet. I’m just glad you aren’t scared of it.

  He laughed. “I’m totally scared of it, Jam! Who wouldn’t be? But it seems to like you, and you’re somehow not scared, and that makes me feel like it’s okay, you know?”

  Jam figured it wasn’t a good time to point out that Pet could still hear everything Redemption was saying—just because you can’t see or hear something doesn’t mean it can’t see or hear you. Maybe that applied to the unseen things Pet was talking about: maybe they were seeing her even when she wasn’t looking for them. The thought made the back of Jam’s neck prickle with fresh worry. She looked over at Pet, and it was walking the way it always did, slow, full strides, an embodied machine of purpose so strong it had been pulled across worlds. The sight was comforting. There weren’t many things Jam knew about Pet, but she knew she would be safe with it, no matter what unseen monsters remained veiled in Lucille.

  When they got to the library, Ube was going through a stack of books at his counter. He looked up when they walked in, seeing only Jam and Redemption.

  “My favorite researchers,” he said, his teeth strong and slightly yellowed, bared in a wide grin. One of his canines had a small gem set into it, catching the light. “What y’all into today?”

  Jam tried not to look over at Pet, who was wandering around, looking at the shelves. The library had soaring ceilings and tall windows; it looked like a building made for the creature.