smokeSCREEN

bookFOUR

:

THEbecoming

* * *

part ii

:

the coffin nail

* * *

whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am home again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am / whole again

* * *

* * *

The flashlight bobs and I throw the heavy blankets across the bare army-surplus mattress.

"I really don't need the mattress," I say.

"You'll sleep on it and like it," Michelle tells me.

Here in the sub-basement – which I'm hoping Crow has given up – perhaps I can get some rest before sorting things out in the morning.

"Thanks for being cool," I tell her.

"Yeah, well – that's me," she says.

"No – hey." I reach out for her arm, but find her cheek. It's pretty dark. "I appreciate it," I say. She holds the flashlight out to the side, pointed at us so I can see half of her face, and she can see half of mine in the blackness.

"I know," she says. "Go to sleep – I'll come back for in the morning."

She's already standing to leave, but I know I don't want to sleep.

"Hey – hang back," I say. She stops and turns. "You awake enough for a chat?"

"A short chat?"

"I didn't really think about it. I just… wanted to sit back and talk like we used to."

Even in the blackness, I can see her grin as she nods.

"Want some gossip?"

"Sure."

"Cat's pulling two months in the kitchens for betraying the floor," she says, crossing her legs as she sits on the mattress next to me.

"Good."

"I'm really sorry about everything with Crow-"

"You don't have to say that," I tell her. "That's between me and Crow. Let's think of… happier times."

She laughs – sort of.

"Yeah? Like when?"

"Like when we sat up on the Tower roof, lookin' at the stars."

"You remember that?" she cocks her head to the side.

"'Course I do."

For a moment we're blinded by the light of my Zippo as I burn the end of a cigarette.

Why does she have to be so damn beautiful?

Closing the lighter, I take a long drag.

"Yeah, well – all I see is blackness and a bouncing cherry."

I hold the cigarette in my mouth as I find the foil from my pack and an old first aid needle.

"…what are you doing?"

"Poking holes in this foil."

"…why?"

I press the foil over the head of the flashlight and turn it on, setting it down so it shines up at the celing.

"…oh my God…"

"Orion, Scorpio, the Big Dipper and the North Star," I say.

"…you got the right placement and everything."

I twist the flashlight, covering half with a thumb.

"Look – now it's summer – now it's winter. Now it's summer – now it's winter."

She's laughing. Christ, sometimes it is so great just to hear someone laughing.

"Man, I missed having you around," she says.

"I missed being around," I nod.

And now her lips graze my cheek in a peck. But not quite a peck. Something softer. Something that lingers.

"So what's sex like?" she asks.

"Pardon?"

"I've accepted that I'm not getting it – I want to know what it's like."

And now I'm laughing.

"I'm not comfortable with that."

"Why not?"

"Because that's… between me and Crow," I say.

"Crow's abandoned you," she reminds me.

The edge of her hand grazes the edge of mine. And stays there.

//

Crunch. Crunch. The gravel under my sandals.

poor child, back already? The Wolf's huge, shaggy head rises to greet me as I reach the summit.

"We're the same age," I remind him.

perhaps – but I have more poise He falls onto his hindquarters.

what is your dilemma?

"I really want to."

what makes you think she'd have you?

"Call it faith."

the simple fact is

you should be with michelle

you loved her first.

"Doesn't hold weight," I shake my head, but he softly slaps his big tail against the ground.

not with logic

no, the Wolf says. Peircing, glowing, welcoming red eyes.

but nevertheless

it may be true

you believe it

don't you.

"I shouldn't," I say.

but you will

"How do you figure?"

if you didn't want to be convinced of it

you wouldn't be here.

Hm.

"Good point," I nod, standing.

A chair appears and the wind throws me into it.

sit down

stay a while, he says.

"Lonely?"

it's been ten years

up here on this mountain

"You'll get no pity from me."

staring down at that monestary His shaggy head swings to regard the happy lights in the complex below.

forever

never to enjoy the end

"Forget it."

the curiosity must be excruciating

"I can live with it."

He huffs – or growls – and his muzzle swings up to my face.

you could suffer through

your insignificant fear

just once, he says.

discover the final act

the middle even

But I only shake my head.

"No."

my time has come

"You had your time, Drac. And you… you fucked up."

believe what you will

these women have weakened you

as you suffer like a jackass

at their whims and emotions.

"Shut up."

and you find you're always tired

so tired of dealing with it all

and your carefully placed wall between us has crumbled :

and here we are

"Nothing has crumbled – I've installed a door."

for what purpose

"To remind myself of why I abandoned you in the first place."

you lie to yourself, Om

"If I'm stretching the truth of my strength an inch, Drac, you stretch yours a mile. You'll never have control again."

//

"…how could you ask me that?" Michelle says.

"Ask you what?"

"Don't be like this-"

"Ask you what?"

"Shut up."

"Whoah – Michelle – what just happened?" I grab her wrist in the darkness.

"We were just talking."

"About what?" I say.

"What do you mean about what?"

"I don't remember! The last thing I remember was… you saying Crow's abandoned me." She narrows her eyes at me in the candlelight. Candle? "Where's my shirt? Where's your shirt? Oh, fuck..."

"You don't remember any of this?"

"Here it is…" I scramble into my sweater and open my Zippo to locate Michelle's tank top and sweater. They lay as if taken off together, inside-out in a heap on the floor.

"You…" …is she crying? "…you can't just forget that! That doesn't happen!"

"Look, it's complex…," I start.

"What happened, then?" She's really upset. Like, really upset.

"I can't tell you."

"Cypress, what's wrong-"

"Nothing, alright? I'm fine. I just got no sleep and less blood. I'm just…. tired."

She stares at me.

What the fuck did I say in that ninety seconds?

The flickering candle.

…it was only ninety seconds… couldn't've been more.

"So… I'm just supposed to go, right?" she's definitely crying. She sniffs as she snatches away her shirts and gets the tank top on.

"Michelle, I just…"

"…no, just shut up…" She starts walking away, but I get her by the arm.

"Michelle!" She spins.

"Look – I believe you that something happened. I believe you. But I don't know what I did. So you have to tell me. And I'll believe you. 'Cause I have nothing else to go on. And I'll take credit for whatever I did. But you have to tell me."

The candle's a long ways behind us – it's pretty dark over here. I can still hear her sniffing. She wipes her face and stops, and says;

"You told me you loved me."

And I laugh.

"Oh, real fuckin' funny!" she snaps.

"Of course I do," I tell her. "That's obvious."

She pauses. She peaks an eyebrow.

"Will you remember this?"

"I promise."

"You really do?"

"Yes."

"Say it, then."

"I love you."

And she just stares at me again.

"I love you too," she says quickly. She's still staring – still suspicious. "Well then, what does this mean?"

"That means… let's talk about this when we're back at the Tower."

"You said the same thing about leading us."

I reach for the ring at my throat.

"And look at this…" I say, as I grope for a chain that isn't there. "…what the fuck?"

"Oh, you took the chain off," she says.

"Where did I-"

She grabs my left hand and holds it up.

The ring rests comfortably, unnoticed, on my middle finger.

And now that I've noticed it, I can…

I swallow – hard.

…remember.

"Whoahhhfuck…" I say.

I reach up – up into the building – because I can. I scan the hallways. Hm. There's Lisa. I should just shoot around in her head and –

And the world closes in on me to become cold and dark and claustrophobic – I pull off the ring. Back in the sub-basement with Michelle.

"Cypress?" she says. "Where'd you just go?"

"I was meditating," I say, pocketing the shiny piece of metal.

She grips me in two hard fists by my sweaters and holds me close.

"Any memory problems?" she growls.

I give her a peck on the cheek.

"No. Except for the part when I put the ring on and someone lit a candle."

"But all the stuff here?"

"Well, I'm good up to "whoah-fuck"."

She stares at me.

"Cypress, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

And now I stare at her.

Michelle's always been my closest friend at the Tower. She and I both get the big picture. And we pretty much get each other.

I trust her.

And I nod.

"I'll tell you – if you want. But it's a long story.

She wipes her face. Nods. And I tell her.

* * *

* * *

whenever I'm alone with you

you make me feel like I am young again

whenever I'm alone with you

you make me feel like I am fun again

* * *

* * *

I trudge up the side of the mountain. Easy steps. One after another.

I'll get there when I get there.

Sandals on my feet. Long dark robe.

I sigh.

I wonder if it will be the same this time.

I reach the summit just as the sun touches the peaks on the other side of the valley. Bloody reds and oranges splattered across the sky.

I can hear him coming – and now the Wolf stands beside me.

And I look at him, just like I always do.

And I'm comforted.

Even as the fire burns in his eyes.

burn it all

And I'm terrified, just as I always am.

And I run.

Run, run, back to the real world.

"Cypress!" Michelle's shaking me.

I open my eyes and press a hand to her forehead, pushing her away.

"It's fine," I say. "I'm fine," as my head slams back down into the mattress. "…what time is it?"

"A little after four," she yawns.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"…just keepin' watch," she says.

"Everything's cool, Michelle – go to sleep."

"No," she's shaking her head. "Something's wrong."

"…mmmmwhuh?" I crack an eye open.

"People are walking around upstairs. Just one or two people. It's the same as last night – they're not sentries. Not wandering. They have some purpose – but I can never catch them."

In the candlelight, she's staring at the celing.

"I don't hear anything," I say.

"It's been quiet for about twenty minutes," she nods. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like a million bucks."

"Then go back to sleep."

Her hand on my forehead. Stroking my cheek.

Good 'ol Michelle.

"…mn'kay…"

And the darkness rises up around me. The black and white pebbles. The windswept mountain. My ragged sandals.

As I reach the summit, the sun hits the mountains on the far side.

The horizon is a bloody red.

And he is beside me.

And looking at him, I feel whole again as his eyes blaze.

burn it all

And I'm terrified.

It's never been different.

I'm always terrified.

My heart is thrashing.

And as he turns away to descend the mountain towards the virgin monestary, I want to follow. Every part of my being screams at me to follow.

I'm always safe with Drac, anyway.

Things will be fine.

And this time, I descend the mountain with him. And I'm not afraid any more.

We walk side-by-side as the shadows race across the valley, concealing our approach.

Things are quiet.

No birds.

The river is paused.

Looking above, the clouds are paused, showing only pale ragged scars against the midnight sky.

The air is clean and crisp. And still.

There is no wind.

And as I ascend to steps to the front gates,

as I raise my hand to strike the wood

the sky tears open

and sobs

and the clouds are blurred shadows

whipping heaven's face

slashing it

and I'm inside

meeting the community

shaking their hands

lips on my cheek, the soft pale lips of

girls in white linen

The dream has always been the same.

But I've never stayed asleep this long.

Where is the girl?

The monestary is huge on the inside – high walls of stone that close in on me.

I can't stand it.

They're eating their happy food and laughing.

While the walls are threatening to crush us.

In the happy firelight, their faces are like the jokers on a deck of cards.

Laughing, laughing, laughing at me

always laughing

always happy

while the walls close in

happy little walls

crushing me

there is nothing for me

every brick mocks me

and I have to get out

outside

under the stars

under the rain

let it beat me down

And I nod, slowly.

And Drac's massive frame heaves up and springs forward.

As the flames rise in the windows, I can't watch. I go away. While he slaughters them.

And they're screaming – all of them, screaming.

While it burns.

And I pull the staff from my robe.

And pull the blade from the staff.

And stalk forward.

I know what I have to do.

I burst through the gates into the courtyard, and Drac rises huge and black before the fountain. He clutches a virgin in white linen, and the flames that have begun to eat, slowly at the flower garden lick her hem. She's not screaming.

Just staring at me for help.

The sword gleams, silver and perfect as the sky crashes down on us.

And I sheath it.

And when he tosses her to me, I stop her from falling. I hold her up.

And looking in her eyes, I know she sees all potential hope.

Everything that might be.

All the love and happiness we could have.

But her skin grows tallow and coarse.

I don't see shiny things.

I see betrayal.

And disappointment.

And weakness of character.

Coming over the horizon, like the drippy, bloody clouds.

They press down on me, and I don't see the shiny things in her.

I see all the things I want to destroy.

I the things I was supposed to have.

The life that was taken away.

And like a mirror, when you stare too long at your own eyes.

And you want to smash it.

I smash her.

The world I never saw.

The perfect white linen I'll never touch.

This is my world, now.

Soaked with rain and splattered with blood, the Wolf following close behind – I stalk the halls of the virgin-white monestary.

And we kill them all.

and I am free

i am free

this is my world

now

* * *

* * *

however far away

however long I stay

whatever words I say

i will always love you

i will always love you

* * *

* * *

As promised, Michelle rouses me twenty minutes before sunrise, and I cough as I sit up in the hallway – dimly lit by a shaft of sunlight penetrating through from the basement above.

I just notice now how dusty it is in here.

I find my cigarettes and start smoking.

Michelle's staring at me.

What is she waiting for?

"…what?" I say, the cigarette dangling from my lips.

"Are you… okay?" she asks.

"Don't I look okay?"

Flashbulbs blind me, every now and again. Moments from the dream, burned into my upper consciousness.

"Actually, you look pretty good," she says.

/

windows hiss and melt

happy families burning

dying to know why

/

"Smoke?" I hold one up for her. She takes it, and my Zippo flares to life as she grins.

/

the sunset is still

blood stretching up the pale walls

and will, forever

/

"Thanks," Michelle says as she leans back.

I close my eyes for a moment.

Get it out of your head.

Focus.

Zen.

"Hey – are you sure you're alright?" Her hand touches my shoulder, and glancing up

i see her gasping

beneath me

sweating

moaning

"I'm fine," I shrug her hand away and take a quick drag.

'faster,' she whispers.

"What?" I sit up.

"What's wrong?" she's staring at me funny.

"I'm fine," I say again, standing.

"Are you sure?" she pulls herself to her feet, cracking her neck.

"Yes – c'mon, let's just go."

* * *

I limp out of the main doors of the terminal and down the concrete steps. The early morning Sun is too bright – too hot already.

"You can hang back, if you want," Michelle says. "Have some breakfast before you go."

I shake my head.

"I'm sure they'll feed me."

That long red hair whips across her face, and she manages a smile as she squints in the light.

"We'll be waiting," she says. "Come home soon." And I grin back at her-

/

rip a man's throat out

gore across the pretty wall

fancy red on white

/

As I walk up to the Market building the doors swing open and Richard is waiting for me.

Richard is a Third – one of the few Thirds worth listening to at Westwood. You can always spot Richard because he's shiny. I mean to say, he's got so much metal strapped to him, it always catches the light. Two huge silver semiautomatic pistols strapped to the small of his back. A massive pump-action shotgun can often be found, slung casually in the nook of his elbow. Two belts of ammunition hanging from his hips. Though he'll usually wear the belt of shotgun shells over a shoulder for quicker access. The gunfighter. "You look like Hell," he says, leading me into the Market.

/

her dying gasp and

a perfect girl's perfect eyes

the virgin's surprise

/

"Haven't been sleepin' well."

He pulls me down a series of dark hallways until satisfied we're alone, and sits in a corner, lighting a pair of cigarettes. His black hair shines in the light of the tiny Bic for a moment as he holds one of the smokes out for me.

He seems to take a long time before deciding what to say.

"..how tired are you?" he says now.

"I feel like shit, if that's what you mean."

"Are you up to fighting out of here?"

"Why?"

Footsteps.

Approaching.

He jumps to his feet and yanks me deeper into the blackness.

"A lot of us believed the guys you sent back," he's telling me. "But we didn't know what to think about these old ones until…" and now he pauses again, staring at me in the dim light. "…how much did they tell you back at the Market?"

"I know everything," I shrug. "I'm in the middle of it."

"Well I don't know about this, man…"

"Joining is the only way we'll survive – you must see that," I say.

"Joining?" he stares at me. "Joining who?"

"What were you talking about?"

"Joining the girls?"

I nod,

"Yes."

He nods.

"Some of us figure that," he says. "But we can't just expect to be happy friends right off the bat."

"We'll have to," I say. "Or we'll die."

"What do you think about the trade?" he asks.

"What trade?"

"The messenger the old ones sent."

"Messenger?"

We stare at each other.

"…for some reason we got the impression you were in charge over there."

"I am," I say.

"The messenger that came yesterday, just after you showed up."