Carry Me Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 / Nebraska

1. Where do bad folks go when they die?

The doors to May’s truck were open. May stood over one door, and Tony over the other. The sun was setting behind them like an acorn falling from the universal tree. The sky was speckled and cracked like moss on a rock, like static red lightning.

“This is an evil stretch of highway.” May said, looking out over a golden sea of grain. Everything was cast in red light, like Rome was burning above.

“Why?” Tony asked.

“Its haunted,” May said. Tony looked over at her and laughed. His hair blew over his face and into his eyes. It was getting long.

“You’re serious?”

“Why not?” May shrugged. “Things exist that are beyond our understanding, a lot of them show up in Nebraska.”

“Why do you think so?” Tony asked.

“Mail recovery centers, international crime syndicates, graveyards.” May got back into the car and started it. She put in a new tape; it was the Meat Puppets.

“The crime syndicate you work for?” asked Tony.

“Yeah, actually I have to drop off the package… and probably I should quit.” May tapped on the steering wheel.

“Are you nervous or something?” Tony frowned.

“I mean, they might kill me,” May bit her lip. Tony laughed. May looked at him.

“You’re serious?” Tony’s eyes widened. “Well fuck, May. Do you have a plan? Maybe we shouldn’t go?”

“I think if I didn’t go, they would probably definitely kill me.” May tapped on the wheel.

“Well where are we going?”

“The mail recovery center in Lincoln.” May said. “I’m going to park down the street, and you are going to wait in the car.”

“How will I know if you got killed?” asked Tony, starting to feel very anxious.

“I’ll text you.” She smiled.

“You don’t have a cell phone.” Tony threw up his hands. “This is all a joke to you isn’t it? I’m new at this thing, give me a break.”

“Listen, I’m probably exaggerating. Don’t worry about it.” Tony slumped back in his seat like a half empty bag of cornmeal. If someone opened it, moths would fly out.

Nebraska flew by like an old photograph. There were cows and barns and modest little diners on the side of the interstate. The whole thing to be in a whole decade or two behind from Los Angeles, less evolved, differently formed. Tony shook his head, trying to stay awake the whole way to Lincoln. May was unusually quiet as she drove, Tony thought he knew why but he ignored it. Tony considered her beautiful, but she had never been more lovely than she had in the Nebraska starlight. It was as though she would suddenly turn into a swarm of butterflies and disappear completely.

The lights of Los Angeles corrupted everything, but this was pure like children’s literature or lullaby covers of Queen. Tony hated that it might leave. Just like that something grew in him, something uncomfortable and seasick like impending death. It stuck in his throat but moved down into his belly. Tony looked over at May for a second and almost threw up. She knew nothing of his nausea, but returned his look with eyes that reflected only stars.

“Oh, Tony,” Vincent whispered. “You always were such an asshole.” Tony ignored him. There was alchemy in those eyes.

2. Chloe’s just like me, only beautiful.

May parked down the street like she said she would, Mother Love Bone was playing on the radio. She put the car in park and gave a hesitant smile to Tony, who looked aghast.

“What?” her eyes opened wide.

“Good luck I guess,” he said. In a sudden movement, she grabbed both sides of his head and gave him a kiss.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. Tony barely heard the car door slam. He was stunned. Vincent climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Tony, you need to focus,” he said. “Stop looking for past selves.”

“What does that mean, Vince?” asked Tony.

“It means: May isn’t Sarah. So stop trying to turn her into her.” Vincent crossed his arms.

“I don’t think that’s what I’m doing.” Tony frowned.

“You are. You’re trying to pick up where you left off. Its not fair to May, Tony. Think about her,” he raised his voice a little. Tony opened the door, and got out.

“I need some fresh air,” he said. “When I get back, don’t be here. Too much is going on right now.”

“Alright, Tony. Just be careful.” Vincent said. “I will be here when you get back. I’m always here.”

Tony kept walking, focusing on what was around him. Lincoln seemed like an okay city. The sun was bright and the sky was almost as big as the universe. Tony walked for a while, but was nervous that May would get back and find him gone. Instead, he went and sat on a bench nearby the car, and waited. He worried about her a bit and paced around, he twiddled his thumbs and attempted to not be creepy. He thought his unkempt appearance and bad hygiene coupled with his weird behavior probably made him seem homeless and crazy. Then it occurred to him that he was in fact, both of those things. After he thought a bit more and concluded that if he knew he was crazy, he must not be; he dozed off.

Meanwhile at the Mail Recovery Center, May waited in a chair by the window. The tiles were white and blue-gray. Two mail clerks argued behind a granite counter like Rock’em Sock’em Robots. One of their heads came off and the other helped him reattach it.

“May.” A young man approached her. He was wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt. “Come with me.” His tone, like his clothes, was unassuming.

“Beautiful weather,” he said, leading her through a doorway and into narrow corridor. “Seems like centuries since we’ve gotten weather like this. Beautiful.”

“Its really hot in Utah.” May didn’t look at him.

“Now, I know you want to see Mr. Box, but he’s a little burnt out right now, so… you could just talk to me, and I’ll take care of it.” He stopped right before they reached a doorway.

“Thanks for your help, Aesop, I’ll see you later.” She opened the door and stepped inside before he could protest.

“May.” Mr. Box giggled from behind his desk. The room was littered with envelopes, packing material, and cardboard. “I was expecting you.” His eyes were red and wet like racing stripes in the rain.

“You were…?” May was puzzled. He gestured for her to sit. She did.

“May, I’ve been considering very carefully my purpose in relation to the greater body.” He pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket and lit it, then put it back in his breast pocket. Smoke came out of it.

“What have you decided?”

“Well I’ve been thinking about consciousness. I used to think that when you died, consciousness ceased. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Why?”

“Universal Consciousness… the great spirit.” He stood up and took the cigarette out of his pocket. He put it on his lip and paced around the room. “I’m nearly certain that it exists. Now, the question is, does non-material consciousness exist outside of the great spirit, can I transcend my need for a physical body?”

“You never told me what you thought your purpose was.” May said.

“To dismantle the supreme consciousness. Too long have we lived under the tyranny of the physical world, its time to ascend to transcendence. I know it, you know it… it knows too. That’s why it chose me, May.”

“Right. Anyway, I quit. I hope you enjoyed all those drugs.” May got up, and left the room. She felt better already.

3. I was in bed with the girl at the end of the world

Tony woke up to the faint smell of poppies. There was a man sitting on the bench with him, but it was a different bench. It was hovering over a pool of water in a dense forest, a forest of red leaves. A breeze moved through them, generating a sound like a thousand hushed voices all gossiping in unison.

“They’re coming for you, Tony.” The man turned to him. His face was pasty yellow-orange with no lips, giving him a hideous smile. The smell was getting stronger. Tony felt his thoughts getting weaker; his consciousness began to fade. Suddenly the sounds of the forest stopped and he was in a dark corridor. Vincent appeared at the end of it, reaching his hand out.

“Tony!” He yelled. Tony tried to form the words to respond but he could not. There was a sound like an explosion, the sensation of being pumped into a pipe. Tony saw New York City from high up. It was turning. Tony tried to look at his feet or his hands but he could not. The city continued to turn, until its edges met in the center and a new city appeared. The sensation of falling followed. Tony had his body back, he was a on a black and white checkerboard floor in a room full of sinks. They all turned on simultaneously. The sound of the water flowing quickly turned into screaming. Tony felt himself get sucked out of the room as though by an ocean current. He felt the current get so strong that it tore his body apart. He could see his arm float by, his leg, his bowels. As he watched, a serpent soared past his body, turned around, and swallowed its own tail. There was a flash, like a camera. Tony had been put back together. He was standing on a rock in the middle of an underground lake.

“Please stop.” His voice echoed around the cave a thousand times, so many times that it began to say different things.

“Stop Please.”

“Opst aseple.”

“Pots esaelp.” The acoustic nature of the cavern was impeccable. Vincent appeared at his side.

“We’re in this together, this time,” he whispered. Tony felt himself get knocked backward, as though he had been punched in the face. He fell into a chair. Vincent still stood at his side. They were in a small, dimly lit room with white birds painted on the blue walls. A white moth flew into the window and landed on the opposing wall. Sarah came into the room. She came and sat on his lap, stroked his hair.

“Come back, Tony.” She said.

“What did you say?” Tony’s choked whisper seemed to drain all the other sound out of the room.

“Come back.” She vanished, as did everything that existed. The only thing that Tony could feel was pain, hot knives through his bones and eyes. Tony woke himself up with the sound of his screaming. Strong arms were holding him down.

“He’s conscious, I think.” The man said. Tony pushed his arms away.

“Dude, your heart was beating so fast I thought you were gonna die.” He turned to May. Tony felt the knives flex in his skin. He fell off the bench and tried to stand, but he couldn’t. He threw up on the ground.

“Aesop!” he heard May say.

“I didn’t know he was going to fall,” he said. The voices were distant. Tony was not sure if he was awake yet, but it didn’t matter.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” May said it slowly as though she thought Tony was hard of hearing. Tony shook his head.

“I need a cigarette,” he said. Aesop reached into his back pocket and gave him one. Tony put it in his mouth and Aesop lit it with his lighter.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Aesop sat on the ground by Tony.

“What happened?” asked May, kneeling next to him.

“Bad dream,” said Tony.

“Does this happen often?” asked Aesop.

“Not really.”

“But it has happened before?” Aesop seemed reasonably curious.

“Yes.” Tony inhaled deeply.

“You should talk to Mr. Box,” Aesop said. “He’s really good at interpreting dreams.”

“We should get going, you probably want to rest… don’t you?” May’s voice was urgent. Tony realized that May thought that talking to Mr. Box was a bad idea.

“Yeah I think I should rest.”

“No, I insist. Come on,” Aesop helped Tony up. “Its just a little chat.” Aesop grabbed Tony by the elbow. They didn’t speak as they walked a block to the post office. It was like a film without a soundtrack, all traffic noises and atmosphere. Aesop went into the room to talk with Mr. Box for a second. He told May and Tony to wait for him. May stared cautiously at Tony. She was urging him not to tell Mr. Box anything.

“Go on in Tony, he’s really interested.” Aesop came out and sat next to May. Tony went into the small office.

“I just recovered a package…” Mr. Box said. “I’m pretty excited about it.” He pulled out a chair for Tony. Tony sat down reluctantly. “It’s a talking board, the accompanying message claims that it was found buried outside an elementary school in Nevada, that just before it was unearthed the school had burned to the ground.”

“Creepy.” Tony said.

“I like creepy.” Mr. Box said. “Fortunately I’m not sure I believe its possible to communicate with the dead, but I do believe there are ways to communicate with occult spirits or forces. For some it is easier than others, some catch glimpses of this non-material mental activity in their dreams, others are chosen, Tony, they are spoken to. It is not easy to listen, most of these people end up in mental institutions, but the phenomenon that Aesop just described to me intrigues me.”

“Okay…” Tony had trouble keeping up.

“What I mean is, I think that your episode isn’t a symptom of some sort of mental disorder, I believe it represents a communion with the universal consciousness.”

“I do have a mental disorder.” Tony said.

“Of course you do.” Mr. Box smiled. “Anyway, I’d like you to test this talking board with me. Its always fun to do it with someone who has psychic potential.”

“I think I should go.” Tony said.

“I insist.” Mr. Box’s voice was stern. Tony thought he saw the lights flicker a little.

“Okay, whatever. Then can I leave?”

“Sure.” Mr. Box put the board on the desk. He produced a wooden planchette from his desk, and placed it on the board. He put his hand on it and smiled at Tony with canine eyes. Tony put his hand on the other end. As soon as he did, it began to move. Mr. Box eagerly wrote down each letter it lingered over on his notepad. Then, the planchette moved to ‘end,’ and stayed there. Mr. Box looked at the note, confusion passing in front of his eyes like a sheet.

“Does this mean anything to you?” he asked, handing Tony the paper. Tony looked at it.

Henry Vernon

“No, it doesn’t mean anything to me.” Tony gave it back to him. Mr. Box

looked at it again.

“Maybe it’s an anagram?” Mr. Box searched the letters for secrets.

“Can I go now?” Tony asked. Mr. Box’s investigation of the letters came to a halt. He eyed Tony with the hunger of a starving lion. His eyes were as red as raw steak.

“Go ahead.” He nodded, “take this with you.” He handed him the slip of paper with the name written on it. Tony pocketed it, and left the room, he did not say goodbye. Outside May was sitting with her legs crossed, Aesop was leaning towards her, talking quietly to her. She didn’t look as though she was listening very closely.

“Let’s go.” Tony didn’t stop walking. May got up and followed him.

“Hey, I thought you were going to stay the night!” Aesop said, getting up.

“We can’t, Aesop, we have a lot of ground to make up,” May waved. “It was nice to see you though.” Tony and May left through the front door, Aesop watched through the window as their car pulled away. When he turned around, Mr. Box was standing there, shuffling a deck of cards.

“Draw a card,” he said, spreading them out. Aesop took one. It was the ace of clubs. He showed Mr. Box, who nodded and said: “Don’t make a mess.”