The Altonevers (16 page)

“
I've never heard of money
being useless.”

“
You've never heard of
revenge? though this is not that.”

“
I have, though then
why?”

“
Where leaving, so the
money’s usually useless anywhere but here, like tickets to an
amusement park or something,” he says.

“
Why though? aren’t they
all connected?” she asks.

“
Yeah, infinitely and an
infinite number do and don’t take the money, sure, but the norm is
the money, even jewels and things often don’t take. The other
Alto’s usually don’t have the same values. I mean they do have
InterAlto currencies, but how do you value them, they’re
ridiculous. If you wanna take it for keepsakes, no ones stoppin’
ya. I used to do that but you’ll end up walking weighing a hundred
pounds more,” he says.

“
Yeah, sure,” she says,
thinking he leaves with nothing every chance he gets, empty handed
and hungry as a vagrant hitching to the next stop. The next town,
the next Alto over, over and over again. Forever for another fix of
being flush with adrenaline, and playing the odds for fortune and
fun.

“
Roll down your window,” he
says. She wheels the hand around tens of turns to open it only
halfway before tiring.

“
Hey,” Cider
shouts.

“
What is it?” Asks
Cinni.

“
Which way to get out of
here? And where are we going?” he shouts across her
face.

“
You don't know where
you’re going? Hahaha. Go straight and keep left. The roads will
narrow and twist and bend like bolts of lightning. Whatever you do,
don't stop, these little shadow sharks will eat you alive,” Cinni
says.

“
Hey I take offense to
that, I do.”

“
You shouldn't” Cider says,
to the soot youth.

“
You're right, I don't, do
I sir?”

“
No.”

“
Until when?” she
asks.

“
Until you are where you’re
going, the bottom of the well. Good travels to the two of you,”
Cinni says waving them off.

“
And to you.” he
says.

“
You too, goodbye,” Anna
says, rolling the window up as quickly as she can, which isn't
quickly at all. Cider shifts to first gear with a cranking bark,
and puts his foot to the pedal and the pedal to the floor. The car
leaps harshly to a high speed, leaving the Rasta and ruffian far
behind in a puff of soot. They ride rapidly through a kaleidoscope
of snowy black soot washing over their auto and whipping into a
thinning tail of trailing powder. Illustrating and sifting in the
wind of their slipstream as they easily plow through four foot high
soot drifts.

They continue careening
through the webbed intersections and tangled streets of a slum
haphazardly assembled over centuries. Cider's wildly driving, he is
either not good to drive or not too good at the driving. Either way
she's terrified, bracing herself on the dashboard and shouting at
the twisting turns. Squirming in her seat as they speed through the
slim streets while seeing nothing but soot covering the
windshield.
The only light inside the car
is from the reddish cherry of his lit smoke. They could barely see
a thing through the soot other then the sparks of the wheels and
sides of the car scraping against the curb and walls. The walls are
only inches wider than the curb on either side of them. The sand
like soot is stripping the car’s paint as the cobbled walls take
off its side mirrors. The soot storm fades in intensity and wipes
off the windshield in an instant of white bright flashing light
blinding their wide open eyes.

In an instant the powder covered car
is bouncing and skidding on the perfectly flat black asphalt of a
two lane country highway. The Auto is speeding away from a standing
tsunami of churning charcoal black dust reaching forever wide and
masking all but the highest heights of the time mosaic city’s
skyline. Anna watches it fade from the view of the rear view
mirror, staring until to the last city spire and grain of soot
falls under the horizon behind them.

An unsettling
stillness

Sailing along the black top at a top
speed of forty miles an hour for hours after the wall of churning
soot gave way to swathes of pillowy white puffs standing across the
sky. The cumulus clouds spread at their height to form an unmoving
wall stretching a hundred thousand thousand miles above them.
Dotted with blots of pastel blue at the bottoms of massive, miles
wide wells bored through to the show the other side of the sky, as
though eaten through as a worm through an apple.

There are no shadows cast from the
clouds, or trees or brush to cast one either. Not a shred of shade
no matter where she looks. Only an unblemished asphalt road woven
between a sea of untouched emerald hills gently sloping away to
eventually melt into a hazy green horizon. Windless, everything is
still, even the air is standing stagnant. There is no noise aside
from the percussive clopping of the engine's gallop, and the
squeaking of brakes breaking up their conversation. Sitting without
seat belts to be comfortable, she braces with her feet as the
brakes usually proceed the car swerving to stay on the two lane
road.

It's been hard to tell the
hour since his pocket watch stopped, since the sun doesn’t move
through the sky, nor does a single blade of grass ever budge or
sparse sprouted oak tree's leaves ever waver in the wind. The air
is scentless and devoid of any motion. Even with the window down at
full speed Cider’s second hand smoke fills the shape of the cabin,
only moving when their bodies move. The gasometer ticking down to E
is the only measure of time they have. Trickling down by the drip,
it's lever dips lower with each drop of dwindling fuel consumed,
carrying the two down the seemingly unending serene scenery
surrounding them. Of a meandering unblemished asphalt road cleaving
nearly indistinguishable pristine green slopes starkly standing
against the immense ivory clouded sky.
Fresh from a drooling nap on his shoulder, wondering about
breakfast and why she isn't actually hungry or thirsty. Her muscles
ache with the stiffness of being seated for days on end. The
stillness was subtle and forgettable, but is now an inescapable
mind teasing void. Unnerving them to think introspectively after
yammering until exhausting conversation to avoid it.

He grips the wheel, it reminding him
that he's something that physically exists. She occasionally pokes
her head through the window to see the spinning wheels for a sense
of motion at work to ground her drifting thoughts. Days more pass
by the feel of their flesh and rigid joints, though still not
feeling the slightest bit sleepy. The gas lever dripped to nearly
empty, by now feeling like they've next to each other and in their
own thoughts for a week. He's thinking of his life of recurring
chaos, trying to remember what his memories felt like as he was
first making them. Of himself in mismatched clothes as a dustbowl
child. Of conductors, and countless scores. Scores of flashing
muzzles and bar fights, and the endless beds of brothels. Though
unable to recall any emotion with many of his recollections, as
though he's only looking at advertisements of himself through
another person’s eyes. He peeks over to her, in seeing she’s there
he remembers that he has the present while persisting in this
landscape of sense perturbing stillness.

She, forgetting the breakfast that she
has no want for, drifts into contemplating existence as being a
collector of thoughts and sensations. That to live, is in a way to
grow one’s own ever evolving string of blurred images and emotions.
That each memory becomes part of a wake left by your perception
meeting the present you're in. By perceiving in the present what is
pleasing to oneself and to be receptive of the reality around her,
is to be alive. That to leave a beautiful wake to remember is to
live a life worth living. She looks over at him, wondering what's
next to come, to be indulged into memory.

“
Where are we?” she
asks.

“
How would I know better,
I've been with you the whole time.”

“
How long till we're out of
fuel?” she asks.

“
Won't know until we
stop.”

“
Then what? We'll have to
leg it?”

“
At least there’s daylight.
Perpetual, unchanging daylight.”

“
Can I drive?” she
asks.

“
No.”

“
Why not?” she
asks.

“
Nope.”

“
Please.”

“
Can you drive?” he Asks.
She looks away, over the hills to the scene so simple for so long,
it now seems like nothing for the mind to grasp. He loosens his
grip, figuring she can't possibly crash.

“
Fine.”

“
I can? really?”

“
Really what? it's a fine
afternoon, perpetually,” he says. She folds her arms and leers at
him unflinchingly for several still minutes with her honey eyes
standing starkly against the ceaseless green behind her.

“
I'm not gonna break,” he
says.

“
But you just have,” she
replies as he takes his foot off the brake.

“
Ha.”

“
What's the worst that
happen?” she asks.

“
You'll crash.”

“
Into what? there's nothing
here but grass and clouds.”

“
Yeah, and you'll crash in
to one of em.”

“
Oh shut up.”

“
Okay,” he drops the
conversation and feigns attention to the road.

“
No! let me drive,” she
says grabbing for the wheel.

“
Hmm, no.”

“
You don't let me do
anything.”

“
Sure I do, I don't stop
you from doing anything.”

“
Yeah maybe, but you’re not
letting me do this.”

“
Okay.”

“
Yes!”

“
I’ll think about it,” he
says. He continues ribbing her until she aches of it, and her face
flusters and flushes red, so she elbows him sharply in the
ribs.

“
Stop.”

“
No,” she says.

“
Ha, owww,
stop.”

“
I'll think about
it.”

“
You’re already gonna make
us crash.”

“
Into what?
dummy.”

“
Fine, fine you can
drive.”

“
Thank you,” she says
triumphantly, ceasing her flurry of pointy elbows as he rustles in
his coat back to comfort.

“
You said I can drive,” she
says a minute later.

“
Okay,” he sighs, “one
minute.” The car stops and she hopes out. The smoke stays the shape
of the cabin, but follow her out of the car. Giddily running across
the headlights and jumping into the driver's seat. she settles in,
nestling herself into the shape of his indent, and fidgeting with
the mirrors,

“
Okay ready!?” she
asks.

“
Are you? then shift into
gear,” he says shrugging. Trying to relieve her of the worry of
crashing.

“
Okay,” she strains to jerk
the old mechanical lever into first. She exhales then puts her foot
on the pedal, feeling like a momentous moment to her. The car
roars, then shaking off the rumble of its starting, gallops in
place. He watches her excitement as she giddily taps the gas a few
times, like dipping her toes into cold water before she jumps.
Hardly moving a quarter mile forward before the gas meter falls to
empty and the engine slows then stalls and the car
shakes.

“
What? did I break it?” she
asks.

“
No. Haahaha we're out of
gas.”

“
I hate you,” she says, and
they drift for a hostile hundred feet before coming to a silent
stop. The smoke of tens of cigarettes still doesn't budge,
retaining the shape of the cabin with the doors wide
open.

“
Hey,” she says
sweetly.

“
What is it?” he says with
his body half through the door, she holds his attention then shoves
him off the seat. His fumes follow him like webs as he flops to the
ground. She stretches her legs, then steps out onto the grass
whistling victory. Anna stares at him tapping her foot as he sits
up rubbing his head.

“
Idiot!”

“
What'd I do?” he asks
showing her his palms. Anna's stare is as unchanging as the fields
all around them. His blushing puppy dog face wears on her and
spreads a smile across her's. He stands and the two stretch their
cramped feeling limbs.

“
Alright let's get going,
ah somewhere,” he says brushing himself off. Starting on the leg
stretching march down the long unchanging road.

“
Ahh. Feels good, good to
be out in the open, out of that cramped cabin,” he says.

“
Feels good to be walking
about, in the fresh air, refreshing. Tiring,”

“
I'm sorry for lying to
you.”

“
About what?”