by Tanis Kaige
“I’m not disappointed.”
I studied him, but there wasn’t much to see. A neutral expression and my reflection in his glasses. “Can you get me home?”
“I’ll try. I think I have a bigger problem, though. I’ll need to see my mother.”
“She lives here, too?”
He arched a brow, his lips quirking up into a grin. “Do you know where ‘here’ is?”
I shook my head. It was, indeed, one of the many things I’d been wondering about the past hour. Or morning. Or however long I’d been there.
“This is the other side. The after-life. Welcome to the Underworld, Brenna.”
“Is the sky like this everywhere?”
He sat in the grass next to the duck pond. I was on my back with my head in his lap and my eyes closed. He’d caught me before I’d fainted and laid me down. Now he was stroking my hair and massaging my temples. “Mostly,” he answered. “All the time. A little darker at night. A little brighter in the day. There is one place where the sky is golden, but I’ve never been there.”
“And the air? It’s so still.”
“We can go in. They have fans inside.”
I inhaled slowly. “Am I dead?”
“Nope. That’s the problem, as I see it. You’re very much alive. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you dead?”
He was quiet for a long moment. I opened my eyes, sat up, and turned to face him. His jaw muscles tensed. “I’m not dead like these other people are dead.” He turned toward the café.
“They’re dead? All of them?”
“Everyone you’ve seen is dead. There are other creatures here who were born here. Or created here. Or just always were here. I don’t really know.”
“Then what about you?”
“That’s somewhat complicated.”
“You may as well explain. What else have I got to do?”
“You’ve got to find your door so you can go home.”
“What use is that? My brother and Annie were my only family. What’s to go home to now that they’re in death comas?”
“Ah, yes, the death comas. Well, don’t you worry. We’re going to put that right before you go home. Someone hasn’t been doing his job.”
“Who?”
Kord didn’t answer. He stood and extended his hand, helping me to my feet. He steadied me with strong hands on my waist. “You’re pretty, Brenna. I don’t suppose I noticed when I was a boy.”
“Well, you were a boy. And you were always blindfolded.”
He nodded.
“Why did she keep you that way?”
“Because I preferred not to see everything. Come this way.”
He took my hand again. We walked back through the café and into the market square. We stood in the center. “Hold on to me and close your eyes for this part,” he said, drawing me against him. I put my arms around his neck and found the position appealing. He was warm and strong.
“What are you going to do?”
“Take you shopping. I know a short cut, but you won’t want to look. Keep your eyes tight shut, okay?”
I buried my face in his neck and nodded.
Nothing happened for a moment, but then there was a rush of wind. My skirts flew up, and the wind roared in my ears. It was only a burst, then it was gone, and with it the ground beneath my feet. I realized my feet were dangling in nothing and let out a shriek.
“Shh. Just hold on. And don’t distract me. We do not want to get lost in here.”
“Lost? What happens if we get lost?”
“Shhh.”
I clung to him. It felt like only a few seconds and forever at the same time. And then there was another rush of wind and my feet were touching ground again. Kord let go of me, but I didn’t let go of him. I didn’t trust the ground.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Open your eyes.”
I did, slowly. I let my hands loosen and slide off his neck. We were on a sidewalk. Same sky. Same air. Different place. A city with cars driving up and down the street, four-lanes wide. Taxi cabs honking, what must be a subway rumbling beneath our feet, and tall, towering buildings. “A city,” I murmured.
“The city,” he replied. “New York. No better place to get you some new clothes. Come on.” He led me up the sidewalk. We fell into a stream of people who were walking with purpose toward whatever their destinations were.
“I don’t understand. We’re not in the…the underworld anymore?”
“No, we’re still there.”
“Then how…?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain. These places sort of just form out of the collective memories of the dead. So, like, if only one person had ever seen this city, it probably wouldn’t be here. But when people cross over consistently and in significant numbers and they all have the same memories, that’s when you’ll see cities like this form. Does that make sense?”
I was too busy looking around to answer. I wasn’t from New York and didn’t know the area. Kord led me into a little boutique corner store. The traffic sounds were immediately muffled by the closed glass door. The shop was small and intimate, but had everything from formal-wear to jeans. There were no other customers inside. The proprietress came forward, a pretty woman with big, white teeth and sparkling eyes.
“Welcome!” she said. “Is there something I can help you find?” She looked me up and down. I suppose if we’d been in the real city she’d have been more startled at my nineteenth century garb. As it was, she looked merely slightly disgusted. Then she turned her eyes to Kord. Her lips parted, her hands flew to her heart. “Kord? Is it you?”
“The one and only.”
She launched herself into his arms and took his mouth with hers, kissing him like a starving person. She climbed his body and wrapped her legs around his waist, making animal noises the whole time.
Not sure what to do, I stepped a little further from his side. He certainly wasn’t pushing her off of him. Although, he did manage to calm her down, stroking her hair and slowing her kiss. At last, she set her feet on the floor, though she continued gazing longingly up at him. “This is my friend, Brenna,” he said. “Brenna, this is…remind me?”
“Sharon,” the woman said, clearly not offended in the least.
“Sharon.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Kord’s, though. The disgusting display had put me off him. Maybe he wasn’t the dashing hero I’d assumed him to be.
“Sharon, would it be all right if Brenna got herself a new wardrobe?”
Sharon slid her hands all over his chest and shoulders. “If you give me something in return.”
“Of course,” he said. He looked to me and gestured to the store. “Help yourself. Take what you need. Perhaps a couple days’ change of clothes and a bag to put them in. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He led Sharon to the back of the shop. I jogged after them, catching up to them in a short hallway that led to the backdoor and a set of stairs. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“Upstairs,” Kord said. “I’ll be back shortly.”
He followed Sharon up the stairs. I heard a door open and shut. Apparently I was supposed to shop while he was upstairs making whoopee with the saleslady.
The sick feeling in my stomach cast a pall over what might have otherwise been a pleasant experience. After all, I had free rein in a clothing store. I found bras and panties, jeans, t-shirts, a cute denim jacket, and the perfect boots—functional yet adorable. I changed there in the store. I’d have liked a shower, but I sure wasn’t going upstairs to ask Sharon for hers. She was likely going to need it herself, soon.
After I dressed, I gathered a few more articles of clothing and put them in a small, leather overnight bag I found next to the handbags and boots. As I was situating the strap over my shoulder, Kord reappeared, without Sharon. “All set?” he asked.
“Yes. Do we need to pay, or was that what you just did?” There was no avoiding the bitterness in
my tone.
His lips quirked into a half-grin. “Jealous?”
“Hardly. I just think it’s completely inappropriate. And a little disgusting.”
He frowned and nodded thoughtfully. “I can see how you might feel that way. Let’s go to my place.”
“What? No way. I don’t know what you think this is, but I’m not interested in whatever it was you gave to Sharon.”
He barked a laugh. “Good to know where you stand. But we need to go to my place so I can pack my bag. We’ve got a journey ahead of us. Besides, I need to check my maps. I haven’t been to see my mother in a long time, and things change.”
My shoulders sank. “Okay,” I said, deflated.
He took my hand to lead me out, but I pulled away. I didn’t think it was such a good idea getting too close to him. I followed him out onto the sidewalk. “I live a few blocks away. Listen, you don’t have to hold my hand right now, but it’s best going forward. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“What happens if I get lost?”
He shook his head. “There’s creatures along the edges. Scavengers of a sort. It’s best to stay on the established paths.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I didn’t want to find out. I slipped my hand in his and allowed him to lead me toward his apartment.
We sat at a round table. The wood finish was chipped. He said he found it on the sidewalk. The chairs didn’t match. The apartment was a studio, so across the room was a full-sized bed with the blankets all a mess. Socks on the floor. A weird smell coming from the refrigerator. All-in-all a typical slovenly bachelor pad.
Kord had a map spread out on the table. I don’t know what I’d expected. Perhaps something digital. Maybe a current atlas. This was a yellowed map with words in languages I didn’t know. The edges were tattered and singed. The paper was more of a fabric. Everything one might expect in a pirate map.
Kord had taken his sunglasses off, and I was torn between staring at the map and staring at his eyes. “I think the fastest we could get there is tomorrow night. But I sure as hell don’t want to see her at night. So we’re looking at two nights on the road. We can spend tonight in King’s Hall, you’ll like that.” He cast a grin up at me before returning his focus to the map. “Great tourist place. Then I don’t know, we might have to sleep in the car tomorrow night. Oh, wait…maybe the Weird Sisters will put us up. Yeah, that would be better.”
I didn’t know what any of it meant, but he seemed satisfied with his plan and began folding the map. He put his glasses back on and tucked the map into a leather folder, tied a leather chord around it, and tucked it into his backpack. He stood and went to his dresser. He shoved some clothes into his backpack before going into the bathroom, I assumed to gather any toiletries he might need on the road.
Someone knocked on the front door.
He came out, crossed the room, and opened the door without checking the peephole. Two women stood there, arms around each other’s waists. “Hey, Kord,” they said in unison.
Kord smiled as he dropped his head forward, like a man defeated who didn’t really mind being defeated. “Jenny. Elizabeth. I’m just about to go on a trip.”
The women stuck out their bottom lips and moaned. “Can’t you give us just a few minutes?” the darker of the two asked.
Kord glanced back at me. “Brenna, these are my neighbors. Girls, this is Brenna.”
The women waved at me without malice. Given what I assumed they were here for, I’d have expected jealousy on their parts. But it wasn’t there. On my end, however, there was definitely something. If not jealousy, a deep, righteous indignation.
“We haven’t seen you in so long,” one of the women said.
“Who knows when we’ll see you again,” said the other.
Kord let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. All right. Brenna, you might grab yourself something to eat. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Before I could object, he slipped out the door. I heard the muffled sound of the women’s giggling before a door shut and there was nothing left but silence. I stood staring at the door for the longest time before giving myself a shake and checking the kitchen. We’d just eaten, but I was a little hungry again. Not hungry enough to eat the stuff growing in Kord’s refrigerator. I checked the pantry and found a spider and a tipped-over, open box of cereal.
I decided I wasn’t hungry after all. Kord had a bookshelf on the wall opposite his bed. The books were crammed and stacked in it haphazardly. Among them were several black, hardbound journals lined up neatly. ten of them, to be precise. One for each year since Kord had disappeared from that house as a little boy.
I took one at random and sat on his bed to read it. It was from the year he turned nineteen. As I skimmed, I witnessed a sort of time-lapse view of mundane life in the underworld. What he had for breakfast. The neighbor he had to help move the day before. The girl who flirted with him in the coffee shop.
It all seemed so normal. The neatly formed print perfectly aligned and even. But not all the pages were like this. I stopped when I found a section full of haphazard scrawl falling off the lines and filling up the page from edge-to-edge like the hand of a mad man.
…I can’t wash the air off no matter how hard I scrub, this place clings to me like a parasite. How long have I been here? How long have I been here? How long have I been here?…
This went on for a full page.
There’s no end when you can’t even slit your wrists or pull a trigger or swallow some pills. The only thing worse than here is where she is and even then, if I thought it would be an end I’d go there. If I thought I’d sleep peacefully for all eternity, I’d gladly go there. The living should rejoice in their ignorance. They think they’ll die and that’ll be the end. How happy it must be, believing in an end. I’d go mad, here, but what would be the point?
I flipped further back.
It occurs to me that I’ll never really know if the version of Great Expectations I’m reading is the real version. It was only assimilated out of the memories of the dead, and perhaps their memories aren’t perfect. Does Dickens himself even fully remember what he wrote? Perhaps even with all of them remembering, there are still holes…gaps…flaws. What would it even mean if I were reading the real thing? Would that be real? Perhaps the living world is still yet another layer of existence. Perhaps there was more before it, a higher state of living and we just keep falling and falling through the layers forever…
I stood and replaced the book. I grabbed the most recent volume. But no, this one wasn’t the most recent. I turned and saw a book on his nightstand. Of course it would be there, he would still be writing in it. I picked it up, sat back down on the bed, and opened it to the most recent entry. It wasn’t one of the rambling scrawls. It was a neatly penned documentation of his thoughts and actions.
Need to go shopping today. My refrigerator is empty. There’s so little pleasure in food.
I think I’ll go over to the tavern, tonight, and play cards and drink beer. It’s been a while and those guys are always a lot of fun to be around. There’s Margaret, too. If she’s sober, maybe I’ll get lucky.”
I slammed the book shut. No doubt if there’d been a mirror in front of me, I’d see myself sneering in derision. He was getting lucky right now. It didn’t appear he had a problem finding bedfellows here in the underworld. Not that it was any of my concern.
I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. It couldn’t be more than early afternoon, yet I felt like I’d been awake for days.
Perhaps I only drifted, or maybe it was a long nap, but I was awakened by a hand gently shaking me. “Brenna, we need to go.”
“Where?” I asked, still reorienting myself.
“King’s Hall. I took a little longer with the girls than I expected and we need to get to our destination before nightfall.”
Stiffly I sat up and swung my legs off the bed. “I was under the impression that night didn’t fully fall, here.”
&n
bsp; “It’s not the darkness I’m concerned about. There are nocturnal creatures. Most people know to be inside and locked down by the time the light dims. Are you ready?”
I gathered my bag, checked the little pocket on the side to make sure the key was still there, and slung it over my shoulder. “You sure the ‘girls’ will be okay without you?”
His arrogant smirk might have been charming if I weren’t so disgusted by his behavior.
I followed him out the door, which he locked closed behind us, and then onto the streets. “We’ll need a car,” he muttered.
We strolled up the sidewalk. The street was lined with cars and, upon closer inspection, I saw that there was quite a variety of makes and models. Ordinary sedans, expensive German cars, vintage muscle cars—even a Model T, or something that looked very similar.
“Excuse me, sir?” Kord said.
I bumped into Kord as he’d stopped rather abruptly. My attention turned from examining the street. There was a gentleman of middle age wearing a suit climbing into his BMW. “Yes?”
“I wonder if I might trade you something for the use of your car.”
The man chuckled. “I don’t think so, son. I doubt there’s anything you have that could separate me from my baby.”
“It’s a very comfortable looking car. But I do have something you’ll want.”
Kord, who had been holding my hand, let go of my hand and stepped closer to the man. He slipped his hand in the man’s, taking hold of it. He pressed close and whispered something in the startled man’s ear.
The man’s face went from startled to confused to…hopeful. His eyes filled with tears, his mouth dropped. “You can?” he said. “You can give me that?”
Kord stepped back, releasing his hand, and smiled. “Yes. But you must promise not to tell anyone. For if you do, I’ll be overwhelmed and unable to share with you as much.”
The man nodded frantically. “Yes, yes of course. It would be our secret. Only, it seems so impossible.”
“Let us drop you off at your home. I’ll go in with you and show you. Then we’ll borrow your car.”
“Yes,” said the man. “Okay. If you can do that, then yes, you can have my car.”