The Beard, page 12
Instead we splashed into water, going deep. Once I saw that father had successfully escaped the van, I grabbed the flame and swam through the window. At first the water stung my eyes but I kept them open, seeing some faint light at what had to be the surface. I looked at the flame and noticed that it continued to burn under water. A fire that burns in the water. This was truly a magical urn I held. I was almost eager to meet the people who worshipped such a thing. It seemed so much more real and magical than a lot of other things to worship.
Two of the bodyguards swam to either side of me, grabbing hold of my arms and speeding my swim for the surface. Our heads broke through the water and I looked around to make sure Dad had made it okay. He was also flanked by two bodyguards. The other three were probably trying to salvage the van but it was a lost cause.
At first I thought maybe this was the fabled Malefic Ocean but, after spitting some water out of my mouth, I realized it was not salt water. So we were once again in a vast lake and it wouldn’t really have surprised me if this vast lake was the same vast lake we had to cross so many miles ago. Really, with such an unchanging landscape it would have been entirely possible to just drive around in circles for hours or days and not really know the difference. I envisioned some mad engineer constructing a circular road in that uniform landscape. It would be a pretty heinous joke but I didn’t really see what end it could possibly be good for.
“You okay?” Dad shouted.
“Fine. You?”
“Fine. Did you remember the flame?”
“No. I guess we’ll have to go back down for it.”
“Shit.”
“Just kidding.” I held up the flame, glowing brighter than ever.
“Bastard,” he said under his breath.
I began swimming but, apparently, the bodyguards couldn’t really stand to see me exert myself so they immediately flanked me again. They were much better swimmers than I. We reached the other shore in no time. I had to squint my eyes against the bright lights. These were not the fluorescent lights of the City of No like I had at first feared. These were lights of buildings, trains, cars, advertising, life... Curious, I thought, that what we often called life is completely the opposite. Maybe it was a sign that living things were actively doing something but, all of that light, all of that electricity, all of that fuel, was actually sucking away at life, using up the earth’s resources, filling the air with toxins that we breathe in every day, killing us even quicker. Unfortunately, this city was at the top of what was nearly a cliff.
The other three bodyguards were already at the top. They had fastened rope ladders and unfurled them down the face of the cliff. I had no idea how they made it up there. I grabbed onto the lowest rung and began pulling myself up but one of the bodyguards insisted, through a series of complicated hand gestures, that I mount his back. So I did. It was very hard to argue with someone who didn’t talk. I climbed on a bodyguard’s back and the other one crept up behind us, his hand on my ass to keep me supported. It was like being strapped into a roller coaster. If either of them let go I would have gone tumbling back down into the water, possibly even damage myself on the jutting rocks of the cliff. But I had complete and total faith in them. Even when someone began shooting at us from above.
They shot at me first. I assumed this was because I was the easier target since I held the flame and, therefore, gave them something to shoot at. The bodyguard whose back I rode upon took a bullet in the head and, whereas the other bodyguards had died after taking bullets, he kept on going. Granted, his head did become a giant flower but it was a flower with a sense of direction. One of the bodyguards at the top of the cliff must have apprehended or driven away the shooter before he could get off a more accurate round.
It took us a while but we finally reached the top. Collectively, we struggled over the edge. I hopped off the bodyguard and straightened myself up. The bodyguard with the flower head dropped dead as soon as I got off his back. That left six. Hopefully, we wouldn’t lose any more. Even though they had absolutely no personality I found myself growing close to them, admiring them for their grim determination.
“I’m guessing this still isn’t the place we want to be, is it?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dad said. “But we may be closer than you think.”
“How so?”
“Somewhere in that city is a ship that will take us past the island of the Nefarions. All we have to do is find it and book passage.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“You haven’t been in this city before.”
“Have you?”
“Once. A long time ago.”
I turned my gaze toward the city. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of skyscrapers rose into the night sky. The whole city pulsed with so much light that it threw a corona out into the surrounding night sky. The buildings were all covered in huge screens, flashing advertisements for various products and, it looked like, even people. A huge sign flashed at the entrance to the city: WELCOME HOME. WELCOME HOME. WELCOME HOME. Approaching the city, several things became apparent. There was an awful smell. Like mounds and mounds of garbage and maybe some vomit and piss, wafting out. And the sounds, from this far away, were like loud white noise, occasionally punctuated by gunfire, squealing brakes, sirens, honking, the clatter and whistle of trains.
“The important thing to remember,” Dad said just before we entered the city. “Is to try not to talk to anyone. There will be many people trying to sell you things and if you talk to them they will not leave you alone. I find a good punch to the stomach works with most of them.”
Sounded like fun.
We entered the city, the six remaining bodyguards forming as much of a wall as they could.
Twenty-six
A clear plastic wall, about twelve feet high, surrounded the city for as far as I could see. A man in a uniform very similar to a police officer’s stood outside the wall. He held out his hand in a “stop” gesture. Strapped to his back was a large, clear bucket, filled with various coins and bills.
“You’ll have to pay the toll if you want to get into the city.”
I remembered what Dad said about not talking to anyone so I kept my mouth shut.
“You can’t make us pay to go in there.”
“Can you read this?” he said, pointing to a patch on the left side of his chest.
“Actually, I can’t,” Dad said.
“You must not be from around here then.”
“What language is that?”
It looked like a bunch of symbols and things only resembling letters.
“That’s the new Universal Language. Anyway, it says ‘Travelease.’ In case you don’t know, Travelease owns all the sidewalks in the city. So if you plan on using the sidewalks, you’ll have to pay.”
“Then we’ll just walk on the road,” Dad said.
“One: that’s illegal. Two: do you really want to walk on them?” He gestured through the gate, into the city. The sidewalk was relatively clean but the road seemed to be filled with at least an inch of something resembling raw sewage.
Dad decided to react the same way he always had when he didn’t want to pay something—with extreme anger.
“That’s outrageous!” he cried. “What kind of city is this? Sewage in the streets! Some hokey Universal Language!”
The guard cut him off. “Now now, best not to go insulting the city like that. The Universal Language was the easiest way for all the businesses to communicate with everyone without offending anyone. If you don’t like it, you can just walk around.”
One of the bodyguards approached the guard just as Dad drew back his fist, most probably to punch the uniformed man in the stomach, and offered him a wad of cash. I couldn’t really tell if the guard could see the bodyguard or not, but he took the money and put it into the canister fastened to his back, turning to press a button embedded in the gate. It swooshed back into itself and the guard said, “You folks have a pleasant evening in Home City.”
The eight of us walked into the city. The sidewalks were jammed with people, all of them ducking into the shopfronts, looking at all the garish advertising, talking, arguing and fighting with one another. A man came up to us and said, “Hey hey! Y’all need a tour guide. Can’t do the city right without a tour guide. And you,” he pointed to me. “You need some shoes. I’ve got a pair right here that would fit you real nice.” He bent down and began taking off his shoes. We collectively ignored him.
Our group continued walking. He followed after us for a while, continuing to squawk. The road was jammed with cars and trucks, taxis. The smell of exhaust mixing with the sewage was overwhelming. People came out of the shops carrying armloads of things. Some of them went straight to a dumpster where they dumped all of their purchases before going into the next store. All the stores were very brightly lighted and filled with people. I heard one woman call out, “Watches are the most important thing in the world to me!” before collapsing onto the middle of the showroom floor.
On the other side of the street was a church. It was one of the tallest buildings, the steeple rising absurdly into the sky. I couldn’t be sure but I think it had a radio tower at the top of it. Over the door, a sign flashed in the Universal Language. In fact, all of the signs were in this Universal Language so I didn’t know what any of them were for. Most of them were advertisements but I didn’t know what they were advertising unless there was some kind of picture along with the words. The church had a strip club on the left hand side and a bar on the right hand side. A priest or minister or whatever waited outside each venue, waiting to lure people into the church as they came out. The strip club must have been a hundred stories tall, a girl dancing in each window. Of course they weren’t naked. Nudity, here, would probably cost a fortune.
We continued moving.
“If I were a travel agent,” Dad said. “Where would I be?”
The onion-faced bus driver came out from behind one of the buildings and, before I even knew what I was doing, I ducked behind one of the bodyguards. Onionhead fired off a round and another bodyguard went down. The other five formed a wall between Onionhead and me and Dad. She ran back behind the building and I wondered why she didn’t just stay and try to pick off the remaining five bodyguards. Dad seemed oblivious to it all. He was counting on his fingers and looking up into his head as if trying to remember some vital bit of information. I just stood there and watched him, hating almost everything around me. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to make it here. My head pounded. My thoughts swam. A group of men in front of us had formed a ladder, trying to make it to the second story of a building, muttering something about “Control.”
People dashed on every side of us, bumping into us, pushing us.
“I can’t hear myself think!” Dad shouted. “Quick! Follow me!”
He picked up his pace. Now two bodyguards walked in front of us, two behind us, and one on the side facing the street. We reached the end of the block and turned left into an alleyway. When we came out of the alleyway we stood in what I guessed was the center of Home City. Everything here was even larger and gaudier than what we had left behind. Dad ducked into another alley until we were behind yet another building. It wasn’t even dark in these areas. There were advertisements targeted at the homeless. It offered them essentials like food, cigarettes, and alcohol in exchange for organs. All of this I picked up from the pictograms accompanying the ads. Dad found something that resembled a giant plug with a giant cord coming from it. He grabbed it and, after struggling with it for a few moments, a couple of the bodyguards helped him tug the plug out of the socket. Once the plug was out, the city went quiet.
“There,” Dad said.
I imagine he thought this would bring about some sort of calm but it was just the opposite. Pandemonium broke out. There were loud explosions. Single gunshots became submachinegun fire. Cars rammed into each other and just kept going. Mobs and riots broke out. Looting ensued. Still, the noises of humans destroying one another and the buildings around them was quieter than the technodrone of the powered city.
“We’d probably better get out of here,” Dad said. “God only knows what will happen if they find out we’re the ones who pulled the plug.”
We all took off running back down the alley, trying to avoid the main throngs of people. Eventually, we came to a building resembling a giant ship and Dad slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. This is what we had been looking for. He opened the door and we filed in. A pirate-looking man sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by candles. He held a broadsword and an antique pistol, just waiting for someone to break in although his door wasn’t locked. He raised the pistol and fired. Another bodyguard went down. Now we were down to four.
“Wait! Wait!” Dad said, waving his hands wildly in front of him. “We’re here to book a passage.”
I almost thought the guy would talk with some sort of trite pirate accent but he just said, “Where do you want to go?” In his voice was the boredom of someone who has been everywhere, always in search of something new and exciting and finding nothing.
“We need to go to the island of the Nefarions,” Dad said.
“That can be arranged,” he said. “It won’t be cheap.”
“I didn’t figure it would be.”
“When would you like to go?” he asked.
“As soon as possible.”
“We have a ship leaving in the morning. Is that soon enough?”
“That’ll be fine,” Dad said.
“How many people?”
“Just two?”
“Two.” I wasn’t sure if this man could see the bodyguards either. I would have thought I was crazy if it wasn’t for all the physical, tangible things they had done for us.
“Very well,” the man said. “It’s all set.”
“How much?” Dad asked.
“How much do you have?”
Dad dug into his pockets and handed the man what amounted to about twenty dollars.
“Not enough,” the man said.
The bodyguards stepped forward and rained money down onto the man.
“I think that’ll be just fine. You’ll board just over the hill outside the city. Do you have a place to stay this evening?”
“We can’t stay here,” Dad said.
“Of course not. Why would you want to? On top of the hill there is a large tree. Under that tree is a small shack equipped with beds and covers. You’re welcome to stay there. If there’s someone inside just tell them to get out. You may have to fight them.”
“Thank you,” Dad said.
We exited the building and began making our way to the other side of the city. Since everything was so large, we had a lot further to walk than we had thought at first. A bodyguard got in front of me and crouched down. I hopped on his back. Dad did the same even though he couldn’t see that he was hopping onto a back. The bodyguards moved at a gallop and we reached the edge of the city just as the power came back. It was like a continuous shriek of feedback. A guard stood at the gates and tried to charge us for leaving. He was dressed in a much shabbier uniform than the first guard. His looked like it had been pulled from the trash. Dad punched him in the stomach and the gates opened. Astride our bodyguards, we made our way to the hill with the really big tree at the top of it.
Twenty-seven
Through the balmy night, we eventually reached the shack. One of the four remaining bodyguards threw open the door to reveal two beds on the floor. A very hairy man slept in each bed. Two bodyguards went to each bed, bending down and gruffly shaking each of the bearded men. The men sprung up from the bed, surprised, quickly glancing around the semi-darkened interior of the shack. Thinking they were in some kind of trouble, they quickly rushed for the front door, my father and I standing aside to let them pass. Dad looked at me and clunked his plank arm against his forehead. This was a new habit he had developed ever since his arm had changed. It seemed to imply that he was thinking of something.
“Tired?” he asked.
“A little. But I’m kind of afraid to sleep.”
“We should probably try. We’ll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
The shack had four windows. A bodyguard stood in front of each window, their backs to us, looking out at the night. I sat the flame by the bed on the left and lay down.
“This could be a lot worse,” I said.
“Indeed,” Dad said.
He lay down also, placing his hand behind his head and letting the plank clunk out onto the floor.
“So we might actually make it there tomorrow, huh?” I asked.
“Looks like it.”
“I think we’re doing the right thing.”
“I hope so.”
“Even if we don’t find Mom or Grandpa, I still think we’re doing the right thing.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I just feel like, if we don’t come away with at least one of them, it will all have been in vain. I just want to get home. I feel like I’ve lost all my disguises. I’ve peeled away... years from my life and now I want to get on with how things are supposed to be.”
“That makes sense. But think about it... Especially after leaving Home City... Think about how pure the Nefarions’ culture must be. They live on an island they wouldn’t leave if they didn’t have to fuck with things in our world and all they really had was this flame. That was all they needed to keep them happy. That was all they needed to stay on the island. We’re not like that. Look at the people in Home City. They needed constant entertainment...”
“Yeah, most of them don’t even sleep anymore.”
“And, you know, when they get tired of that city, they’re going to go somewhere else, probably some harmless inoffensive small town, and rape that until it suits the corporations’ needs.”
“There’s no escaping that though, David. It’s capitalism. That’s the way things work. They have to work that way to support our lifestyle.”
