The Gulp

by Alan Baxter

“Okay.”

  She gave his hand a squeeze and hurried away. She didn’t dare glance back, knowing he’d be watching her go, hangdog eyes and a slight rounded curve to his shoulders. He would have to fortify and deal with it, she had more pressing concerns.

  When she got home the house seemed quieter than it had ever been, still and somehow extra empty. She went around and opened all the curtains, made sure light flooded every room, opened all the windows too and let the late summer breeze blow through. She’d get the vacuum-cleaner out and go over every floor before dinner.

  Then she stood outside the only door in the house still closed.

  Twice she reached for the door handle but chickened out. Her fingers shook.

  “Come on, Madeleine,” she told herself.

  She clenched her teeth, building up her courage. She didn’t want to know, wished she could just walk away from it all. No one should have to deal with any of this. But that wasn’t an option, this was her life right now, and she had to live it. She blew out a quick breath, then swung the door open before she could stop herself.

  “Fuck me!”

  The fungus covering her mother had grown exponentially. None of the woman’s body was visible any more, just a rolling, undulating mass of huge rounded mushrooms in a vaguely human shape filling more than half the old double bed. It was so white, such pure, unblemished paleness.

  Maddy crept forward, sniffed tentatively. The stink of sickness and death was almost non-existent, but it had been replaced with an earthy, fungal scent. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not entirely natural. Or perhaps super-natural, like an artificially created facsimile of what a mushroom should smell like. Super-real.

  On the old armchair in the corner of the room, a wire coat hanger lay atop a pile of clothes her mother would never wear again. Maddy took it and used one rounded end to prod at the nearest bulge of fungus, her mother’s right foot buried somewhere deep within. That same tough but pliant exterior, the same cushioned softness under pressure. She didn’t dare push hard enough to split the skin of it again.

  “What is happening?” she whispered to herself.

  The whole mass shivered.

  Maddy squealed and ran backwards, bumped into the wall. It shivered again, a vibration rippling through, then it settled. Maddy’s body shook with horror, imagining the whole thing splitting open like one of those puffball mushrooms she’d seen on a nature doco, a dusty cloud of spores bursting from it.

  She felt behind herself for the door as she sidled along the wall, not taking her eyes from the corpulent white mass. She slipped out of the room and closed the door.

  When Zack got home a little while later, she was sitting on the sofa staring at some rubbish commercial television show. She genuinely had no idea what it was, what it was even about. She’d been in some kind of fugue state, just waiting.

  Zack dropped his bag in the hallway by his bedroom door then came to join her, sitting on the edge of the armchair. “Haven’t stopped thinking about it all day.”

  She laughed softly. “Me either. It’s worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “Or better, maybe. Depending how you look at it.”

  They opened the door, shoulder to shoulder to see in. The mass had pushed the bedclothes aside as it grew, a parody of a cloud sat atop the mattress. It covered two-thirds of the bed, vaguely ovoid with an undulating surface. The light above reflected off it, so bright, so white.

  “It looks so...” Zack frowned, searching for a word. “Clean,” he said eventually.

  “What’s happening to her in there?” Maddy said. “That’s what I can’t stop thinking about. Like, is it consuming her flesh? Will there be nothing but polished bones inside eventually? Or will it take the bones too? And then what?” The memory of her previous thoughts came back to her. The idea had been haunting her since the thing shivered so suddenly. “Will it fucking spore?”

  “Fungi are eukaryotic organisms,” Zack said, monotone like a newsreader.

  “What?”

  “I’ve spent all afternoon in the school library, reading, memorising. Fungi are eukaryotic organisms such as yeasts, moulds, and mushrooms. Some fungi are multicellular, while others, such as yeasts, are unicellular. Most fungi are microscopic, but many produce the visible fruitbodies we call mushrooms.”

  “Fruitbodies?”

  Zack pointed at the bed. “That’s what it is. Growing out of her, that’s the fruitbody of the fungus. And it’s what produces the spores.” His voice dropped into the reciting tone again. “Unlike plants, fungi can’t produce their own food and have to feed like animals, by sourcing their own nutrients.”

  “Jesus, Zack, you’re not helping.” He’d always been able to read and recite like this. It was funny sometimes. Now it was decidedly creepy. “So some microscopic fungus found her and fruited while feeding on her? I guess we kinda figured that already. So what?”

  Zack shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought learning about it might help, but you’re right. So what? It’ll spore by bursting or scattering in some way, some use animals to carry the spore, most use the wind. I guess what I’m thinking is that maybe it’ll feed on Mum until there’s nothing left and then it’ll wither and die or something, and it may or may not spore in the meantime. But I think we should just leave it alone. Shut the door. Maybe block the gap at the bottom with a towel or something and leave the window open.”

  “And then what?”

  “Just fucking forget about it, Mads. For, like, a week or something. We can always go around the back, I suppose, peek in at the window, but I don’t know if I dare. Maybe give it a month, then check? Perhaps everything will be over then, and she’ll be gone. Or just bones and we can think of a way to bag them up and get rid of them.”

  Maddy thought of her fishing boat idea again. It would be even easier if it was just the woman’s bones. Stack them in an esky and carry it to the harbour. Easy. She reached in and turned out the bedroom light, dropping the room into gloom broken only by the wan glow through the thin curtain. The fungal mass on the bed was still bright, almost luminescent it was so pale.

  She looked at Zack and he nodded, so she closed the door. Zack turned to the hallway cupboard, rummaged in the bottom for one of the old towels and rolled it up into a snake that he pressed against the bottom of the door.

  “So that’s it?” Maddy asked.

  “I reckon. Just forget about it now. For a while.”

  Maddy glanced at the closed door. “Is there anything in there we need?”

  “Nah. I took it all weeks ago. Got all the paperwork, her few bits of jewellery, all that stuff is in my room. All that’s in there are her clothes. And some books.”

  Maddy nodded. “Okay then. So that’s that. For now.”

  “For now,” he agreed.

  “I want to clean the house,” Maddy said.

  Zack smiled. “I was thinking the same thing. Three bedrooms, bathroom, lounge, kitchen, hall. It’s not much.” He went to his bag, reached inside and pulled out a large blue plastic bottle, held it up. “Sugar soap. Mix it with a bucket of water to clean the walls. Cuts through grease and grime, and it’s got a mould protection in it too.”

  “That seems definitely worthwhile right now.” They laughed nervously, then Maddy said, “But two bedrooms. For now. We’re leaving hers alone, remember.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I’ll vacuum and dust, wipe all the surfaces. There’s bleach under the sink. You do the walls.”

  “Gonna do the ceilings too. With a mop.”

  Maddy gave her brother a crooked smile. “Fucking look at us, eh?”

  They busted their arses for hours, taking turns to crank music from their phones through Maddy’s Bluetooth JBL speaker. The focus seemed to be something they both needed, the physical labour of it taking up the nervous energy they’d been carrying. Maddy thought maybe the tensions and anxieties had been building for weeks, as their mother’s illness quickly deteriorated from ongoing sickness to
terminal decline. Then the actual death and rapid-fire shocks since had left them both shaken. Working hard, taking control of something, was like medicine.

  It was nearly 9 p.m. when they both collapsed onto the couch, sweaty and dishevelled, and absolutely spent. Zack ordered in pizza with their mother’s credit card, and they stared at the TV until it arrived. Starving, they devoured it in minutes, then watched more TV without talking. There was nothing to say, no need to plan or discuss. They were simply getting on with it. Maddy had some reservations, wondering if it was entirely wise to ignore the thing growing on their mother. She had occasional visions of it blooming to fill the room, bulge against the door until it burst, billowing in great rolls out the open window.

  But she shook those thoughts away. It wouldn’t come to that. If it did need more attention, maybe in a week or two, they’d decide then. Not now. They’d done enough for the time being. Their mother had just died, after all. Let them enjoy that for a while first.

  She noticed Zack nodding off, chin on his chest, and gave him a prod. “Let’s go to bed. School tomorrow. And I’m working eight till six.”

  He nodded and dragged himself off. The house gleamed, it almost looked like they’d redecorated more than cleaned it. The mould stains and scuff marks were gone, the floor was free of lint and grit and all manner of small detritus that had gathered. It smelled fresh, slightly lemon-scented from the cleaner Maddy had used on all the benches and tables tops.

  Zack hugged her and went into his room and she went into hers. It felt like a new start.

  They got up the next morning and it was like a house transformed. Zack looked with pride at the clean walls and ceilings. They were still old, paint peeled in places, but the blooms of black, spotted mould were gone. The cobwebs and various unidentified marks were gone. Dust and dirt had been vacuumed from the corners and edges. With late summer sunlight coming in through all the windows, the place gleamed. The windows were grimy though.

  “We got any Windex?” he asked Maddy as they ate breakfast.

  “Under the sink.”

  “Cool. After school, I’m going to clean all the windows too. And on the weekend, let’s tidy up the garden. Shall we make a couple of veggie beds?”

  Maddy laughed. “Sure, why not!”

  He did his best not to think about the closed room. He especially tried not to think about the sensation of a whispering voice that had seemed to drift from that room while he tried to sleep the night before. He’d been bone-tired from all the housework, his mind abuzz with missing his mother, so surely it was just his tired brain freaking out a bit. He was glad she was gone at last but couldn’t help grieving for the mother she could have been. Imagine if she’d been even ten percent the mother Mrs Brady was. Josh had no idea how lucky he had it.

  But he still heard her voice.

  Help me, Zacky.

  And

  I need something, Zacky-boy.

  Like it was coming through the wall from her room to his. Cajoling, that familiar edge of demand to it as always. Perhaps he should tell Maddy he could hear her. But she’d think he was mad.

  Zack left the house and headed down the hill, then left and right onto Tanning Street. Josh was waiting for him at the usual spot and they fell into step together heading up Tanning towards the servo, then right to the high school at the top of the hill.

  “What’s new?” Josh said after a few minutes of companionable silence.

  “Same old,” Zack said.

  “Your mum any better?”

  “Nah, she won’t get any better.” Zack paused, licked his lips. “I think me and Maddy’ll be looking after her forever.”

  “Well, not forever,” Josh said. “Parents get old and die.”

  “I guess. Seems like forever, that’s all.”

  A few more minutes of silence passed as they scuffed along, then Josh said, “My dad asked me to ask you something.” He sounded uncomfortable.

  “Yeah?”

  “Said did you want him or mum to come over? Talk to your mum?”

  Zack startled, but quickly gathered himself. “Nah, man. What for? Talk about what?”

  Josh made patting motions with both hands. “It’s all good, dude. I told them it was a stupid idea, but they insisted I ask you.”

  “But talk about what?”

  “I think they wonder if your mum needs any help or anything. Like, grown-up help.”

  Zack laughed, tried to make light of it. “We’re not kids any more, mate. Tell ’em it’s all fine, we’ll be good. She’s getting help anyway. Doctors and shit.” His mother had refused to ever see a doctor, but Josh didn’t know that. Or need to know.

  “I’ll tell them.”

  They walked on, got to school, went through the drudgery of high school bullshit. But Zack spent the whole time concerned about how much interference there might be from Mr and Mrs Brady. He decided they needed a contingency story. He’d talk to Maddy about it later. Those useless cousins in Bega his mum sometimes talked about might need to become a little more involved. Nobody else knew his mum hated them. Zack himself didn’t even know if they were real, but that didn’t matter. The concept was useful. If the Brady’s, or anyone else, came sniffing around, he and Maddy could say their mum had gone to see her cousins for a few days.

  At lunch when he was allowed to take his phone out of his locker, he sent a garbled message about it to Maddy. She replied, What? He texted, Talk about it later

  An hour after Maddy got the text from Zack she realised what he meant. Her brother was rubbish at expressing himself. But yes, having a ready-made story about their mum away visiting cousins in case people came around was a good idea. It was a little disturbing how easily they were slipping into the new role they’d made for themselves. Except for the white mass blooming in the bedroom. Try as she might, Maddy couldn’t get it out of her mind.

  She was tired after work and though Dylan rang and asked her if she still wanted to go see Blind Eye Moon at the Vic, she blew him off. She apologised, and she meant it, but she needed to start distancing herself. And she genuinely wanted to spend time with Zack in the new clean house that was finally theirs. She went home and Zack wasn’t there. She texted and he said he’d gone to Josh’s after school but would come home for dinner. He hadn’t done the windows after all, but would do it on the weekend. She smiled. The great fervour to clean and take over the house had burned out as quickly as it had ignited, but that was okay. They’d done enough for now.

  An hour later they made dinner together and talked about the visiting cousins in Bega story. It came together easily, really not much detail required. Then they watched movies on Netflix and drank from a bottle of Kraken rum Maddy had bought from the bottle shop behind Clooney’s on her way home. Zack even did the dishes before he went to bed, and they both crashed out about midnight, both more than a little drunk, both giggling.

  Life, Maddy ruminated as she lay in her clean sheets, freshly laundered, was actually not so bad at last.

  Don’t think about that pale thing in the bed...

  The booze helped sleep along and she sank into blissful ignorance of the world.

  The next day was Saturday and Maddy had one Saturday in four off. This was one of them. A rare alignment of planets where her two days off were actually the weekend and she could hang out with all her other working mates, and the few still in high school heading towards their HSC. Maybe even heading towards university and a ticket out of The Gulp.

  Dylan rang and said two carloads were heading into Monkton, going to the Plaza to shop and goof off, probably stay for the evening and a movie. Did she want to tag along? She said she did and it was a good day. Fun was had, there were enough other mates around that she could keep Dylan a little bit at arm’s length without it seeming weird. The movie was rubbish, but that didn’t really matter. Late, after the film and a couple of drinks at the Monkton Tavern, where most of them got carded, but thankfully not Maddy, Dylan drove her, Pete and Jonathan home. Pete and J
onathan sat in the back canoodling, and Maddy sat in the front passenger seat, watching the trees flicker by in the moonlight. The other four had elected to stay longer, drink more. They’d probably drag themselves home in the shameful light of dawn and have ribald tales to tell. Maddy wasn’t in the mood.

  Pete and Jonathan wanted to get back to Pete’s place for obvious reasons, and she thought Dylan was probably entertaining similar ideas. Once he’d dropped the two blokes off, he turned to Maddy and grinned, soppy and kinda goofy.

  “My place?”

  She smiled, but shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m really tired. Can you drop me home?”

  He visibly deflated, but tried to put a brave face on it. “Sure.” He paused a moment, then said, “Is everything all right? With you... With us?”

  Break up with him, her mind said firmly. Do the right thing. Look at him, poor fucker. Don’t be mean and drag it out. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, short term pain then it’s all over and everyone is okay. Though by the look in his eyes, he would not be okay.

  “Maddy? Are we okay?”

  She nodded. “Sure, of course. I’m just really tired and... well, Mum has been kinda hard work lately. It’ll ease off soon, I know it will, but I don’t want to leave it all for Zack, you know?” You chickenshit loser, she told herself.

  He smiled, clearly relieved. “Well, of course. That makes sense.”

  Poor bastard, she thought. So trusting.

  “You want me to help?” he asked. “Anything I can do? I could come around and, I don’t know. Help. I’ve never been inside your place.”

  And you never will, sweet Dylan. “No, really, it’s fine. Mum’s going to visit her cousins soon anyway, the break will do her good and it’ll be nice for me and Zack to have a break.”

  Dylan frowned. “I thought she was aggro... something phobic... too scared to leave the house.”

  “Agoraphobic. Yeah, she is. Which is why we’re not pushing but slowly convincing her to go on this trip. Her cousin will come to pick her up and everything. Hopefully. We’ll be okay. Just drop me home, yeah?”

  “Okay.”