by Micah Thomas
Henry made himself comfortable and flopped his pants over the chair. “You want a drink? You look like you could use a drink.”
“Yes. Please,” Thelon said, watching from the bed as Henry rummaged through the mini-fridge.
Henry offered him a glass with two mini-bottles of whiskey poured into it.
“What about you?” Thelon asked and took his drink, which even as it reached his hands made him feel better.
“I’m not particularly invested in my own sobriety or anything, but as my own counselor, do not recommend drinking at this time. Maybe tomorrow.” He paused and after a deep breath said, “Look, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
Fuck. He wants to talk about what happened out there. “What would you know about it? Got a psych degree you didn’t tell me about?” Thelon kicked back against the pillows.
Henry joined him. The bed was so big he’d have to stretch out his arms completely for them to touch. “No, but my mom was crazy. I guess that’s insensitive. I’ll say it like this: she was institutionalized.”
Thelon kicked off his shoes. “Don’t you have any happy stories?”
“Thelon, my man, I don’t know, but this one is lights off in case I cry.” Henry turned out the light so the room was only lit by the Vegas strip outside, beaming artificial cheer through the window.
“Okay, so your mom was in a hospital,” Thelon said in the dark, taking another long sip of his drink.
“Yeah, she was a drunk, an addict, and suffered from bipolar disorder. When she did have custody of me, some mornings were great—like, ice cream for breakfast great. She’d be in high spirits, but something was off. You know? Moving too fast. Too excited. And if I didn’t quite seem happy enough with whatever the hell she was doing, my little eyes didn’t light up enough, she could turn evil instantly. Screaming—no, shrieking at me. She would hit me over the head with a broom handle or with her knuckles.” Henry paused and rolled over.
Thelon waited, glad it was dark and not sure what to say.
“If she bruised her hand hitting me, she cried. ‘Look what you did to me.’ ‘It hurts.’ ‘You hurt me.’ And her face would be that of a wounded child. It all came to a head one day when she decided she was going to kill herself but kill me first. Clearly, she didn’t succeed, but she did wind up in the nut house. Before they took me away to the farm, they let me visit her. Ever been in a place like that?”
“No.” Thelon’s own bullshit—in this life or any other—had never been so bad. I’m out here whining and crying but I always had regular meals, clean clothes, and a loving family. “No, man. I never saw anything like that.”
“The place smelled like bleach. Looked like a hospital. And it was a nightmare. I kept my eyes down because the faces in there, patients and orderlies, were all so sad. They unlocked a door and there she was sitting on a tiny bed by the window, looking scared and wearing that ugly patient uniform. There’d be no more lies to social workers this time; they were taking me away and this was goodbye. It was brief. A hug like embracing a manikin. Then I was gone, away from that medicated thousand-yard stare.”
Henry turned towards Thelon, face resting on the pillow, cheeks wet. “All this is to say, nobody is really crazy. Some people are sick. I don’t think you are either. I saw what you saw. We’re in something real and I’ll see it through with you.”
Thelon realized something then. Henry is not just some wacky character I picked up to complete a quest. He’s a real person with hidden depths, carrying immense sadness. I should say something comforting. Something deep.
He settled on, “Goodnight, Henry.”
~
THELON HEARD HIS own voice shouting, “Don’t push me!”
His vantage point hovered slightly above and to the left of his body. Information trickled in, each data point more of a shock than the last. He was standing. He was outside. He was fighting with Henry.
“Why? You gonna get mad and turn into the Hulk? Fuck you.” Henry shoved Thelon hard in the center of his chest. Thelon’s perception fell with his body as it lost balance and hit the ground.
Again, as if out of another person’s mouth, he heard himself say, “I said, don’t fucking push me.”
His body didn’t bother wiping the gravel stuck in his palms, which bled and hurt as he jumped back up and shoved Henry with enough force to send him to the dirt. Appearing shocked, Henry stayed down. Thelon watched as his body knelt on top of Henry’s chest. “You tough now?”
With that, Thelon’s mental-self slid sideways and with a snap he fully inhabited his body again, completely and painfully aware that he was awake.
What the fuck am I doing? This was the first physical fight Thelon had ever experienced. His mouth had both gotten him into and out of trouble his whole life, but he couldn’t imagine a reason to beat up Henry. Before he could get off Henry, Thelon’s arms twitched as jolts like electricity tensed his muscles in succession. He rolled to his side and slapped his legs which rang his nerves with pins and needles.
“There you are,” Henry said with a wheeze. “You weren’t behind your eyes for a minute.”
“Hooo.” Thelon struggled for balance.
“You bet,” Henry replied and got to his feet.
“Where are we?” Thelon looked around at the desert twilight, unsure if it was early morning or evening. The sky was full of stars and dark, but there was a streetlight, the sidewalk, and more lights a mile away where the strip was located.
“Thelon…man, you are something else. Middle of the night, you got up and left the motel. Left the door wide open. Didn’t even notice me following you.” Henry dusted off his butt and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, dislodging tiny rocks and sand. “I didn’t know if you were sleepwalking or having a vision quest, but you were a dick.”
Palm trees at night. Black against the stars. Stretching up and out. Thelon’s thinking drifted towards the weird again. Not relaxed, but distant. He sensed a warm breeze against his face and half closed his eyes as shivers wracked his body.
Henry’s mouth went slack and he even as he yelped in terror, Thelon didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Time. Time. Nestor, T, and me. All these worlds and a hole. Pieces bleeding through me. Thelon stretched his senses. He was reaching out and feeling the lines of the world. Data packets moving across a network of all things. A glut of something passed down, like a thick milk shake through a straw, and stuck in him. He gasped for air but could not breathe.
Henry watched as Thelon dematerialized before him. He rubbed his eyes, looked over his shoulder, rubbed his eyes raw with his knuckles. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”
Then he was back. Even with his eyes closed, Thelon could hear Henry sucking in a quick breath. You and me both, buddy. He glanced over at Henry, seeking confirmation that this wasn’t a dream. Henry blinked rapidly. He looked like a gear had sprung loose in his brain. Poor guy. I’m fucking him up. Thelon’s thinking parts experienced a profound confusion. Why are we outside? But thinking was a function a million miles away, unimportant to him. Thelon almost remembered something, but it faded too fast. He saw Henry crouched by his side, arms wrapped around himself and rocking slightly.
“Did you hit me again?” Thelon asked, voice childlike.
“No, no. I didn’t hit you, man. Welcome back again.” Henry laugh-cried and helped Thelon up again.
“I came out here?” Thelon asked more himself than Henry.
“I didn’t want you stepping in front of traffic. Don’t fucking ignore the issue. Don’t say some other shit about other shit. What just happened? Right now. Forget the sleepwalking. What did I just see?”
“I was disappearing.”
“You bet. Keep going.”
“You hit me.”
“Not at first. I tried talking to you. Dude, you’re killing me with this.”
“Did I say anything interesting?” Thelon’s stomach cramped. He feared he’d shit his pants. He bent over and clutched his stomach.
Henry laughed and patted h
im on the back. “Okay. I get it. You’re fucked up right now. One drink and you lose yourself. Let’s go back to our room. There’s no sense in fucking around out here unless we want to buy drugs, get shot, or get arrested or something.”
A strange shuffling sound caught their attention. Thelon tapped Henry on the shoulder and pointed out beyond the reach of the streetlight. A figure shambled towards them with an odd, broken step.
“We don’t want any!” Henry shouted. “Fucking crack heads. I can say that because I was one.”
“Uh, I don’t…” Where Thelon expected a face, he saw a mass of greasy locks. Then it hit him what was so strange: the figure walked backwards. Impossible.
It picked up speed. Thelon’s attention fixated on the hair, then on the bony shoulder blades, working in time together as the thing swung its sinewy bare arms.
“Henry. We should go,” he said with a panicked urgency in his voice. The phone buzzed in his pocket.
Henry slowly nodded in agreement but didn’t move.
He’s caught in it, too. Oh, God.
Thelon raised the phone to his ear, forgetting his anxiety about keeping it secret.
RUN! Nestor screamed into Thelon’s brain.
“Right ahead of you, boss,” Henry said, and Thelon realized he’d screamed to run as well.
Together, they turned away, fighting the terrible pull of the shuffling figure. The gravity it held on their attention was so strong it bent light until the world stretched , but they managed to wrench their eyes forward and run.
Thelon heard Henry’s breathing and their own footfalls as they left the glow of the streetlight and sprinted into the shadows down the street. He desperately wanted to reach the next patch of light for whatever small comfort it could provide. They were further from the hotel than he’d understood. Shouldn’t there be other people around? It’s fucking Vegas, for God’s sake. Running with a cramp in his guts fiercely knotted his bowels. Henry was faster and pulled ahead, but not by much.
The backwards running woman-thing chased them to the hotel. Do not look back. I can feel it gaining on us. Don’t look back!
Henry and Thelon tangled in each other’s grasp as they pushed through the revolving door. Outside, valets smoked their cigarettes and looked at them like they were crazy.
Henry laughed and laughed. “Holy shit.” He stared through the glass window and shook his head. “Nobody is out there. Was that shit real? I mean, what’s real anymore?”
“Room. Now.”
Thelon lurched and leaned on Henry, willing the elevator to carry them faster.
Henry struggled to work the door card and Thelon stumbled directly into the bathroom and retched before making it to the pot with the door open.
He sat on the toilet while vomiting into the wastebasket. Henry pushed his way into the room and turned on the shower. “Get in, mother fucker.”
“I’m sick.”
“Get in, bro.”
“I’m shitting, too. I’m sorry, but I’m shitting.” Thelon groaned in agony.
“Just let it out in there.” Henry helped him into the tub and gently pulled Thelon’s shirt over his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you’re talking to a junky who has shit his pants more times than I can count.”
The water was relief beyond Thelon’s shame and embarrassment. The smell didn’t even bother him. “Warmer, please.”
Henry adjusted the water and said, “Okay, man. It’s time to drop your drawers.”
Thelon didn’t want to, but allowed Henry to reach in through the stream of water and peel his pants and shorts off.
“You loaded them up good!”
“Shut up,” Thelon moaned.
“No shame between lovers, dude,” Henry said and dropped the soiled clothes into the trash can.
Thelon lay there under the water, his thinking impaired, his body aching but calming, growing more real. “Henry, do you remember Las Vegas at all?” he asked in a quiet voice, water cascading over his mouth and eyes as he spoke.
“Remember it? My dear fucked up friend, we are still in Vegas.”
“No. Not this time, I mean. You’ve been here before. It’s part of your story.”
Henry knelt by the tub, letting the spray from the shower speckle his shirt and arms as he reached to rub Thelon’s shoulders. “Can’t say I do. Did I have a good time?”
“No. No. Oh, Henry. It hurt you, bad. It wasn’t what you wanted to do, but the fire got away from you. You were trying to do good, you know?” Thelon wept, tears and water becoming one as it circled the drain.
Henry drew his hand back and rubbed his chin. “Um, what did I do?”
“Henry, this is where you lost part of yourself. It burned away, too. Your body. You were trying to do good. Trying to stop Hakim. But you were being played and didn’t know it. The fire in you took something from you, consumed your pain and loss. In your rage, you burned the city alive. Your body was consumed, ashes from the blast, but you were saved once more by Cassie. She took you into her mind and you delivered her to safety. You even killed the President, but that was a different President over there. You killed everyone in the city and the guilt wouldn’t burn away. It never left you. Not even when you ended up doing it again. Killing everyone on the planet. Burning them up.”
Henry sat on the toilet, speechless. He let the water run for a solid twenty minutes, then toweled Thelon off as he sat in the tub, quiet now. He pulled him up, wrapped a robe around his shoulders, and walked him to the bed. “Sleep, my man. Sleep it off. Tomorrow is another day.”
Thelon accepted this charity, these acts of love, and he did sleep.
Henry watched and listened as Thelon’s breathing became deep and regular in the dark room. His own adrenaline subsided and he, too, fell asleep, but fully dressed and lying on top of the covers, ready to spring into action should the world decide it was ready to go completely and utterly mad again.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY LEFT VEGAS around Four a.m. Traffic was easy, and the sun hadn’t yet started its climb into the sky. They topped off their tank at a gas station, and Henry bummed a twenty dollars from Thelon to head inside for road snacks. He returned wearing a grin, a tucker hat, and holding a big bag of convenience store bullshit. Fueled up and gas station breakfast burritos in their systems, they inched towards their goal.
“Do you want to talk about this stuff?” Henry asked and handed Thelon another bottle of water.
“What’s this for?” Thelon asked.
“I want to keep you hydrated, man. This big one by my feet is in case you need to be dunked.”
“Oh.” Thelon laughed. His mind bubbled up a fart of the memory of what happened—a bit like hungover memories surfacing, confusing and guilty. Something had happened in the desert, but he couldn’t recall the details. “Why don’t you tell me what you have on your chest?”
“For one, I’m starting to see why you brought me.”
Thelon nodded and accelerated to match highway speed, but he didn’t follow Henry’s train of thought. Last night…what happened last night?
“You see, you need me. I’m your anchor. Having me around keeps you real.”
“Lucky me,” Thelon said in a dry tone.
“You’re damned right. You can call me your water boy.”
Thelon couldn’t form a logical explanation as to how Henry would be wrong about that. Nestor had said to find Henry. T said not to talk about Nestor. Henry is still here, with me. Helping me. He knows nothing, , but he’s here with me. “Thanks, man.”
“I didn’t catch that.”
Louder this time, Thelon repeated, “Thank you, Henry!”
“Oh, it ain’t no thing. I got you, fam. Now, about this other stuff, I’ve experienced a lot of drug trips. Acid, shrooms, glass, weed, H, X, and all the other letters, too..” Henry scratched at his thighs as if remembering the good and bad of it.“ In the last few days, I’ve seen things while stone cold sober that I’ve never fe
lt on drugs. I’ve been going with the flow, but you tell me in a few hours that I’m going to meet my soulmate. I’ve listened to your fairy tale versions of your story and not even pushed back, but if you know more than you’re saying, I need to hear it.”
Thelon held onto the wheel with both hands and enabled cruise control. “Henry, I swear to you, I don’t know. There’s a part of me that knows this is ridiculous. A part that says go home, go back to work, see a doctor or something. But there’s another part that woke up in this body just a few days ago and that part knew you. That part had an entirely different life—and that part is telling me something big is coming and that I need you and Cassie by my side. I’m not a damned wizard. I do not understand what is happening during these…these freaky episodes. I’m just trying to stay sane and do the right thing.” His voice cracked at the last part and he realized he was crying.
Henry nodded. “You hold on to that then. I’ll go on being your water boy and we’ll see where this thing goes. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Thelon’s heart hurt and he didn’t want to talk anymore.
Henry flipped on the radio and they listened to pop rock, shock jocks, and hosts complaining that they still had a power bill this month and the AC costs were high and was hot, and where was that free power? The infrastructure to connect the EP to the grid was taking time. The announcement had sounded like the future was now, but people still had to work and pay bills.
Thelon had insight into this but didn’t share it. Some small pieces of the work connected with his day job and he should feel proud about that. He—or, T had—helped bring free unlimited power to the masses, and yet here he was on a journey which might just break the EP…if he’d seen Henry in there. What if there’s no EP, just Henry burning like some Prometheus? Would I trade free power for my friend? In a damned minute.
Whenever the station turned to politics or chatter, Henry flipped that dial and found music again. It created a pattern that repeated as the sky grew bright over the next five hours of driving through nothing but tan desert highways.