The Crash of Hennington

by Patrick Ness

  —Everything’s going to be fine.

  —And you can promise me this how?

  —We’ve gotten others away before you.

  —There’ve been others?

  —Yes.

  —What others?

  —Ma’am, please, the less you know the better. For everyone. Trust me, you’re safe here. I don’t mean to be shifty, but you really don’t have any choice other than to trust me anyway.

  —I suppose.

  —It’s true.

  —I have one more question.

  —All right, maybe.

  —How did there get to be ‘sides'? You said the guards were on our ‘side'. How did that happen? How did I end up on a ‘side'?

  —I can’t really explain. Things just happen. Over time, they accumulate. Bad attracts bad. Good attracts good. Eventually there are sides. The members flux, sometimes the boundaries are gray. Good and bad are sometimes not the point. It happens. For now, concentrate on the fact that you’re safe and that you’ll get out of this.

  —Because I will.

  —Because you will, yes.

  He left her a surprisingly large number of sandwiches and a slightly less generous pile of fresh bananas and sweet lemons, as well as another cask of water. Time passed quietly, and she had only her thoughts for company. Maybe what the shorter one had said was all true. It made a certain amount of sense, and the hints that all this had happened before with success was also a surprising and welcome addition. She was part of something larger, that was clear. Where had this food come from? And the two men? Then again, if fortune had decided to step in and grace her with some good luck, then maybe it was about time, right?

  The lights in the storehouse cast most of the room and furniture in stark shadows and sometimes plain blackness. She munched a banana. Somehow strength had sneaked back into her body, and she realized that several days had gone by without a single thought spared for Forum. She toyed with the desire in her brain, testing its potency. It was still there, still lurking, and she didn’t focus on it for long. But still, a bunch of days in a row.

  She threw away her banana peel and pulled back a few tarpaulins. All the stacked tables and chairs made a terrific ad hoc playground. Kids could have a grand old time let loose in here. She tried squeezing herself underneath a table, making a cave out of it, but even with all the weight she’d lost, she couldn’t quite get deep enough to hide, deep enough to pretend she was spelunking miles away from the world outside. This is a pastime for a child, she thought. A child. She allowed a thought to germinate and take hold in her mind. Could fortune stand a test? How much luck was presently available? If she grabbed for some more, would it be there? On the run from a dangerous man who was spending an unseemly amount of resources to find her, suffering life-threatening withdrawals from a life-threatening drug, out of a job and any discernible future: for God’s sake, fortune owed her one.

  When he arrived again, she was ready with her request.

  —Can you get me a phone?

  78. Letter To The Editor.

  To the Editor,

  I write not, as you might expect, as a Candidate for Mayor of Our Great City of Hennington, though unlike my opponent, my stake in my Candidacy has never wavered due to personal doubts, nor did I re-enter the Race when I found it personally expedient to do so. I have remained in the Race since declaring my Candidacy because I intend to win by standing on my Principals [sic], by showing fortitude in this Contest, and by addressing the Issues and Concerns of the People. Not for me the hem and haw, should I or shouldn’t I, back and forth that might bring into question my Character and my Dedication. No, I have stated my intention to run for Mayor, and running for Mayor is what I’m doing without reservations.

  No, I write to you and to this fine newspaper as a Citizen of Our Fair City of Hennington, as a Tax-Payer, as someone with an active interest in the Future of Hennington. I write because it is my duty as a Citizen, not as a Candidate, to participate in the Civic Activities of my Chosen Home. In this instance, I write to you because of my deep, deep concern about an Issue that has plagued this City for years, an Issue about which there has been much disagreement, an Issue that because of recent Events now needs a resolution more than ever.

  I write to you about The Crash. I write to you because it is my deeply felt Belief that the time has come to control these wayward animals, to protect the Citizens of Hennington from what has now proven to be a menace and a danger to Our Beloved City, to place the right to Safety of our Citizens over the ‘concerns’ of a handful of City Officials for the so-called ‘autonomy’ of a herd of three-ton rhinoceros. As a City, we have given them free rein to wander in and out of whatever avenues and byways, private and public property, fields and roads that they choose. It is my opinion, and I believe the opinion of many of the other Citizens of Our City, that the time has come to end this freedom in the interests of the Public.

  I am not a fool. I know this is not a Popular Issue. I know the risk I take to my Candidacy by demanding that something be done, but I am also a man of Integrity, a man of Probity, a man who is willing to Sacrifice Secular Ambition for my own Personal Convictions. If this costs me the Mayoralty of Hennington, then I rest in the knowledge that my Conscience will at least be clear because I will have stood up for what I believed to be true.

  I ask my Fellow Citizens to hear me out.

  Everyone knows by now about the death of harmless Maggerty the Rhinoherd on the horn of what is generally acknowledged to be the lead animal of The Crash. I had the terrible personal misfortune of actually bearing witness to the events of Maggerty’s untimely passing. The whole action unfolded on the southern golf course at Hennington Hills Golf Course and Resort, a facility of which I am lucky enough to be President and CEO. I was taking my normal drive through the grounds, making sure they were up to the professional standard that we like to uphold at Hennington Hills, when I saw that The Crash had wandered deep onto the tenth green and were grazing away.

  Because of Current Hennington Law, as any home-or business-owner in the City knows, I was unable to perform any action that might move The Crash off of my property or frighten or disturb them in any fashion. If such a law had not been in place, I might have been able to prevent the tragedy that followed. If I am lucky enough to be elected Mayor of Hennington, the General Public can rest assured that no one in the future will have to be put in my position of having to watch senseless slaughter without being able to intervene.

  With no provocation whatsoever, the lead animal in The Crash suddenly charged Maggerty, catching him with its horn and tossing him callously to the ground. The animal then went back to eating the grass while poor Maggerty lay dying a painful, bloody death on the ground nearby. It was then that I must admit I broke the law regarding non-molestation of these pests, and I drove my golf cart loudly through the herd, trying to scare them off so that I could get Maggerty whatever help might have saved his life. The animals were belligerent and hostile to me as I shouted to try to get them to move away. The lead animal even attacked my golf cart. I was only saved by turning at the last moment and avoiding the charge. Finally, I was able to drive the herd off of my property, but as we all now sadly know, it was too late to save our poor, beloved City Mascot, Maggerty the Rhinoherd.

  The next step should be obvious. The Crash are a menace, plain and simple. Who’s to say when they’ll strike next? Will it be you or your family who are gored? Will it be your property next to be destroyed? Will your rights be trampled upon in the name of ‘Crash Autonomy'?

  I call upon Max Latham, the self-styled ‘Crash Advocate-General’ – a position he invented himself when he decided to pull out of the Mayoral Race – I call on him to solve this problem, to do something that will put this Public Menace to an end, once and for all. If Max Latham has chosen to take up the cause of The Crash, then let him take the responsibility for keeping them in line. If he declines, then I call for his resignation. Something must be done. Someone must be held acc
ountable. I say Max Latham is that person in his current position.

  There’s something more I’d like to add about Max Latham. My parents were both City Councilmembers up until my mother’s untimely death, may she rest in peace. My father is still a Man of great standing in Our City, through both his civic-minded efforts and through the millions and millions of dollars his businesses generate. He has been a longtime supporter of Our Current Mayor, Cora Larsson, both financially and actively, and rightfully so. Mayor Larsson has proven herself a dedicated and effective Leader for the past twenty years.

  Now, Max Latham has taken up the banner of Cora Larsson, running on her coat-tails and with her support and endorsement. I know many of you have assumed that Archie Banyon would automatically throw his support behind Latham. I write to you today that, because of the issues I have raised here and others, my father cannot and is not supporting Max Latham for Mayor of Our Towering City.

  You know Archie Banyon. You now know how he feels about Max Latham. Now I have called upon Max Latham for action against an obvious danger to this, Our Magnificent City. This is a test right now of what kind of Mayor Max Latham plans to be. How will he handle it?

  The ball is in your court, Max. This is an Issue that we as Citizens can’t afford for you to be wishy-washy on. I and the rest of Hennington await your answer.

  Proud to be a Citizen of Hennington,

  Thomas Banyon

  [Editor’s Note: All capitalizations sic]

  79. The Inevitable Disappointment By Those We Love.

  And again, the phone.

  —Is what he said true?

  —Which part?

  —I know all that bullshit about The Crash is lies, but have you withdrawn your support from Max?

  —I would have put my endorsement of Thomas in less warm words than he did himself, but yes.

  —Oh, Archie—

  —Cora, please. I can’t take your disappointment, too. I know the ramifications of my actions, but he’s finding Luther’s killer for me. And he’s my son. In my position, you’d do the same.

  —I guess I can’t really say that I’m altogether surprised, but really, Archie, where have you been? Why couldn’t you have told me yourself?

  —Everything’s different now. I’m sorry. I know I’m letting you down. I’m letting a lot of people down. But Luther’s dead. He’s dead.

  —You don’t know that. I thought there was still some question—

  —Don’t be consoling, Cora. You’re a warm woman, but condolence has never been your strong point. It’s almost unseemly in my picture of you.

  —I’m not sure I know what that means.

  —I’ve always loved you for your strength.

  —And I’ve loved you back, Archie.

  —That’s not what I mean. I’ve loved you. Do you hear me? But I’ve always redirected my love in a friendly way. I was your good friend.

  —You still are my good friend.

  —But not your lover, or even your husband.

  —Archie—

  —None of that matters now. That’s the only reason I’m saying any of it. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is finding Luther’s killer.

  —The police are doing all they can—

  —Thomas is the only one who’s going to be able to find him, and you and I both know it. Now, when nothing matters, please at least be that honest.

  —You’re frightening me, Archie, how you’re talking.

  —There’s no point in beating around the bush. There’s no point in saying anything that’s not the truth anymore. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

  —Of course things matter. You’ve got your friends, your business—

  —Who cares about that? I’d already lost one son, and now I’ve lost another. How can I possibly put any more energy into something as trifling as Banyon Enterprises?

  —When can I see you? I want to see you in person.

  —There’s no point.

  —Are you in your office now?

  —Yes, but—

  —Will you see me?

  —Cora—

  —As a friend, I ask you this favor. See me. I can be there in twenty minutes. Yes?

  —All right. What can it matter? Yes.

  It only took fourteen minutes, and she chewed her thumbnail the whole way. That bit about love troubled her. They had skated away from it, but it hung around her mind like an unannounced houseguest. Love, he said. He loved her. Had loved her this whole time. She smiled a little crazily behind the thumbnail. She had loved only one man in her entire life and that had been good enough for forty years. Now, all of a sudden, when most women her age were thinking about retirement, when she was thinking about retirement, suitors were falling out of the sky, and in the most unseemly ways. One was trying to destroy the city, the other offered up his devotion as an apparent prelude to death. Why couldn’t this have happened when she had more energy for it?

  He looked even worse than she had feared.

  —Heavens above, Archie. Have you seen yourself lately?

  —I don’t need a lecture, Cora.

  —You’ve lost Luther, I know, your son in all the most important ways, but—

  —In my mind, I never counted him as anything but my son. Do you know how much it hurt when he didn’t take my name? And then still didn’t when he grew up? My heart ached over that, but did I say anything? No, because I loved him as my son.

  —Archie—

  —I asked the fates for a son and got Thomas. Some bargain, huh? Thomas isn’t a son, he’s a limerick. The richest man in town blessed with five daughters, but is that good enough for me? Of course not. I want a namesake. So here comes little Thomas. My pride and joy. Until he took his first independent action. Which was guess what? Pouring boiling water over the family bird. A childish accident, perhaps, but I knew even then I’d been fooled. Tricked. I’d wanted a son and had gotten an imp. Gotten a punishment.

  —But—

  —But was that enough? Enough punishment for Archie Banyon? Rich, successful Archie Banyon? Oh, no, not by a long shot, because here comes an earthquake. An earthquake! In Hennington! Never felt before or since and down comes my house, taking every woman in my life and leaving me with Thomas. Me and Thomas, what a treat.

  He paused, but she didn’t interrupt him again. The terrifying glint in his eye, the cracking force to his voice. I haven’t watched him closely enough, she thought. I haven’t been enough of a friend.

  —So fate intervenes again. This time for the good. I’m delivered a wonderful, smart, sensitive, strong, good son, who loves me back, who works hard, who takes guidance, who brings me joy. Here’s my reward, I thought. For all the heartbreak. Fate has realized that it’s over-stepped and has taken measures to set things right. Luther. My beloved Luther. I’m even able to make a peace between the three of us, me, Thomas, and Luther. I’m even able to see Thomas flourish and become successful in his own right. I’m able to be happy at last.

  His face hardened, his teeth clenched. His next words were punishments of air.

  —And then what do I do with my happiness? Luther comes to me, comes to talk to me, in his moment of greatest need, as vulnerable as one person can be before another, and what do I do? I throw him away. My God, my God, my God, I throw him away. I did it. It wasn’t fate this time. Fate had made amends for its errors and given me my greatest happiness, and I threw it away.

  —Archie, please. Torturing yourself does no good. None. You’re still in shock from the grief.

  —I need to find his killer, Cora. That’s it. That’s the only important thing left. I need to find him.

  —And then what? You can’t—

  —Then it will all be over.

  Cora was nearly swallowed by the hole in his gaze as he said it again.

  —Then it will all be over.

  80. How Things Add Up.

  —So, Daddy, I don’t think I understand.

  —That’s because it doesn’t make a whole lot o
f sense, pumpkin.

  —I thought people liked The Crash.

  —They do.

  —Then why does Thomas Banyon say that people want to be protected from them?

  —It’s an old political trick, Talon. He thinks that most people are neutral about The Crash and—

  —What does neutral mean?

  —That they don’t feel strongly for them or against them. Thomas Banyon is betting that most people don’t really think about The Crash all that much.

  —How can they not? The Crash is around all the time.

  —Precisely. They become so common that people stop thinking about them. I think he’s wrong. I think people care for The Crash even if they don’t think about them constantly.

  —But he thinks they will? I mean, won’t.

  —I think he thinks he can convince them that The Crash are some sort of threat. He’s thinking that if most people are neutral then they’ll be swayed by someone with a stronger opinion on the matter. Unfortunately, his strategy is usually right, but I’m hoping he’s wrong this particular time. I think he is. I think he’s making a mistake.

  —So that’s a good thing if he is?

  —It is and it isn’t. He’s trying to tell everyone that he’s on the good side and I’m on the bad side. It makes me waste time saying that it’s not true.

  —But that still doesn’t make any sense to me.

  —That’s because you’re a thinking individual.

  —Is that a compliment?

  —Of course it’s a compliment. Move your feet. I’m trying to tuck you in.

  —Will it work, what he’s doing? Can I let Theo under the covers?

  —Hold them up. I hope not. I don’t think so. It’s another old trick, too, to attack first, so I have to spend my time defending myself instead of telling people about my own ideas for the city.

  —That’s not fair.

  —Yes, but if he kept the fight fair, he knows he would probably lose. Let him out if he wants, honey, he’s probably hot under there. Let his head stick out.