Vurt (31 page)
Felt like my back was fire. He stabbed again.
Christ!
The pain was unbearable. I was trying my best to pull away, but his strength was too much for me. I felt the razor tearing its way out of the small of my back, ready for another strike.
"Father, please. . ."
Wait. . .
"It is all that you deserve, wretched boy!" But as he spoke the feather was loose in his mouth.
This isn't real!
He cursed me then. Called me a sister fucker.
This is Vurt! Jerk out!
The razor biting into me.
No! No, don't jerk out! I was getting the story. There is no jerkout. It just starts again. This is Curious Yellow. And that isn't my father under me. It's my sister. It's Desdemona! This is just a Vurt father. He's living inside Desdemona. There is no going back. No jerking out. You can only go forward.
The razor was cutting into my skin again. The pain was terrible. Blood on my father's face. Must have been my blood.
Never mind that.
A sudden glimpse of Desdemona's eyes looking back at me from my father's face and her voice telling me to --
Push the feather in!
It took everything I had left, fighting against all the rage and madness, until I had the feather wedged up against the top of his mouth. He bit down hard again but I was too far gone by then, too full up of despair.
Shove it!
Deep to my father's throat. Which was Desdemona's throat. Where it belongs.
Immediately his body starts to fall away. The razor slips free of my skin. I pull the Curious out of his mouth and take it into mine.
Please, God, I'm right on this one.
Where it belongs.
My father screaming somewhere. . .
And Desdemona's voice coming through clear. . .
But Scribble, we're already in Curious Yellow. How can we --
looking good Stephen cheers looking good Stephen cheers looking good Stephen cheers cheers my face bathed in yellow light which is bathed in yellow light which is
!!!!!WARNING!!!!!
which is a man's blade the blade swinging for me in the mirror of the mirror of the mirror curiouser and curiouser the blade swinging a thousand times as it
Layers upon layers. . .
!!!!!WARNING!!!!!
each the reflection of the other as it
What was that voice?
one thousand times through the yellow air which is yellow upon yellow as it as it looking good stephen
!!!!!WARNING. YOU ARE NOW IN METAVURT!!!!!
cheers as it as it curiouser and curiouser as the blade swinging for desdemona
What is happening?!
one thousand knives reflected each one sharp as sharp as the mirror as they as they cut into my sister who was
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?
who was clinging to me who was clinging to me covered in blood
That voice. I know that voice. It is the voice of. . .
her own age at last nineteen years old and in my arms as I saw the thousands cuts being made each cut being made twice the real and the image
YOU ARE SERIOUSLY FUCKING UP MY SYSTEMS!
desdemona sister
That voice! It was the voice of. . .
falling away from me in blood as I clung on tight to her one thousand times as I my father reflected in the mirror reflected in the mirror reflected in the mirror reflected as I as I saw the blades coming in again sister
PLEASE EXPLAIN YOURSELF!
It was the voice of Sniffing General.
OH IT'S YOU. I MIGHT HAVE KNOWN. S
Sniffing General. . . can you. . .
I HOPE YOU REALISE. . .
blood all over
What's happening, General? Can you help me?
. . .THE TROUBLE YOU'RE CAUSING ME.
Tell me!
YOU"VE GONE META. NOT JUST ANY OLD META.
sister screaming from the cuts
MIRROR META. YOU'RE DOING CURIOUS. . .
curiouser and curiouser
. . .INSIDE OF CURIOUS. NOBODY DOES THAT! NOBODY!
Get me out. Get us both out!
THERE IS NO WAY. YOU'RE CAUGHT IN A LOOP.
our father digging his one thousand ways through desdemona as he cutting as he smiling
You've got to, General!
IT CAN'T BE DONE. . . I DON'T KNOW HOW. . . NO ONE'S EVER. . .
Blow that Choke out of your nose and do it!
IT JUST CAN'T BE DONE! HOBART. . . SHE'LL. . .
sister falling apart
It just gets worse, General.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
taking the silver feather reflected one thousand times out of my pocket DON'T DO THAT!
sister reaching out for me as she as she reached out for me bleeding and the bleeding was bleeding the wounds were wounded
You think I have a choice, General?
PLEASE!
I pushed the silver sniffing general feather in as I as I pushed the silver feather in over the top of the curious yellow
THAT'S ME YOU'RE PUSHING IN!
I need a door, General. . .
two feathers at once who's ever done that before?
NOBODY DOES THAT. . . SCRIBBLE! SCRIBBLE! IT HURTS!
Tough shit.
the silver coming on the yellow which was yellow in the yellow silver in the yellow in the yellow the thousand mirrors cracking. . . as I. . .
father swinging the razor at my sister. . . as I. . .
waiting for the menu to scroll. . .
EDIT
CLONE
HELP. . .
menu stops. . .
as I stopped my father's hand... WON'T LET YOU.
Shit! What number was the door? What number!
YOU'RE MAKING A FOOL OF ME, SCRIBBLE. I WONT ALLOW IT.
that's enough, father. . . as I. . .
What number was the door? What number?!
as I took the razor from his hand and then I. . . HOBART WILL PUNISH ME!
Four for a door. Four for a door. That's it.
as I pushed the razor into my. . . NO!!!!!
as I pushed the razor into my father's eye. . . coming back to me now the feelings as I as I thought about the number four my father screaming with his hands coming up to his eyes as I got the menu up to my eyes. . .
BLUE
BLACK
I'M NOT GIVING YOU THE MENU.
That's okay, Sniffer. I don't need it any more.
as I thought about the number five
Five for alive.
a door opening up as the mirror broke and our father was putting red hands up to his eyes and the door opened in his eyes and I could see the trees of platt fields through the holes in his eyes
"Sniffing General. . ."
A new voice.
HOBART. . . MISS. . . I AM SORRY.
"What is the problem?"
I was pushing des towards the door in father's eyes NOTHING I CAN'T HANDLE, MISS HOBART.
"I am trying to stay asleep, General. Please explain."
desdemona won't go through she's clinging to me dragging me along as well
WE'VE GOT A MIRROR META IN CURIOUS YELLOW, WITH AN ILLEGAL LIFE-DOOR BREACH PLUS AN UNAUTHORIZED SWAPBACK ATTEMPT WITHOUT ADEQUATE EXCHANGE MATERIAL.
"Is that all."
MISS HOBART. . .
Please, Scribble. . . come with me.
my sister talking to me. . .
It can't happen, Des. It just can't
"Don't make me angry, general." MISS HOBART. . . PLEASE. . .
so I'm thinking about the number one whilst they argue number one for a blue world seeing the thousands of blue names scroll down thinking about P for pleasure
"Where are we, Scribble?"
My sister and I sitting on the park bench in Pleasureville, listening to the birds singing and watching the play of dappled light on the newly cut lawn. Kids are skipping. No sign of the postman. I had two, maybe three minutes before the General dragged me away from this sweet blue world. I had my sister with me, and she looked happy at last, just like I remembered her. That was Pleasureville Blue for you.
"We're inside a Vurt, Des." "It's lovely."
"What do you remember?"
Her smile faded for a second as she searched through her memories. "Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all, except that the world is beautiful and that you are my brother and that we should just stay here forever. Shall we do that, Scribble?"
"No." Her eyes went blank for a moment, filled with a blue void. "This isn't the real world, Des. The real world is not beautiful, but it's where you belong. No, don't try to understand. Just believe what I'm saying. I'm sending you back, Des. If I can."
"You're coming with me, Scribble?"
"I don't belong there, sister. This is my place. This is what I am." "Scribble!"
"It can't happen, Des. It just can't. I love you too much. Or you don't love me enough."
Which adds up to the same thing. The same pile of bones.
I looked deep into my sister's blue eyes, saw the truth there, and then looked away. Sister said nothing. A boy and a girl sitting on a park bench on a sunny day, the girl looking into the sun, the boy with his head in his hands.
THERE YOU ARE! I'VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER.
"Hobart's telling you to deal with it, General." YOU'RE ASKING THE IMPOSSIBLE, SIR.
"Send my sister back!"
SHE HAS NOTHING TO EXCHANGE WITH. IT CANNOT BE --
"I'm staying here." OH. . .
"Scribble! What's happening?" My sister's voice calling. . .
IN THAT CASE. . . JUST LET ME CHECK THE CONSTANT. . .
"Scribble. Please don't. . ."
She was holding tight to my hand, trying to pull me with her. But I was firmly rooted now, working the Vurt like I was born to it.
"You know the truth, Des. Keep the faith. Don't stop thinking about me." My father's eyes opening, blood-red in a blue Pleasureville sky.
"Scribble!!!!!!"
THERE. I HAVE IT NOW. . . THAT'S FINE, SIR.
"Just do it!"
and desdemona falling away the touch of her fingers the gift of her eyes falling falling into the eyes of our father and through to where I could catch glimpses of the shifting branches and the moon on the lake in the park where the world is good and the rain is tender. . .
I pull Curious Yellow out of my mouth, leaving the silver there. All the layers fall away until I'm seeing only darkness.
I SUPPOSE WE OUGHT TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOU?
"I guess so," I answer. The menu scrolls down.
BLUE
BLACK
PINK
SILVER
LIFE
CAT
YELLOW
HOBART
PLEASE SELECT YOUR DOOR OPTION. NOT THAT YOU'VE GOT MUCH CHOICE. . .
"Give me a six, please. . . General." Falling. . .
Sniffing General was sitting behind his desk, lining up three lines of Choke powder.
"By God I need this."
I didn't say anything. Game Cat's door lay just beyond.
"I'm in trouble with Miss Hobart now." He paused between sniffs. "It's all got to be accounted for, you know? She'll want a full report. That's a lot of work, and I blame you entirely. She almost woke up then. Do you know the consequences of Miss Hobart waking up? Before the right time? Do you? If she should stop dreaming? Why, it's unthinkable. We'd all be out of a job. Including you, Mr Scribble. . ."
He looked up at me. "Sir. . . are you crying. . .?"
I don't know what I was doing. Only that my back was killing me. I felt weak, and the room was swaying slightly.
"Here. . . can I. . ." Sniffing General was rising from his desk, clutching a paper tissue. I don't know what I looked like but the General stopped in his tracks before he even got close.
"My god. . . you've been cut. . . let me. . ."
"That's alright, General. I'd like to see the Cat, please." "Straight away, sir."
I started to collapse.
But the office door was open now.
The Game Cat waiting there to greet me.
DAY FOREVER
"And sometimes, just sometimes. . ."
The fool's card is pinned to the wall in front of me. The silver feather replaced in the Cat's cabinet.
There are one thousand things in this room, and I am just one of them; living amongst objects and gifts. Writing all this up on an antique word processor; some desperate swap for some desperate feather.
The Cat's over in his armchair, drinking his wine, working on next week's issue.
He likes to write with pen and ink; the future with the past.
I'm forty-one now. I feel about twenty-five or so. Look it, too. Living in Vurt really slows down the rote of change. God knows how old the Game Cat is. He looks a youthful fifty.
Twenty years.
Twenty years gone by, since Mandy first stepped out of that all-night Vurt-U- Want. Do they still have those places? I don't keep up with life. Real life. Sure, the Cat tells me stories now and again. How Des and Twinkle share a house somewhere. With the kid. That's right Des was pregnant when she came out of the Yellow. About five hours pregnant. Game Cat claims that the kid is mine, spawned halfway between Vurt and real; when Desdemona was inside Cinders that time, and we were making love, unprotected, on a Catholic bed. I don't know if that's possible. I don't know what is, and what isn't possible. The Cat says that it's a first; impregnating one woman, whilst making love to another. He reckons that's not bad going for some guy who wasn't very good with women.
I don't know.
Das Uber dog is getting old by now, as dogmen will; he's very high up in the music industry, in partnership with Dingo Tush. Bridget doesn't seem to feature. The Cat
can find no traces. She's out there, somewhere, waiting to happen. Cinders and Barnie have split. I don't know where the chef is. Cinders would be too old now for starring in porno feathers, so I don't get to see her. Maybe I should find out where she is, what she's doing. The Cat took me down a few times, through door number five. We'd spend a few hours just wandering around, unseen, underhanded, looking for stories. The Cat loves it. I don't know. . . it didn't appeal somehow, all those candid shots, made me feel like a ghost.
Sometimes I ask the Sniffing General for a door access; a blue or a black.
There's this new actress just coming up. Her feather name is Blush. She's twenty years old, very good at what she does, full of Vurt. Blush is a natural. She looks a lot like Desdemona, a little like me. She's going to be famous.