China, the unBagger
Someone left the back door open, so I can see the metal monsters that live behind Headquarters with my very own eyes for the very first time. They’re all sleeping now. Rusty cars and trucks and motorcycles and refrigerators and signs and piles and piles and piles of old machine parts. I know what some of them are because Charlie tells me everything. Charlie’s a Suck, but a special one. She’s allowed to learn all about the Shit Show to help us pass its tests. I’m the only one that listens to her lessons, so the other Sucks say she’s my mom. I pretend it bothers me so they’ll keep doing it.
I have to wipe my hands on my trousers because the Wolf says if any of us steps ONE FOOT into the yard, the junk monsters will wake up and give us the OLD TANGO UNIFORM. Which means kill us dead. But I know the Sucks go in there at night to see who’s brave enough to stay the longest. The record is fifty-two seconds. I can’t show how brave I am, though, because I’m not allowed to step so much as one foot outside Headquarters. Under any circumstances. Period. LAW OF THE LAND.
But I am eight years old, and I am brave, and I want the Sucks to stop teasing me.
My feet climb out of my clogs all by themselves, and one bare foot steps through the door like it has its own brain.
Fifty-three seconds is its plan.
Snap!
My foot steps back into the kitchen, but it’s too late. A little bit of pee comes out all by itself.
’Cause it’s the Wolf.
I turn around and see him staring at me with his black, black eyes that are dark caves, where wolves want to rip me to ribbons with sharp white teeth. The scars that reach up onto his cheeks from under his wild beard slither around like snakes because he’s angry, and his yellow rubber glove thumbs hook under his suspenders, stretching and stretching them away from his scratchy white shirt. Snap! He lets them go and they snap back against his bulgy chest. The Wolf’s as big as a bear and almost as hairy.
I hate the Wolf’s eyes and the Wolf’s gloves and the Wolf’s scars, but his hat—the real head of a real dead wolf—is the worst. It sits on his head like it died there, with its fur hanging down his cheeks like two hairy arms. I hate it the most ’cause I feel like its yellow eyes follow me even when the Wolf’s black ones don’t.
The Wolf drops a Bag from his back, and I start breathing so fast like I am running. Which I am not allowed to do. I can never run. Ever. Never. Ever. But I’m breathing and breathing and breathing and everything is going fuzzy.
“AT EASE, CHINA, YOU LITTLE OXYGEN THIEF,” the Wolf yells. “YOU KNOW IT’S NOT FOR YOU.”
He calls me China because I break easily—I have a problem with my bones—but my real name is Felix.
“HEY, SUCK!” he shouts, looking down the hall where a boy a little bit older than me was trying to hurry by. “LINE UP FOR MANDATORY FUN!”
The boy does as he’s told, but he walks like his clogs are on backwards. He’s looking down at his shirt and trousers because he thinks they’re dirty and that’s why he’s in trouble. It’s easy to get a Headquarters shirt dirty because they are white, but the trousers are brown, like the girls’ dresses. The girls make all of our clothes out of wool. I never get my Headquarters uniform dirty. I slip my clogs back on.
“CHINA HERE BROKE THE LAW OF THE LAND,” the Wolf says when the boy comes close. “WHAT HAPPENS AT HEADQUARTERS WHEN SOMEONE BREAKS THE LAW OF THE LAND?”
The boy looks like he drank spoiled milk. I see blobs of sweat dripping from his nose. Right when he barfs up the word Bagged, the Wolf’s yellow hand whips out his Hotshot and jabs him in the chest with it.
ZAP!
The boy’s eyes roll back in his head. Then he falls to the floor, his whole body shaking and shaking and shaking.
The Wolf hates electricity and won’t let it in Headquarters—except in his Hotshot, because he says it’s a good teacher. It’s a mean teacher. But the Sucks listen to it.
“BAG,” says the Wolf.
Snot and boogers are coming out of the boy’s nose. And even though he’s still shaking, he climbs inside.
“ZAP ZIP,” the Wolf says, and I know he’s talking to me.
My hands are wet, so it’s hard to work the zipper right. But I do it. I see one of the boy’s eyes through the little space I leave open so air can get in. The eye hates me so much. It hates me twelve times forever.
When I’m done, the Wolf yells, “IT WOULD BEHOOVE YOU TO REMEMBER, CHINA, THAT WHEN SUCKS VIOLATE THE LAW OF THE LAND, SUCKS GET BAGGED. AND WHEN CHINA VIOLATES THE LAW OF THE LAND, SUCKS GET BAGGED.”
Spoiled milk is in my stomach too, so I can’t say I do behoove.
“DOES THIS MEAN YOU’RE SPECIAL?”
Spoiled milk says I can only shake my head no.
“NONE OF YOU IS SPECIAL! FREAKS AND SUCKS—YOU’RE ALL TEN POUNDS OF SHIT STUFFED INTO FIVE-POUND BAGS. DO YOU COPY?”
I nod my head to say I copy.
“BAG!” the Wolf shouts, “DO YOU SEE THE LIGHT?” The shaky lump inside the Bag is allowed to answer the Wolf. The only thing a Bagged Suck is allowed to do is answer the Wolf.
“Yes, sir!” the shaky lump shouts. He has to shout extra loud through the Bag leather.
“AND WHAT DO YOU SEE IN THE LIGHT?”
“Discipline!”
“TAKE NOTE, CHINA,” the Wolf tells me. He pushes my helmet up so he can see my eyes better. “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO SURVIVE THE SHIT SHOW IF YOU CAN’T SEE THE LIGHT?”
I don’t have to say I don’t know because the Wolf is already going away, shaking his head. I want to unBag the boy, but I can’t do that until tomorrow morning. No one is allowed to get out of a Bag until they are unBagged. Sucks can get reBagged for doing that. Bagged and Dragged even, right to the Brig. The Wolf doesn’t want to bother with the unBagging, so he gave the job to me. Because I never get Bagged. I never get Bagged because at Bed Check the Wolf goes around kicking Bags to make sure they are still full. If I got Bagged, he’d never remember which one I was in. And if he kicked my Bag, he’d have to call Doc, and if I wasn’t dead, I still wouldn’t be able to unBag probably for a long time, and then he’d have to do it himself.
So I’m the unBagger. China, the UnBagger. Even though my name is Felix and I hate my job so, so much. I hate it twelve times forever.
I stare at the Bag Eye because it’s staring at me. I can’t look away and so I have to cry. I’m crying because I never got anyone Bagged before. My hands decide to unBag the boy, so my clog slides toward the Bag. But then it slides back because the boy won’t want to come out before he’s allowed to. But then it slides forward again, because it’s still my fault he’s in there. And now I’m breathing again. Breathing and breathing and breathing and the Bag is starting to spin.
But then something good happens. Charlie is here for Kitchen Patrol, wearing her apron and bonnet over her Headquarters dress. She is so pretty. So, so, so pretty. She squats down and looks me right in my crybaby eyes and says, “It’s okay, Felix.”
But now she’s spinning and spinning and I’m going to faint—which I’m not allowed to do.
Then Charlie breaks a Law of the Land.
She touches me.
With both hands.
She holds my shoulders but so, so gently. Her face stops spinning. It goes soft and sad and her brown eyes are so big I want to zip myself inside them and never come out.
Then she does worse!
Charlie picks me up and lets me wrap my arms and legs around her middle. I can breathe better now, but I’m crying harder because I’m going to get her Bagged too! Charlie! Who is unBaggable. Because she is pretty and perfect and she has Discipline. She’s the oldest in the house because she’s almost eighteen, which means she’ll be Discharged soon. Tomorrow! Her birthday is tomorrow and she will leave me here alone, and now I am crying the hardest. I will miss her the most because she is the only one at Headquarters who doesn’t hate me.
Charlie takes me out of the kitchen. There’s a full Bag on the floor out here too. She doesn’t kick it like other Sucks sometimes do because she would never do that.
“Shhhh,” Charlie says, turning into another hall to escape the Bag. I am playing with her long ponytail. Which is my favorite thing to do in the whole world. It makes me breathe even better. But I can’t stop crying. I will cry forever. Twelve times forever.
“Shhhh,” Charlie says again. There’s no Bag in this hall, but there’s something just as bad. A Tango Uniform machine. The Sucks say it came from a fun house, which can’t be true because I know a fun house is a place full of fun games for children to play. This game says EXECUTION on top in blue letters on green glass. There are always pennies in the coin return slot to make it go. I made this one work once, but never ever again. Inside the machine is the front of a tiny castle with tall wooden doors guarded by a tiny soldier. When I put a penny in, the doors creaked open. And then I could see a tiny man in a chair with a bag on his head and a rope around his neck. I heard a click, and all of a sudden the floor under him opened, and he fell through, dead. I’ve never put a penny in the other Tango Uniform machines. I won’t even go in their halls. But I’ve heard Sucks say they all have tiny men getting The Old Tango Uniform. Some get their heads chopped off. One has a man in an electric chair that shakes and shakes and shakes.
Charlie stops at a door—but it’s a Bag Room door! Bag Rooms all have a Bag hanging from a nail on their doors. The hanging Bag means AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, KEEP THE HELL OUT. Which means OFF LIMITS.
But Charlie opens it anyway! My heart is booming like drums.
What is Charlie doing?
She takes us inside!
Then she shuts the door behind us!
I squeeze my eyes shut. But they open themselves because they want to see what’s inside even if I don’t. The room is full of dusty old radios and TVs piled up on wooden tables and on the smelly mattresses of broken bunk beds. But then I notice a big glass bubble on a red shiny base. The bubble is full of candy! I want some even if it’s old. The only candy I’ve ever had is the taffy we make once a year. But Charlie carries me through the room fast, toward a tall clock that’s also a tower next to the bunk beds. She opens the front of the clock.
There’s a door inside! And behind the door are skinny stairs that go up into shadows!
“Shhh,” Charlie whispers, carrying me into the clock and up the Clock Steps. Her breath is warm on my neck. “There are lots of secret stairs at Headquarters,” she tells me. “And besides the Wolf, I’m the only one who knows about them.” I wonder how she knows. But I know she knows because she is special. I am very scared and very excited, all at the same time. But I am still crying like a Bug Company Suck, which means a brand new dumb-dumb who doesn’t know SHIT FROM SHINOLA.
At the top of the stairs is another door. And behind it is the inside of another Clock Tower, and through that is another Bag Room. This one is full of toys! Old toys, but beautiful toys. They are rusty and beat up, but I love them so much. There are cars and trucks I could hold in my hand, but also big ones a boy like me could sit on and pedal. Metal fire trucks, police cars, and trains fill up plastic tubs on the table. Another tub is full of a million plastic dolls. Why can’t we play with these toys? Why can’t we even know they are here? I reach out to grab a fire truck, but Charlie says, “We can’t, Felix. But it’s okay. I have something even better for you.” She carries me out of the room and into another hallway, while I look over her shoulder at the fire truck.
Charlie shuts the Bag Room door behind us, and I see that we are on the third floor—my floor. Then she takes me into her room! I’ve never been in anyone’s else’s room before, and I don’t understand what’s happening or why we are breaking so many Laws of the Land. What if I get Charlie Bagged and Dragged? That would be the worst thing ever to happen in twelve million years. I would never ever forgive myself. Ever never ever. Charlie is my friend! I’m the only one who knows her real name is Charlotte.
Her room is just like mine. She has a bed and an oil lamp hanging from a nail in the wall, just like I do. Charlie carries me into her closet, whispering, “Shhhh. Shhhh. You poor baby. Shhhh.” She closes the door and puts me down. I think maybe we are hiding and will have to hide forever because of all our violations. That would be scary because what would we eat? But also good because Charlie would be with me.
Charlie reaches up to a board on the ceiling and pushes on it. It moves! She pushes it more until a ladder made of rope falls down into the closet.
I want to ask why all these strange things are happening, but I can’t. I’m still crying. I will cry until my eyes make a flood, and maybe we can swim away from Headquarters together. I don’t know how to swim, so Charlie will have to teach me.
“Shhhh,” Charlie whispers. She climbs the ladder and disappears into dark. Before I cry out, her face looks down at me from above. “Come up slow!” she tells me. I’m scared, and even though I’m not allowed to climb, I do what she asks because she’s Charlie. One step at a time. Slowly. Slowly. Up and up, while my heart beats like drums again. When she can reach me, Charlie gently takes my arm and helps me through the hole.
We’re in a giant attic. A whole extra floor! Only, it has no halls. It must be the biggest room in the entire world! I didn’t know this was here, and I don’t think anyone else knows either, or the Law of the Land would be Authorized Personnel Only! Keep the Hell Out! The walls reach up to high, high ceilings under a curved roof. I wonder if bats live up there in the cobwebs. The floorboards are piled high with boxes, stacks and stacks of them. And the boxes are filled with books! I know about books because everyone at Headquarters has a Bible and Charlie has other books she uses for teaching. But I have never seen this many books before—and magazines too!—spilling out of the boxes.
I want to rush to the stacks and start reading everything, but Charlie says, “Come here, Felix.” She takes my hand and leads me over to a stack of boxes that make a mountain, with book stairs that lead all the way up to a diamond-shaped window under the roof. She helps me climb up to the top, where it’s flat like a shelf and we both sit down.
And then Charlie shows me something even more amazing than Bag Rooms and Clock Steps and a secret attic full of books. A spyglass, like the one from Charlie’s stories about Captain Hook. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world that isn’t her. It’s silver and shiny and has swirly whirly decorations all around it.
Charlie puts the big end of the spyglass into a circle of string that’s hanging in front of the diamond window, then she presses it to the glass and says, “Put your eye to the little end like this.” She puts her eye there to show me how.
It’s my turn, so I put my crybaby eye to the little end and look through.
First, I see the junk from behind Headquarters, reaching like scary arms around both sides of the house, past the front porch and the dead grass field, all the way to the hedge wall that protects us from the Shit Show. Sometimes I like to look through the hole in the hedge at the busy road when the front door is open, but now I can see over the entire wall and across the road and right up a path made of big stones on the other side of it.
I take a big breath when I finally see what Charlie wants me to see.
At the end of the stone pathway, on top of a hill, is a fairy-tale castle right from her stories. A real one!
Now I’ve seen an even more most beautiful thing than I have ever seen.
“One day,” Charlie whispers into my ear, “I’m going to live there. One day soon.”
My eye moves away from the spyglass and looks at her even bigger than my big breath.
And then she says something even better!
“And you can live with me. I’ll be your real mom if you want me to be.”
And then—poof! Just like magic, my tears are all gone.
Which is only fair because at THE END of Charlie’s best stories the bad guys get banished forever.