Bad Stacks Story Collection Box Set (27 page)

“You shouldn’t think that way, Boy.  Just pick a door and walk out.”

“But what if I hate where I end up?  I’m not like you.  When I leave this place, I won’t be able to return again.”

“True.  But if you become consumed by your power of choice, you’ll never leave.”

“Will you choose for me?”

“No.”

I feel the urge to close myself off again, so I face my cabinet.  But instead of climbing inside, I grab a jar of piss and shit.

And with this weapon in one hand, and my jar of tears in the other, I approach a simple wooden door that reminds me of home.

Then I face the Death Cat once more. 

I’m not sure if I want to thank her or curse her.

But in the end, I say, “Thank you, Holly.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, still too weak to sit up.  “I hope you die a wonderful death.”

“You too.”

And with that, I touch the doorknob.

I imagine a life of monsters and misery on the other side, and part of me wants to embrace my fear.

But this path could lead me to love.

So I open the door.

***

The wide, wide world pulls at me from every direction, and if not for the thorny bush rooting me to the ground, I’m sure I would ascend into the azure abyss above.

I hate this place already.

And this place obviously hates me back.

But a drop of optimism dilutes my terror as soon as a girl in green appears atop a boulder. 

“How do you do that?” I say.

She jumps and lands in front of me.  “Do what?”

“Not fly.”

“That’s easy.  I just don’t become a bird.”

“Is it common for children to become birds?”

“Not common at all, I’m afraid.  I’d love to fly.  At least for a few days of the year.”

“Why?”

She gazes up at the horrible blue void.  “The sky’s beautiful.  Don’t you think?”

I try to imitate her warm expression, but I can’t see through her eyes.  “I don’t like the sky.”

“Don’t worry.  You will someday.”  She touches my arm.

And in that moment, I release my grip on the shrub.

And I don’t soar to my death.

So I pick up my weapon once more, but the jar of excrement slips from my bloody hand.  “Shit!”

“What is that?” the girl says.

“Porridge.  Are there many monsters around here?”

“It doesn’t smell like porridge.”

“Never mind that.  What about the monsters?”

“I’m the Girl Who Monsters Fear.”  She takes my hand.  “I’ll protect you.”

I believe her.

And for some strange reason, I want to run at her as fast as I can.  I want to smash into her, and jumble pieces of me with pieces of her.

Maybe she’s a wife waiting to happen.

But I don’t want to make my father’s mistake.  He fell in love with the Woman Who Can’t Bear Children, in spite of her mortality.  And he suffered the consequences.

The day I came into being, my mother ceased to exist.

And one day, a monster will refuse to fear the Girl Who Monsters Fear, and she’ll probably disappear too.

In the end, I need to find a partner I can’t love to help me create life.

So I release the girl’s hand, and escape the trap.

***

The door I knock on tonight looks almost exactly like the door I passed through to enter this world.

Or maybe not.  My memories like to play with me sometimes.

But I’m not in the mood for games.

So I ignore the door and focus on the man.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” I say.  “But I’m tired and hungry.  I haven’t eaten for days.”

The man shrugs.  “I couldn’t care less.”

“You couldn’t?”

“No.”

I smile.  “Are you in need of a servant?  I’d be happy to work for food and shelter.”

The man rubs his beard, then opens the door wide.

I follow him inside.

His home would remind me of every other home in the area, if not for the pyramid of stacked excrement jars.

“What can I do for you?” I say.

He motions to the far wall.  “Everyone in the world wants to live inside my cabinet, but I hate when people stay in there.  So I need you to stay in there and stand guard.”

“But if you hate when people go in there, won’t you hate when I go in there?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t count.”

“Why not?”

The man sighs.  “It’s a complicated issue.  And on my list of things I hate, complicated issues are ranked fourteen.  That’s fourteen out of six thousand and twenty seven.  So you can understand my reluctance to answer your question.”

“Of course.”

“So you’ll take the job?”

I nod.

And the man forces me into the cabinet, closes the door, and locks me in.

I’m home again.

***

Sometimes, the Man Who Can’t Smile allows me to join him for dinner, but I don’t think he yearns for my company the way I yearn for yours.  I think he likes to watch me enjoy my meal the way he can’t anymore.

But the dinners never end well, because he can’t taste through my mouth, no matter how hard he tries.

So like always, he knocks over the table, and says, “Get back in the cabinet, Boy.”

I don’t.  “I’m not going to help you anymore, unless you help me bring Salvador to life.”

“Who’s Salvador?”

I pull you out of my pouch.

And the Man scoffs.  “What a stupid-looking cup.”

“He’s not stupid,” I say.

“I didn’t say he’s stupid.  I said he’s stupid-looking.  Although I’m sure he’s as stupid as he looks.”

You don’t deserve this, so I try to cover your ears.

But the Man snatches you away from me.

“Give him back!” I say.

The Man throws you on the floor, and grabs me by the arms.  He forces me back into the cabinet.

“Let me out!”  I say.

He doesn’t.

And through the keyhole, I watch him drink from you as if he owns you.

Now, I’m sure.

I’m going to die in here.  Unloved.  Alone.

***

You have to understand.

Normally, I wouldn’t try to kill another person, but I don’t think this thing counts as one.

I’m almost positive.

So I say, “Have you heard the one about the decapitated mouse and the talking intestines?”

The Man shakes his head.

So I tell him the only joke I know, but the Man doesn’t seem to appreciate Death Cat humor, because he doesn’t even smirk once.

I sigh.

Then I notice the notches on the cabinet wall.

“It’s my birthday,” I say.

“So?” the Man says.

“I want to hold Sal.”

And my muscles ache with hope and the power of my birthday wish.

Finally, the Man says, “It’s my birthday too.  Therefore, my wish cancels out your wish.  You get nothing.”

I want to cry, but my mason jar can’t hold any more tears.

So I watch in silence as the man pours hot water into you.

Then, after all my years of waiting for you, you scream.

And I want so much to hold you in my arms.

“It hurts!” you say.

And I know what it’s like to burn, because a strange fire always flares up in my face whenever I think about what happened to my parents.

“Help me!” you say.  “Help me!”

I realize now that you’re more than my friend.

And of course I want to save you, but I don’t want to face the Man outside.  I recognize him now.  I recognize myself in him.  And if I leave this cabinet, I’ll probably end up becoming him.

I’m better off locked up.  If I ignore your pleas and my heart long enough, all my suppressed emotions will transform me.  And become me.  And in this state, I’ll never feel anything ever again.

I imagine myself as a monster, and part of me wants to embrace a life without fear.

But I love you enough to love myself.

So I kick open the door.  Easily.

And I say, “Pour out the water.”

“Never,” the Man says.

“I’ll fight you if I have to.”

“You don’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t?”

“You’re a Child.  I’m a Man.”