Ugly Little Things

by Todd Keisling

  ***

  “You okay, son?”

  Gregory opened his eyes, squinting at the dark figure standing over him. He squeezed the strap of his backpack to make sure it was still there.

  “Dangerous, you know.” The stranger stepped back and offered his hand. “Sleeping in the terminal, I mean. All manner of folk come through here at all hours. Lost and found, they all come through here.”

  He eyed the stranger’s gesture with caution. After a moment, his vision cleared, and Gregory saw the man’s odd face with harsh clarity. The stranger wore a dusty old suit with fraying seams. He was older, with shiny salt and pepper hair slicked back and tucked behind his ears. The skin of his face was leathery, stretched tight over bone, and his eyes were like two gray pearls submerged in darkened sands.

  “I’m fine,” Gregory said, licking his lips. His gaze fell upon a pair of soda machines on the other side of the terminal. How much money did he have left? He couldn’t remember.

  The stranger twiddled his fingers in the air. “I won’t bite. Just want to help.”

  Gregory hesitated a moment longer before taking the man’s hand. The stranger helped him to his feet. “Thanks,” he said, looping his arm through the backpack’s strap. He checked his iPod for the time but remembered the battery was dead. He looked at the odd man with the sunken eyes. “Do you have the time?”

  The stranger pulled back his jacket cuff and checked his watch. “Quarter past two. You were asleep for an hour.”

  Gregory nodded, took two steps, and stopped. He turned and looked back at the man with the leathery face.

  “What did you say?”

  “You were asleep for an hour. I was watching from over there.” He pointed to a bench fifteen feet away. “Here’s some advice if you’re going to run: you can’t be invisible to everyone all the time. Someone’s always watching.” The stranger held out his hand. “Name’s John.”

  Gregory gaped in stunned silence. His first impulse was to tell this man with the weird face to piss off, but there was distinct calm in John’s voice that disarmed Gregory’s mental alarms. John didn’t mean him any harm; if he did, he would’ve already made his move while Gregory slept. That thought gave Gregory some comfort.

  He reached out and shook John’s hand. “I’m Greg.”

  “Greg, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Always nice to meet another wayward soul at a bus terminal. By the look of you, I’d say your reasons for running are about as good as they get.”

  The flush of Gregory’s cheeks prompted his bruise to throb, and he put his hand to his face instinctively. “Yeah,” he said. “Nice to meet you too.”

  John nodded. “I’m sorry, son. I don’t mean to offend, but that is quite a shiner you’ve got.”

  Gregory blushed. “It’s . . . it’s a long story.”

  “Hey, I understand. Listen, we have a rule where I come from: Always look forward. Never mind what happened. It’s in the past, so let it stay there, you know?” John pulled back his sleeve and took another look at his watch. His knuckles were badly wrinkled, almost as if he’d suffered severe burns in the past. “I’ve got about an hour to kill before my ride shows up. What do you say I buy you a snack?”

  Gregory reached into his pocket and frowned at the loose collection of nickels and dimes. Sixty cents in total. He met John’s gaze and nodded. “All right,” he said. “You’re on, mister.”

  “Wonderful,” John said, his leathery face wrinkling at his cheeks.

  Gregory followed his newfound friend across the lonely terminal, picked out something from the vending machine, and sat down on a nearby bench. He opened his pack of crackers and took a bite. John watched with unblinking curiosity. The way the stranger stared with those sunken eyes unnerved him, and he had a sudden flash of recognition: the man on the bus.

  Gregory swallowed too fast, wincing as the bits of cracker scratched the back of his throat. He coughed, spraying crumbs across the floor. John chuckled.

  “Not all at once, son.”

  “Sorry,” Gregory rasped. He cleared his throat. “Where did you say you were headed again?”

  John smiled. “I didn’t.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is there something you want to ask me?”

  Gregory took another bite of cracker, but not because he was hungry. No, the feeling of hunger had passed moments before, displaced by a leaden weight in his gut. Heat clung to his cheeks now, threatening to suffocate him as he struggled to find the right words. Be cool, a voice spoke in his mind. Just be cool.

  There was something he wanted to ask this strange man, and the words were right there, ready to be given voice, but he was so afraid. He felt like he was in the presence of his father, too afraid to speak, too afraid to move.

  John put his hand on Gregory’s shoulder. “I won’t bite, Greg.”

  Gregory chewed the cracker and swallowed. He took a breath. “Are you the man who was staring at me on the bus?”

  “Of course I am.”

  John spoke so matter-of-factly, so disarmingly that Gregory almost accepted the statement without question—but the look in the stranger’s eye was too gleeful and eager to set his mind at ease. A chill crawled down the back of Gregory’s neck.

  “You—you were watching me?”

  “I was.”

  “So you followed me?”

  “Only as far back as the last stop. You caught my eye immediately. I know a runner when I see one, son. Old John Doe used to be one himself.”

  Gregory blinked. “John Doe? Seriously?”

  “Yes, sir.” He rose to his feet and offered Gregory a short bow. “A genuine Nobody, at your service.”

  Gregory squeezed the strap of his backpack. All of his belongings were in the pack, and if he needed to run—and he might—he didn’t want to leave them all behind. Not that keeping the backpack would do him much good. Aside from his ID, all he had was a change of clothes, an empty wallet, and a dead iPod.

  “Relax,” John Doe said, recognizing the boy’s apprehension. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Isn’t that what you would say if you were going to hurt me?”

  “Touché.” John returned to his seat, leaving a wide space between them. Gregory gripped the backpack, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. “Despite what you may think of me, I have helped thousands of others suffering from the same plight as you.”

  Gregory scoffed. “Same plight? Mister, you don’t even know me.”

  “This is true,” John Doe said. He reached up and scratched at his face. The flesh around his eye sagged from the pressure and made a strange squelching sound which twisted Gregory’s stomach into knots. “But what I do know is enough. I know your name is Gregory Simmons. I know that you’re on the run from your father because he beats you on a daily basis, and last night, he went a little too far because he caught you masturbating to your boyfriend over the internet.” John Doe smiled, revealing yellowed teeth and spotted gums. “Would you say that’s enough? Or should I go on?”

  An icy serpent coiled around Gregory’s insides, squeezing the last breath of air from his lungs. He exhaled in a low, raspy heave as the cloud of heat returned to his face. He suddenly felt like a child lost in the wilderness, yearning for the comfort of his home no matter how broken it was. And yet here he was, hundreds of miles from his comfort zone, facing the real world head on for the first time—and feeling helplessly terrified.

  Gregory stared into John Doe’s sunken eyes. “Who are you?” He swallowed back the ball of cotton in his throat. “What are you?”

  “I told you, Greg. I’m a genuine Nobody. I help all the other Nobodies get from here to there, and sometimes I find Nobodies who don’t realize they’re Nobodies. Sometimes, I find people who want to become Nobodies just like the rest of us.”

  “I don’t understand,” Gregory said, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re nobody?”

  “Ask yourself something, son. Where are you going to go after tonight? Back to you
r father’s home? Or to your boyfriend’s house? Neither one of them want you. All you have is a pocket full of loose change and a bus ticket to the west coast.”

  Gregory turned away. “How do you know that? This doesn’t make any sense, you fucking weirdo.”

  “I know because it’s my business to know. Because it’s my part to play. I help others disappear, and sometimes that means finding those who don’t realize they want to. People like you, I can almost smell your desperation. It’s like overripe fruit, just a bit too sweet and a bit too bruised. No one wants you the way you are. So I’ll ask you again, son: Where are you going to go?”

  He dropped his smile and stared. Gregory looked down at his backpack, running his fingers across the fabric of the strap while a number of sarcastic replies ran through his mind. What could he say? He hadn’t considered Tommy backtracking on everything, and he’d not yet given himself time to grieve over that particular loss. Going back home wasn’t an option now, especially since he’d stolen his old man’s rainy day savings to buy a one-way bus ticket. He could already hear Eddie Simmons shouting loud enough to shake the heavens.

  Like it or not, he was on his own now, and this strange man with the squelching face had a point: No one wanted him. He wished his mom were still alive. She might’ve been upset over what he’d been doing with Tommy, but she wouldn’t have hit him. She would’ve made an effort to understand.

  But that didn’t matter now because she’d been dead for years. Now he was alone, and no one wanted him. No one except Mr. Doe.

  John checked his watch. “In about five minutes, a bus full of other Nobodies is going to pull up to the station, and I’m going to climb aboard. If you come with me, no one’s going to ask for your ticket. You’ll be welcomed. If you join me, Greg, I can make you two promises.” He climbed to his feet and once again held out a wrinkled, leathery hand. “The first is that you can be whomever you want to be, and no one will judge you for what you choose.”

  Gregory wiped tears from his eyes and looked up at John Doe. “And the second?”

  “The second is that everything you are now will never be again. Gregory Simmons will cease to exist. Who you become afterward is up to you, but you can never be you again.”

  Gregory took John Doe’s hand and rose to his feet. “You mean I’ll have a new identity? New ID, name, address?”

  John Doe smiled, and his lips clicked when they slid across his teeth. “Something like that.”

  ***

  The bus arrived on time just as John Doe said it would, and a voice filled the terminal from a series of loudspeakers announcing its departure time. They had ten minutes to board. Gregory stood with his companion on the sidewalk, shivering in the breeze. The storm had let up over an hour ago, but the damp air carried a chill that nipped at his ears.

  John Doe took a breath. “Last chance to change your mind, son. Once you board the Otherland Express, you can’t go back. Everything changes from here on out.”

  “You were right,” Gregory said, clenching his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering, “when you said no one wants me the way I am. I don’t know how you knew, but you were right. There’s nothing waiting for me now.”

  “Have you thought about where you’ll go? This bus will take you wherever you like.”

  He hadn’t, but the answer came easily enough. “I’d still like to visit the west coast. See the ocean. You know, where it’s warm.”

  “West coast it is, then.” John Doe held up his hand and the bus door folded open. He stepped across the sidewalk and stuck his head inside. “Just two tonight, Joe.” He turned back and motioned to Gregory. “Right this way, Mr. Simmons.”

  Frowning, Gregory slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack. “Don’t call me that,” he said. “That’s my father’s name.”

  John Doe nodded. “My apologies, Greg. After tonight, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

  A series of overhead dome lights stretched to the back of the bus, illuminating rows of smiling faces. Men and women of varying ages filled the cabin, and despite the poor lighting, Gregory could see their eyes were sunken into their skulls just like his strange host. Several of the passengers turned to watch as he followed John Doe down the aisle toward the back of bus.

  After he found a seat near the back, Gregory realized his heart was racing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. He thought about what he would tell Tommy, but his heart sank when he remembered how their last conversation had gone. And what was it that John Doe had said? He wouldn’t be himself after this?

  Not that he’d want to pay Tommy a visit anyway. Even though Gregory’s heart ached, somewhere deep down, he knew Tommy lacked conviction. Gregory wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done. It felt good and right, and he’d do it again if given the chance. He wished his old man was there so he could say it to his face.

  But all that will be behind me, he thought. It’s time to look forward.

  John Doe took a seat across the aisle. He raised his hand again, and the bus shuddered into gear. The driver, Joe, came over the loudspeaker. “Good evening, fellow Nobodies. We’ve got some miles to go before our next stop, but before we make our way through the Otherlands, please put your hands together for our newcomer, Greg. He’s the latest to join our tribe!”

  Gregory looked at John and mouthed, Tribe?

  John winked and joined in the applause. “Welcome, Gregory!”

  A pair of older men turned in their seats and congratulated him. “We’ve been Nobodies for more than a decade,” they said. “We joined together, and we make the exchange every few years. It’s great to shed the skin. You’ll love it!”

  Gregory offered a polite smile, unsure of what to say. Joe’s voice boomed from the speaker above: “Now you all know the rules: no shedding until we’ve crossed the boundary lines. We’ve got a long stretch through the Otherlands tonight, so that means you’ve got more time to make your exchange. Until then, find someone you like, someone who’s your type, and get to know them. And remember, people: John Doe gets dibs on the newcomer.”

  He turned to John Doe once more, but his strange friend was conversing with a pair of young women in front of him. Gregory sank back into his seat and watched with mounting trepidation as the bus terminal grew smaller in the distance. Soon, the bus was back on the highway, headed west toward America’s enigmatic Otherlands.

  ***

  They were on the road for an hour before John called out to him. Gregory lifted his head from the window pane and looked across the aisle at Mr. Doe’s silhouette.

  “We’re almost there,” John said. He shuffled across the aisle and sat next to Gregory. “Before we get there, I need to explain something.”

  Gregory sat up in his seat and rubbed his eyes. He’d almost dozed off, lulled to slumber by the rock and hum of the Greyhound. “What is it?”

  John Doe leaned forward and rubbed his hands absently, his head bowed as if in prayer. “The Otherlands is a special place. Things are different there.”

  “Different how?”

  “Different . . . in a lot of ways. You’ll see it. More importantly, you’ll feel it. It’s like being drunk. Your senses are numbed. This place is where you’ll become someone else.”

  Gregory leaned over and whispered into John’s ear, “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on? Whatever it was that Joe was talking about back at the station?”

  “I’m getting to that,” John said. “But I think it may be best to show you. Do you feel that?”

  He wasn’t sure what John was talking about at first, but the sensation that came over him a moment later told him all he needed to know. He lost the feeling in his lips and tongue, followed by the tips of his nose and ear lobes. His fingertips tingled, and his toes were tickled with dozens of phantom pinpricks. Gregory blinked lazily, marveling at the strange purple glow spreading across the sky.

  Outside, the highway melted into an alien landscape pockmarked with gray craters a
nd dotted with maroon vegetation. Trees curved from the earth like tentacles, their branches writhing with wildlife too small to be seen, but somehow, Gregory could sense them, could almost see the vibration of their tiny wings beating the air. He remembered something Tommy had said about experiencing acid for the first time, and he wondered if John Doe had drugged him somehow.

  “Is this—?”

  “It’s real,” John said. His lips peeled back into another toothy grin. “This is where the Nobodies of the world come to commune, Greg. Out here, we get to frolic backstage while the world carries on with its self-importance and loathing. Out here in the Otherlands, we’re free to be ourselves.”

  The bus slowed to a stop in the middle of the gray desert. As if on cue, the passengers erupted into cries of jubilation. The two men in front embraced while the women across the aisle kissed. Gregory marveled at the landscape, wondering how such a place could ever exist, and he was so caught up in the sensations in his body that he didn’t notice the articles of clothing flying through the air.

  John Doe rose from his seat and raised his hand to calm everyone.

  “Friends and fellow Nobodies, tonight we inaugurate a new face into our tribe. He’s a little nervous, but I think that once we strip off our earthly burdens, he’ll feel right at home. After all, we’re all the same beneath the flesh!”

  What happened next left Gregory’s mind reeling, and for the first few terrifying moments, he questioned what he was seeing. The other passengers climbed out of their seats and stripped out of the remains of their clothing. Their naked silhouettes were cast in the dim, purple glow of the world beyond, and when the dome lights came on, Gregory saw that John Doe had joined them.

  “Let me show you,” John said. “Let me show you how to shed the old you.”

  So he did, and Gregory bit his cheeks to stifle a scream.

  John reached up, found a seam behind his ear, and peeled back the mask of his face, revealing the sinuous meat and muscle beneath. He lifted underneath his chin and yanked, stripping the flap of his face from his skull with a single motion. The sound that met Gregory’s ears reminded him of Velcro, and the gaping stare of John Doe’s skinless face made his stomach crawl into itself.