A FAIRLY SWEET RIESLING

Over a bottle of wine, Caddy mentioned that Simon and Sarah were imaginary.

They’d gone to that restaurant Chow again, because Simon had insisted and everyone seemed to be in a mood to do as Simon wanted to do. They’d ordered the twenty dollar burgers and Sarah had asked for a vanilla Coke float, but Simon said no, she didn’t want that, she wanted white zinfandel, they all did. And Ray had said they couldn’t have white zinfandel because, firstly, they were both under twenty-one and secondly, it was totally gross and they should at least get ordinary zinfandel. And Simon reminded him that only a couple of days ago he, Ray, had actively encouraged and even enabled a minor (Simon) to drink alcohol (beer) in a pub (Transfer) and that Simon could pretty much get Ray locked up and maybe even he’d get deported to Australia, but it would be now Australia not future Australia and how would Ray ever get home again, and Sarah wondered if there was a word for ‘home’ that was about time instead of place, but she didn’t get to concentrate long because Caddy was saying, ‘Just let him have the wine, Ray. It doesn’t matter, it’s all imaginary, and anyway, I made up the world and in my world I want Simon to have a glass of wine and chill the fuck out.’ And then Ray was telling her to shut up but Simon wasn’t having any of that, he wanted to know what she was on about.

The waiter let them know that they didn’t actually have any white zinfandel, but if they wanted he could either get them a fairly sweet Riesling or they could have ordinary zinfandel, if they’d like.

‘Riesling,’ Simon said, and the waiter went away, probably to call the police. ‘What did you say?’

‘I invented you,’ Caddy said, now seeming a little like she wished she’d never mentioned it in the first place.

‘Don’t listen to her,’ Ray said, but Simon was, and Sarah was too, so instead they didn’t listen to Ray.

‘The shimmeriness?’ Caddy said, and Simon nodded. ‘That’s where I got bored of imagining stuff. It’s where I ran out of ideas.’

‘So you’re claiming you imagined all this? Like’ – he waved his hand around – ‘all this.’

She nodded.

‘And us. We’re imaginary, and you imagined us. That’s what you’re saying.’

‘Pretty much.’

‘You know San Francisco’s in history books and stuff,’ Simon said. ‘This restaurant, it’s on the internet. San Francisco is in atlases. Even old atlases, in the library.’ Sarah was pretty sure he’d never actually checked that, but anyway. ‘I really don’t think you made up San Francisco. Or did you make up the atlases too? Like those guys who reckon God created fossils and put them in the earth to trick us into thinking there was such a thing as dinosaurs and evolution. Is it like that?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Caddy. ‘I didn’t invent San Francisco. I read it in a book. I’m not really sure how it works.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Simon.

‘Wait a second,’ Sarah asked. ‘Are you insane?’

‘She’s insane,’ said Ray. ‘I told you not to listen to her.’

‘I’m kind of interested,’ said Simon. ‘Keep talking.’

‘I think Ray’s right,’ Sarah said, and she tried to start a conversation with Ray about how boomerangs work, but Simon made her shush.

‘I don’t totally get this,’ Caddy said. ‘Ray’s the one who knows more about how the whole thing works, but I know this. I made you two up. I had an idea that there would be these two families who would become obsessed with really seeing America, that they’d map the whole country out in twenty-five foot squares, and that there’d be some kind of falling out where one family would start using thirty foot squares. And I wrote a story about it, told from your point of view.’ She looked in Sarah’s direction, ‘About what it would be like to be the children of these families, left with the job of seeing all of America, and what would happen if one kid really wanted to keep going and the other had had enough.’

‘So what happens?’ Simon said.

‘I don’t know. I threw the story in the river before it was finished.’

‘Yeah, nice one. What a surprise. OK, you might not know the details, but surely you had some kind of plot for it, yeah?’

‘Um, no.’

‘So you didn’t know how it was going to end?’

‘No. I was just going to write and see what happened.’

‘What? That is the laziest thing I’ve ever heard. You were going to let the story write itself?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Oh, freaking great. So I guess we’re about to drop dead then, huh Sarah? She didn’t bother imagining any more life for us.’

‘I don’t think that’s going to happen,’ Caddy said. ‘I never imagined this stuff, that we’d meet up. We’re outside what I imagined already. And you’re not dead yet.’

‘So, conveniently, you won’t be able to tell us what happens next and we won’t be able to check if you have any idea at all,’ Simon said.

‘You’re pretty half-assed, aren’t you?’ Sarah butted in. ‘How can you have just sort of imagined us? Why didn’t you even bother to figure out what would happen to us? That sucks. Don’t give up your day job, OK?’

‘I don’t really have a day job,’ Caddy said.

‘This is clearly bullshit,’ said Simon.

They all just sort of sat there, until the waiter brought over a bottle of wine and showed it to Simon, who said, ‘Yeah, what?’

‘Is this what sir ordered?’ asked the waiter.

‘I don’t know. You’re the one who took the order. Is that what I ordered?’

‘I’ll taste it,’ said Ray. The waiter, looking relieved, poured a half an inch into his glass. Ray knocked it back, nodded, and the waiter filled the rest of the glasses.

‘Not me,’ Sarah said. ‘Can I have a vanilla Coke float?’

‘You might as well have an imaginary wine,’ Simon said.

‘No way. Wine is bogus. I want Coke.’

The waiter sighed a little, put the bottle on the table and went, perhaps, to get her Coke.

Simon had a mouthful of wine and screwed up his face. ‘So,’ he said, then took another slug. ‘You knew my dad.’

‘I made him up,’ Caddy said.

‘Yeah, right, you made up my dad, you must know him pretty well. What would he have wanted us to do? Keep going, keep seeing America, or get a life and act like normal kids?’

‘He’d have wanted you to keep going,’ Caddy said.

Ray put his head in his hands and Sarah might have too, because later she couldn’t remember seeing what Simon did.

‘Even though there’s nowhere to go?’ Simon said.

‘Even though there’s nowhere to go. Your dad is unreasonable. He’s nuts. At least, the version of him that I wrote is nuts.’

‘And me?’

‘You too. But you don’t have to be. It’s not too late for you to stop all this.’

‘What about me?’ Sarah asked.

‘You’re me,’ Caddy said. ‘Obviously. I mean, I’m not a very good writer.’

‘Get fucked!’ said Simon, and looked like he was about to throw his glass on the floor. ‘GET. FUCKED. You come in here and tell us we’re imaginary, and now you’re saying you’re not even a very good writer! What do you mean? Like, we’re all two-dimensional and shit, not fleshed out at all? Unrealistic? Is that what you’re saying? I don’t feel unrealistic. I feel pretty pissed off actually, which is kind of a realistic response to someone telling you you’re a shithouse imaginary character.’

Caddy looked at Ray like he might somehow get her out of this. He still had his head in his hands.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You’re heaps more complicated than what I imagined, if that helps.’

‘Not really. Hey, and next time you’re going around imagining stuff for imaginary people to do, maybe you could imagine them being really rich and happy and having a very comfortable bed to sleep in, OK?’

‘Yeah. I’ll do that.’

‘Great. Thanks.’

‘Do you really not know the ending?’ Sarah said.

‘Really. I got stuck. I didn’t know what would happen next. And I’d had a really shit day and I just chucked my notebook in the river. I was pissed off.’

She turned to Simon. ‘It doesn’t matter, then,’ she said.

‘What doesn’t matter?’

‘If we’re imaginary or whatever. We can still do whatever we like.’

‘Who ordered the burgers?’ asked the waiter, and Simon and Sarah both put their hands up.

‘Short ribs?’ Ray waved his hand around.

‘The roast chicken must be for you then.’ He put the plate down in front of Caddy, who said, quietly, ‘Thank you’.

Everyone pushed their food around a bit, except Sarah who began to demolish her burger.

‘Hang on,’ said Simon.

‘Can we just leave it?’ said Ray.

‘No.’ He turned to Caddy. ‘How can you even be here if we’re imaginary to you? Are you an imaginary version of you?’

Caddy was about to say no, but then she thought maybe he was right. Maybe this was the imaginary version of her. That would make a lot of sense. It would explain why the chicken tasted so damn good.

‘We’re not imaginary,’ said Ray. ‘At least, not that we know about. I mean, you didn’t know you were imaginary till a minute ago, so maybe we are too. But we’re not imagined by Caddy.’ Simon was still looking at him, so he went on. ‘Remember how I told you about how I traveled around using the creases in maps?’

Simon nodded.

‘OK, well that’s how I got here. How we got here. Sometimes the maps don’t work properly and instead of ending up where I think I’m going to be I get chucked into this place called The Gap.’

‘Like …?’

‘Yes. Like GAP. But it’s nothing like that. It’s a place where all kinds of weird shit ends up. There’s a section that’s all lost socks. And a place where your shadow goes when you die. And there’s this section called Suspended Imaginums. It’s where things go if you imagine them, then stop imagining them.’

‘What?’ said Sarah.

‘Like,’ said Caddy, ‘if you have an idea for a jumper you want to knit …’

A what?’ said Sarah.

‘A jumper. Oh. I mean, a sweater.’

‘OK. And?’

‘So you have an idea for a sweater you want to knit, and you plan it all out but then you break a finger playing poker and while you’re waiting for it to heal you kind of lose interest in knitting. So you never get around to making your jump … sweater. So your sweater goes to live in Suspended Imaginums.’

‘Yeah, so what does all this have to do with us?’ said Simon.

‘I imagined you guys and all this stuff that happened to you, but then I threw my notebook away and stopped thinking about you. You got suspended. So your whole story went to live in Suspended Imaginums.’

‘And that’s where I met up with you,’ said Ray. ‘Last time I was in The Gap.’

‘No,’ said Sarah, ‘you met us in San Francisco.’

‘That was part of what Caddy imagined. An imaginary San Francisco. I stepped into the place you live, which is a whole world she imagined. Only it ends. Right around Walnut Creek.’

‘I thought you said you were no good at making shit up?’ Simon said to Caddy. ‘This is hot stuff, this Gap business.’

‘She didn’t make it up,’ said Ray.

‘I have an idea,’ said Simon. ‘How about we all just shut the fuck up and eat our dinners, yeah?’

‘I’ve already finished,’ said Sarah.

‘Right, you just sit there and shut up, then.’

‘Shut up yourself!’

Simon stared at his plate and shoveled food into his mouth.

‘Hey,’ said Caddy, staring at her plate as well.

‘What?’

‘I’m sorry.’

No one spoke.

When Ray and Caddy woke up the next morning, Simon and Sarah were gone.