A LAST SOY CHAI LATTE

Ray and Caddy hung around San Francisco for a few days, waiting to see if Simon and Sarah would come back once they realized there was no way of getting to Walnut Creek. Ray had wanted to stick around, even once they’d realized the kids weren’t coming back. He liked it there. But Caddy felt weird, being somewhere she’d made up in her head. Anytime she looked closely at the place she squirmed; she found fault with everything, was embarrassed that other people were having to live in a world so trite and poorly thought out. And anyway, she missed people. She missed Peira and Lanh. And she was kind of keen to see that Sergeant Fisk guy again, if possible.

Ray agreed there was no way for her to get back by herself. He admitted it might be good to go back and see how business was going, maybe collect up a few things if he was seriously thinking of emigrating, perhaps let a few people know he was on the way out so they wouldn’t worry too much. So on a shockingly sunny morning they had a last soy chai latte and cranberry scone at the Dolores Park Café and slipped back through the crack by 20^th street.

‘Excuse me, sir.’

Ray, expecting to step out onto the usual combination of blue-grey polyester carpet and yawning void, found himself sprawled on a desk held at either end by slightly grubby men in high-visibility shirts. He looked around for Caddy, who had tripped on an ergonomic chair and was scrambling her way up off the floor.

‘Excuse me, sir.’ It was ponytail guy. ‘Excuse me sir, you can’t be in here. This is the Office of Unmade Lists. We’re not open to tour groups.’

‘Office of Unmade Lists?’ Ray said. ‘We were after Suspended Imaginums.’

‘Ah. This is the area previously known as Suspended Imaginums. Unused space. We’re expanding the Office. So many lists to not yet make. Not enough space. Suspended Ims has contracted slightly – you’ll find it behind there.’

The grey dividers had been moved about three metres back from the previous border.

‘So what happens to all the Ims in this space?’ Ray asked.

‘Not my problem, sir. You’ll have to talk to the people at SI about that.’

‘There are people at SI?’ Ray said, at the last second deciding not to say it quite out loud.

‘At any rate, sir, you’ll have to leave. No, not that way.’ Ray was edging over to the spot where he usually slipped out of The Gap, taking Caddy by the hand on his way past. ‘Not that way. Out the front please sir, if you don’t mind.’

Ray considered panicking. How was he going to get back to San Francisco if this whole area of Suspended Imaginums was being decommissioned? Should he do a bolt now and let Caddy fend for herself? He couldn’t let Caddy fend for herself. God damn it all to hell.

‘OK, thanks. Caddy?’ He motioned towards the front entrance of the Office of Unmade Lists. ‘Any new lists you haven’t made lately?’ he asked on the way out.

Ponytail guy gestured with his head towards the workmen, made a shushing motion with his lips. ‘Sir, all lists are unmade and therefore not available to the public,’ he said, a little too loudly.

‘Oh, of course. Well, thanks. Bye for now.’

‘Ray,’ said Caddy, as they stepped out into the shimmery haziness, ‘how are we going to get home now?’

‘Shadow Storage and Retrieval. We’ll have to try and get out the way I came in first time.’

‘Oh. OK then. Hey Ray?’

He nodded.

‘Is this the shimmery haziness you guys kept going on about?’

‘Yeah, this is it.’

‘I can see why you call it that. Hey Ray, if we get home you should let me buy you a drink. This has been quite something. I mean, if I was at home right now I’d be down at the tip scouring through rubbish trying to find stuff to build a new humpy. This is heaps better. Thanks.’

‘Better than being up to your elbows in landfill?’

‘Even better than that.’

‘OK, in here.’

Ray was leading her towards a small booth, surrounded by lakes of black felt that dripped out into the haze of The Gap. The shimmer was subsiding, and Caddy could see a woman in a pillbox hat – with a veil! – filing her nails.

She looked up at them.

‘Um, hi,’ said Ray.

‘What is it, buddy? You got shadows to store?’ She flipped through some pages on the clipboard in front of her and reached for a pen.

‘Ah, no. Retrieval. I’m here for a retrieval.’

‘Retrieval? Hmph.’ This time she looked at them properly. ‘Hey, I know you. You’re that guy came here looking for Narnia.’

‘Dromana.’

‘Whatever. I don’t recall you ever doing a drop off.’

‘I’ve got my claim ticket.’ He unzipped his bumbag, rifled through the contents (while Caddy looked a little embarrassed on his behalf) and, with a slight triumphant flourish, produced his ticket.

The woman held it up to the light. ‘Technically,’ she said, ‘this ain’t a claim ticket. This is our stub, y’know?’

Ray shook his head.

‘The bit that’s supposed to be attached to the shadow. How’d you get this?’

‘The guy who was here when I dropped off my shadow gave it to me.’

‘Sure he did. There is no guy. I’m the only guy ever works here.’

‘Perhaps you were on vacation.’

‘Yeah, perhaps I was. Or perhaps you’re full of crap. Or perhaps I accidentally gave you the wrong half of the ticket. Either way, I don’t much care. But I sure as hell don’t want to go back there looking for a shadow that hasn’t got its ticket on.’

‘We can go look for it,’ Caddy butted in. ‘We know what it looks like. We can go find it.’

The woman batted her eyelids at Caddy and bit at the end of a carmine nail. ‘I tell you what, hun.’

‘What?’

‘You get me a nicotine patch from somewhere, and you can go back there and do whatever the goddamn hell you like.’

‘Oh man. Nicotine? Come on, lady …’

‘Honey,’ said Ray, a giant smirk plastered across his face. ‘I can give you a whole packet.’ He reached into the bumbag once more, and handed over a pack of Nicabate. ‘Courtesy of a customer. So what do you say? Maybe you’d like to come back there with me for a little while?’

‘Don’t push it, sweetcheeks.’ She turned her chair to the back of the booth. ‘Get out of here.’

Ray was about to say something else, but Caddy grabbed his hand and they plunged into the shadows.