by Jeff Povey
That was the plan!
It’s come back to me at last. That’s what we decided to do. To use Billie to soothe the Beast. She’s going to be horrified when she finds out she has to keep being nice to two Apes, but at least it’ll keep both of the Johnsons alive.
But more than that I have no idea what she’ll do when she learns that the last five months were pure myth. If ever I was going to be a good friend it’s going to be now.
Poor Billie, I think. She isn’t going to like this one bit.
I need to talk to Billie but she has wandered back into the snooker hall. When everything calmed down I filled them all in on the timescale issues and now Johnson is sitting alone under the blue clock in a partial daze, as he tries to come to terms with what he has just learned. He hasn’t said anything and I’m imagining that all of the false memories and experiences are draining from him, falling like sheets of melting ice into one big puddle of incomprehension.
Other-Johnson came out from where he was hiding but still has a hold on Billie just to make sure she doesn’t go and do anything crazy. I silently asked him to try and help her and he said he’d put good thoughts into her head if he could.
All the lights in the snooker hall are on and their glow spills down into the square where GG and the Moth are trying to explain to both Apes what has happened with the strange fluctuations in time and season. GG tried before with the Ape when they were outside the church but Non-Ape wants it spelled out in the simplest of terms. They have to comply or he’ll probably punch them. It isn’t going well.
‘It was an hour in both worlds,’ says the Moth.
‘You said it wasn’t,’ says the Ape.
‘But it was,’ GG adds.
‘But you said it wasn’t,’ repeats the Ape.
‘I know, but I think I get it now – and it definitely was an hour.’
‘So why say it wasn’t?’ The Ape can’t let it go.
‘Because it felt like it wasn’t. Even though it was,’ the Moth says.
‘So it was an hour?’ Non-Ape chips in with his deep gruff voice.
GG nods. ‘Yes.’
‘That lasted five months.’ The Ape looks pleased; he’s got it now.
‘No, it was an hour that lasted an hour,’ GG clarifies.
‘So how come it was Christmas?’ Non-Ape asks.
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Was. I made a snowman,’ the Ape tells them.
‘Was a great snowman.’ Non-Ape’s eyes light up, impressed.
‘Best one ever.’ The Ape is deeply proud.
‘You got skills.’
They knock knuckles together at this. One large slab of hand banging into an even larger slab of hand.
‘Skills.’ The Ape lets the word roll off his tongue, savouring it.
‘Skillllllls,’ Non-Ape repeats.
‘Look, it doesn’t really matter now. Main thing is we know it wasn’t real.’ The Moth’s voice has gone a little more whiney with exasperation.
‘Was real,’ the Ape responds.
‘Can’t build a snowman out of not real.’ Non-Ape jabs the air in the front of the Moth’s eyes, pointing with each word.
‘It’s rude to point.’ GG lays a hand on Non-Ape’s pointing finger, pushing it gently down. ‘But nothing was really real.’
‘The snow was real. I made a snowman,’ the Ape repeats.
‘Skillllllls.’
‘OK, look at it this way, someone made us believe that time had passed and they also created all manner of things to help make us believe it.’ The Moth looks increasingly tired and drawn.
‘It was real then.’ Non-Ape punches the air. ‘We win!’
‘No. No, no, no.’
‘What else can they make?’ the Ape asks.
‘What?’ GG says.
‘Can they make a zoo?’ Non-Ape’s eyes brighten like a child’s.
‘A zoo?’
‘Can they?’
‘I don’t know. We don’t even know who made the snow.’
‘What about Disneyland?’ Non-Ape grins.
‘Like I said—’
‘Thunder Mountain!’ Ape yells.
‘I don’t think they were doing it to make us happy. They wanted to hurt us,’ GG says. The Moth has fallen silent: he has given up trying.
‘Snow doesn’t hurt,’ Non-Ape reasons.
The Moth breaks his silence. ‘You were throwing snowballs at a million miles an hour!’
‘Anyway, great chat. That’s pretty much explained everything.’ GG makes to walk away.
But the Ape stops him. ‘So how long have we been here?’
GG groans. ‘What!?’
‘Is it an hour or not?’
‘Feels longer,’ Non-Ape says.
‘Well, it’s longer now. It’s more like eight hours.’ GG has a please-hang-me-now look.
‘So it’s not an hour?’
‘Not any more it’s not!’ the Moth whispers through clenched, desperate teeth.
‘So why say it was an hour?’ the Non-Ape asks.
‘Ha, you lose!’ the Ape punches the air again.
‘They know nothing,’ Non-Ape tells him and adds a satisfied belch.
Ape dredges his own louder belch and a belch-war starts between the Apes. It could almost be called a mating ritual because I have never seen two people click as quickly – and, well, lovingly – as the Ape and Non-Ape. They are a match made in heaven. All hate and rage has bled away from Non-Ape and I am praying that they can stay friends long enough to help get us out of here because we could use them both.
GG walks slowly away, his hands covering his face. ‘I’ve never wanted to die before, never saw it as a healthy option, but after that conversation I’m not so sure.’
With the snow melting and the winter crawling away before our eyes GG decides that we should all go to the train station and start heading for London and the smashed hotel. There is still the chance that the alien world will find a way to break through to this world and no one wants to be around when that happens. If one of them is already here, messing with our perceptions, and changing the weather, then it is no time to dawdle. We need to get as far away as we can from whoever is doing these things because recent experience tells me it’s only going to get worse.
Non-Ape hoists the Moth and his wheelchair with indecent ease onto one of his broad shoulders. ‘Let’s go.’
His mind – if he has one – should be overloading with questions. Like, why is the Moth in a wheelchair and why are there two Johnsons? But he hasn’t said a thing yet, though I’m pretty sure that time is bound to come. It takes an age for any thought to strike an Ape and he still hasn’t questioned why there’s a smaller version of himself.
‘I’ll get Billie,’ I tell the others. Other-Johnson has been looking after her; after taking over her mind he knows she has to be treated delicately.
I head past Johnson at the clock who looks up and he raises his finger to his temple and cocks it my way.
‘That was weird.’ He’s trying to sound calm but there’s something in his voice, an edge or a subtle twang of the vocal chords, which tells me he is suffering. I want to stop and say something that’ll help but I’m saving it all for Billie.
‘Weird but not wonderful,’ he adds, and a chill runs through him as more of the fake five months slip away.
I find Billie sitting on a snooker table, her legs dangling as she cups her chin in her hands. Other-Johnson doesn’t need to read my mind to know I want some alone time with her. A simple nod and he’s gone.
I’ve known Billie since we were four years old and when I first laid eyes on her she was sitting in the exact same way. She was troubled, so I went over and we became best friends from that moment on. She’s seriously troubled now so I do the same.
‘Billie?’
Billie’s facial scars are back, deep gouges down one cheek caused by Non-Lucas’s talons. That was a horrible trick to play on her. Making her believe they were healing. The Manipulator who creat
ed the fake months has a deeply cruel streak and the sooner we escape the better.
‘Hey, Rev.’ Billie offers me a smile but it fails.
‘We, uh, we need to get going.’
‘I thought maybe I could stay here.’ Billie’s eyes are filling with tears.
‘Hey. No. No way. We go together. Like always.’
‘I don’t think I can . . .’ She stops, then starts again. ‘I don’t think I can be around Johnson.’ Her eyes meet mine. ‘Rev, I feel like such a fool.’
I step closer and lay my forehead against hers, our eyes level. ‘You were tricked. We all were.’
‘But I love him. That’s what’s inside me now. That is still there.’
I want to tell her it’s not real, that it’s all just residue.
‘Billie, we can figure this out. You and me. We’ll look back and . . . And . . .’
‘Laugh? Only that’s the last thing I’m thinking about right now. I’ve got these feelings, Rev. Whether they’re real or not, I’ve got them.’
I slip my hand into hers and squeeze. ‘I’m not leaving you behind. And I know it’s tough but I’m right here, just like always.’
‘I keep running it round in my head. Every single bit of it was as real as, well, real gets. We watched the seasons change. We saw the end of summer, then the autumn came, and I’ve got to tell you, Rev, it was so romantic. The leaves were turning gold, the sun was dipping lower. We went for long walks – you know that field where the bull lives? What was his name?’
‘Napoleon.’ He’s a massive beast, like Non-Ape on all fours, but he always ambled over if you stood at the fence long enough.
‘We went there. Napoleon wasn’t around of course, but we walked all over the fields.’
That’s one thing about this world. No animals. Which makes me wonder where the steak bakes come from. This is a world that operates on rules I truly can’t comprehend. The Moth could spend a lifetime working out what makes this parallel world tick. And he probably will. If we ever get home to safety.
‘Me and Johnson. Just walking. The Moth wasn’t interested.’ She smiles at the memory. ‘Even the rain was like something from a film. We got caught in it once and had to shelter under an ancient oak tree. We huddled there watching the rain and every now and then I got a drip on the back of my neck. It felt real, it made me shiver! And Johnson . . . slipped an arm round me.’
But he didn’t, I want to tell her. He didn’t do any of that. Billie covers her face with her hands and then shudders, as if trying to shake the memories away. ‘I guess we didn’t have a room in the hotel either.’
She sits up straighter and takes a deep breath She looks up at me and a small familiar light switches on behind her eyes. ‘This is still all your fault.’
I offer half a smile. ‘Give me a thousand lines. I must not take people to another universe.’
Billie smiles, then she rubs her eyes. ‘OK.’ She breathes out. ‘I can do this. I think. Let’s go.’
As soon as we get outside Non-Ape is waiting at the entrance with the Moth and his wheelchair still perched on his shoulder. The Moth has a resigned look on his face.
‘Don’t let him see you’re upset,’ I whisper to her.
‘You OK, Billie?’ Non-Ape asks.
Billie’s been wrenched this way and that over the last few hours. I know what it feels like to have Johnson slip away from you and even though I can still feel a weird distance between us no one wants to see this sort of heartbreak in their best friend.
Billie sniffles.
Non-Ape looms. He looks worried. Ready to blow.
‘Billie?’
Answer him.
Billie stares at Johnson who is still seated outside. She breathes deeply and then to her credit she dredges a white-toothed smile for Non-Ape. ‘I’m OK,’ she says.
‘You sure?’
I can see Other-Johnson and GG returning from the nearest shop with food and drinks for our journey. The Ape is with them but all he carries are cans of beer.
She nods. ‘Yeah. Just need a second. Lot to take in.’
I breathe out. ‘OK, let’s get going.’
‘Why haven’t you fixed your scars?’ Non-Ape asks Billie staring at her gouged cheek.
She swallows. ‘Uh.’
Non-Ape thinks Billie should heal herself. I’m surprised he’s even noticed, but that only reinforces the notion of his deep infatuation with her.
Billie struggles to think of a response and the silence comes with a death knell as I wait and pray for Billie to think of an answer.
‘Uh . . . Yeah. I, uh . . . I’m a bit low on power right now. Need to, uh, to recharge.’
Non-Ape thinks for a long moment and then nods. ‘You’d know.’
He sets off, carrying the Moth who wobbles a little with the movement. Non-Ape isn’t unhappy but he isn’t altogether happy either. I get the feeling he is like a savage animal that we can only hope is part domesticated. I don’t for a minute think we’ll fool him for ever and I don’t think anyone feels particularly comfortable around him.
Johnson joins us and shares a quiet look with Billie. I know he feels as embarrassed as she does, but neither seems to know what to say to each other.
‘Billie, listen . . .’
‘It’s all right, I’m OK.’ She nods. ‘Are you?’
Johnson reaches for her and before they know it they are hugging. ‘Yeah. Well. I will be,’ he whispers, care and concern in his voice.
‘Me too,’ she says. ‘Me too.’
They stay that way for a moment. Enveloped in a quiet sadness.
Johnson is the first to break from the hug. Billie feels the wrench but hides it as best she can.
‘We’ll always have Napoleon,’ Johnson tells her with a small smile.
She nods and I can’t help but be impressed by how strong she’s being.
GG leads the way to the train station. ‘London, here we come.’
My hands throb, my burns burn and my stabbed thigh aches, but at least it’s stopped bleeding. The melting snow is little more than sludge and disappearing fast as we splash through huge puddles.
I still can’t believe someone could create this. They’re practically God-like. Under different circumstances it would have been worth hanging around to see what else they can do, but today isn’t the day to find out.
‘Rev?’ Other-Johnson is walking about ten metres behind me. ‘Great plan.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply.
‘Impressed,’ he replies. I can almost feel him smile inside my head.
‘We’re getting out of this,’ I tell him, determined.
‘We’ll need to talk about that, you know, when the time comes.’
‘About what?’
‘I’ve only just got you back, and the moment’ll come when I have to let you go again. Probably for ever.’
I’ve been ignoring the fact that sooner or later we’re going to have to go to our own worlds. The thought sends a quiet shiver through me. ‘You’ve got your Rev.’
‘And, like I said, she isn’t you. Isn’t even close.’
Which I think is probably a lie. He is very good at lying. Or maybe not if I know it’s a lie. I wish he wasn’t like that. I promised myself I’d never forgive him for lying to me but I’m just too tired to pull him up on that.
‘If we find those papers or get your dad fixed, then it’s the end of us.’
‘There’s an us?’ I ask him.
‘Across every world you care to mention, there’s always going to be an us, Rev.’
He always says the thing that goes straight to my heart. I’m pathetic, I know but I can’t help it, he makes me swoon. Every single time.
‘Maybe with my dad’s or the Moth’s help we can work out a way to come to each other’s worlds.’
‘Now that’s what I call a long-distance relationship.’
‘Let’s just see if we can get home first.’
‘I know you, Rev, you’re going to save them all and th
en close the portals down. You can’t have my kind coming after you in this world or yours.’
‘Can we talk about something else?’ I’m not ready to say goodbye to anyone right now.
We fall silent for a moment.
‘I have to be with you.’
The words lift me but only so that the realisation that follows can shove me right back down again.
‘That can’t happen. We both know that.’
‘I’ll find a way.’
I don’t understand. Why, when he has Rev Two, am I so special to him?
‘I need to be with you, Rev.’
‘Please don’t.’
‘I don’t know how, but I’ll make it happen.’
He leaves my head and I walk on in silence. No one’s talking but the Apes are at least matching each other step for step. They seem very comfortable in each other’s company.
‘Think I’m going to be sick.’ The Moth is rocking like he’s on the back of an elephant so Non-Ape stops and sets him down.
‘Go on. Chuck up.’
‘I was just saying—’
‘Show some chunks,’ the Ape adds.
The Moth recovers. ‘I’m, uh . . . I’m OK . . . Was just a bit of a bumpy ride.’
Billie draws alongside them. ‘Just push him.’
Non-Ape is ready to do anything she says and places his giant hands on the back of the wheelchair.
‘No, wait!’ I shout.
But I’m too late and Non-Ape pushes the Moth with a mighty shove.
The Moth rockets along the high street, straight down the centre of the road. ‘Noooooooooooo!’
The heavy wheelchair grips the tarmac as it splashes through puddle after puddle, soaking the Moth with icy-cold water.
We lose sight of him after he’s gone about three hundred metres.
All of us stand in a bewildered silence.
Billie stares in dismay at the great behemoth. ‘Gently. I meant push him gently.’
‘Oh,’ is his only response.
GG quickens his pace. ‘That’s one way to catch your train.’
We all run after the Moth. Non-Ape feels bad now but the Ape punches his arm in a show of solidarity. ‘Great push.’
Non-Ape grins, spirits buoyed. ‘Skills.’