Bathing the Lion (25 page)

Edmonds raised his arm like a student in class who knows the correct answer. “
I
understood him. I mean, I understood maybe every third or fourth word he was saying.”

“You
did
?”

“Yeah, but like I said, not everything.”

“What
did
he say?”

Crebold spoke again. Edmonds listened to his fast spew of incomprehensible words, craning his head forward, trying to follow everything. Finally he held up a hand to stop Crebold from saying more.

“I believe he’s saying it’s partly your fault.” Edmonds pointed at Kaspar. “He says you knew your whole life you were a mechanic, right?”

Kaspar didn’t move or respond. The others looked at him with varying degrees of curiosity.

“He says you knew this thing, this
Somersault
, was coming so you should have prepared everybody for it.”

Kaspar shot back, “No, not true! I didn’t know about it until recently. Anyway Crebold, you know there’s no way to prepare. It’s
Chaos
; you can’t prepare for chaos or know how to handle it when it comes.” Kaspar turned to the others. “I have known all my life I was once a mechanic. But that’s irrelevant because I had none of the powers. I couldn’t have done anything to stop or fix what’s happening to us now. Neither can Crebold and he
is
a mechanic.”

“Kaspar, what
is
a Somersault? You said it’s Chaos?”

“You know Halley’s Comet? It’s visible to Earth every seventy-five years or so. Travels on an elliptical, two-hundred-year-long orbit toward and then away from the sun. They call it a ‘short period comet’ in contrast to long period comets whose orbits last thousands of years.

“Somersaults are like comets, only instead of being made up of ice and dust like dirty snowballs, they consist of only one thing—chaos. Because of that, their orbits are wildly unpredictable. We never know until the last minute when they’re approaching and it can be eons between appearances.”

Still pissed off at Crebold’s slight, Vanessa asked belligerently, “What’s an eon?”

“Technically, a million years. But if you want to be poetic—
eternity
. In other words an eternity can elapse between one Somersault and another. Or it can be a lot shorter, you never know.”

“What do they do when they come?”

Before Kaspar could answer, Crebold started speaking the strange language again. Edmonds leaned in and put a hand behind his ear to catch every word of the bizarre language. He thought the more he heard, the better chance he had of understanding.

Kaspar was glad for the interruption because he really didn’t know how to answer the question without causing even greater alarm. What do Somersaults
do
? As far as he knew (and had heard from those who’d witnessed the last one), they were like tornadoes the size of Jupiter that tear everything in their path into the smallest confetti and toss it indifferently in the air.

Chaos doesn’t
do
, it
undoes
.

What
was
a moment ago now
isn’t
when Chaos comes to town. What
was
solid is now liquid or soft or gas or gone. Things that were a hundred percent certain, definite, or guaranteed become instantly suspect once chaos arrives.

“He says chaos doesn’t
do
, it
undoes
.”

It took Kaspar a beat or two to come out of his mind-cave and register what Edmonds said. “What—
what
did he just say?”

Bill repeated the mechanic’s words. “He said ‘chaos doesn’t do, it undoes.’”

“Crebold, I thought the same thing! Two seconds ago I thought those exact words—the
exact
same ones.”

Jane heard the urgency in Kaspar’s voice. “Is it important? Does it mean something?”

Kaspar and Crebold stared at each other knowing damned well it was
very
important, although neither wanted to explain why to the others.

But Kaspar knew it was his responsibility. “We need to be straight with each other now and hold nothing back. No bullshitting around or mincing words. I don’t know when the next flip will come. As Dean said, it’s likely to send us off in different directions. We might not ever be together again. So if we can brainstorm right now, maybe we’ll come up with valuable and helpful things.

“What Crebold and I just experienced is something you could call ‘same-ing.’ We thought exactly the same thing at the same moment and used identical words to describe it: ‘Chaos doesn’t do, it undoes.’ Same-ing is a method mechanics use to fix certain problems, but neither of us used it this time—it was used
on
us. Right?” Kaspar looked at Crebold, who nodded.

Jane asked, “What does it mean—it was used
on
you?”

“This is the first time it’s ever happened to either of us. If it continues it could mean all of us are soon going to be thinking the same things, as if we have exactly the same mind. Six people, one brain.”

Crebold spoke again. Everyone looked at Edmonds for a translation. It was obvious from the stressed expression on his face he was having real trouble keeping up with the words. “He says the things mechanics do, like making those flips happen, understanding the Fourth Language, or this same-ing—it might be out of their control now. Like maybe the powers of mechanics have been taken away from them and are controlled by something else.” Edmonds looked at Crebold, who wiggled a hand back and forth to indicate Edmonds had gotten the gist of what he said right but not exactly.

“Controlled by what?”

Kaspar said, “This Somersault would be my guess. It’s Chaos. Wherever Chaos goes it causes havoc. Look at the craziness of what’s happened to us today: five people have the same dream. That in itself is insane—the same dream, five people? Then we’re
all
flipped and end up back here
in
the dream again, plus Crebold. But from one moment to the next he can only speak in the Fourth, which no one understands except—”

Crebold interrupted Kaspar. Edmonds listened to his babble a while before putting up both hands and almost yelling, “Slow
down
, man! It’s hard for me to understand; when you talk so fast I can’t get any of it. Slow down—just slow down.”

“Dean, look, it’s Muba.”

Dean Corbin faced away from his wife when she spoke so he had to turn around to see what she was talking about. Down the road the giant red elephant walked toward them. It clumped along at a slow steady pace until stopping twenty feet away. Crebold froze the moment he saw the beast. The expression in his eyes looked like he’d just been electrocuted.

“Look for the map on its side again. Maybe we’ll understand it now. Remember before we each saw a different one? Maybe something’s changed.”

Panicked, Crebold grabbed Edmonds’s arm and spoke quickly again. Bill shook his head and said, “Don’t worry—it’s okay, it’s safe. We saw it before and it’s friendly. You don’t have to be scared. Just don’t touch it.” Bill looked at Dean and smiled, remembering how he’d been hit in the face by the elephant’s trunk before.

Kaspar looked at the mechanic. “Oh
right
—you hate animals, don’t you? I remember once—”

Crebold glared and put his hands together as if praying or begging the other man to shut up. Kaspar stopped, despite a mean glint in his eye. He waggled an “I’ve got the goods on
you
” finger at his onetime colleague. “I own a dog now, Crebold. Did you know? A gray pit bull named D Train. Wait till you meet him—you two will get along great.”

Crebold gave him the finger.

“Kaspar, could you come here?” Vanessa stood with the others near Muba. The others were looking intently at the map on the side of the elephant. It swung its trunk lazily back and forth but otherwise stood still. Vanessa pointed to something on the map for Dean to see. A few steps away Edmonds and Jane watched. While Kaspar walked over, Crebold slowly took as many steps backward as he could without being too conspicuous in his retreat from the elephant.

“Yes, yes there!
Now
I see it! Kaspar, come and look at this.” Dean pointed to a spot on the map, although careful not to actually touch the elephant’s red hide.

Kaspar got up close but not before looking to see if Muba was okay with that—he remembered it whacking Dean in the face.

The Corbins and Kaspar Benn stood together, Jane and Edmonds just behind, all five of them studying the distinct markings on the animal’s side.

“
There!
Do you see that?”

“No, show me.”

Dean stabbed a stiff finger at different parts of the map.

Kaspar nodded slowly.

“Vanessa saw it first. She’s the one who pointed it out.”

“
What?
What is it?” Jane went up on tiptoes for a better look.

“Yes! I see it too.” Edmonds’s voice was high with excitement.

Whatever “it” was on the map, everyone saw it now but Jane. Distraught, she wailed, “
See what?
What do you see?”

FOUR

The next thing she knew, Jane was perched on one of the leather stools back at her bar. The place was very hot, packed with people, full of movement, and
loud
. It looked like it usually did on a weekend night, filled mostly with lively couples laughing and flirting. Some were dancing to a Billy Joel song on the sound system playing in the background. The few singles in the thick crowd scanned the room with faces full of high hope and desire while at the same time trying to look as cool and removed as actors in a French New Wave film.

Naturally after this latest flip Jane had no idea what day or year it was in her past. But it had to be fairly recent if she was in the bar and everything around her looked familiar. As casually as possible, she asked Tiko the beautiful bartender what the date was today. Tiko glanced at her hefty black rubber wristwatch. “Friday the twelfth.”

“The twelfth of what? I’m really out of it today.”

“September. Do you want anything to drink, Jane? Something to clear your head?”

“Yes, a very good idea. Could I have a large glass of that Ardbeg single malt please?”

“Wow, sure.” Tiko smiled because Ardbeg was their most expensive whisky and her boss usually drank only club soda.

Jane wore the black ski parka she had on in the dream. It was so hot in the room that she quickly took it off and draped it over her lap. But first she slid her hand into the pockets. In the left was a large folded piece of paper. She felt it a moment to see if touch alone would stir a memory of what it was but nothing came to her. She thought it was the list she’d just been reading to the others. Pulling it out, she unfolded it on the bar. Her fingers had lied—there was not one but two folded sheets.

The first was filled with detailed precise drawings of mysterious figures and what looked like machines, single numbers underlined several times, symbols, and abstruse-looking scientific formulas. Also strings of words and sentences written in several languages Jane didn’t recognize except for one in Cyrillic and several in Greek. As a whole, the paper looked like some kind of recondite illuminated manuscript from the Middle Ages.

She did not know it but this was the first drawing Kaspar Benn had done on the airplane after he woke up from last night’s shared dream.

The second page was covered with seventy-two identically rendered glass ink bottles. The pencil drawings were done in photo-realistic detail. It was uncanny how much they looked like the real thing. The only thing distinguishing one from the other were lettered labels on each bottle naming the color of ink contained inside—celadon, cerise, burnt sienna, periwinkle … It was the drawing Kaspar had done on the cab ride in from the Vienna airport.

Tiko brought the whisky and lingered to see how her boss was going to drink the liquid gold. Only one customer had ordered it in all the time she’d worked there and he was reputed to be one of the richest men in the state. Jane ignored the glass and kept smoothing the drawings on the bar as if she could eliminate all the wrinkles if she just kept sweeping her hand across the two papers.

“What are those?”

So intent was Jane on studying Kaspar’s papers that she glanced up and peered at Tiko as if she were a stranger. “Oh, um, I don’t know. But they’re really interesting, don’t you think? I found them in my pocket.”

“How weird, Jane—you don’t
know
how they got in your pocket? Did someone put them there?”

Jane reached for the whisky. “Dunno—maybe.” She took a swig of the Ardbeg and pouted as it slid strong smoky spices down her throat. Then she went back to examining the wrinkled papers. Tiko walked off to serve a customer, gesturing to her from the other end of the bar.

A few minutes later someone nearby asked in a fast rat-a-tat voice, “Are you doing your homework?”

Jane turned and was almost nose to nose with Marlena Salloum peering shamelessly over her shoulder at the papers. A bar regular and casual friend, Marley was a professor of religion at the college. She had a good heart but was skittery as a hummingbird and just as easily distracted. She was also a big snoop who always wanted to know what was going on in your life.

“Marley, look at this paper and tell me if you see anything on it that makes sense to you.” Jane slid the first Kaspar sheet with the numbers, enigmatic figures, and unrecognizable words on it down the bar to her friend, who now sat on an adjacent stool.

The professor dug a pair of glasses out of her faded jean jacket and slid them on. Immediately she pointed to three figures near the middle of the paper. “
These
three are letters from the Phoenician alphabet used around 1,400 BC. This letter is a
zayin
, which the Greeks called ‘zeta.’ It was also commonly used to represent a weapon of some sort, like a sword. The middle letter is a
kaph
, the eleventh letter of that alphabet. It also represents the palm of your hand. And this last one is a
daleth
, which means a door or a portal. The Greeks turned it into ‘delta.’” Marley spent more time looking over the paper before sliding it back. “I don’t recognize anything else there. Have you taken up the study of ancient scripts? I’m impressed. You should enroll in one of my classes.”