My eyes met hers through the glass. She was sitting against the wall, gaze fixed on the front window for who knows how long, waiting. Even when she saw me, she didn’t so much as a wave. She just kept staring, expression rigid.
I walked through the door and put on a kind smile, no real meaning behind it.
‘Why the stiff face?’ I asked.
I was a little surprised every time I saw her. She was never as grotesque as I remembered. She probably weighed around sixty-five kilos. Her face wasn’t anything to write home about, but she wasn’t exactly repulsive either. She looked older than her age, but only because she didn’t take good care of her skin. I can’t really explain it, but she was perfectly ugly to my mind, probably because there was literally nothing about her that rewarded the eye. I was pretty sure I’d never met anyone so mediocre, so utterly forgettable.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Well …’
She’d always been on the pale side, but she was looking more ghostly than usual. There was something feverish in her almost-motionless eyes.
‘There’s something I need to talk to you about,’ she said, toying with her straw.
‘So you said.’
I ordered a cup of coffee. Across the table, she was studying the back of her own hands. They looked red and swollen. She was taking her sweet time, and the drawn-out silence wasn’t doing anything for me.
‘Come on. Spit it ou—’
‘I don’t know if I can …’
She was still staring at her hands.
‘Fine, forget it.’
Just get to the point already.
‘But I …’
What the hell was she going to say? I bit my nails. I was pretty sure she wasn’t stalling on purpose. She wasn’t the type to take pleasure in making you squirm. She’s actually a good soul if you ask me. She’d never given me any reason to look down on her – not that that ever stopped me. We probably had no business being friends in the first place. Not because we didn’t vibe or anything. On the contrary, we really did – so much that I had to wonder if she wasn’t the embodiment of my unconscious.
She lifted her face slowly, then stiffly asked, ‘We’re good friends, aren’t we?’
‘’Course we are.’
I answered without thinking. For me, a conversation’s just a series of reactions, reflex responses. I’ve got a habit of saying whatever the other person wants to hear. I’m a real people-pleaser. I know it’s probably not a good thing, but I accept myself – devil-may-care attitude and all.
‘We’ve known each other for nearly ten years.’
She wanted reassurance.
‘Sure, ever since we were kids.’
Good or not, I didn’t have any other friends. Ever since I was little, I’d had a hard time getting along with others. That’s why they sent (well, send) me to the Medical Success Centre. It’s still hard for me to hold down a job. I do what I can to help Mum at home. Mum’s no slouch when it comes to show costumes — designing them, making them. With age, I guess she’s kind of lost her edge and orders have dropped off a little, but …
My coffee came. She kept a sticky eye on the back of our waitress until she was out of sight, then turned to look out the window for a solid five seconds. I guessed she was working up to say … whatever she had to say. I assumed she’d fallen for some guy who didn’t even know she existed. I took a swig of my coffee and it burned my throat. I pulled out my handkerchief and held it to my mouth. She took a slow look around the room and pushed the button at the edge of the table. A see-through capsule popped up to cover us. No one could hear us now.
‘What do you think of the Population Department?’ she finally asked.
‘Where’d that come from? What do you want me to say?’
‘Well, you know …’
‘I mean,’ I said cautiously, ‘nothing’s gonna change, right?’
‘But haven’t you ever thought about … our dignity as human beings?’
‘Nope, not once,’ I said, trying to end this before it could start, but she wasn’t having it.
Looking up at me, she said in a low voice, ‘It’s unforgivable, what they’re doing.’
The last thing I wanted was to get dragged into some totally pointless debate, so – irresponsibly – I just told her what she wanted to hear.
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right.’
‘But we have to do something, anything. We should protest, get them to change the law …’
‘Ya think?’
Okay, now I get it. She got a slip. She’s never said anything about cryosleep before. Not a word.
‘The way they’re doing this, it doesn’t make any sense. You know what I’m saying?’
Sure I did. But saying so wasn’t going to change anything now. ‘Well, it’s a lottery, so …’
Now she was getting worked up. She shook her head, then reached into her bag and pulled out a ratty but pristinely folded handkerchief. She took a corner and dabbed neatly at the corner of her eye. If it were me, the same action would have been so sloppy and careless. We really couldn’t be more different, the two of us.
‘But that isn’t true, I’m sure of it. Top government officials are definitely getting special treatment!’
If you’re so sure, then why bother asking me for my opinion?
‘It’s so unfair …’ Her voice started to crack with emotion. ‘Don’t you think it’s unfair?’
‘I do, I do.’
She wasn’t interested in what I had to say. She was just talking at me. But that’s the way we’d talk: duelling monologues, each of us in a bubble all her own, no hope of ever going anywhere.
‘I know one of the ministers got a slip the other day, but that was a total sham. They’re just trying to win the public over. Most people have no idea what’s going on. Everyone knows that from an international perspective …’ Another habit of hers: producing long strings of borrowed thoughts she hasn’t bothered digesting.
‘Gee whiz, looks like I’m about to get a real wake-up call …’
Sarcasm undetected.
‘No, that’s not …’ she said, her cheeks a little red. Then she kept on going. ‘The Population Control Act went into effect a century ago, but it never should’ve happened …’ – she couldn’t stop herself now – ‘… law of death … crime against humanity …’ Blah blah blah.
All I could do was wait for her to calm down. She talked and talked and was still miles from making her point, whatever that might be. Still, I played the role of concerned friend, listening to her vent for nearly two fucking hours. Whenever she got that way, I couldn’t help but feel like I was just some human-shaped receptacle, there to receive her emotional excreta.
Of all people, though, why me? I’m a far cry from the shoulder-to-cry-on type.
‘Hey, do your parents know?’
‘I couldn’t bring myself to tell them … But I guess they got their own notice about it. It’s true what they say, being a parent can be a real drag.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
‘They’re losing their minds, both of them. Know what I mean?’
‘Sure, I get it.’
Hurry up, already. Yeesh.
‘Seeing them in person would’ve been way too much. I couldn’t do it. I mean, who could’ve seen this coming?’
The words coming out of her mouth are so tragic they’re actually comical.
‘Come on, no one’s gonna die or anything,’ I said, trying to console her, but it backfired.
‘Same difference! No one who’s gone under has ever come back, not once.’
‘’Course not. It’s only been thirty years.’
‘And the worst part is all those stupid kids who actually want to go under! They go along with the crowd, even though they have no idea what’s going on.’
‘What, and you do?’
‘Hey, I’m not saying I have all the answers. But it’s kinda obvious if you think about it. The population’s out of control, so they’re trying to keep it in check. They act like it’s just a little nap or something. It scares me how everyone’s so cool about it, but I guess that’s the world we live in. Everyone’s so numb they can’t even take life seriously anymore —’
‘Sure, sure.’
‘Come on, I’m being serious.’
Did I hurt her feelings?
‘Okay, what do you want me to say? Tell me and I’ll say it.’
‘Now you’re making fun of me.’
Wait, she just figured that out now?
‘Hey, we’re not getting anywhere like this.’
‘Okay, fine,’ she said, putting her hand on her forehead.
I was pretty worn out, but I had to try to get her back on track. ‘You had something you wanted to ask me, right?’
‘Right. I was wondering if you’d be okay with me transferring … to your dreams …’ She was staring right at me, her question hanging in the air between us.
‘Okay. Why not.’
‘Huh!’
‘ “Huh”? You mean you wanted me to say no?’
‘No no, you just … blurted it out.’
‘Want me to reconsider?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying …’
I got it. She wanted me to look deep into her eyes (holding her hands in mine) and give my solemn assent. She was convinced that everything that matters is revealed in big melodramatic moments. She was disappointed to be deprived of her precious climax.
‘It’s just most people transfer to a family member or a lover. Not that I’m opposed …’
‘I understand.’
Understand what?
‘You know we’re total opposites, right? You’re okay with that?’
‘That’s kind of the point. I asked my parents, of course. Neither one of them is much of a dreamer.’
‘Everybody dreams. If I dig deep, I can remember at least four dreams a night. The question’s whether or not you remember.’
‘I guess you’re right. That makes sense.’
‘You just don’t want to be forgotten, do you?’
‘Of course I don’t! That’s the whole idea, right? What’s the point of being transferred if you won’t even be remembered?’
She was always so quick to agree with everything I said. What a way to live. Were her own thoughts so nebulous they couldn’t resist the pull of other people’s opinions and ideas?
‘I dream every night. It really takes it out of me, too. My dreams are always so fucking vivid.’
‘That’s why I’m asking you. I mean, we’re definitely on the same wavelength.’
‘Yeah, I guess so.’
‘From the time you get the slip, they give you fifty days. So before they put me under, we’ll have to go to the Population Department together. I guess they have these helmets or whatever that they have to put on us.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘It’s supposed to take ten minutes or so, wait time included.’
‘I bet they’re really backed up, what with all the people out there dying to be frozen.’
‘Whole families, even. If you’re terminally ill, I can get that. But some of them have the craziest reasons. They want their son to be a spaceman or something. Stuff like that.’
‘I dunno, kinda makes sense.’
‘But not for us. It’s way too optimistic. The Population Network is constantly broadcasting images of some perfect metropolis in a future full of nature and all-round prosperity. Most people are so naive they buy it, too. So many kids out there want to be crew members that it’s getting seriously competitive. They want to wait until they can make enough ships. They can call it cryosleep all they want, but it’s death — they’re putting these people to death.’
‘So when’s good?’
Called back to reality, she balled her handkerchief in her hands.
‘Um … How about next week? I’ll set it up so we can go drinking after.’
Hardly necessary. All we had to do was stop by the nearest office – walk-ins welcome. We could find a bar wherever we went, no problem.
I was feeling worn out again. I should have said no. We’re just so different.
Like most people these days, I don’t overthink things. I’ll go along with whatever. No firm beliefs, no hang-ups. Just a lack of self-confidence tangled up in fatalistic resignation. Whatever the situation, nothing ever reaches me on an emotional level. Nothing’s important. Because I won’t let it be. I operate on mood alone. No regrets, no looking back.
Before me, the world stretches out flat, smooth and featureless. Gentle and inconstant.
But this friend of mine was a serious stickler. Every single thing she did was awkward, wholly devoid of charm.
We’d been friends for years, but not once had she ever surprised me. I don’t care who it is, everyone’s got to have a side to them that takes you by surprise, typically something childish: an unexpected purity, naiveté, coldness …
Then there was her. No ups, no downs. Living in her own tiny world, clinging to the past, indecisive, maudlin, overemotional.
But it was fine.
It was too much of a hassle to back out now. Why bother? Though I suspected thinking like this was a bad habit of mine, I also reasoned that even if I granted this obstinate soul entry into my mental universe, it’d only be while I was asleep.
‘You have time now?’ I asked, injecting my voice with a shot of levity, hoping it’d clear the air of bad vibes.
‘Sure. You wanna get something to drink?’
‘Let’s drop by the Population Department first.’
‘You mean now? Are you sure?’
‘It’s not like we have to do anything to get ready. As long as we’re sober, whatever works, right?’
‘Well, I guess. It’s just so sudden …’
What was going on in her brain? Why make such a big deal out of some stupid little transfer? It’s not like it’s a birthday or something.
‘It doesn’t matter when we do it, right?’
‘I know, but …’
‘Look, if we’re gonna do it, why drag our feet? Let’s get it over with.’
I pulled out enough money to cover my own coffee, all the while wondering if she’d take it as an insult.
‘Don’t worry. I’ve got it,’ she said, waving her hand, but I ignored her and stood up.
‘Oh, by the way,’ I said, ‘what happened to that guy from last year? He’d let you transfer, wouldn’t he?’
She gulped.
‘Forget about him,’ she said, her voice high and borderline threatening. ‘Just let it go, okay?’
I didn’t say anything else. I sighed and followed her out.
I’m standing under a bright blue sky.
In front of me is a path stretching out like a white ribbon, zigzagging over a gentle hill, then disappearing beyond the curve.
It’s spring. Just the thought of spring fills me with joy. And it’s that much better because there’s nobody else around. Slowly, I start walking.
It’s so warm here. Feels good. My mind’s a total blank. I leave countless shells – sloughed-off selves – in my wake.
In moments like this, I swear I can almost feel eternity.
Someone’s behind me.
Didn’t see that coming.
Eyes. I can feel a sticky gaze on my back. When something creeps up behind you like that, it can only be the past – or an enemy. Darkness, something incomprehensible.
And on a beautiful day like this … I almost click my tongue. The air behind me is heavy. I feel something warm on my neck, something like an animal’s breath.
Pulled by an invisible string, I spin around.
It’s her.
She’s just standing there, looking clueless.
Why’d she appear right behind me like that? Why not up ahead or off to the side?
—You scared me! It’s been two months.
—They put me under yesterday. That’s why I’m here now, or at least my consciousness is.
Huh. So this is a dream.
—How do you feel?
—Pretty good, actually. Loads lighter.
—Funny, you look just as heavy to me.
—Because that’s how you see me.
—Think so?
—It’s not just me. This whole world is yours. You’re responsible for all you see.
What the hell? She appears out of nowhere and starts telling me how everything’s my responsibility?
—Hey, if you don’t like it, no one’s forcing you to stick around.
—That’s not what I said.
—Do what you want. This is the world for me, though.
Just feel it, the soft light of the sun. It’s like an invisible scarf.
—Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I like what you’ve done with the weather. And it’s really good to see you.
Guess she’s in a good mood.
—Likewise.
Not really, but I can play along all the same.
—But this place is way too dry.
—Oh yeah? I don’t really have anything to compare it against.
—Mine’s wetter, a gentler world.
—Well, well, well …
—And it’s bright here, too bright.
Why’d she bother saying sorry if she was just going to keep on nagging? What’s her deal?
That instant, the sky changes colour like nothing I’ve ever seen.
—Wh-what was that?
—It changed, just the way you wanted it.
But that isn’t true. The sky is mirroring my mood.
—Whoa! Things can change that quickly? Kinda scary.
Well – I start to say – don’t get all mushy on me now, but I bite my tongue. If this is where we’re starting, it’s pretty easy to see where we’re heading.
Low and ominous, dark clouds rush by at frightening speed, roaring like a dragon clearing its throat. How would she react if Wagner started playing and a black fortress appeared out of nowhere?
My mood has soured in no time. No surprises there. I guess I usually end up like this when I’m with her.
The sky settles into a smudgy charcoal, the diffuse light of the sun blurring the edges of the landscape all around us.
Lacking the will to walk further, I sit down on the grass. She plants herself beside me and starts futzing with her skirt.
—Hey, what’s that?
—A robot from when I was a kid. He was at the Centre, but that was maybe twenty years ago. Wonder what he’s doing here.
The robot wheezes closer, wheels spinning, lights on his head blinking. He’s the most primitive model — the kind kids go nuts for. He makes a noise like a fuzz guitar, like he’s saying LET’S PLAY TOGETHER.
—I spent a whole lot of time with this robot. He was my only friend.
She’s making me dig up childhood memories. I’m a hard-core people-pleaser, even in my dreams.
—Wow!
Is she actually blushing? She’s such a sucker for schmaltz. It’s like she gets drunk on emotion, like it’s a religion for her.
—That’s love for you. It’s always there, deep inside our hearts.
That kind of sentimental bullshit always kills my buzz.
I reach out and flick the robot. It’s reduced to a pile of rubbish in an instant. Nothing inside.
The look of shock on her face. Then that shock turns to sadness. I can see it in her eyes. Whatever. Like I even care.
—It must have been hard for you, going so long without love.
—Listen to the words coming out of your mouth! If I ever said something so sappy, I’d bite off my tongue and die of embarrassment. There are laws against saying stuff like that in this world.
I’m just making it up as I go.
—Wait, what?
—Seriously. The Ban on Sentimentality. Break it and you’ll dissolve into nothingness. Your perspective will linger on a little, then even that’ll dry up and get blown away by the wind. Like that! Poof, and you’re gone.
—Hold on, that’s insane. I mean, I just got here. Now you’re saying it’s my way or the highway? Nobody can change just like that.
She’s trying to smile, but it looks more like she’s having a stroke. I want to say something, to make some snide remark, but can’t bring myself to do it. Same as always. She doesn’t get jokes anyway, so what’s the point?
I’m repulsed by my own nastiness. Nothing like that’s ever happened before.
I’ve always enjoyed making fun of other people, cornering them. But now that she’s here, the whole world feels different. I’ve always been so soft, but I can feel myself hardening up.
Does she stand for so-called goodness and morality in this place? I guess she’s always had that side to her, even in the waking world. She was always saying, ‘Don’t do that … It has to be this way … That’s unforgivable.’
But her power’s not without limits. When I put my foot down, she abides. Later on, she’ll start griping ad nauseam, but I can usually tune her out.
Maybe she corresponds to my underdeveloped unconscious. Maybe she’s like my shadow. Which I guess means I’m her shadow. Together, the two of us form a whole.
What one lacks, the other brings to the table.
A groan wells up in my throat. I lie back on the grass, utterly deflated. God, how simplistic.
She came right up next to me, like a bride approaching the altar. Now I understood why our relationship turned out the way it did, her looking after my every little need. On trips together, as soon as we’d reach the hotel room, she’d make tea, wipe down the table, hang up my dresses. What a pain, I’d tell myself, all the while letting her do it anyway.
—What are you going to do now? What’s going to happen?
Who knows, I reply, not giving it any real thought.
—That’s kinda scary.
—Being scared isn’t gonna change anything.
What else could I say?
—Hey, it’s getting darker, isn’t it?
—Sure is.
How long can she keep going on like this?
—Is the sun going down?
—Nope.
—Then what’s going on?
—REM sleep’s ending.
—What happens then? What happens to me?
—You disappear.
—But I don’t want to disappear.
—It doesn’t matter what you want. You’ll vanish as soon as I wake up.
—Okay. See you again, right?
What – I mutter under my breath – from now on? Forever?
Un-cha-cha un-cha. A repulsive melody blared inside me. An awful ostinato. I woke up.
The vision slowly loosened its fearsome grip. It lost its colour, like a faded photograph, and then vanished in the dark.
I took a deep breath.
In the waking world, I obsess over the superficial. I devote myself to the acme of emptiness. And that devotion infiltrates my dreams, the world of my unconscious. Covered in thick plastic – that’s how I’ve made myself. Over years and years. The sadistic act of self-creation.
The sudden arrival of this shadow threatened the balance. She infused a syrupy wetness into my world. I’m better off on my own, I tell myself again and again. What’s she trying to do? I guess it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Within the realm of the mind, the emotions that guide her behaviour are just as rational as reasoned thought. That being the case, I could calculate the results of any emotion she might have. If she tried to keep the feeling down, she’d just flip a pig. First law of thermodynamics.
The only reason she can do what she does is because she doesn’t know the first thing about self-control. Yeesh. There’s no way I can do this every morning. No way. The dream was slow to fade – I could still feel the breath of the beast on me. It had always been such a merciless world before, too. So bright, so dry.
I guess it was good I went to sleep last night with my body-phone on. I was about to take the pendant off when the world’s most shameless guitar rang out. The heinous sound made me shudder. My leg shot up, sending my blanket up into the air.
I laughed. What I wouldn’t give to take a look inside the head of the person who programmed this stuff. That’d make life more fun.
I headed into the kitchen with my bodyphone playing and made coffee. Surrendering myself to the ridiculous rhythm, I pulled out a paper filter. Nothing beats the old way. That’s what tastes best.
With the hot mug in my hands, I went into Mum’s room. She was already awake, just staring at the ceiling.
‘There’s that face again!’
I handed her the mug of coffee, grinning like a fool.
‘Hey, what did you expect? At my age, when I wake up, I need a minute to sit here and just sigh at … I don’t know, the heartless logic of this world.’
‘You mean time?’
‘Yeah, time. It’s all I have, and it’s a big fat void. Sounds sad, right? But it’s not. And that’s what makes me so sad. Know what I mean?’
‘Sure I do. I’m pretty much over the hill myself.’
‘Come on, don’t start with that again.’
‘Start with what? It’s all downhill after twenty-five! And, you know, looking back is fine and all, but it’s awful when you turn to look forward only to see yourself looking back.’
‘You’re not making any sense, honey. Hey, a call came earlier. I was barely awake, so I left the cam off, but there was this tiny man on the other end. It wasn’t how I wanted to start the morning, eye to eye with this shorty.’
‘Takes one to know one. What’d the guy say?’
‘He asked if that friend of yours went into cryosleep. I told him I wasn’t sure.’
‘Oh, that guy. That’s her boyfriend. A real catch, right? Well, I guess they deserve each other. He’s such a freak. I dunno, maybe he’s not that bad. If that’s her thing, though, she’d be better off going out with a dog.’
‘You’re joking, right? You’re such a phony,’ Mum said, a smirk on her face.
I sat on the floor.
‘Yeah, obviously. I’m cursed, incapable of being serious with anybody. I could never say something like that and mean it. Just said it for kicks. No other intentions, base or otherwise.’
‘Maybe he’ll call again later.’
Mum threw on her gown and started looking around for her slippers.
‘He’s got to be wondering about her.’
‘Hey, keeping somebody under costs money, right? I wonder if the Population Department can stay in the black.’
‘They’re saying they can. What with their new methods and everything.’
‘That’s what they say, sure.’
‘Exactly. But maybe all those people are actually dead. The doctors at the Population Department show us all this data and swear that’s not the case, but who knows? We won’t know anything for sure until they’re unfrozen, and that’s waaay in the future.’
‘Hey, you okay? You look zapped.’
I picked at the carpet, saying nothing.
I killed that robot at the Centre ages ago. She made me remember that. The fact that I have zero remorse makes me feel weirdly cold — and sad. Dreaming every night was draining me. I could see her accusing finger pointed right at me. I horrified her. She’s probably itching to throw herself into some classical tragedy.
‘Do you really have to work today?’ I asked, mustering all the sweetness I could.
‘As if I have a choice …’
‘Aw, come on. Work’s the worst. What if we took a day off? We can live like a couple of bedridden biddies and have a good old-fashioned nap-off.’
‘You’re getting a whole lot of sleep these days.’
‘But I always wake up tired, no matter how much sleep I get. I’m so worn-out that I go back to bed early. Then I dream, and my dreams wear me out again.’
‘Honey, it sounds like you hate this friend of yours.’
‘Not at all.’
Mum set her mug down on the bedside table and lost herself in thought.
‘Did you talk to the doctor at the Centre?’
‘I told him everything. But lately it all feels so moronic. I mean, why should I bare my soul to this guy? Think about it. We don’t even know each other.’
I did like him once. He was basically a stand-in for my father, but he turned out to be completely useless. He never did anything for me. Still, I guess he filled a certain role for a little while. But I no longer had a need for him. Where the hell was I heading now? I was always moving from one attachment object to the next, no end in sight.
And Yoshiko probably thought that made me dangerous. It scared her.
‘You feeling okay, honey?’
She’s worried. Poor momma. How’d she wind up with a daughter like me?
‘Your head’s full of sawdust, like the stuff those dolls are made of,’ Mum said. ‘You’re like a composition doll.’
I felt even worse now than when I got up. Music wasn’t working. I turned off my pendant, killing the sound no one else could hear.
‘Isn’t there some way to keep yourself from dreaming?’
‘There is. But you’ll go insane if you keep it up. Schizophrenics are fine without REM sleep because they dream during the day, with their eyes open.’
Mum frowned at me.
‘Hey, wanna eat?’ A necessary change of subject.
‘What’s going on with you these days? All you ever want to do is eat. You sick?’
Mum went into the kitchen.
‘Sick of not having a man in my life.’ I tried making Mum laugh, but I missed the mark. Staggering to my feet, I dragged myself to the dining table.
‘I thought you had a guy.’
‘I got bored.’
‘Did something happen?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Mum. Nothing happened – that’s why I was bored. He didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing. I’m just beyond it. I guess I’ve achieved enlightenment.’
‘Yeah, right.’ This time she laughed. I could tell by the way her back shook.
Ever since Yoshiko started showing up in my dreams, all I wanted was more sleep, more food. Did I want to die? No, that wasn’t it.
The phone rang.
I went to the screen and flicked the switch. Even that took it out of me. The doctor’s face appeared in front of me.
‘Oh, good morning.’
He bobbed his head a little like he was sorry to bother me. I did the same in return.
‘It’s been a while since we’ve seen you at the Centre. Is everything okay? Do you want to put our meetings on hold for a little while?’
‘It’s just’ – suddenly I was a child again – ‘there’s no point.’
‘Geez! Will you listen to this kid,’ Mum muttered, twisting her neck to look at me.
‘Why would you say that?’ The doctor blinked.
‘Because I don’t need a cure, even if I am sick.’
‘But you’re not sick.’
‘What difference does it make? I’m so wiped. All I mean is, I think I’ve made my peace. Like, I’m fine the way I am.’
Safe to say I’m definitely not.
‘If that’s how you feel …’
The doctor looked down for a second, then lifted his head again.
‘Well, you should come visit whenever you’re feeling up to it. Are you working?’
‘Not really, no.’
‘Then how about next Friday morning? If you’re heading somewhere else, maybe you could stop by.’
Why’s he being so polite? Poor guy. What the hell’s going on with me? Why am I taking pity on everybody this morning?
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I said softly, ashamed.
‘Well, I’ll be waiting. Take care.’
Then the screen went dark. Like a fading dream.
Mum started setting out cups and plates.
‘You’ve been like this ever since the transfer, a shadow of your former self.’
Mum took some time to think, then continued, ‘What if you had them erase her? Could you?’
‘Yeah, any time.’
‘Well, maybe you should.’
‘Not yet. I still wanna see where this goes. I kinda feel like something’s gonna happen, something crazy.’
‘You always want to see how far you can push things — it’s gonna be your downfall.’
‘Yeah, you may be right,’ I said as I started stuffing myself.
‘From the sound of it, she’s not a bad person.’
‘That’s what makes it so hard. The whole thing really bums me out, but I guess it kinda appeals to me, too, almost like a game. It’s like, who has more willpower, you know? Except it’s my dream, so it’s a little unfair. Still, nothing goes the way I want, either, so maybe things are actually more balanced than I thought.’
‘Just forget about work. What if you went roller skating?’
‘Yeah, that’s what Lucky said.’
‘That guy keeps on calling, huh?’
‘He’s cute, like a puppy. Simple and cheerful and full of energy. A while back, we were going through the park at night and it was a full moon, so Lucky got down on all fours, looked up at the moon and started howling. God, I looove that side of him.’
I cracked a smile. I honestly felt that way, but there wasn’t any spark there. It was more like I was looking down on him from a great height.
‘So why don’t you call him? He’s got nothing else going for him, other than being a good kid, but he’s way better than the other boys. Taller, too.’
I almost gagged on my soup. Height is all she cares about when it comes to boys. Height first, then smarts. For me, I don’t care that much about brains. What really matters is how much the guy listens to me. Of course, I don’t act that way with Lucky. It’s never even crossed my mind to try to get him to understand me. All I ever think about is how I can trick him. I know, ‘trick him’ is a funny way to put it. I just want us to have fun together while we can. But I can feel my desire to be with him slipping.
When we were done eating and I was getting changed, the phone rang. It was Lucky.
‘How’s it going?’
He always seems so happy.
‘Like this,’ I said, switching on my cam. I unbuttoned my blouse so he could see the lacy bra he’d given me. Why was this guy sending me this kind of stuff anyway?
‘Whoa, whoa. Put ’em away! I’m with Buddy Boy.’
I buttoned up.
‘Why aren’t you guys at school?’
‘We bailed. You get my tapes?’
‘Yeah. They were insanely good. My favourite’s the one with all the vile, ear-splitting tracks.’
‘I bet they had you flapping around like a fish out of water.’
‘Oh, I thought I was gonna die!’
Please, please stay this way forever, I thought. Always happy — never sad, never serious, never in pain. It’d mean the world to me, just to know you can go on being the way you are. Far, far away from me.
‘And that’s what they call art. I have no idea what they’re trying to say, making music like that. Makes you wonder what they were thinking, huh?’
Lucky would just glide right on, same as always. He would get into all kinds of things but never go deep. All his value was right there on the surface. And that was why Mum thought he was such a playboy.
‘I can’t go out today.’ I almost wanted to tell him why, but it was too much trouble.
‘Why not?’
‘You wouldn’t understand. It’s an adult thing.’
‘Pssh, I’m only two years younger than you.’
‘You’re young for your age, Lucky. And that’s what I like about you.’
I meant it, too. This was no act. But I could feel a comfortable distance growing between us. Which was fine.
‘Hey, we’re gonna be at this guy’s house later.’ He grabbed Buddy from off cam. ‘You know the place, right? Don’t keep us waiting. Cool?’
He always had the weirdest way of talking – brutal one second, sweet the next. Before I knew it, I was nodding.
Where am I? Standing in a dim corridor, inside what seems to be some gigantic building. I’m barefoot, in a bathrobe.
There are doors all around me, but they don’t touch the floor, don’t reach the ceiling. Every one of them is the entrance to a shower stall.
I start walking, my bare feet slapping against the floor. I don’t know where I’m heading, but I guess I’m looking for a way out. I start at the far end, opening the doors one at a time. Nobody anywhere. When I turn a corner, all I see is more doors. Another hallway, cold and wet.
It reminds me of her. She’s got to be close.
I nudge open another door half-heartedly, then pull it shut before moving on to the next. So weird how they’re all shower stalls.
Then she came out of the darkness in the same overalls as always. Every time I see her, she’s wearing the exact same thing. I’m sure she had a few different looks in the waking world, but I guess I couldn’t tell them apart. She really loves her greys and browns, the duller the better.
—I’ve been looking for you.
She’s winded. What’s she all worked up for?
—Having a hard time on your own?
Not like I was blaming her or anything.
—I’m an introvert and introverts need companions.
Right. I forgot about that habit she had (yes, had) of stringing words together like they were actually comprehensible. More than that, there was something sharp lurking in what she said.
Look at her make-up. A throwback to another era. Blue eyelids and red lips leaping off her otherwise drab face. What a train wreck.
I think it was an ex of hers who said it: She’s got no style when it comes to clothes or make-up. And I’m pretty sure I shot back, ‘So what kind of style’s she got?’
Oh, right. I have something to tell her.
—Your man called this morning.
The second I deliver the message, she brightens up.
—What did he say?
Whoa, chill out. Nothing to get excited about.
—My mum picked up, so …
I feel sorry for her.
—He didn’t call back later?
—Nope.
I didn’t want to tell her that. I feel like there’s a snake inside me. I hate it. It wasn’t like this before the transfer. I used to be so empty inside, so pure.
—What are you trying to say?
Don’t ask me when you already know the answer. No, wait – it’s a scary thought, but maybe I’m the only one who knows.
—He probably wanted some … reassurance.
—What’s that supposed to mean?
I can see the defiance in her eyes. No, not defiance — hatred. She hates me. That’s why she keeps showing up like this. What’s that supposed to mean? God, the mileage she’s had out of that line.
—You know, he wanted to make sure you went under.
—What the fuck are you trying to say?
She squares her shoulders. Why can’t she just let it go? I only said what I said to put a little fear in her (if that’s even why I did it), but at this point she’s got zero pride left. And she’s the one always saying there’s nothing more important than pride.
—You really want me to say more? He’s scared you’re gonna come back, that you’re gonna stab him or something.
—Why would I do that?
Her voice is actually trembling.
—I get why he’s scared. I mean, when things started getting crazy, you were crying every time I saw you. I know it was pretty serious and all, but you only saw him once a week — five, six times total? But that didn’t stop you from unburdening your soul and confessing your undying love for him (which she actually did — he told me so). You really put your obsession out there for all to see.
Before him, nothing dramatic ever happened to her. So she had to dream things up. And now it’s become a complex of hers (apparently) — that nothing ever happened.
—I don’t wanna hear it.
There was a petulant bloodlust in her voice.
We just stood there, speechless.
A low rumble was coming from somewhere — an air conditioner or maybe a boiler.
Guess there isn’t anyone else around.
She always loved gossip. Celebrity stuff. Something’s up with those two, she’d say, unable to contain her giddy excitement. The way she idolized the girls was downright weird. Falling for the boys would have been a lot more normal, but she’d go on and on about the girls for hours — almost like she’d taken their place.
Life’s never satisfied her. No, that’s not exactly right. She half resents her past but can’t bring herself to let it go. She relives her regret, over and over. Nothing happened, I did nothing.
She leaves her physical self behind, entering some resplendent other. I guess it never occurred to her that she might be able to function in reality if she could just get over her self-effacing transference.
She’s always wanted to forget her own wretchedness, even if only for a second. She couldn’t have made it this far without constantly identifying with other people.
—Knock it off already. I swear, it’s like you were born an old maid.
The words just came out. I have even less self-control here than in the waking world.
She shot me a look. It was hardly homicidal, but the strength of her spite was obvious enough.
—Don’t you get it? You’ve had a huge influence on me.
—I had no idea, but I guess I can see it now.
I wish I hadn’t, but I said it, just like that.
—I used to be … obsessed. Seriously.
There was something sticky in her voice.
—News to me!
I really shouldn’t be so glib.
—And that’s why, we need to settle this.
—Settle what?
—My feelings. You’ve got to make this right.
My, my. What a scary thing to say. I can feel it again. Something hanging in the air.
—What do you think’s going on outside this building?
—How would I know? It’s your world.
—I bet we’re in a bomb shelter and most of the human race has died off.
She shuddered.
—Hey, what are you doing? I have the right to choose our environment, too.
I didn’t say anything. I just started walking and she followed. The corridors were a maze. First things first, we had to get away from the centre. It would be great if we had some string or maybe a piece of chalk.
I had no way of knowing if we were getting any closer to an exit, but I kept on walking. All I found were identical doors, floating amid the same unchanging light.
—Looks like your mind’s a real mess.
Is she taking the piss?
—Yeah, who knew I was such a labyrinth.
The walls changed colour. I got the feeling they were fragile, like they were made of packed earth. Maybe we were getting closer to the exit. Maybe this maze had been abandoned for centuries.
—Hey, I bet we can break through this.
I started kicking at the wall, but I was barefoot, so it didn’t do any good.
—Stop! What are you doing?
—What do you think I’m doing? Trying to get out. I thought you hated this place.
—But it’s dangerous.
—Yeesh, you’re afraid of everything, aren’t you?
When I threw myself into the wall, it came crumbling down. She shrieked.
On the other side of the wall we found an empty room made of mud. One window. Outside, I could see the blue of dawn. We’d made it to the outer wall.
In one corner, there was a huddle of people so dirty I couldn’t even tell if they were men or women. They were in rags, skinny and covered in grime. They had faces like rats and ate like rats. I guess they weren’t human after all.
She kept poking me in the side. I think she was trying to tell me to stay away, but I walked right over to talk to them. Their responses were obscure, but not indecipherable. I asked them question after question about the outside world, until eventually I learned that they’d lived through some kind of apocalypse. Far from here, there are human survivors, the rat people said to me. We know because we’re telepathic.
—We’d better go and check it out.
—Wait, we don’t even know what happened. What if there’s radiation out there? Or ammonia storms? We don’t even know for sure if we’re on Earth.
I guess she’s right about that.
—Look, the window. There’s a crack in it, so the air’s got to be fine.
I walked away from the room. It looked like the building was buried under a gentle hill. The corridors weren’t corridors anymore. More like a cave system.
Timidly, I made my way toward the source of the cold, white light. I could see a storm outside the cave. The sea was close. Trees that looked like black palms were blowing in the wind. There was a narrow trail of clay so weather-beaten it was almost gone in places. I could tell we were at the edge of an inlet.
—There are people, way over there. That’s where I want to go, but there’s no way in hell …
The more I talk with her, the more I sound like a boy. Even though it’s not like that when we argue. She starts clinging to me.
—Is this the end of the world?
Calm down. It’s not like you’re the only one who’s scared here.
—I dunno.
—What were you thinking? Why’d you destroy the world?
—It’s not like all life has been wiped out!
—Those aren’t human beings. Hey, do you think it was a nuclear war?
—No way. I have a feeling this world is in another dimension.
—So what do you think happened?
I don’t know how to respond. I’m afraid that if I voiced the doubts spreading inside me like ink, they might become real.
The kind of light you see before the dawn, its brightness unchanging …
We were standing at the top of a hill. All around us was a waste-land of red earth. This planet has to be extremely small — there’s a roundness to the horizon.
She couldn’t speak for a while. It was all too much.
The sky hanging over our heads had transformed into a dome. Harsh, mineral light covered every inch of the hard blue surface. At the centre of it all was a pasted yellow sun that looked like cheese. It had a cruelty to it, like a giant eye glaring down at the beings on the surface.
—This place is terrible.
She spoke at last.
Each ray of light was like a needle, offering no warmth, but it was so bright it stung. Nothing in this place had a shadow.
—I wish there were people here.
—Even if there were, they probably wouldn’t be any help.
—Still, I wish there were people.
Maybe she got her wish. Slowly, I turned around and saw a group of humans – maybe fifty or sixty of them, crawling along the earth like ants. What was this? Forced labour?
I heard a siren blaring somewhere, announcing some catastrophe.
—All this nothingness … It’s horrible.
—One time, I was in a town with light like this, but it was a town. Still, I could tell all the buildings were just some kind of backdrop. When I looked at the backs, they were nothing but plywood. The sky was an ominous purple. The roads were packed with people and cars, though.
—Don’t tell me you like this kind of world.
—I don’t hate it.
—Why not? It doesn’t make any sense!
—Beats me. I can’t explain it.
—What’s there to like about a place like this?
—For starters, look at how immaculate it is. This light blanches everything.
—You’re out to annihilate the human race!
—Yeesh, you sound like a broken record. The thought’s never even crossed my mind!
—Is there no real life left in your world? No friends? No school? Do you hate those things?
—You kidding? I love them.
While I fielded her questions, I had to ask myself: What was it about her that was turning me into a man? Got to be all that femininity. She’s acting like such a woman (as society defines the role, anyway) that I have to play the man just to keep the balance. What if I ran into a boy? Could I even play the part of a woman?
I don’t need any men here — not Lucky, not the doctor, nobody. I’ve already got everything I need.
Syzygy? Androgyny? I’m no man and I’m no woman. Who needs gender anyway? I just want to get out of this place, to be on my own.
I’ve got no desire to see the collapse of humankind or the end of the world. I just want everyone to enjoy their lives. That’s why I came here — to a different time stream, a different planet, a different universe.
—You hate this world, don’t you?
I asked with sympathy.
—Yeah, I hate it.
She’s still pissed off. Poor thing. She really has zero grasp on the situation.
Here, in this place, you’re only a shadow.
—I don’t know how it got this way. It wasn’t like this before, not until you came along.
—You mean it’s my fault?
—That’s not what I’m saying. But why can’t you just stop caring?
—Like you don’t care? That’s bull. You’ve got your own likes and dislikes, too. Even when it comes to people.
—’Course I do. It’s all light and shadow, practically nothing in the middle. And I get a kick out of making fun of the people I hate. But, on a more basic level, I don’t care. I don’t care and that’s what makes it so fun.
—All at the same time?
—Yeah, all at the same time.
—And it’s always been like that?
—Ever since I was little. Don’t get me wrong, I have all these emotions inside. I get angry all the time. But if I try to think about why I feel that way, there’s no real reason. I just get angry cause I’m bored.
—Does that go for everything you do? It’s so unnatural.
—I guess it does, so it’s natural for me. Everything feels serious, and everything feels like a pose, not that it really makes any difference. I can act all kinds of ways, but in the end it’s always an act.
—What about the real you? Aren’t you just repressing your true nature?
—That’s what I’m saying. This is the real me, this is who I am.
—That’s the saddest thing I ever heard. To think that’s the only way you can live.
—It doesn’t make any difference, though. I mean, who cares?
The needling light was unchanging. What if this planet’s sun is just a ridiculously powerful light bulb? That’d explain why it isn’t moving. But if it doesn’t move … What about time? Had it stopped?
—You’re off your rocker.
—Yeah, rockin’ and rollin’. Doesn’t bother me.
There was a line running straight across the blue firmament, like someone was slicing the dome in two from the outside with a giant razor.
A thin black line rose slowly from the horizon.
—What is this? What are you doing?
—Don’t ask me.
She always wanted to attach motives to everything. Otherwise she couldn’t relax.
The invisible razor cut right through the flat clump of yellow sun.
—I can’t live in a world like this!
Her whole body was trembling. I’d seen her like this once before, in the waking world. I went to her house one day, and we were just sitting at the dining table, talking, when she started convulsing like crazy. This wasn’t your average twitch. It was some real fork-in-socket stuff. I wanted to say something, but I got the feeling she didn’t even know what she was doing, so I decided against it.
There was one other reason I kept quiet, too. I was afraid. She really had no idea what was going on – she just kept talking about her favourite celebrity, shaking the whole time. That really scared the hell out of me.
I remember thinking how if she ever went crazy, she’d be the type to sink into some murky abyss without even realizing it. Even our madnesses were opposite. For me, it was always a conscious thing. I wanted to be this way — and that’s why I dispatched myself to this far-flung world.
—Hey, you can do whatever you want.
I couldn’t take all the talk. I looked up at the sky. At the beautiful hard dome, split clean in two. And when it opens up, on the other side … a black, empty, sinister void … if I can just make it there, maybe time will …
A slip came for me.
Choose? I don’t want to choose anything.
When I put the piece of paper on the table and cradled my head, Mum came over.
‘Wanna make a run for it? Momma will figure something out.’
A long time ago (when was that?) I felt pity for this person. If I were the same person I was then, I would have felt the same, I’m sure of it. But I’m different now, never feeling anything.
‘Hey. Talk to me.’
The woman who gave birth to me peeled my fingers off my head. Softly, too – one at a time.
‘My head hurts,’ I said in a hoarse whisper.
‘I know. You don’t want to go under.’
‘It’s not that,’ I said, shaking my aching head slightly.
‘What is it?’
‘A purely physiological pain.’
She never came back to my dream world again. There was no merging of shadows inside me, either. I had her erased. Now she lives in somebody else’s dreams. I was alone again, in my own twisted world, unbothered by all other forms of life. I felt whole again.
Same as in this world, I could feel my own heart stop. That had been going on for some time, even during the day. There were times when I lost all feeling, when I truly felt nothing. I felt like I could do anything — even kill someone. It happened once a year or so. Then when my emotions would start up again, I’d shudder at my own heartlessness … But that would fade over time … In my dreams, there was nothing holding me back, and that was where I truly felt free.
My head hurt because every time I go to sleep I stare right into that blinding light, never even blinking.
‘It’s okay, though. I’m feeling a little better.’
I took my hands off my head and looked at Mum. What a cute face she’s got.
‘I wish it came to me instead.’
She’s talking about the slip. But of course it came to me, of course it did.
‘Hey,’ I said, remembering I had something to say.
‘What?’
‘Don’t hate me, but I’m not going to transfer into your dreams.’
‘So who are you …?’
‘No, I don’t want to be in anybody’s dreams. I want to go someplace where there’s nothing.’
My mental work was over now. All thanks to Yoshiko.
‘You …’
‘Come on, don’t say anything embarrassing. Nothing about self-destruction or despair, okay? It’s not like that, not at all.’
I just want them all to stay sunny — Mum, Lucky, the doctor. It doesn’t bother me that I’m not going to see them anymore, not even a little. Different kinds of people belong in different kinds of worlds. And, lucky enough for me, mine’s a world within reach.
I want to keep on living. Forever. And that’s how it’s going to be. I’ll become a lone eye somewhere, floating, without consciousness.
‘Your soul’s not like mine, is it? It’s really something else,’ Mum said.
‘Yeah,’ I said, softly. ‘Something nowhere near as good.’