Now hush, I can’t hear the clicks with all this talking!
A man came up, smiling and rubbing his hands. Gibbles, hiya. Everything okay?
I was helping. I was —
The man turned his smile upon Sam. Sorry if my wife was short with you. She tied one on last night is all.
My bag broke okay, said Sam. He poked his hand through the jagged hole, waved at himself. That’s good communication, he said.
The man’s smile faltered — and returned, blazing. He looked around the park, at the families and the trees and past everything, to the sky. Heck of a nice day, he said, isn’t it?
Yes, said Sam. It’s a nice day isn’t it.
Gip leapt to his feet. I did it!
The lock hung open.
Wait, said Sam. How? What did you do?
The boy closed his eyes and in a low, sonorous voice said, I have removed the fog of obscurity to reveal the truth. I have only illustrated what you have always known to be true.
VII
HE PHONE RANG and rang. Sometimes this happened, Adine knew, the connections on the Islet were dicey, when lines went down hours would often pass before workers and the proper equipment could be shipped out, plus whatever time it took for repairs. But there’d been no storm, it was late afternoon now, and Adine had been trying Sam since lunch.
The door opened.
Adine hung up.
Debbie came over, kissed Adine’s forehead. You left all the bedding out?
Can’t see, said Adine, tapping her goggles.
Right. Can’t put the bedding away, can’t clean the mousetraps —
Adine sniffed. It smells in here. Your friend left his scent.
Debbie moved into the kitchen. Cupboards were opened, pots and pans clanged and rattled. Adine turned on the TV.
Where’s that big casserole dish? called Debbie.
You’re making a casserole? Is that my dinner?
More banging around.
What are you doing in there?
Adine felt her way to the kitchen. It smells even weirder in here. Are you cooking?
Nope.
Then?
It’s probably the bird.
The. . bird?
Yeah.
What, you bought a bird? To what — roast?
No, I found one. It’s hurt.
Oh man. First that snoring monster, now this. It better not sing all night, because I can’t take something tweeting and twittering —
No. I told you, it’s hurt. I’m making it a bed.
And then?
And then we’ll nurse it better.
Nurse it. At your bosom? Should I be jealous?
No reply. Adine felt they were on a raft with a slow leak. She stepped forward, groped, found Debbie’s elbow.
I was just trying to be funny.
Were you?
Wasn’t I?
The air shifted: she sensed Debbie facing her now, imagined those wide eyes all wounded and withering. She rubbed Debbie’s arm, up and down, mechanically.
The arm slid out from under Adine’s fingers.
I’m putting the bird here by the window. So watch out for it.
Adine said, Okay, and went back into the den. On the NFLM station was pingpong: the knock of the ball struck back and forth, a third man commentating — she pictured him clutching the table, watching almost greedily. Check out these dooshes, said Adine. Hey, Deb — help me out here. Does the third guy look like, greedy?
Debbie sat down beside her, the cushions split, Adine slipped into the gap, had to dig herself out.
So the protest? said Debbie. A bit of a bust.
I saw on In the Know about the statue. I’ll flip to it, only the UP button works, hold on.
Yeah. That was sort of awesome actually.
Was it you guys?
No. This was important to Pop. He wouldn’t have sabotaged it.
As the channels climbed higher the programming became more inane: a humming couple convinced they’d discovered an overtone that linked the universe, a man hosting a telethon to support his telethon, the Bookland channel where the shop’s mousy proprietor whispered reviews of novels no one would ever, ever read.
So this thing I went to, said Debbie, last night. This thing they’re doing in Whitehall.
What? You went to Whitehall?
Sure. It’s fine, I don’t know what the big deal is. People think —
At night?
Not alone! With Calum, from the Room. I thought maybe I could write about it, but.
About what? What would you write about?
Well this is the thing. They’re doing something out there, those people — I don’t know how to describe it. Like a noise. . show. Sort of.
At channel 0 the set burst into static.
Hey, said Debbie. Don’t change the channel, it’s just like this —
But Adine kept flipping, the screen came alive with music and words, brief lucid flashes until she paused on channel 12, and Isa Lanyess.
Anyway, said Debbie, you need to see it. Or hear it. Or just come. I can’t stop thinking about it. I hated it sort of but I want to go back — maybe tonight.
And you want me to come. Tonight.
Not want. Well sure, want. But more I think it’s right up your alley. And also there’s that potluck earlier in Bebrog? We could go there first, then —
Can’t.
Why?
Tonight’s Raven’s big illustration. I mean, fug if I care, but it’s important to Sam. He’s out there all alone on the I. He hasn’t got anybody else.
A rigid silence fell between them.
It’s important to him, said Adine. He’s my brother.
She let the words hang, knew they boxed Debbie into a corner.
I have to go, Debbie said, standing.
Well thanks for stopping in.
In the kitchen the fridge hummed, from down on the street came a mother’s shout and a shrill reply from her child, and in the subsequent quiet Adine heard a sharp intake of a breath, either the inhalation of unspoken words or a stifled sob.
Fug, Deb! Are you crying now? What are you crying about?
I’m not crying! She paused. Adine? Please take off those glasses.
Adine laughed, turned up the TV. Isa Lanyess was interviewing Loopy about her missing statue: You must be destroyed, said Lanyess, which Loopy confirmed: Destroyed.
Adine? Please, come on. Take them off. It’s enough.
Enough what? Enough me doing my job? I don’t ask you to quit. . helping.
I miss you.
Right. You pop by to drop off a dead animal, then head right back out, now I won’t see you till tomorrow morning. Seems like your heart’s just bleeding to spend time together. Adine felt the current of her words hurtling her forward, she’d no idea what she might say next. Here it was, coldly: Are you sure you need me at all?
A jangle of keys, the deadbolt clopped open. As always, Debbie had locked them in.
That’s it? You’re leaving?
I have to go, Adine. People are waiting for me. I didn’t even have time to make anything, I’m showing up to this potluck without any food —
Stick your new pet in the oven for fifteen minutes, howbout?
The door opened. Into the apartment seeped the faintly fecal odour of some other tenant’s cookery. Adine, sensing Debbie hovering in the doorway, told her, You know what you do? You look for holes in people and you just burrow your way in to fill them up, you’re this little helpful worm. You need to start finding home in yourself, you need — Adine was interrupted by a great commotion coming from the TV. Loopy was livid: Of course I’ll always have the idea, but you can’t show people your ideas! It’s the thing that matters! And no one ever got to see the thing!
You hearing this? Adine said. Unbelievable. Eh? Deb?