Shift #2

by Jeff Povey

  ‘Can you move all that rubble?’ Johnson asks Non-Ape.

  ‘Need to eat.’

  ‘But you can move it?’

  ‘Course. I got skills.’

  The Apes knock knuckles. ‘Skiiiiillllllllssssssss.’

  As they do I think of Billie.

  I can’t bear the thought of her roaming the city alone. She’ll be scared and panicked and, despite what she said to me, people need their best friends when they sprout talons and metal teeth.

  You have to hand it to GG; he had a taste for the finer things in life. The hotel he picked for us the last time we were here was pure five-star luxury. It’s rubble now of course, but in the good old days of yesteryear he found us the most amazing place I have ever stepped foot in. GG knew class when he saw it.

  Unfortunately Other-Johnson has less of an eye for luxury. I’m not complaining – the hotel he’s found is still huge and has hundreds of rooms, but it’s not quite what GG would have chosen.

  This hotel is older and not as exuberant, and sits two streets away from the river. It looks onto the world-famous Strand, though the usually busy street remains eerily empty.

  Night has closed in and forced us to find sheleter and wait for morning. Time is of the essence but Non-Ape needs to gorge himself and build his strength up again and we can’t see well enough to find the papers in a rubble-haystack anyway. No one has the energy to go shopping for torches.

  I went into a bedroom and yanked a bedsheet from one of the beds. I then managed to knot it round Non-Ape’s huge body, so that he now looks like he’s on his way to a toga party. The Apes marched straight into the kitchen and have been in there for well over two hours. I meant to tell them to ration whatever they do find because there could be long hard days of rubble-clearing ahead of us but my tired brain has all but closed down for the evening.

  The shower in my room is compact but modern compared to the rest of the musty hotel. I step into it, fully clothed, and turn on the hot tap. Water cascades onto me and I stand under it, rubbing soap and shampoo into my clothes and hair and skin. I am so tired I don’t even have the energy to get undressed. In the morning I will go ‘shopping’ while the boys – I never thought I’d be the type to say ‘the boys’ – start moving the rubble.

  The hot steamy water soothes and lulls me, and barely being able to stand I slip down so that I am sitting under the shower, arms propping me up, legs stretched in front of me. My plan is to strip off after the shower and hang my rock ’n’ roll clothes up to dry while I sleep the sleep of the dead.

  My eyelids are heavy and I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer. Maybe if I stretch out a bit more and lean my head back against the shower wall I could sleep here, while the soothing warmth of the water gently pummels my aches and scratches and cuts and bruises and burns.

  Yeah.

  Aches and scratches.

  And bruises and burns oh my.

  Lions and tigers.

  And bears oh my.

  Bruises and burns.

  And cuts oh my.

  Lions and bruises.

  Tigers.

  Cuts.

  Oh.

  My . . .

  There’s a hard rap on my hotel door.

  I jolt awake.

  ‘Rev.’

  It’s Johnson/Other-Johnson. I have no idea which one. I’m having trouble remembering if they’ve swapped back or not. I think they did.

  ‘Knock, knock.’

  I turn off the taps and wrap the Union Jack towel round my soaking-wet clothes. My eye finds the spyhole and Johnson/ Other-Johnson is standing there.

  He must sense me. ‘Room service.’ He smiles.

  It’s Johnson. My Johnson. He’s back in his human body and a bright blue eye appears at the spyhole. We are the thickness of a door apart.

  My eye, his eye.

  ‘How you doing?’ he asks through the door.

  ‘Living a nightmare. How about you?’

  ‘Same.’

  ‘Listen,’ he says, then hesitates. ‘I’m staying with you tonight.’

  He takes me by surprise. ‘Oh . . . Really?’

  ‘On the floor,’ he adds.

  My eye studies his eye. ‘The floor.’

  ‘Yeah – the floor.’

  I remove the chain and turn the double lock. ‘I’m soaking wet,’ I warn him as I open the door.

  He stands there, all dark curls and skinny-legged jeans. He has a tray of food and drink at his feet, which he bends to collect. I hold the door open for him and let him pass. It’s a tight squeeze and only the tray prevents us from brushing against each other.

  ‘Grabbed what I could before the Apes ate everything.’

  I let the door close and follow him into the room as he slides the tray onto the large double bed.

  ‘Hungry?’ he asks as he opens a bottle of beer for me. There are crisps and sandwiches and even fruit, which looks like it’s turned a little too ripe now.

  ‘Starving.’

  I bite into the sandwich and it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I have ignored my hunger all day but this thick doorstep-sized cheese and pickle sandwich is the greatest meal of all time. Washed down with cold beer the meal becomes a ravenous feast as I eat and eat and then eat some more.

  ‘God this is good.’

  ‘Michelin star.’

  Johnson sits with his back against the headboard, legs stretched out, just watching me eat and drink.

  ‘I’m sorry I went away,’ he says.

  ‘Wasn’t your fault.’ I’m speaking with my mouth full. Which isn’t polite or sexy. But I don’t care right now. I didn’t realise just how hungry I was.

  I feel a burp rising in my chest, which is so unladylike. I grab the cotton napkin he brought for me and pretend to wipe my mouth while letting a low soundless belch escape into it. Boy, I’m a real catch.

  Johnson watches me for a few more silent minutes.

  ‘Not eating?’ I ask.

  He smiles. ‘There’s not a lot left.’

  I finish a second beer and look down at an empty plate. I’ve even eaten the slushy fruit and barely realised it. Some of the juice dribbles down my chin and I sit there, drenched, wrapped in a Union Jack and fighting a wave of belches. Johnson might think better of staying to watch over me.

  But he doesn’t move apart from raising his arms and linking his fingers behind his head.

  ‘You know, I meant what I said earlier. There’s only one person who can manipulate our minds.’

  He means Other-Johnson.

  ‘He can’t make it snow.’

  ‘You don’t know what he can do.’

  ‘He was as shocked as us at the sight of the Moth Twos.’

  Johnson falls silent for moment. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

  Is he right? Is Other-Johnson playing games with us? Why? Because he’s worried that I’ll go away and never return? So he’s finding ways of keeping me here? Keeping me in peril. Needing help.

  Needing a hero.

  Needing him.

  It makes a terrible sense but I can’t accept it. ‘There’s something else here,’ I tell Johnson. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  He probably thinks I’m being ultra defensive of Other-Johnson but he doesn’t push it.

  ‘I was going to get out of these wet clothes,’ I venture.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  ‘So, if you’re going to sleep on the floor—’

  ‘Which I am.’

  ‘Well, I’ll need to, uh, get in bed.’

  Johnson doesn’t move for a moment. His eyes find mine.

  I clear my throat, and fight another belch that is brewing. How to ruin a moment by Reva Marsalis.

  Johnson unlinks his fingers and swings his legs off the bed. He looks down at the floor. ‘Looks comfortable.’

  I move the empty tray to the bedside table. The double bed now looks too big for one person. ‘Then again . . .’ I start.

  He waits.

  ‘The bed is pre
tty big. We could, uh . . . We could, you know . . .’ My heart has started beating a little faster.

  Still he waits for me to finish.

  I gather my thoughts. ‘I’ll go get undressed and . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘We can re-discuss the sleeping arrangements. If you want to that is.’

  He smiles gently. ‘I’m just trying to be here for you, Rev. I miss the others. I want GG here telling me jokes. I didn’t get to know Carrie that well but I would’ve done. And the Moth and Lucas. We’d have partied on down after this.’

  ‘We so would’ve done.’

  ‘I haven’t been any good, and I want to be, Rev.’

  ‘You’ve been amazing,’ I assure him.

  ‘Going to keep you safe though. Swear on that. Nothing’s going to happen to you.’

  ‘I’ll . . . I’ll take that.’ More gratefully then you’ll ever know, I think.

  He is about to respond when the phone in the room starts ringing. It surprises us both and I gingerly reach for it.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey.’ It’s Other-Johnson. ‘I’m still not operating like I used to. Haven’t used a phone in years.’

  I clear my throat. ‘Must’ve saved on bills.’

  ‘Want me to come round?’

  ‘Uh . . .’

  ‘Keep you company, protect you, be your guard dog.’

  My eyes find Johnson’s. He looks away. He knows who I’m talking to.

  ‘I’m OK,’ I say into the phone.

  ‘I can be there in seconds to kiss you goodnight.’

  I can feel my face burning. I turn away in case Johnson sees. ‘Have you been drinking?’ I ask Other-Johnson.

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Well, you just, you know, stay put. We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Lot of digging to do.’

  ‘I’m lonely. I’m lying in this massive bed and it feels like I’m on a desert island.’ His easy tones and confidence have been boosted by the alcohol. ‘Come rescue me, Rev.’

  ‘No. Sorry.’

  ‘C’mon.’

  ‘Sleep tight,’ I whisper and hang up the phone.

  I turn round to Johnson, only he isn’t there. I crawl over the bed and find him on the floor with a pillow and a quilted throw from the bed.

  ‘Oh,’ I say.

  He nods to me. ‘You said it yourself, big day tomorrow.’

  He settles down and I think back to when I first met Other-Johnson and he told me that my Johnson would never push hard enough, that he’d need to step up if he really wanted to win my heart.

  I don’t know what is holding Johnson back but we seem to get close but never close enough.

  Johnson was up early and filled every pan in the kitchen with water. He used every hob to start boiling all the dry pasta he could find. He had left me to sleep and slipped out of my room. We never did get to share a bed.

  When I finally woke up it was to the sound of a ringing phone, and Other-Johnson was calling me again.

  ‘You dead or asleep?’ he asked.

  ‘Both,’ I said fuzzily.

  By the time I reached the kitchen, what was left of the pasta had boiled dry and stuck to the pan, but Non-Ape was still scooping it out with a huge ladle and letting it slither down his throat. He looks stronger than ever.

  He belches and the Ape belches in return and they are sniggering like naughty schoolkids, and I suppose that’s what they are really. We all are.

  The Johnsons are out assessing the rubble. Both are eager to come home with me and even though I think I know that it has to be Johnson, I have to be on high alert, because after sleeping on it, I’m pretty sure that Other-Johnson can’t be trusted to let that happen.

  The Ape sits down opposite me in the empty dining room and stares at me.

  ‘What?’ I ask him.

  ‘We going home?’

  ‘Eventually. If we beat odds of a billion to one, then yes.’

  ‘We’re staying.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Me and Big Me.’

  We’ve been through this before and there is no way I am leaving the Ape here. He wanted to stay in the empty world all on his own, but now it seems he has a buddy who shares the same thought.

  ‘The plan is he goes back to his world, then we go back to ours. And we have to make sure that we never, not ever, meet again,’ I tell him.

  ‘We’re best mates.’

  ‘So are me and you.’ That comes out so naturally and truthfully it takes me by surprise.

  ‘You’re a girl.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So you’re a girl.’

  I want to reach over and take the Ape’s hand and squeeze it. To not let go until we are back home.

  ‘This world isn’t safe,’ I tell him.

  ‘You think? We’ve been naming our ten best things about this place.’

  ‘There’s ten good things?’

  ‘Well. Six.’

  ‘Six good things?’

  ‘Maybe four.’ The Ape rubs his chest. Which has now taken the brunt of two vehicle crashes in this world alone.

  ‘What are the four good things?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s more like one good thing.’

  ‘So there’s no list,’ I tell him.

  ‘There is a list. A list of one. But it’s written ten times because it’s so good.’

  ‘It’s really, really dangerous here,’ I tell him. ‘I thought it was a nice world but it’s not. It’s evil. It does things to try and kill us. It started off great and full of all the things we need, but that was a trap. I think that’s what it does – it leads you in, it lulls you. It wants you to love it because then it can come and get you when you’re off guard. My dad didn’t come here to find me – he came here to warn me.’ The more I talk, the more I can see the bigger picture. ‘My dad somehow knew that I’d be taken here, or was about to be, and he tried to warn me. This world kills, Dazza. It killed Lucas, it killed Carrie . . . and now, well . . .’ I have to check myself. I start again. ‘It killed . . .’ I can’t say it. I can’t bring myself to say his name.

  The Ape knows I’m talking about GG. At least I think he does.

  ‘That’d be on another list,’ he says quietly. ‘All that would be on a Not Good list.

  ‘It’s not just us it’s killing. It’s them as well. Our copies, doppels, other versions. You have to think of this world like the Colosseum.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘You’ve seen Gladiator?’

  ‘That’s on another list. Top films I never saw.’

  ‘Well, this world is a big fighting arena and it sends lions and tigers and slaves to fight in it.’

  ‘Tigers. Cool.’

  ‘No. No, it’s not cool. People don’t get out alive.’

  Until I voiced this I never even knew I was thinking it, but it’s so obvious. The world is empty because like any other arena it would be. It bends the rules and puts in trapdoors and surprises, but all we’ve done so far is fight. And die.

  ‘We’re never coming back here.’ I say this with absolute conviction.

  ‘But we made a list.’

  ‘Forget the list – please.’

  ‘It’s like we’re in a video game. We love it.’

  Only two Apes could get together and come up with a positive for a world that wants so badly to kill you.

  ‘But this is real,’ I counter. ‘You don’t get killed and then just get up again and start all over. No extra lives.’

  ‘Yeah there are.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Black Moth came back.’ He means Moth Two but Black Moth seems to fit better. Black for their eyes and black for their evil hearts. So Black Moth it is. ‘Then there’s the Other-Lucas. Johnson’s twin.’ The Ape continues counting his fingers. ‘They were dead, now they’re not. See? It’s a game. We’ve been talking.’ The Ape eases back in his chair and the excitement behind his eyes is as bright as the sun. ‘It’s a game we’re good at.’

  I want to arg
ue. I want to grab the Ape and shake him, yell at him. But his logic is so simple and so pure that you can’t bend it or break it or prove how stupid it is because to him it’s perfect.

  ‘We’ve got skills,’ he adds, eyes bright with all kinds of excitement.

  ‘Skilllllllls.’ Non-Ape joins us, his huge form blocking out half the view of the Strand.

  ‘We love it here,’ the Ape repeats.

  ‘Love it,’ Non-Ape echoes.

  ‘I don’t want you to not come home though.’ A lump comes from nowhere and settles in my throat. ‘Who would look after me?’

  The Apes look at one another as if one of them is going to answer.

  ‘I’ll Snapchat you,’ the Ape tells me.

  ‘I dunno if that would work,’ I say. ‘We’d need to ask the Moth that if he wasn’t gone too. But it doesn’t matter because you’re not staying here.’

  ‘You going to stop us?’ Non-Ape asks. Not threateningly for once. More like a child asking his mum if he’s done something wrong.

  ‘If I have to.’ I offer a not very convincing smile.

  ‘Then he comes back with us,’ the Ape tells me. ‘Those are the rules.’

  ‘And we get to come back here,’ Non-Ape adds.

  ‘Whenever we want.’

  ‘That should be on our list,’ Non-Ape emphasises for good measure.

  I can’t make that promise to them so I nod. It’s a pretty weak nod and doesn’t mean anything or have any real guarantee behind it but they seem to think it’s enough. ‘Let’s talk more later.’

  ‘Best game ever,’ Non-Ape says.

  ‘Skilllllllls.’

  ‘Skilllllllls.’

  Non-Ape belches loudly again and the Ape immediately belches a response. It’s true love.

  I lower my voice, leaning closer to them while trying to ignore the lingering belch breath. ‘Let’s make sure we find the Moth and the papers. Then we can work on the other stuff.’

  I don’t like lying to them and I feel terrible that sooner or later I will have to bring their blossoming friendship to an end.

  ‘Listen.’ Non-Ape’s gargantuan head looms towards me; he has more face than anyone I have ever met. ‘You two need to be on constant alert.’