Penny Dreadful (32 page)

Eve not Goo:

She hated herself and she could not sit still.

Eve squirmed like a worm on a hook and tried to whistle. She tried to whistle something pleasant like merrily, merrily your life is but a dream or maybe the theme to a Burger King commercial, something safe and normal. Have it your way. You can have it your way. But she was a poor whistler, she always had been. Eve was much better at spitting. And so she shifted around behind the wheel of Gulliver’s yellow Rambler like she had sand in her pants, or spiders.

It’s Crumb, she told herself. Crumb, not Gulliver.

Why was that so hard. She had known Crumb for like three years. And she (or Goo) had only encountered Gulliver a few brief times. The whole thing made her dizzy and she was glad to be out of it. But she was squirming because Phineas was sitting beside her, because he was looking at her. He hadn’t said more than two words since they left and his mouth was probably sore with those stitches.

God.

When did he come back, anyway. Three or four days ago. Or was it a week?

Eve tried to remember how she had felt when she saw him on her doorstep. When she laid eyes on him. Warm. As if she had just swallowed a mouthful of brandy. She had felt like she was fifteen and she had a stupid, hopeless crush on her best friend’s brother who had just come home from college and whose legs had rubbed briefly, innocently against hers beneath the dinner table.

Warm.

But the brandy fingers had been fleeting. They had flown away like five small birds and she wondered why she hadn’t simply asked him to get her out of the game, to rescue her or something. But fuck that. She wasn’t anyone’s little sister. Of course. He had rescued her, in the end. He had pulled her from the Scavenger’s Daughter even though she never asked him to.

If she had a therapist and she wanted to analyze it, she might say that she had been daring Goo to stop her, to save her. Or maybe she had been curious to see how long she could stand it. How long before she passed out. Or failing that, she might have hoped that Chrome would lift a finger, but he hadn’t ever been there. Anyway, she didn’t want to analyze it.

Where are we going? said Phineas.

To Dizzy’s place, she said.

What is that, another club?

Laughing. Dizzy is a friend.

Phineas lit a cigarette, which he smoked out of the corner of his injured mouth.

You know what? he said. I think I’ve had enough of your sick friends. Let’s go to your place.

Eve sighed. I told you. It isn’t safe there.

Brief silence, tender.

Eve, he said. There’s nothing wrong with your apartment.

And besides, she said. Dizzy isn’t sick at all. She’s nice.

Whatever you say. He blew a line of crooked smoke from the side of his mouth.

It’s my life, she said.

I’m sure it is.

But she thought about it, she tried to see it from his angle. And somehow her life was not hers. It was a loose thread, a plot twist. It was a situation and situations get fucked up. Three months ago she was reasonably normal and enrolled in college and now she was bloody and bruised and anorexic and squirming behind the wheel of a borrowed Rambler.

Okay. It was fucked up, she could see that.

But she liked to think that once in a while the sun was meant to shine only for her. Eve squinted as she drove and it occurred to her that she wasn’t wearing any pants. She carried no identification, no proof of her existence at all. She wouldn’t want to get pulled over but she smiled and thought, if she was pulled over she could pretend she was a prostitute, she could let Phineas do the talking and she would love to hear what he had to say. It was still dark but the sun was shining somewhere, it was shining for her benefit and here was Dizzy’s house. She slowed and let the Rambler drift to a stop.

This is it, she said.

Phineas frowned. Who is this Dizzy person?

I told you. A friend.

Right, he said. And is she in the game?

She’s a Breather, said Eve.

Oh, good. I like Breathers.

They got out of the car and walked up to the house. Eve didn’t flinch when he took her hand. The front door stood open, a crack of light. Phineas dropped her hand and eased through like he was made of smoke and shadows and she remembered that he used to be a cop.

Irrational, but she felt safe with him.

Discarded clothes on the floor. As if someone had undressed while drunk. White pants, green military belt. Blue shirt and blazer and wide yellow tie. Phineas picked up the tie, twirled it between his fingers and she wondered what he was thinking.

There was blood on the floor, a long brownish streak.

Phineas followed it into the kitchen and she followed him and they found Dizzy Bloom and Mingus sitting on the floor with Chrome’s body stiff as a canoe between them. Blood and streaked with something sticky and green. Dizzy and Mingus were eating chocolate pudding cups and drinking ginger ale mixed with the Pale. They whispered to each other like kids drunk on sex and Phineas ignored them, bending to examine Chrome. Eve stopped in the doorway, a wide blank space forming in her head.

Goo, said Mingus. He tried to stand up but failed.

Eve looked at the blood, at the wound on Chrome’s chest. Christian, she thought. Oh, my.

What happened? said Phineas.

He was shot, said Dizzy.

Yes, said Phineas. Who shot him?

A Fred, said Mingus. It seems.

It was a policeman, said Dizzy. I think.

Phineas blinked. Did you say a cop shot him?

He was hunting, said Eve. He was hunting and he went too far. Again.

Again? said Phineas.

Chrome killed a Fred yesterday, she said. Or was it the day before? Eve touched her fingers to her mouth, to her tongue. She didn’t feel much of anything at all and Dizzy Bloom was looking at her, worried.

Goo, she said.

You have chocolate on your nose, said Eve.

Dizzy shivered like a scrap of fine cloth in the open air and after a bottomless silence she wiped her nose.

Phineas looked ill. The yellow tie clutched in his left hand. The stitches like black flies crawling out of his mouth. He leaned against the fridge and Eve watched as he fumbled through his pockets. He pulled out a cigarette and looked around.

You must be Dizzy, he said.

Dizzy shrugged and held out her hand, palm down. Eve felt the air turn stiff and she saw everything at once. The ice pick, the sharp little spoon. The linen napkins. The pudding packs. The blood, the green streaks of what she now saw was cough syrup.

Christian was dead.

His smooth pretty chest marred by a black and muddy patch of flesh over the left breast. Eve saw herself as Goo. She was in bed in another, much darker room, another pocket of time and she was kissing, sucking at his nipples. She was counting his ribs and marveling at his stomach muscles and still she didn’t feel anything. Now she looked at Mingus, who was pale and blushing and confused. She wished he would get up and explain this scene to her. She wanted to know what her character should be thinking.

Hello. Do you mind if I smoke? said Phineas.

Please, said Dizzy.

Eve stood in the doorway. She looked at Phineas, but he was looking at Dizzy and so she tugged at him with her eyes, she tried to pull his skin apart with her thoughts and now he looked back at her, he held out one hand.

Are you okay? he said.

Yes, she said and suddenly she didn’t want him to comfort her. She couldn’t stand it.

Phineas turned back to the others. How do you know it was a cop who shot him?

Oh, well.

We don’t, said Dizzy.

The two of them started talking at once and Eve smiled. Or you could call it a smile. Her lips slipped apart and she felt air on her teeth. They already sounded like lovers, she thought. Interrupting each other. Their words tangling together. Eve sighed. She looked at Chrome and didn’t recognize him.

Hungry.

She stepped over his body and touched Phineas on the shoulder with one finger. He moved aside and she poked through Dizzy’s fridge until she found a jar of dill pickles. Now she sat down and began to munch on a huge sour pickle, the jar between her legs in case she needed another one.

What should we do? she said.

Dizzy and Mingus looked at her. They shrugged as if joined at the hip and she remembered how irritating two people can be when they adore each other. Phineas coughed. He ground out his cigarette and fingered the yellow tie, he picked at a stain on the thin material. They all looked at him, waiting. Because he would know what to do. He was the adult.

Obviously, he said. We need to get rid of the body. Unless you want to tell this fantastic story to the cops.

No, said Dizzy. I don’t.

Okay, he said. I can help you. But I want to know whose tie this is.

Dizzy sighed. Wow. I almost forgot about him.

Who?

He said his name was Jimmy Sky.

Phineas laughed out loud and now he sounded a little fragile, Eve thought. He sounded like there was a big handful of mad laughter in his stomach and he could only let it out a little bit at a time because if he laughed it all out at once he would go fucking crazy. Eve licked her fingers and took another pickle from the jar. She watched as Phineas tied the yellow tie in a crooked knot around his neck. He was smiling a thin, bitter smile and it occurred to her that he might not want to be the adult.

No, he said. This isn’t high school and I’m not your big brother. I can make this body disappear but you can’t just go to bed and forget about it.

Who is Jimmy Sky? said Eve.

He’s no one, said Phineas. He used to be a friend of mine.

Well, she said. What did he want?

I think he came here to kill Christian, said Mingus.

And? said Phineas.

Mingus shrugged. Christian was already dying.

Jesus Christ. Phineas looked around the room as if he might be dreaming.

Dizzy touched his leg. What? she said.

I’m sick, he said. I feel sick.

It’s okay, she said. Everything is okay.

Have you ever had someone die in your kitchen? he said.

Dizzy hugged her knees. No, she said. Never.

You’re a Breather, right? he said.

Dizzy nodded. Yes.

And that means what? he said. That you’re clairvoyant? That you can smell my clothes or fondle my keys and see my past, my future?

Sometimes, she said. Only sometimes.

Mingus got up suddenly, nervously. He climbed onto the kitchen counter and sat there like a very tired boy and began to take off his shoes. Eve was empty, she felt empty. The pickles were making her ill and her boyfriend, who was not really her boyfriend, was dead. His body was two feet away. It was too much, really. She tried to put on a new face. A cheerful face. That’s what her mother would suggest and now she put a fist to her lips, trying not to laugh. Phineas pulled a fat paperback book out of his jacket pocket and Eve saw that it was a copy of Ulysses. He placed it on Christian’s chest and Eve flinched.

His body isn’t a coffee table, she said.

No, said Phineas.

He picked up the book and offered it to Dizzy, who received it gingerly, fearfully. As if it were made of lead.

That was Jimmy’s book, said Phineas.

Dizzy opened the book and read aloud: tired I feel now. Will I get up? O wait. Drained all the manhood out of me, little wretch. She kissed me. My youth. Never again. Only once it comes.

Phineas stared at her. Fantastic. But where is Jimmy Sky?

Dizzy closed the book and stroked the smooth, worn cover with the tip of her ring finger, then lifted the book to her mouth and kissed the spine, licked it. But she did not smell it.