“That was some trip! I ain’t felt nuthin’ like that since—well, since before I wuz in rehab.” For the first time, Tina was embarrassed. It meant that she cared what Mich and Nola thought of her, and it was a step in the right direction.
“Hey, man, I’m starvin’. Whacha say ‘bout hitting the deli downtown for a sub or something?”
Nola wasn’t very hungry. She was worried about Mich. However, for the sake of herself and her friends, she faked optimism. “Sounds great! It’ll be a nice change from luberries.” She noted Mich’s expression and quickly added, “Though luberries would be great on some ice cream.”
“Better yet, you gotta let me cook you guys a dinner.”
Nola looked at Mich and he looked at her.
“Hey, come on, I’ll fix us some spaghetti—homemade, my grandpa’s recipe,” Tina said enticingly.
Nola laughed at how hard she was trying to convince them. “Oh, okay!” she said. “Where do you live?”
“Where else d’ya think a ho like me would live? Park Avenue or sumthin’?” She laughed. “I live on North Fourteenth Street. Come on, we can take the subway train. It oughtta be fun for you.” She smiled, looking at Mich.
He wondered what a subway train was. It was apparent that he was going to find out.
The trio walked through the suburbs for some time, then into the city and hailed a cab. Fortunately Tina had change for it. The cab carried them to the closest subway station.
It took the girls time to coax Mich onto the escalator. He was afraid that if he fell, the teeth at the bottom would eat him. Once they were on the train, Mich was full of questions about how the train ran, which led them into a discussion about the magic of electricity. Mich commented that it reminded him of riding the worms in their caverns.
When they arrived at Tina’s apartment, the day had waned. She took them first to the roof of the twelve-story building and showed them the view. The night was warm and breezy and the skyline was alive with manmade stars. It was hard to tell where the city ended and the sky began. Nola explained to Mich that each light belonged to someone’s home or workplace and he was astounded that so many people could live so close together. He had never seen a high-rise section during the days they had spent near the beach, so perhaps had thought that multistory buildings were rare. Here they grew like weeds.
Inside her huge apartment, Tina cooked the spaghetti. She stewed her sauce for an hour while they discussed recent events and future plans. The room filled with the delicious smells of food. She served them warm brandy tea and cheese and crackers.
Nola noticed how much nicer Tina’s apartment was than the one she had shared with John. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen with a separate breakfast nook, a small dining room and a large living room. She had matching furniture and a wall unit with bookshelves, a big-screen television and a nice stereo. Nola couldn’t understand how someone who had all of this could be unhappy. Sure, the way she got it wasn’t too great, but even Nola would be proud to have a place like this, no matter what she did.
Tina understood her thought. “Sure, here’s where I’m halfway happy. It’s the street I don’t like—but that’s where I gotta be, every night, if I don’t want to lose this.”
Just as Nola had to be with John, if she didn’t want to be on the street herself. It did make dismal sense.
“So, what goes on from here?” Tina asked Mich.
“I wish I knew,” he replied. “I guess the only thing we can do is wait. I hope we can find a way back before it’s too late.”
“What’ll happen if ya don’t get back in time?”
Mich shook off that unpleasant thought. “I suppose there will be no more Kafka.”
“And no more dreams for Earth,” Nola said.
Tina shrugged. “Who needs ‘em anyhow? I sure as hell don’t. I do just fine without ’em.”
Mich shook his head. “No, you don’t.”
Tina leaned forward, feigning interest. “ Whadaya mean, I don’t? I got all this stuff, don’t I?”
“Let me answer your question by asking you a question: What were you like as a child?”
Tina looked shocked by the question, but settled herself to ponder. “I suppose I wuz a pretty good kid,” she said. “I mean, I got good grades and I had a lotta friends.” She sipped the warm tea. “I didn’t actually rebel until my dad died and my mom remarried. I wuz a bitch cuz I blamed her for my dad dying. He died in a car crash, ya know,” she said, sipping her tea again. “He wuz wasted and my mom let’m drive to the store to git more beer. He passed out at the wheel and drove off a bridge. He died instantly.” She looked down into her cup. “Then it was just me V Grandpa. He brought me up from a teenager. I wuz happy then. I went on through high school getting straight A’s. I was never not on the honor roll.” Tina sniffed. She wiped her eyes with a napkin. “My grandpa was always proud of me. He ‘d brag to all his geezer friends ’bout me. Then, at my graduation, he was huggin’ me and screamin’ so loud, so that everyone could hear’m. He was so happy. But I guess the excitement was too much for him. He had an attack and died in my arms.”
“Oh, Tina, that’s so awful!”
“I ain’t finished yet, girlie!” Tina snapped. “Well, I couldn’t handle
it so I turned my back on everythin’ I’d learned and took up drinkin’ and drugs. I done everything from pot to ice. That last shit almost killed me. My grandpa left me well off, so I was able to buy lots of it, and I did. But the cash started runnin’ out an’ I needed more ice, so I tried to git me a job. I couldn’t even git my damn foot in the door. So I sold the only thing I had left, my body, and I made money. Lots of cash. Then one day, I had been doin’ so much ice that I passed out in the street and lay there for three days. I wuz awake, but I couldn’t move an’ I didn’t even realize how long I wuz there until I saw the paper. It only felt like a few minutes. I was skin and bones while I was on that stuff cuz I wuz never hungry. Eventually, I guess somebody didn’t like my body stinkin’ up the place, so the cops came an’ put me in rehab. You know, they had to tie me to a damn bed so that I wouldn’t get out to get more ice. I think it was illegal and it was a nightmare on that bed. I was on it for a whole week, going through the most painful and emotional withdrawals I’d ever gone through. The time I spent in that place comin’ down was one of the worst times of my life, but it was worse being puppet to them crystals. I was glad for it later. Then I wuz straight for a while, till I hooked up with that fat bastard that raped me after being with a VD chick. Then—you know the rest.”
Tina looked at them for comments. Both had concerned looks on their faces, but neither spoke. “It’s okay. I’m done now,” she said.
“Are you?” Nola asked.
Tina nodded. “Uh, yeah. I dreamed. I didn’t tell nobody, because nobody would’ve believed it. But you know about that, seein’ as where we ’ve just been. And sometimes I felt this weird tug, like somewhere I had to be, but I couldn’t find it, and anyway, I wuz busy. I guess you know that too, cuz I didn’t find you, you found me.”
“Yes,” Nola agreed. “I didn’t even know I was looking for another Dreamer.”
“Oh, well,” Mich said. “That’s quite a story. Do you understand, now, why you need dreams?”
“No.”
Nola smiled, knowing that Tina was having another fit of perversity. She had quickly bloomed in Kafka, souring only for a while when it seemed that her Creation rejected her.
“When you were a child, you had dreams and wishes, but people destroyed them and dragged you down. They destroyed your dreams and—no offense, they turned you into someone who doesn’t care about herself or others.”
Nola broke in before Tina could come up with a snide comment. “You know, I had just as much reason as you to have my dreams crushed. My father disowned me and my mother could have cared less what I did. I was pregnant at sixteen and was forced to make a tough and heartbreaking decision to abort the pregnancy. One of my last boyfriends, who I loved very muc
h, beat me up constantly until he strangled me and left me for dead. But I tried to handle it differently from you. The more people brought me down, the harder I tried. I relied so much upon my belief that somewhere, out there, was Mich. If it wasn’t for that belief, and the thought of someday meeting him, I would be dead by my own hand.”
Mich was touched. He hadn’t realized how much she believed and relied on him. Why, then, couldn’t she trust him? Had Earth had that much of an effect on her? From what he knew of this world, it would probably affect him the same way. He felt out of place because he was the only one in the room who had an easy upbringing. The easiest possible! He hoped that they wouldn’t be prejudiced against him for it.
“That’s pretty sad too,” Tina said. “I suppose I can understand whatcher sayin’ now. You mean, if Kafka is gone, then everyone will belike me?”
“That’s the gist,” Mich said as he stuffed a cheese-laden cracker in his mouth. “But it’s not too late for you. King Kras is still alive. Maybe.”
“Ha! Holy crap!” Tina laughed. “I didn’t know it was that bad! We gotta get back there! We don’t need a whole planet full of people like me!”
Tina was laughing, but, somehow, she didn’t feel like laughing. It wasn’t funny. No matter how bad it treated her, Earth was her home and the only place she ever wanted to be. If people had no hope and no dreams, the whole world would be covered with the blood of people slitting their wrists and everyone would get whacked out on drugs and start killing each other for another hit. She decided she ‘d have to give serious thought to fighting back and regaining her hope. Maybe with the help of these two quirky friends, she could do it. Whatever happened, it would take her a long time to heal enough to be in fighting condition.
Tina looked up and sniffed the air. “Oh, fudge! My sauce is burning!” she said as she dashed into the kitchen.
When she was gone, Nola held Mich’s hand.
“Mich,” she said, “I know she’s a Creator, but maybe she should stay here. I mean, if she has any dreams left, there aren’t that many. Maybe Reility would just destroy any she has left.”
“I know what you mean, Nola, but she could be a big help if she finds out how to use her ability to Create, as will you. She’s just too valuable. Besides, I don’t think she’d let us leave without her.”
“Soup’s on!” Tina said, smiling. Those smiles were rare, but when they happened, they could light up the room.
She served the dinner steaming hot, with garlic bread and sodas. The smell made Nola’s mouth water. She didn’t realize just how much she missed the food here. Mich had never seen food like this before, but the smell got to him too. They were all hungry.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Tina sighed and got up to answer it.
It was a man wearing dark glasses, a wide-brimmed hat and a black trench coat. Nola thought he looked like something out of a Humphrey Bogart picture, only fatter.
“Johnboy!” Tina cried happily. The two embraced. “Whacha doin’ here?”
Nola felt a cold shiver. This was Tina’s pimp? He reminded her deviously of Kras, the worm king, perhaps by no coincidence. Who could say where a Creator got her inspiration?
“I came to check on my girl. Where you been?”
Tina held the door open so that he could come inside. “I been on vacation.”
Johnboy laughed at the joke. He scanned the room and noticed Mich and Nola.
“Who are these two?” His tone took on a seriousness that made them nervous.
“Oh. Them two? They’re okay. That’s Nola and that’s Mich.”
Nola pushed forth a slight smile. Mich reached for Johnboy’s hand. The large man came forward and pumped it a few times, then let go. He continued to study them for a moment, then looked back at Tina.
“So it seems I’m just in time for dinner!” He lifted the lid that covered the sauce. “You made this? Smells good. You always were a good cook.”
He took a seat next to Mich and served himself some spaghetti. He watched Nola out of the corner of his eye with an intensity that made her want to excuse herself and run into the bathroom. She was afraid he might be thinking of her as a potential employee.
Tina must have been thinking the same thing. Tina checked her watch as if she had just noticed what time it was. “Would you look at that! It’s already ten-thirty.” She looked at Nola as if she was disappointed. “It’s time for us to go. Maybe I can get us a ticket to your friend’s house, uh, Lori,” she finished. Nola had mentioned her friend, Lori, so that was where that name came from. Tina must figure that they needed all the concealment they could get.
Tina looked expectantly at Nola, praying that she had caught on and would not give her away. She didn’t. “Oh, that’s right! I almost forgot. We’d better get going, Mich.”
Mich looked up from his plate. “Huh? I thought—” Nola nudged his arm. “Oh, yeah! Lori! We are already late; we better get to the bus house, uh, station,” he said quickly and started for the door.
Johnboy rose and slid his dark glasses down his nose so that he could see Mich’s eyes clearly. His own eyes were bloodshot. “There’s no reason to take the bus.” He smiled, showing uneven teeth. “I got a perfectly good Cadillac downstairs. I’ll drive you.”
His tone deepened with his last words. It was obvious that he suspected something. It was also obvious that if they refused, they might never get back to Kafka.
Nola didn’t see any reason why they should not go with him. He seemed nice enough, on the surface. Her years of life had instilled in her the principle never to trust a stranger, but she had never been betrayed by one. It was always those who knew one best who hurt one most. However, she was afraid of him and it was that fear that decided her. Better to play along than to risk giving herself away and ending up on the streets like Tina.
Tina noted her hesitation and said, “It’s okay, Nola.” She hugged the man. “He’s as sweet as a teddy bear. He won’t hurt ya if you don’t want him to.”
Johnboy laughed and Tina was smiling. Nola knew that Tina’s smiles were genuine. It seemed as if she had no choice. Still the doubt nagged at her. There was something phony about this situation, and Tina had given her warning in her fashion. She looked to Mich, who just shrugged. This was her world, not his.
“Okay,” she said a bit uneasily.
Johnboy took a step toward the door. As soon as his fingers touched the knob, there was a loud crash and the door flung open, throwing Johnboy back onto the glass coffee table, shattering it.
Tina screamed, but the scream went unheard. Both Nola and Mich were staring, disbelieving, frozen with fear.
Johnboy looked around, dazed. “What the hell?” he said as he tried to sit up.
“Click” went the hammer on the revolver that was now held between Johnboy’s eyes. “You move, boy, and you die.”
Three men had broken in the door and were standing in the foyer. One man held the gun at Johnboy’s forehead while the other two stood by and watched.
Johnboy cringed and cowered beneath the weight of what, he felt sure, was death’s hand. All his pride, fearlessness and strength could not help him now. They had found him. In seconds, his tall, portly body was reduced to a shriveling mass of sweat and tears. He was afraid that this would be the end of him. He hoped Tina would escape. The only thing he could do was buy some time.
Johnboy tried to inch away from the barrel of the gun, but it only pressed harder, cutting his flesh. “Look, man, I don’t know what you want,” Johnboy said, quailing.
“You know exactly why we're here, boy.”
The two men grabbed Johnboy’s arms and lifted him up. “We're here to collect.”
Tina gasped. She could see from behind that Johnboy’s arms and back had several cuts from the glass of the table and were bleeding. She knew why the men were here. Johnboy had some kind of partnership going with these men. They imported several types of drugs.
Johnboy distributed them to dealers. But he made t
he biggest mistake a distributor could ever make: to get hooked on the drugs he sold. Now Johnboy owed money. A lot of money. He was her friend and she had tried hard to help him come up with the cash, but he just popped, snorted, shot, drank or smoked it up, along with the rest of his money.
Nola’s mind was spinning. She had never gotten hooked on drugs, but she had seen enough to have a fair notion of Johnboy’s situation. He had been looking for more girls to pimp for, because he had heavy debts to pay off. Nola might have found it very difficult to get out of that Cadillac without having something addictive forced into her, and Mich might have left it dead. But that was no longer the real threat. All of her conscious thoughts were blinded by fear. Her eyes were fixed past Johnboy’s bloody back, fixed beyond the gun, fixed beyond the men, fixed beyond the open door. She was praying that someone, anyone, would walk by and offer some kind of help. She kept trying to scream, but her throat was blocked by her heart.
Mich stared in disbelief at Johnboy and the men. He was well aware that a life was about to be taken right here in front of him. He too kept glancing at the door, though not for help, but escape. If only he were offered a chance, just one second of distraction. The doorway was so close.
“You choose. Pay up or say your prayers,” the man said calmly.
There was a look of sheer terror in Johnboy’s eyes. He did not have one cent to give, but he did not want to die. Not like this. There was too much left for him to do. He wanted to die a clean man, not a broken one. He scraped the deep recesses of his brain for an answer, any answer. Anything to get that gun barrel away from his head. Deep within, he found a way out, but it was an evil way. It was a way that would save his life but, later, would take it from him in another way.
“I don’t have the money.”
“Then you die.” The man cocked the hammer.
“Wait! You guys got me wrong! I can pay!”
The armed man turned and looked at his comrades, then back at the beaten dog that was Johnboy. He was smiling wryly. “Whatchoo got, then?”