Purgatorium

by J. H. Carnathan

  I look down at the cigarette in my hand. It has burnt down to nothing. I reach inside my pocket, take out the pack, pull another one from it, and put it in my mouth.

  Madi, watching me, takes my matchbook from my hand, strikes a match lit, and reaches over. I lean towards her, letting her light the cigarette. I look at her quickly, smiling slightly, seeing that her eyes are wet.

  “My happiest moments were at the beach with my family,” I say. “My mom wearing a green and pale blue sundress, taking pictures of me and my father as we dug moats and made sand castles. Everything was tactical for him. He measured every angle, made sure everything was just right.”

  I exhale deeply as a look of grim resignation creeps across my face. “That was just like my father though. No room for error. Mom first taught me how to dance, right there in that sand. She was always a great dancer. Could have made something of herself, I guess, maybe gone professional. I wish those days could have gone on forever.”

  Expecting Madi to respond in some way, I hesitate. But Madi says nothing. “I bet you had a lot of great family moments,” I say. Madi sobs a little. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I have been so afraid to tell you this,” Madi says, sobbing more loudly now. “I always thought you would think less of me or something when you found out.”

  “I would never think badly of you, Madi, not ever,” I reply. “Why are you crying? Something about your mom?”

  “No, my mom was…” she stammers.

  “You can tell me,” I say, trying to reassure her. I hold her hands.

  “When my dad left, my mom was scared and alone. But she was a mother and she believed in that ideal. She took care of me as well as she knew how, but when I turned six years old, there was this guy my mom started dating. There had been others before, but this guy… His name was Jacob.”

  “What about Jacob, Madi?” I ask impatiently, scared of what Madi might say next.

  “My mother only knew Jacob for about two months before she married him,” Madi says, laughing despairingly. “He seemed like a fun guy. He even took our last name, Jacob Persail. It seemed like a kind gesture but, as it turned out, he only did it to hide from the drug dealers he owed money too. He used to play games with me. He loved to hear me sing. It gave him a pleasure I didn’t understand at the time. He also had a game called Candy Town that he never let me win. It was the only game he loved playing, but not as much as red rover…”

  Madi clutches my hands, gripping them tightly and crying harder. “It’s okay. I am right here,” I say softly.

  “I didn’t know it at first, but she was doing drugs too. Not just on the weekends either. She was using heavily. They gave her an escape, a convenient avenue to forget about her life…forget what leaving my father had done to me.”

  Two people had come up the stairs and stood about ten feet away from Madi and me. The two strangers held each other closely, kissing and whispering, looking out at the bay. A narrow shaft of light from the lighthouse arcs across the bay, interrupting the moon’s reflection.

  “She never really saw the person she truly married…the real person. I think she ignored all the signs; she wanted to be with someone so badly,” Madi continues. “My mom bought me an old, secondhand snow globe. The globe was mounted on a small base that was also a music box. When the lid opened, this nice tune would play.”

  “What song?” I ask.

  “The Light in the Piazza,” she says, fondly. “Our song.” She wipes away a tear from her cheek. “The song always put me to sleep and brought me good dreams. I loved that snow globe.”

  “You never did tell me what happened to it.”

  “Jacob,” replies Madi. “He broke it one afternoon in a drug-fueled rage because I wouldn’t hand him the remote.” Madi starts sobbing. “With the drugs slowly taking over, my mom was a mess. She started job-hopping. She ended up with one that required her to commute far away. Everyday, Jacob would drive her to and from work. He would pick me up from school when she didn’t have time or was too strung out.”

  I am worried and yet suspecting what Madi will say next.

  “There was a rest stop,” Madi says. “This abandoned old rest stop along the highway where we would stop every time.” She sobs more loudly now, her shoulders shaking with each sob. “He told me to get into the backseat. He got in on the other side. Then, he’d say he wanted to play a different game than the ones we played at home. He called it Red Rover. He kept whispering those words to me, over and over, ‘Red Rover, Red Rover, send Madi right over.’ He told me I had to play the game; it’s what good little girls did. He said I had to come over to his side of the seat when he said, ‘send Madi right over.’ So I did, not knowing what he was going to do next.”

  Madi sobs uncontrollably, hyperventilating a little. She breathes in deeply, holding my hands firmly, calming herself a little, but still trembling, before she can start talking again.

  “Jacob told me never to say anything to my mom because it was our secret and my mom might not understand. But he also said that if I did say something, he might have to hurt me.”

  Watching Madi’s face, I see that she is frantic, feeling something beyond fear or anger. “So, I said nothing. And every day for two months we pulled into the rest stop until I eventually told my mom. Long story short? Jacob was thrown in jail.” Madi is breathing more steadily and calmly now.

  Madi laughs. “There are nights I can still see him in my dreams. Always at that rest stop, always repeating, ‘Red Rover.’”

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” I say, putting my arm around Madi.

  “I couldn’t make him stop. I couldn’t, but that’s what I wanted—for it to stop.”

  I squeeze her tight and whisper to her, “I promise, I will never let anyone hurt you again.”

  “You can’t always be there to protect me,” she says, staring off over the water.

  “I mean it,” I say, pulling her as close as I can. Madi starts crying again, sobbing into my shoulder. She looks into my eyes, bringing her lips to meet mine. Light from the lighthouse cuts a swathe across the bay. The music from down below suddenly stops and my eyes are filled with bright light.

  My eyes remain closed, not wanting to open them to find that Madi is now probably gone. The music has left and I begin to realize why it sends me back to those specific memories.

  The music that I hear is the same as the music within my memory. The song must have some kind of strong mental hold towards my past which must make me remember it easier. Someone up there knows me well enough to play a set of music that has influenced me in a way that whoever it is knows about. But who could it be?

  I take away every possible answer of who it could be but the one I really want.

  Madi.

  I feel snowflakes falling onto my face. I open my eyes. The night sky is filled with a kind of jasmine color from the northern lights. I realize I am alone, lying on the bench in front of the oak tree in the park, not on the subway where I am supposed to be. I feel my wrist. My watch is gone. Gabriel must have done this, I think.

  A note lies on the ground next to me. It reads, “Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more I stand still, the faster I run.”

  I wonder why it’s there when I realize I can see my breath. I jump to my feet, my heart pounding in fear, and look around, listening closely for the shrieking sound. Instead of the reapers, I see the little girl again, standing by the oak tree.

  Moments later, I hear the distant shrieking of the reapers. I have time, I think. The girl looks scared. She walks up to me, raising her hands up and placing them on my face.

  “You have lost your way again, but you have not lost hope. I can see it, can you?” she asks. She removes her hands from my face. I look into the little girl’s eyes. “Will you keep your promise?” she says to me. I am shocked when I hear those words. Did she go inside my memor
ies too? I begin to lose focus. She points up behind me. I look over and up to see the statue holding the glass box in its hand.

  Suddenly, I turn around and she is gone. I look back at the glass box held by the statue. I see the reflection of some kind of indistinctly outlined object in the glass. Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more I stand still, the faster I run, I constantly repeat in my head.

  It’s an hourglass!

  The indistinct reflection in the glass becomes clearer and clearer. I see the hourglass. Sand trickles down through its neck. The sand fills the bottom and the hourglass slowly turns upside down. I understand what time it is now. Each time it turns over, another five minute cycle begins. That makes it 45 minutes.

  45 Minutes

  I would have been getting off the subway at this moment. I hear shrieking coming from the other end of the park. The fastest way back to my apartment building is by car. Though mine blew up, there are others on the street. I run down the block and see a car slowly moving. I look over and see an hourglass reflecting in the coffee shop window. I only have a few minutes left.

  I run towards the car, break the window, slide in, and see keys in the ignition. I take hold of the steering wheel and accelerate out of the parking lot and onto the ramp for the interstate.

  I look behind me and see dozens of reapers pursuing me. I drive down toward the exit to my apartment. I see the truck with the window glass up ahead in the left lane—its glass is still cracked.

  Looking back through my rearview mirror, I see my back windshield is freezing over. The rear wheels seem to slip along the now frozen pavement. Panicked, I press the gas pedal to the floor and pull up alongside the truck. Now, not only is the back of the car frozen over, but my steering is unresponsive.

  Quickly assessing the situation, I decide to ditch the car. I slam my left shoulder against the door, forcing it open. Freezing cold air rushes in. I push the door open against the force of the air rushing by, leverage myself so I can stand on my seat with my right foot, and step onto the hood with my left. Summoning all my strength, I jump towards the truck on my left.

  I grab for the passenger-side door handle, catch it firmly in my left hand, and grab the side mirror with my right. I then get my flailing legs up on the sideboard. The pain of the cold metal on my hands is excruciating. I press the release button on the door, push myself up with my legs, and force the door open against the wind.

  I climb inside the cab, letting the door slam shut behind me. I quickly jump over to the empty driver’s seat, take hold of the wheel, and stomp down on the gas pedal with my right foot. Looking through the rearview mirror, I see the reapers closing in on me from behind.

  Darkness and frost engulf the back window and the door beside me. I have reached my exit and quickly steer onto the exit ramp. I look up into my rearview mirror and see the reflection from the glass of the cargo truck. I look to find the hourglass is turning over, letting me know it’s been five minutes.

  50 Minutes

  Suddenly, the driver’s side door rips open. I turn the sharp corner onto my street. I see a reaper’s dark cold hand reaching for me. Without hitting the brakes, I push myself over to the passenger side, kick the door open, and jump out, hitting the sidewalk with my feet and rolling.

  I get up and run to the front door of the apartment building, push it open, and run inside to the elevator. It opens on my arrival and I rush inside. I press the button for the rooftop and sigh a big relief. No thoughts enter my head except for just one: Madi.

  I walk out of the elevator and onto the rooftop. I see the hourglass on the roof’s edge and look at the amount of sand left in the top to try to determine how much time I have left. It looks to be a couple minutes shy of fifty-five. I lean my head down, breathing heavily, relishing the moment of me making it on time.

  “Congrats! Well done!” I turn around and Gabriel is standing just a few feet in front of me, smiling sarcastically and antagonistically. “You’ve earned this back,” Gabriel says, holding my watch toward me.

  I snatch my watch with my left hand. As soon as I have it, I take a swing at Gabriel’s face, but he quickly steps left and I miss.

  Gabriel laughs, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the Rubik’s cube I finished earlier that day. “You see. It’s not about just finishing, it’s about how much time it takes you to finish. How fast your brain can accumulate information and react at any given moment. You see them now, yes? The flaws?”

  I take the two pictures I have left out of my pocket.I show him the one that was taken with the one on the ledge of the roof. I throw it at his face. I can see the hourglass standing straight on the ledge and watch it pour second by second to its bottom.

  Don’t you mean hourglasses?

  “Yes! The hourglasses are the order of things in this place, but once they are broken, it will bring about chaos. The reapers are that specific chaos in which I am talking about. As you witnessed firsthand on the interstate this morning. You’ll have to smash the whole lot of them all the way back here. Each hourglass must be destroyed in a certain amount of time. Take this hourglass, for example.” Gabriel points to the one on the roof.

  “Take this moment in time right now. You have to leave here at 55 minutes, right? Well, anytime before 55, you’re golden. Once it’s past 55, though? Then, the hourglass turns and you lose. Though it might seem to look a little different when you actually race. Meaning, if you see the sand turn into snow, then you better smash it fast and run like your life depended on it.” He looks at me, smiling, and says, “And I wouldn’t dare look back. Unless you want to piss yourself.”

  Gabriel looks at the cube in his hand, distracted by the one-sided colors, he wears a smile across his face.

  “Remember Adam and Eve? Sometimes you have to break the rules to earn back your full humanity. You’ve done this more times than I can count, but this time? This time is going to be different. You will see! You want to know how I know?”

  Gabriel takes the cube and looks at it, confirming, “I know because you’ve never once finished the cube in just one day.” He hands it back to me. “That’s something, right there. Let’s have a drink, shall we?!”

  Gabriel turns and walks to the table, still set with an open bottle of red wine and two glasses. He sits down and fills the wine glasses halfway. I walk to the ledge where the telescope is. I look back at Gabriel and see this is the first time I have seen him not stuffing his face. Maybe he finally got full, I think.

  Looking through the viewfinder, I still see only blackness. I again examine the telescope, trying to find what’s wrong with it. In my periphery, I see Gabriel standing next to me, holding a glass out for me. I angrily grab the glass and throw it over the ledge. We hear it shatter on the street below.

  “Probably best. Even though you can’t taste it you still can feel the side effects. It hits you a lot faster and the hangover is a lot stronger.”

  As I look back disdainfully at Gabriel, I notice he is wearing a coin necklace with the hourglass symbol on it. I haven’t seen him wear it before now, and I am finding that suspicious.

  Gabriel holds out a rolled-up piece of paper with blue lines on it. He unrolls it on the ground in front of me. “Your past self left this for me to give to you if your past self failed.”

  I look incredulously from Gabriel’s face down to the rolled paper. It’s a blueprint of my day, laid out on the city. Looking more closely, I see timetables beside each destination—my apartment, the cargo truck on the interstate, the coffee shop, the statue in the park, my office, the lighthouse restaurant, the subway, then my rooftop, and back to my room. There are hourglasses drawn at each location, I think to myself, understanding it all now.

  “A race to win all, end all,” says Gabriel.

  I look back at the hourglasses at each of my destinations. Each hourglass has an exact time written under it on when I must try to
be there by. I must have worked the numbers on everything.

  Gabriel looks at my watch. “Don’t hang too close to that time piece. If something were to happen to it, you then will soon be fighting off frostbite. Continue to count every minute to every second. Have it ticking away in the back of your mind at all times. If you lose track of the seconds, study the hourglass. It will tell you how short or long you have left.”

  Once the hourglasses are broken, then what happens?

  Gabriel leans back. “Now when all the hourglasses are broken, the reapers are put on pause; they won’t pursue you any longer. The hourglasses are connected within this world, holding everything all together. Once the hourglasses are destroyed, everything will freeze and start to fall apart. Buildings will collapse into a black void of nothingness and by God, you don’t want to be collapsing with it.

  Where do I go?

  Gabriel points to the subway from the blueprint. I look where he is pointing. The words “Mind, Body, and Soul” are written.

  “Now, your past selves believed your mind, body, and soul were the keys to getting out of here. You believed that once you had found each of them, unified them, and put them in your equilibrium, you would be not only able to speak again, you could also figure out the 42:02 problem, which you will learn about later. You see, your past selves thought that once your balance was restored, your soul would be purified.” Gabriel looks at the hourglasses on the blueprint.

  “Your past selves were right. Now that you see the flaws, the walls of order, you must break each and every one of them down, thereby building yourself a new, reformed body, which is the first. Once you are done, an exit door will appear. Though, seeing the exit door and opening the door are two entirely different things.” Gabriel walks to the telescope and runs his hand over it.

  “Second, you must find a token which not even I know what it is. Inside this token, you will find clarity of mind. In this token is the key to the door, your door. Your past self initially found it but told no one what it was, not trusting anyone but himself with the secret. He did give one clue so that we could give it to you if his mind ever got erased again. The clue was that the token was never a gift given to you. That is it. And remember when you do find it, only with the token can you open your exit door. Out of here.”