Dreams (7 page)

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Authors: Richard A. Lupoff

BOOK: Dreams
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A haze of blue-gray stonedness was floating over the crowd. I struggled to a place near the stage and plopped my
tuchuss
onto the grass and tried to get my head into the music. It was then that I heard the unmistakable sound of a female palm colliding with a male physiognomy and caught the wind-up of an angry exclamation that ended with, ". . . and your pitiful little weenie, too, you creep!"
That caught my attention.
I turned in time to see Frankie-Jimmy Kerr slinking away through the mob of stoned Tuna-lovers. And there was Vampirella decked out in black satin with opaque shades and her hair looking as if the sun had no other job than to make it look gorgeous.
"Del!" Vampie squealed. "Del, oh my gosh, I'm so happy to see you. You won't believe what that son of a something wanted me to do. Oh, Del, please, will you stay with me in case he comes back, or sends that louse of a brother of his."
We stayed together and Hot Tuna went on and on, the sky grew dark, the crowd thinned, the stars came out, the gray mist embraced us and we embraced each other and I had an inkling for the first time in my life of what love poetry is all about.
***
And sometimes the world, as they say, is too much with us. I mean, the next day I scrubbed myself down, shampooed a couple of times, scraped the bristles off my face, threw everything except the sweat suit on my back into a couple of pillow cases and headed down to the local Laundromat. I sat there reading a copy of
The Dharma Bums
while my clothes and the soap suds went 'round and 'round and 'round behind the little glass window.
When the machine stopped I transferred everything to a dryer and sat down again with my book only to feel a cool and gentle kiss on my freshly shaven cheek.
And there stood Laura Tomkins, ace girl shutter-bug. "You're looking chipper as hell, boss, how's about buying a lady a cold refreshing brew?"
And off we went to a nearby watering hole. There was a juke box in the corner and somebody had fed it with a bunch of coins and Grace Slick's voice was wailing. There was a TV set over the bar with the picture turned on and the sound turned off. In a totally bizarre way "Somebody to Love" made a perfect soundtrack for Karl Malden and Michael Douglas screeching up and down the streets of San Francisco in their mile-long Ford sedan.
And when Laura and I got back to the Laundromat some skunk had opened the dryer and made off with my personal wardrobe. I collared the dragon who made change and sold overpriced packages of soap powder to customers and demanded to know who had my belongings. She said it wasn't her job to play policeman and couldn't I read, didn't I see all the signs that said,
Keep an eye on your belongings, Management is not responsible for lost or stolen property.
Jeez.
Laura tried to cheer me up, invited me to join her and Gordon for a pizza and a movie, but I was in no mood. I just went home and sulked for the next several hours. When the walls started to close in on me and the only choice on TV was Lawrence Welk or Art Linkletter, I grabbed my Commander Cody baseball cap—at least I'd left that at home—and headed for North Beach. There's always some kind of distraction in North Beach.
The flashing lights and pathetic barkers and moronic thrill-seekers didn't do it for me. Not tonight. They just depressed me. I walked down to City Lights and looked at the books in the window and decided maybe I'd find something to read. I wandered around picking books up and putting them down. I finally settled on
A Coney Island of the Mind.
I stood in line to pay for the Ferlinghetti until I got to the cashier's counter.
All right, guess who was working the register.
I don't have to tell you. Oh, boy, did she look good to me!
"Vampirella!"
"Yes, sir. You want that book? A great book, great book, excellent choice." She told me the price. It was right there on the cover but she told me anyhow.
"Vampirella, it's me, Del."
She told me the price again and held out her hand.
I slapped the book into her hand and walked out.
All right, all right, why didn't I just write her off as a flake and go look for another lady fair? Right. Try telling that to somebody who's so crazy in love he can't figure out which way is up.
***
For the next couple of weeks I managed to avoid Vampirella. I started getting up early, showering and shaving regularly, working long hours, even freelancing to supplement the meager salary that the East Coast mobsters who owned
Rock! Rock! Rock!
paid me whenever I called up and whined that I was starving.
I got an invitation to a literary conference in Southern California. A library association had decided that the popular music press was worthy of a panel discussion and offered me a cheap ticket on a PSA jet, a rental AMC Gremlin, and a room at the Motel Five-and-a-Half directly under the LAX flight-path.
Strangely enough, by the time my jet touched down I had a hearty appetite so I headed out in my Gremlin, looking for a place to eat. I must have taken a wrong turn on the Hades Freeway because I wound up in an ugly town in the Valley. While I tried to find my way back to LA I spotted an eating establishment with the unlikely name of Uncle Hoggly-Woggly's Tyler Texas Home Style Barbecue. There was a big sign over the door, a painting of a bright pink pig in a chef's hat holding up a plate of barbecue and saying, "Bet You Can't Top This!" surrounded by the name of the establishment in glowing incandescent letters. People were lined up to get into the joint and the ones going in looked happy and the ones coming out looked happier so I figured this was a find.
It was. If I ever get to Texas—God forbid!—I will head straight to Tyler, wherever that may be, and wallow in barbecue until I can't stand it any more.
For now, though, I just feasted on ribs in sauce so hot it hurt but so delicious I couldn't stop eating, and potato salad, and coffee. That was all that Uncle Hoggly-Woggly sold and it was paradise enow as far as I was concerned.
That was the high point of my trip. As for the low point . . .
The conference was a nightmare. My panel was attended by about three bedraggled-looking spinster librarians. Turned out that everybody else was at a cocktail party in honor of the hundredth birthday a professor of medieval
ballades
from some local community college extension branch. The moderator of the panel must have been that professor's mother. She thought my magazine was a journal devoted to the study of petroglyphs. And my fellow panelists—there were two of them—were none other than my old buddies Frankie and Jimmy Kerr. Who of course proceeded to beat up on me verbally for forty minutes while our moderator sat there, open-mouthed and horror-stricken.
I spent the evening sitting on my bed at the Motel Five-and-a-Half eating a stale chicken salad sandwich, drinking warm, flat beer, and watching
The Brady Bunch
in fuzzy black-and-white. I would have headed back to Uncle Hoggly-Woggly's if I thought I could find it again, but the first time had been strictly a lucky strike and I wasn't going to risk those freeways again.
In the morning I packed my minimal luggage, checked out of the Motel Five-and-a-Half, and started across the parking lot, looking for my avocado green Gremlin.
Other people were checking out. I saw a woman pushing a double-width stroller from the office. As she reached the middle of the parking lot some kind of muscle car came screaming around the corner, headed straight for them. I don't think the driver expected anyone to be there and he mashed on his brakes and the car started to skid but there was no way it was going to stop in time and no way that poor mother was going to get her little ones out of its trajectory.
I want to emphasize, I'm no hero. I didn't decide that I was going to do what I did. I didn't even think about that,
When you see somebody who needs help,
business. I just—well, something clicked in my brain, and without thinking I launched myself into a flying tackle, slammed into the woman with my shoulder, grabbed the handle of the stroller with my other hand and yanked it after me. I hit the pavement hard with the woman in one hand and the stroller, complete with a pair of shrieking toddlers, in the other. I was scraped all to hell and gone and bleeding in a bunch of places but the mom and her tykes were untouched.
The driver of the muscle car had stopped and he and his passenger came trotting back to see what had happened. It was, all right, you got it, Frankie and Jimmy, and give them credit, lousy creeps that they are, they were concerned for the woman and her toddlers and remorseful for their carelessness and the tragedy that had almost caused, and one of them even looked at me and said, "Oh, Del Marston, sorry 'bout that, see you back up north."
And they climbed back into their muscle car and went tearing out of the parking lot.
The woman was hugging her toddlers and crying. After a little while she stood up and held me, her hands on my arms. She actually cried into my jacket. Then she brushed off the cloth and said, "Oh, I got you all wet."
In a minute we both started laughing at the incongruity.
She let go of me and leaned back and looked up at me. Her eyes were a color I'd only seen once before in my life. She said, so softly I could hardly hear, "You will be rewarded."
***
I got back to San Francisco without further incident. I was too pumped from the excitement to go home so I opened the crummy little West Coast office of
Rock! Rock! Rock!
and started through the usual accumulation of mail, LP's for review, press releases, invitations to music venues, and promo gifts.
There was a jiffy bag with no return address on it but there was a Los Angeles postmark. I opened it and extracted a tee shirt. It was gorgeous. It featured a picture of a pig wearing a chef's hat, holding up a plate of barbecue, grinning and saying, "Bet You Can't Top This!" Big, clear lettering around the artwork spelled out the name of the establishment,
Doctor Hoggly-Woggly's Tyler Texas Home Style Barbecue.
***
Tha-tha-tha that's all, f-folks!
Dingbats
You couldn't pronounce the name of the ship. Heck, neither could I, nor even spell it, for that matter. So let's call it the
Niña
. That's as good a name as any.
And as for the crew—well, they'll still be recognizably human. Their story takes place in the future, but not so far into the future that our descendents have green extrudable pseudopodia or are disembodied brains riding around in nutrient-filled containers or any of that crazy Wilma Deering-Dale Arden stuff.
So since you couldn't pronounce their names and I couldn't spell them either, I'll call them by ordinary present-day names instead.
Diamond Lil.
Amber Annie.
Asparagus.
Well, the others called her Pair o' Guts, but she preferred Asparagus.
The
Niña
was a small ship. She only took a crew of three, and they weren't expected to be off Earth for long. They'd rented the ship, three total strangers but the computer (if you want to call it that) at the rental agency decided they'd be compatible and they'd save a lot of money (see above) by sharing. One worked with numbers, one with organs, one with physics. Nothing there to make for instant enmity.
A little pleasure jaunt for three new pals, maybe zip up to Luna and sightsee a little. They didn't think they'd go even as far as Nergal, or Mars as it had once been known. There were tourist facilities there and the three pals could certainly afford to vacation on the Red Planet, but they all had jobs and this was only supposed to be a weekend getaway, not a full-fledged vacation.
You understand, I hope, that everything I tell you is only approximately what I say it is. Like, try to explain a nuclear reactor or an HDTV or the way an antibiotic works in your body to somebody who lived a couple of hundred years ago, no less a few thousand or even more.
The
Niña
ran into a tiny singularity, the kind of thing that goes zipping around the galaxies, popping in and out of wormholes and wreaking havoc when you least expect it, and whonked out of ordinary time-space and got deposited someplace far away.
Diamond Lil was the captain, at least to the extent that the
Niña
had a captain, and she said, "Wow, what the hell was
that
?" Neither Amber Annie nor Pair o' Guts had any more idea than Lil did. Gradually it dawned on them, what had happened, or at least a vague inkling of it, and they realized they were totally fucked.
"Zapped by a singularity? I thought that only happened in braineries," Amber Annie said.
"Any way to get out of here?" Pair o' Guts wondered aloud.
Diamond Lil shook her head. (Remember, she only approximately shook her head. For that matter, she was only approximately Diamond Lil. But never mind all that.) "I think we're gonna die, girlfriends, but at least we can try and work our way out of this."
"Oh, yeah?" Amber Annie stood with her hands on her hips. "And how do you propose doing that?"
"First thing, let's see what kind of damage that thingamabob did to the
Niña
." She studied the instrument panel. "Everything looks okay according to the readouts. Who wants to climb into a spacesuit and check the outside?"
Nobody was really eager but eventually Pair o' Guts was pressured into the job. She climbed into a suit, checked her air and power supplies, temp and pressure controls, and crawled into the
Niña's
airlock.
Couple of minutes later she was creeping around on the outside of the ship, looking for damage. She didn't find any so she made her way back to the airlock, opened the hatch, and shortly stood inside the ship once again. The ship was appointed with richly stained wood and polished brass appurtenances. She peeled off her spacesuit and stood in shorts and tee shirt (approximately), the way Diamond Lil and Amber Annie were already dressed.
"Looks okay," she said.
"But take a goose at the meters now." Amber Annie pointed at the
Niña's
bank of readouts. They were acting pretty crazed.
"Hey, I can
feel
this mother moving." Pair o' Guts grabbed onto the back of a polished mahogany and red plush chair. "Something is either pulling or pushing us—
hard
."
They all strapped in and watched the sights outside the
Niña
go through some changes. There was a star close enough to show as a disk rather than a point of light. It was a beautiful shade of blue. Nobody knew what kind of radiation it might be giving off. They could only tell that it was tugging them toward it.
Diamond Lil tried using the
Niña's
boosters to get away but they were too close already, or the star's gravitational field was too strong, or maybe those are just two ways of saying the same thing.
"Looks like we're headed for stardom, girlfriends." Lil managed a fairly sincere sounding, if somewhat ironic, laugh.
Everybody was surprised, however, when the
Niña
swung away from its apparent death-plunge into the beautiful blue star. Something else was grabbing the ship.
"Holy shit!" Annie muttered, "I think we're going to be rescued."
And in fact they saw something looming up in front of them, something that might actually have been a sizable black hole except it wasn't. It was a black, globular object. It just might be a planet, or maybe a miniature partner of the blue star that had never quite reached ignition mass. In the former case it would probably have a solid surface. Maybe rock or frozen water. If the latter, it might be just a fuzzy gas ball.
By now the
Niña
was moving fast. The drive on the little ship worked okay, at least the readouts indicated as much, but there was no place to go, really, except to the black, globular thing. Otherwise they might be pulled into the blue sun. A nasty death, that, and none of the three were interested in dying even a nice death just now if she could help it. Or they could head off into the depths of space, if they could somehow escape the gravitational pull of the blue star, but that would probably mean a slow death by starvation or suffocation or by strangulation in their own waste products, none of which was an attractive prospect.
So, what the heck, they let themselves be drawn down to the black, globular whatever-it-was. Captain Diamond Lil brought the
Niña
in for a nice smooth landing. If anything, the surface of the black globe seemed to be just made for the landing of a little three-person spacecraft, and
Niña
settled in just fine and Amber Annie, who had by tacit agreement become the ship's engineer (or something like that), turned on the exterior sensors and analyzers.
Shortly these gadgets reported that there was breathable air outside, which was pretty surprising, that gravity was well below Earth-normal but sufficient to keep them from floating off into the depths of space, and that not a damned thing was moving. Not anywhere on this, well, more-or-less, world.
It was daytime outside, or what could pass for daytime.
Amber Annie and Pair o' Guts donned spacesuits just to be on the safe side and exited the
Niña.
They were confronted by a bleak and featureless landscape. The unnamed blue sun shone like a lovely amethyst and gave their white spacesuits a kind of ghostly tint. They turned around and looked at
Niña
and saw that the ship had been undamaged by its landing.
For the time being they were better off than they would have been if they had continued on toward the blue sun (for sure) or headed out into black space (for pretty sure), but when they considered their situation and likely future here on this small black world, the prospects weren't really very bright after all.
Asparagus cracked her helmet seal, then removed the helmet entirely and breathed deeply of the little world's air. It smelled nasty, something like the bathroom in an apartment where the owner has gone away for a week and left three cats and as many overflowing dishes of cat food and bowls of water and a litter box for the kitties to use.
Pretty ripe.
But, as the ship's instruments had said, breathable.
Annie waited to make sure that Pair o' Guts was all right, then removed her own helmet. She curled her lip and wrinkled her nose but she agreed that the air would do if it had to. Which it did.
No water, though. No food. No sign of life. There was air and water and food in their spaceship, and by careful recycling they could make it last a long time, but not forever. And who wants to live that way anyhow?
They headed back to the
Niña.
Amber and Asparagus told Lil what they thought of this, well, call it a planet. They didn't like it but they couldn't think of any alternative. If only it weren't so damned dark and dismal they might have found their situation less depressing.
They didn't seem to be in any imminent danger, but the ship's stores were limited and they didn't want to sit there in the middle of a flat, black plain on a round, black, well, sort of planet, and wait for thirst or starvation or suffocation to claim them. The
Niña
had an emergency beacon which they set to pulsing out a distress call, but they had no idea where in the entire time-space continuum they were and the likelihood of rescue looked pretty darned remote.
What if they were in another galaxy?
What if they were a million years in the past or the future?
The planet they were on seemed to have a fairly short day/night cycle, with no real dusk or twilight to speak of. Once night fell the sky blazed with a billion unfamiliar points of light. It was a beautiful sight but it was also depressing as all get out.
What the heck were they going to do?
They decided to sleep on it.
In the morning they woke up and looked outside. The blue sun glittered gorgeously above the horizon and the flat black plain had turned into a flat white plain. It looked something like an Arctic snowfield. It was as featureless as ever but the grim, dim aspect of the day before was transformed into a bright featurelessness tinted azure by the planet's sun.
Lil and Annie and Pair o' Guts held a council of war.
They knew that the
Niña
wasn't going to run out of fuel. It was propelled by hooking into nature's own universal magneto-gravitic grid and unless something bollixed its propulsion and control circuitry they had nothing to worry about on that score.
But was there anyplace to go?
They settled in and lifted off. Diamond Lil set the
Niña's
auto¬controls for a low survey of the planet and they went skimming across the featureless terrain. Once they reached the terminator and passed into the planet's shadow stars appeared overhead and the, well, let's call it landscape, darkened. Still, it was a gleaming, porcelain white and it had the ghostly appearance, by starlight, of an old-time Christmas-card snowscape.
The
Niña
was intended as a vacation excursion ship and at this point its circuitry determined that a little musical accompaniment was desirable. It started playing a vocal piece by the eighteenth century composer Elisabetta de Gambarini. Softly, unobtrusively, soothingly. It was really quite lovely.
"What the hell?"
Lil and Asparagus turned. Annie was pointing at something on the ground. It was the first feature any of them had spotted on the surface of the planet.
It looked like a big more or less human head with an arching brow, oversized ears, a sloping nose, a small, pursed mouth, a puzzled look around the eyes and a generally goofy expression on its face. In fact it reminded them of one of the giant stone heads found on Rapa Nui.
"What the hell?" Lil and Asparagus echoed Amber Annie.
Diamond Lil cut the autos and brought
Niña
around in a graceful maneuver so they could get a closer look at the thing.
Damned if it didn't look exactly like one of those wacky stone statues, except it wasn't the color of ordinary stone.
Lil couldn't gauge the size of the head from
Niña's
current altitude so she dropped back, closer to the planet's surface. She realized that the head was big. Really big. Much taller than the ship.
She circled it, around the level of its ear lobes.
The statue was dark red. The ridge of its forehead shadowed its ruby-tinted eyes, but as
Niña
swooped past the face Lil could see two points of light right where the pupils ought to be, for all the world staring out at them, following
Niña
in its path like the eyes of a three-dee religious icon.
It was spooky.
Responding to Lil's touch, the
Niña
hovered briefly in front of the statue, then settled slowly to the ground.
They were still on the planet's night side, but the starlight was bright. Enough of it reflected off the planet's snow white surface to create a kind of ghostly twilight. Lil and Annie and Asparagus could see the statue clearly.
They left the
Niña
. They weren't wearing spacesuits this time. When they breathed the air outside the nasty odor was gone. Either it had been a local phenomenon at their first landing site or it had cleared up. Or maybe they were just getting used to this strange place.
Amber Annie said, "This planet needs a name. Come to think of it, I guess the sun does, too."
Diamond Lil and Pair o' Guts agreed. "What do you want to call them?" Pair o' Guts asked.
Annie shrugged her shoulders. "What the heck. How about Amaterasu for the sun and Sakti for the planet?"
Lil snorted. "You really like rice, don't you? Well, sure, why the hell not."
Pair o' Guts said, "Okay with me."
They walked around the base of the statue. They didn't measure it but if it had been their favorite girlfriend and they'd set out to buy her a shirt for her birthday they would have estimated her collar size at ninety meters. Diamond Lil stood directly in front of the thing and looked up at its face.

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