Where'd You Park Your Spaceship?, page 42
Which isn’t surprising.
But there it is.
Something about the job.
About doing a good job.
Performing. Achieving. Accomplishing.
I don’t know.
I’m probably making more of it than it is.
But that. That tone. That catch in her voice.
Young.
That’s it.
Youth.
I didn’t notice these kinds of things before.
Earlier.
Like when Sir Pong showed up on Yorch and I just
wanted him to acknowledge me.
Or Ma’am Neffi. How quickly she evoked that feeling
within me of being fourteen.
That’s what it is.
This is the first I’ve seen Noon Yeah actually doing the
job.
Everything before this was her talking-US talking.
But this.
Tracking Dill Tudd.
This is why she came to Firdus.
And I’m mucking it up.
Got that right.
I’m muckin’ it up with all I got.
Do you want to see if Dill Tudd wants to get some
breakfast with us?
She looks like she wants to hit me.
Uhhh…NO…and NO!!!
I’m hungry-
Stop talking! He just handed the pink hut person
something.
Dill Tudd bows and he’s off.
Noon Yeah and Heen Gru-Bares IN HOT PURSUIT!!!
I say it like I’m narrating a play.
Noon Yeah does not find this funny.
Oh come on, you enjoyed that. Just a little.
She’s already off, down the trail.
We follow Dill Tudd past the library, up through the
woods. We’re sitting on a little hill, watching him down
below having an intense conversation with a couple who
are each holding a snake.
I lean over and say to Noon Yeah I feel bad that I didn’t
show up for work today.
She keeps her eyes fixed on Dill Tudd.
No worries, it’s all taken care of.
Wait. What’s taken care of?
Today. And tomorrow. And the next day-
Taken care of? That is way too vague-
I told Lan Zing that I was surprising you with a little trip.
But you had no right to-
She turns to face me.
By the way-why don’t you use your vacation days? You
haven’t used ONE of them. Who does that? Or maybe I
should say WHO DOESN’T DO THAT?
I’m so thrown off by this.
You arranged for me to take time off?
Uh-huh.
So no one at the bakery is expecting me today?
Correct.
But what if I had gone in today?
You wouldn’t have.
Why not?
She holds up her wrist and points to where the wire was. I
wouldn’t have let you.
We follow Dill Tudd all morning.
He stops and talks to people.
He pets dogs and cats and birds. And snakes.
He makes little kids laugh.
He tells stories.
And everybody, everybody gets something from his bag.
Is this a route?
Are these appointments?
Do they know he’s coming?
Did they agree earlier to this time and this place?
I had noticed him talking to people before.
But not like this.
The extent of it.
The sheer endurance alone is astonishing.
We’re hiding behind a yogurt machine in a park. I’m
pressed up against her side because it not a very large
yogurt machine.
Does he ever eat? I ask her.
Baffling, isn’t he? His stamina alone is incredible. A hint of admiration in her voice.
Morning turns into afternoon.
Afternoon into early evening.
He’s in that park where the old men play chess.
He says hello to the woman who makes the tacos under
that tree with the light blue leaves.
He exits the park on the far side and then turns left
between two houses. This takes him down into a gully.
We stay close.
But not too close.
On other side of the gully he climbs up a steep incline and
turns left into a thicket.
Moments later we get to the thicket.
It’s dense and scratchy and it’s got all kinds of vines and
bushes and branches.
How did he step so easily into this?
Over here Noon Yeah motions to me.
There’s an opening in the bramble.
Slight. But if you know where to look there’s a path.
I bend down and follow her.
We make our way down a long embankment, under a
huge tree that has fallen over, and into a small canyon.
The canyon narrows as we find ourselves walking through
a section with rocks higher than our heads on either side.
This takes a while.
It’s a little claustrophobic.
I keep reminding myself to breathe.
It opens up into a flat, wide stretch of field with tall grass
in every direction.
Noon Yeah finds his footprints.
We weave in among the clumps of grass.
I can’t see anything other than the grass.
Where are we?
Noon Yeah doesn’t respond.
Does anyone live out here?
I’m talking to myself.
How long ago was it that we last saw any buildings?
She ignores me.
We haven’t seen him in at least an hour, or has it been
longer?
She stops.
She turns right.
This way.
A breeze stirs the grass. On any other day I would find the
noise this makes relaxing.
I’m not going to watch Noon Yeah GRAIN Dill Tudd.
I’m going to stop Noon Yeah from GRAINING Dill Tudd.
Yes, that’s it.
That’s how it’s going to go.
She messed with the wrong SERIES 5, I tell myself.
Earnestly.
There’s a hill up ahead.
It curves away from us on the right and left.
At the top are large, jagged rock outcroppings.
The closer we get, the taller they get.
They’re actually cliffs.
They look like broken teeth.
I turn around.
All I can see behind us is tall grass.
I look ahead.
More grass and then those cliffs.
Where did he go?
It’s like a magic trick.
What he did.
Disappearing like this.
I get right up behind Noon Yeah.
You’re never going to catch him I whisper.
She raises her heel and kicks me in the jewels.
I keel over on all fours.
No taunting, I tell myself.
I get up and stumble after her.
We arrive at the edge of the grass field. The hill is way,
way steeper than I first realized. Trees and boulders are
scattered all the way up. Noon Yeah turns left and walks
between the grass and the slope.
She stops.
There’s a mess of stumps and branches and leaves and
vines where the grass meets the incline. It looks like a
giant grabbed a handful of woods and then got bored and
dropped it right here in a pile.
Noon Yeah stands still, staring at something.
I stand next to her.
Her hands are on her hips.
I put my hands on my hips.
She bites her lower lip.
She looks to the right, she looks to the left.
She stares ahead.
And then I see it.
I see what she’s looking at.
There’s a door.
A wooden door.
You can’t see it, and then you can.
In among all those trunks and branches.
You could walk by this spot a thousand times and you’d
miss it every time.
But this is her job.
She’s doing her job.
She finds the door.
I do, too.
I step towards it.
Noon Yeah grabs my arm and pulls me back. NO!
I give her my best Dill Tudd head tilt. How DARE YE GIVE
ME A NO!!! YES I SAY!
I’m even talking like him.
I turn and head towards the door again.
She yanks me back. It could be booby trapped!!!
I look at her like she’s five. Did you just say BOOBY
TRAP?
She wants to laugh, I know it.
Booby trap? First off, is that even still a thing- BOOBY
TRAPS? AND DILL TUDD??? You just followed this guy
for AN ENTIRE DAY. Is there anything about what you just
witnessed that makes you think he’s the BOOBY
TRAPPIN’ TYPE?
I step back towards her.
I realize how traumatic this is for you-
She swats this away. This isn’t traumatic-
I interrupt. I know-I know-You’re about to tell me you’re
just doing your job.
A sheepish look and a little laugh. That IS what I was
going to say-
I know. You see yourself as all crafty and competent and
clever but you’re really quite predictable. Whatever’s
happening, the moment things get dodgy you default to
THE JOB.
She listens.
I keep going.
You can drop your suspicion. There are no BOOBY
TRAPS. You can relax. Your GRAINING JOB is STUPID. ST-U-P-I-D.
She stops me. Are you SPELLING STUPID for me?
This winds me up all the more.
SO STUPID! It’s a dumb way to run a universe.
She gives me HER best Dill Tudd head tilt. What is this
rubbish pouring forth from your mouth? Where do you get
off spewing all this negativity…
I spread out my arms like I am welcoming the world to
come home. Not NEGATIVE-STUPID!!! And the CHAIRS?
DUMBEST people in the galaxies!!! Sending someone like
YOU to grain Dill Tudd??? Convincing you HE’S the
problem??? Making it YOUR JOB??? You know what the
problem is??? THE PROBLEM IS THINKING DILL TUDD
IS THE PROBLEM!!!
It feels so good to say that.
I feel so much lighter.
I give her my THAT IS WHAT I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT
THAT look.
Again, I turn and head towards the door.
She doesn’t stop me.
It opens easily.
I step in.
To a tunnel.
I turn around.
She’s right behind me.
She lets the door close.
Pitch black.
I feel the sides of the tunnel.
A scratchy flicking sound.
Her lighter comes on.
Of course she has her lighter on her.
Almost a day ago she was creating a ball of fire for a ravine full of kids. And now we’re doing this.
There’s enough light to take another step into the tunnel.
It slopes down slightly.
We’re going DOWN into the hill?
I feel her hand on my back.
I keep both my hands on the sides of the tunnel.
She holds up the lighter.
We move forward.
Slowly.
We gradually find our rhythm.
Our breathing.
Our steps.
It looks like someone dug this tunnel with a small shovel.
Which would have taken so long.
I can’t imagine.
I speak softly over my shoulder I’m sorry about my little
speech back there, I don’t think you’re stupid.
I know she whispers. You think I’m amazing.
I love that she just said that.
How do you know that’s what I think about you?
You told me.
I did?
You did.
How is it that you remember me saying that but I don’t?
A slightly exasperated sigh. You’re asking me to explain
YOU to YOURSELF?
That’s a good point. I have a very difficult time explaining
MYSELF to myself.
I look back over the top of her head.
I can’t see the door.
Forward we go.
About that little rant of yours back there…
I was wondering if she’d bring that up.
…Yes…?
You seem to have some anger against the CHAIRS.
I need to be careful here.
Nah-I was just spouting off.
She’s doesn’t buy it.
Well, I’ll have to put that in my ASSESSMENT REPORT.
That’s not good.
Really?
No. I’m just spouting off.
Sometimes you’re quite funny.
I am.
Her hand is still on my back.
It’s been there the whole time we’ve been in the tunnel.
I look up.
The top is at least two feet above my head.
Why are we crouching? I ask.
She looks up. That’s a good question.
We both stand up straight.
We stop.
Just the sounds of our breathing.
Click.
Her lighter turns off.
I feel her move in front of me.
She steps closer and wraps her arms around me.
In the dark, in a tunnel.
It is a sublime sensation, these arms of hers wrapped
around me.
I wrap my arms around her.
We stand here.
Holding each other.
I rest my back against the wall.
She leans into me.
I gently hold her head against my chest.
My mind does not race.
For once.
I am not stuck in my head.
I am not standing at a distance.
I am not trying to figure out how this happened or what it
means or where it’s headed or what it even is.
I am here.
And nowhere else.
Time evaporates, leaving little trace of its previous
presence.
Heen?
Yes, Noon Yeah.
Can we stay here for a minute?
Yes.
Exactly like this?
Yes.
It is calm and it is perfect and it is turbulent and it is
terrifying and it is everything I have longed for and I am
just now realizing it.
It occurs to me that I have no idea when the SUNS are
going to set today. And being in this tunnel with it getting dark outside doesn’t sound like the best plan.
Keep going?
Probably should she says, reluctantly.
This moves me, the reluctance in her voice.
I take her hand.
Click.
The lighter comes on.
Down the tunnel we go.
For a while. It could be a hundred feet. Two hundred feet.
Half a mile. I have no sense of distance in here.
And then, light.
It’s just a reflection up ahead off of the right side of the
tunnel.
Which we slowly discover is curving.
To the left.
The tunnel curves left?
Up ahead the tunnel ends.
Just like that.
Daylight.
This makes me laugh.
I’m just going to say it because this might be the only time
in my life I get to…There’s light at the end of the tunnel.
She groans. You had to-didn’t you?
I did. How often do you find yourself in a LITERAL
METAPHOR?
She hugs me, bringing her lips up to my ear About as often as you find yourself on Firdus.
We’re almost there.
I’ll go first I tell her.
You ARE going first-
No, I mean I’ll KEEP going first-
Why?
It strikes me in this moment that we’re interacting like
we’ve been together for ten or twenty laps.
You want to discuss it? I ask her.
No, I was just getting under your skin. You want to go
through that door FIRST? Great. I’ll be right behind you.
We reach the door. It looks like it opens into some sort of
circular room. The walls are rock. It’s open to the sky.
I step through the door and into the room. There’s an
opening in the rock to the left that leads down a path. I’m
standing on a wood platform that rests on the ground.
I step to the middle.
Huh.
I turn back to the doorway.
Noon Yeah is standing there watching me, expectant.
I shrug.
Kind of a letdown, to be honest.
A grating, sliding sound.
Wood on wood? Wood on metal? What is that-metal on
rock?
It sounds like it’s on the other side of the wall.
I catch something swinging in an arc above me.
Some sort of trough.
A trough?
I lean my head back to see it more clearly as red, thick
liquid dumps directly on to my face and into my eyes
before I can get out from under it.
There’s so much of it.
It just keeps coming.
All over me.
I’m soaked.
And blinded.
I wipe my eyes.
Which doesn’t help.
Heen! Noon Yeah yells.
I hear her step forward out of the doorway but then recoil.
I haven’t inhaled yet.
I inhale.
It’s like death itself gyrating to bad music in my head.
It’s so noxious.
I instantly feel woozy.
Dizzy.
I try to spit it out.
I keep wiping my eyes but the smell.
It’s all over me, attacking me.
WHAT DO I DO? I shout towards the doorway.
I DON’T KNOW!!! she shouts back. SPIN AROUND? TRY
TO SHAKE IT OFF YOU?
I am not handling this well. WHAT DO YOU MEAN? LIKE
