Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ethan was ushered off the train by a GO train officer at Union Station. It was Ethan’s last stop, so he went willingly. He kept his eyes down, trying to be cowed—but also to keep Vinny quiet. When the officer continued to lead Ethan through a series of underground tunnels, he panicked he was being arrested for real, but he merely escorted him out of the building entirely, to a bank of waiting cabs. There were no words of parting. Ethan shoved his hands deep in his pockets and turned away from the curb. The cabs were tempting, but he had a feeling no one would recognize the clinic’s address.

He walked. His feet ached, his head hurt, and he was pretty sure he was dehydrated from drinking only saltwater.

“You are,” Vinny said. “It quiets me but kills you. Want more?”

“Fuck off.”

No one on the streets said anything back to him. He kept walking, meandering around tall buildings. Sometimes he was heavy as if his shoes were filled with lead. Sometimes he took wrong turns, unable to decipher what was a real direction, supernatural lag on his phone, or what was Vinny deliberately spinning him in circles.

But he would get there. He would get there.

“What do you think will happen?” Ethan asked after he’d turned down a dead end and couldn’t get out for five minutes. “Why are you trying so hard?”

“You know why the US lost Vietnam?” Vinny asked instead of answering.

The question sounded like something Jacob would know. Ethan checked his phone, but there were no messages or texts from Jacob. A dozen browser windows were up with supernatural incantations, medical information, and the history of atomic warfare. Ethan didn’t remember doing that last search. He shrugged and went back to his hand-drawn directions, ignoring Vinny’s question. It was nearly dawn now, and his appointment was a couple hours away.

“Stumped?” Vinny asked. “Well, let me tell you: because the US attacked the Vietnamese on home soil. You never win a war when you attack on home soil. People will always defend their homes, no matter what. Even in the direst of circumstances, even against all odds. People simply don’t leave their homes. They’d rather die.”

“Are you trying to tell me that’s why you’re not leaving? Because you’ve found your home?”

“Yes.”

“It’s my home.”

“Which is why you’re fighting too. We make a wonderful match, don’t we?”

Ethan wanted to be sick. When he was, it was in another alleyway fifteen minutes away from his destination. He recognized the street signs from the directions he’d been given over the phone, and the archaic writing on the door matched Jacob’s scrawled instructions he’d given before he left. The medical symbol of the snake around a staff was curled into a double helix and two-headed. To anyone passing by, it seemed like a normal clinic entrance. But to those well-versed in mythology, the meaning was obvious. A women’s clinic by day, but with another facet underground. Ethan remembered the conversation he’d had with Jacob in the woods about belief, and over dragon eggs. All around the world, these secret places and underground economies existed. Even in Toronto, and probably even in the India, where Vinny’s family had been from, they were there and merely waiting to be discovered. Their visibility depended on what you were open to seeing, and what you wanted to believe.

Ethan gripped the door, his body frozen. What would happen if the kid was born? This was a real question, not a manipulation by Vinny. Ethan had consumed coffee, alcohol, and smoked more than half a pack a day during the first couple weeks of this pregnancy. But his own dalliances were surely not enough to harm the kid, at least not in comparison to the ghost inside him.

“If I gave birth…would you hang around and devoid my kid of a soul? Is that how this would work?” Ethan asked aloud.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, it’s not going to happen either way.” Ethan wrenched the door open fully. He used too much strength, pulling it against the brick wall outside with a loud bang. Vinny didn’t stop him. No one even seemed to notice as he walked down the long hallway. The Samara Health Clinic sign was on a door at the end. Amber was the one working when Ethan entered. As soon as he spotted her name tag, he went directly to her desk and introduced himself.

“You look a mess, dear. Are you all right?”

“I know. He’s here. He’s…” Ethan opened his mouth, and Vinny’s voice came out. Ethan placed a hand forcefully over his mouth. He scanned the waiting room and saw normal women. Two men. And maybe a creature with red eyes if he looked hard enough. He blinked and the red eyes turned to brown, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Please help.” Ethan turned back to Amber. “I don’t think I have a lot of time.”

Amber gave him a sympathetic expression as she paged a doctor. He was ushered into a room away from the waiting area, but it was not an examination room. There was nothing in here but a desk and files. Too many files. It reminded him of Chelsea’s office. It reminded him of something else, too, something he couldn’t name. A familiar jar of tea filled with white leaves was on the counter. For a second, the entire office changed into Eisha’s tea shop, where she used to give women raspberry leaf to induce premature labour. She made women drinks to allow them to become free again from their own bodies.

“Your sister…” Ethan said. “Your sister is here.”

Vinny tugged inside him. “You can’t do this. You can’t go forward.”

“I have to. You have to let me go.”

“Ethan?” A nurse appeared. She held something made of metal—like the kind Tessa wore against her wrist—and extended it to him. There were no pleasantries as she met Ethan’s presumably tortured gaze. “Hold this, please.”

Ethan did. The noise inside his head became a piercing frequency, worse than the sound made by a mic next to a speaker. Vinny became weaker inside him, more than the saltwater and recorded voice tricks from earlier had done. The nurse gave him a set of forms to fill out and sign. When Ethan’s hand cramped, she took over and asked him the questions aloud. She made no judgement, no gesture to how odd it was to see a man in this position, holding his abdomen as if he wanted to keep the child inside him, while actively advocating for its removal and also carrying on a conversation with a ghost inside his head.

“Did you come with anyone today?” she asked.

“Not willingly. Just the…you know.”

She made a note. “Is anyone driving you home?”

“No.”

She made a face. It was the only time her judgement seeped through her stoic composure and winged eyeliner. “That’s a shame. You will be quite groggy after the procedure. We highly recommend not travelling alone.”

“I have the Uber app in my phone,” he said. “Use that. My credit card is in my wallet. That’s the easiest thing I can do.”

“What if someone comes looking for you? Is there anyone we can put down?”

“He won’t come,” Ethan said.

“Who is he? You never know; he could surprise you.”

“Jacob,” he said his name like a charm. Ethan told her Jacob’s full name and contact information. He had nothing else to lose.

Once a few more questions about his pregnancy timeline and any allergies were answered, he was ushered into the actual procedure room. His feet moved without issue. He held the metal object she’d given him at the beginning of the interview tighter and tighter in his palm.

“You’re an hour early,” the doctor said. She had brown skin and kind, familiar eyes. “But that’s okay. I can take you now.”

“Thank you.” The nurse hovered by Ethan’s side. After she got the equipment set up, she gave Ethan her hand. The metal fell out of it and onto the ground. No one picked it up.

But it was quiet. Vinny was still silent, and Time did not come for him.

The nurse went over the procedure steps Ethan had already memorized. “You will be given local anaesthesia, but we also have other drugs to numb the pain. They won’t make you pass out, but they will sufficiently relax you, and you will become sleepy.”

Ethan had slept fitfully for a week. A nap sounded like a godsend. He nodded to the nurse that yes, he wanted the drugs. She turned her back to prepare a syringe. Ethan stared at the light and felt a pain in the centre of his head.

You will not wake up. You will never wake up. Vinny’s presence came up into his throat, squeezing him. Tears stung Ethan’s eyes. But Vinny’s voice was weak. It was a whisper, coming to him in italics rather than bold and out loud. Ethan was sure he could fight him.

Vinny kept yelling in Hindi and in English until the needle went into Ethan’s arm. He imagined the liquid hitting his blood stream like a rushing river, a damn bursting. His body was hot and cold. He imagined the pain relief attacking his bloodstream, mixing with whatever pregnancy chemicals were there, and breaking it down.

“Now, lie back, dear,” the doctor said. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

Ethan thought of nothing but the ocean until he could not keep his eyes open anymore. Then even Vinny was quiet.