The Very Best of Tad Williams (41 page)

Read The Very Best of Tad Williams Online

Authors: Tad Williams

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Collections & Anthologies

TOPHER

(imperturbable)

I saw it. I can see your old lady right now. She and Kimmy’re having an argument because she wants to go home and Kimmy doesn’t. Kimmy’s kind of digging the high.

YOUNG ERIC

What are you talking about? You can’t see them from here.

TOPHER

I can see everything, man. I can see my fucking dad watching television in the living room at our house, drinking a fucking beer and squeezing his dick. Everything. I can see the, like, radio waves between the stars—they look like black rainbows.

(he stands and lets his head fall back)

You don’t know what I can do. I can see the worms in the ground under your feet, these little silver strings crisscrossing...

(lets his head loll forward until he’s looking at ERIC; grins)

I can even see inside your head, Pierson. You’ve been thinking all night about some little blonde chick you met at Bader’s party who said she was going to UCLA in the fall—thinking about how she slipped you some tongue when you went out with her to get smokes...

TOPHER’s laugh is a cackle. ERIC takes a stumbling step backward. TOPHER opens his eyes wider—the pupils are so dilated that there are no irises, only BLACK HOLES in the middle of the white.

TOPHER

Don’t run away, Erky. It’s all starting to happen now—I can feel it. I’m getting so big that I’m not going to need my body soon. I’ll be flying, man, flying...

TOPHER actually begins to FLOAT up from the ground until he is hovering at least a foot in the air, head thrown back, laughing. ERIC turns and runs, as we

CUT TO:

EXT.—PIERSON HOUSE, 1976—MINUTES LATER

YOUNG ERIC stands on the front porch, gasping for breath: he’s run all the way. He braces his hands on his knees. David Bowie is still playing inside.

YOUNG ERIC

(to himself; a terrified mantra)

Too high. Just peaking, that’s all. Cool out, man. Cool out.

Shakily, he stands and opens the door—the music comes rolling out.

YOUNG BRENT is crouched beside the stereo system, records all over the floor, feverishly looking for something.

YOUNG ERIC

Where’s Janice?

BRENT shakes his head; he’s too busy.

YOUNG BRENT

Gotta change the music—too many edges. You got some Floyd, don’t you? Reverse the flow, you know what I mean?
Dark Side of the Moon
? No, no, too much electricity. The new one, the new one, the new one.
Wish You Were Here
, yeah, that’d close up the holes.

(he looks up at ERIC, eyes wild, face flushed)

Where’s your Floyd, Pierson? You have
Wish You Were Here
, don’t you? Don’t you?

YOUNG ERIC

Take it easy, dude.

YOUNG BRENT

There’s fucking electricity, man! It’s leaking all over the place! I gotta put something on...!

YOUNG ERIC

Uh...I think I’ve got some Crosby, Stills, and Nash...

YOUNG BRENT

Perfect!

(he returns to pawing frantically through the records, not really looking at any of them)

Crosby, Nash, Stills, still crazy, Crazy Horse, Young, young gifted and black, Black Mariah, Blackmore, Richie Blackmore, Black Oak, blackout, Black Sabbath...

(he pauses for a moment, startled)

No. No!

(returns to his pawing and gibberish)

Nash, Stills, steel, steal your face, Steely Dan, Steeleye Span, Stealer’s Wheel, wheels, wild, child, chill, still, Stills, Nash, Crosby, Nash...

ERIC is looking for JANICE. The living room is a mess. So is the kitchen, even worse. Someone has started to make a pot of Spaghetti-Os on the stove, but stopped partway through, leaving tomato sauce splashed on the counter. Someone has finger-painted a crude EYE on the counter with the tomato sauce—the eye with sun’s rays we’ve seen on BRENT’s doorstep—and a few ants are crawling around it.

As ERIC reaches the stairs leading upstairs, BRENT has put on a “mellower” record—King Crimson’s
Court of the Crimson King.
ERIC hesitates, then moves up into the shadowed staircase. As he reaches the landing, he pauses.

YOUNG ERIC

Janice?

He looks up and down the hall, then moves toward the only closed door— for a moment the hallway STRETCHES, so that it seems a VERY LONG WAY. He takes another step and his hand closes on the doorknob and the door swings open.

It’s his grandparent’s BEDROOM—fussy, tidy. The only light is from a small bedside lamp with a heavy shade, so the room is shadowy. A FIGURE is seated on the bed, back to him, very still. ERIC, clearly nervous, begins to walk around. It’s KIMMY, head down as though she’s
asleep sitting up, her hair covering her face. As ERIC nervously reaches his hand toward her, she lifts her face, eyes wide.

KIMMY

Eric! I thought you were Janice.

(she smiles)

Not Janice-Janice, of course, but this Janice.

YOUNG ERIC

Where is she?

KIMMY

I don’t know. She’s mad at me because I want to stay. Maybe she went home. If she has a home here, I mean—do you think everyone has one here, just like in real life?

ERIC shakes his head in confusion and sits beside her.

YOUNG ERIC

This is such a weird night...

KIMMY

I think it’s nice you’re in my dream.

YOUNG ERIC

Huh?

KIMMY

Because I thought about it happening like this, and then it happened, so that’s how I know I’m dreaming.

YOUNG ERIC

You’re not dreaming, Kimmy. You’re just tripping.

KIMMY

Maybe you dreamed it, too. Maybe you just went to sleep, and now you’re dreaming the same dream as me. That’s okay. It means no one can get in except us.

YOUNG ERIC

Like ghosts...

KIMMY

Yes. Like we’re ghosts, maybe. I never knew that there were so many places outside the world, Eric. I never thought there was any place I could really talk to you.

She turns to him, very intent.

KIMMY
(cont.)

I could never say this to you in real life, but since this is a dream it doesn’t matter—I’m just talking to myself. I’ve been in love with you since ninth grade, Eric. Since we were in that Social Studies class together and did that project. When Janice started to go out with you, it hurt so much...

(smiling but teary-eyed)

And I just thought, I can never say it, she’s my best friend. But now you and I are dreaming the same dream.

ERIC, overwhelmed, just stares.

KIMMY
(cont.)

You’ll never know how much I wished this could happen for real. I used to imagine that we met at a party, and that you didn’t know Janice, and that we...

(she turns her head away; when she turns back, her expression is almost feverish)

Sometimes I think about that at night, when I’m in bed, and I...I touch myself.

YOUNG ERIC

Jesus, Kimmy, I...

She leans over and puts her finger against his lips.

KIMMY

Ssshhh. I know—it doesn’t matter. I never understood that before, but I do now. Because there are places like this where we can be together— where we were always together.

(she giggles)

I wonder if I’m asleep now? Lying on the floor, and you guys are trying to wake me up...

KIMMY takes off her glasses.

KIMMY
(cont.)

I want to learn everything, do everything. I probably won’t even remember this when I stop dreaming, but...

She suddenly leans forward and kisses him. ERIC, still stunned, almost pulls back, but the intensity of her kiss is compelling and he is drawn into it. After a moment they roll over onto the bed. A couple of times ERIC starts to draw away, more from overload than moral resistance, but KIMMY is uninhibitedly PASSIONATE—kissing and even licking his face and neck, climbing onto him, slithering her body over his with abandon. The kissing grows more intense; both of them have their hands in each other’s shirts and pants—ERIC has begun pulling KIMMY’s pants down over her hips when he suddenly hears JANICE’s voice loud in the hall just outside the door.

YOUNG JANICE

No, I don’t know where the Led Zeppelin is, Brent. You’ve got the records all over the place, how am I supposed to know?

Startled, ERIC slides away from KIMMY and onto the floor with a painful thump, almost tipping over the lamp table. He begins zipping himself up. KIMMY shows no such guilt, still deep in her “dream.”

KIMMY

Eric...? What are you doing?

ERIC hurriedly finishes, then gets his hand on the door just as JANICE starts to open it. For a moment they stand face-to-face.

YOUNG JANICE

What...?

YOUNG ERIC

(blustering)

Where have you been?

YOUNG JANICE

What do you mean, where have I been? You’re really sweating again.

YOUNG ERIC

I’m high, Janice. I’m tripping. But I was...I was worried about you.

(he begins to move toward the stairs, leading her away from the bedroom.)

Topher’s acting crazy. Completely crazy. It’s fucking with my mind. Do you think he really took all those pills?

YOUNG JANICE

I don’t want to think about him. Maybe I should just go home—I don’t feel very good. Besides, my mom didn’t answer the phone, so I couldn’t tell her I was staying at Kimmy’s. She’ll be pissed if she comes back and I’m not there.

YOUNG ERIC

What are you talking about? You already called her. Jesus, Janice, you call her again and she’ll know you’re high.

YOUNG JANICE

I called her already? Really?

(looks distraught)

Is that ’cause I’m tripping? I don’t like this stuff, Eric. I want to come down.

ERIC puts an arm around her, leads her back downstairs.

YOUNG ERIC

I think there’s some of that sinsemilla left. We should have a couple of hits, mellow us out...

As they reach the bottom of the stairs, BRENT suddenly lurches into view, holding a monstrous pile of records; some are slipping out of their jackets onto the floor, but he doesn’t even notice.

YOUNG BRENT

figured it out. It’s okay. It’s all handled.

YOUNG JANICE

What are you talking about?

YOUNG BRENT

See, I was thinking, “Stairway to Heaven,” but that's so obvious, but Jimmy Page used to play in the Yardbirds, just like Clapton and Clapton was in Blind Faith. And "Yardbird" means "prisoner," see?

YOUNG ERIC

You need to calm down, man.

YOUNG BRENT

No, no, you’re not thinking. You remember tthat Blind Faith song, “Sea of Joy”? Get how it connects? Because “Sea” is not only “Sea” like “ocean,” but it’s “C” like “Clapton” and also “Crimson,” right?
Court of the Crimson King
, and that’s the devil, right, the devil’s court—and that’s hell. So how do you get out of hell, that’s the Stairway to Heaven. Blind Faith. So it’s also “C” like “see”—seeing. With your eyes. You have to just...close your eyes, and you’ll get out. We’ll all get out, someday, even...even if it takes a thousand years.

(a long pause; BRENT looks haunted)

Don’t you get it?

Before ERIC or JANICE can answer, the FRONT DOOR swings open. TOPHER stands framed in it, feet wide apart, head down, face obscured by dangling hair. When he looks up, we see that his face is streaked with dirt and scratches and his eyes are wild and lost.

TOPHER

It’s...getting too big...

He staggers forward, raising his hand to his friends. He looks so deranged that ERIC, JANICE, and BRENT all step back from him.

TOPHER
(cont.)

(a moment of focus; a cracked smile
)

Hey, Erky, check it out.

He sings the old Oscar Meyer hot dog jingle, ending with the bit about everyone being in love with him. He suddenly stumbles and falls to his knees in front of them, head back, this time the eyes rolled up until only the whites show.

TOPHER
(cont.)

(almost whispering)

Help me...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.—PIERSON HOUSE, NOW—NIGHT

ADULT ERIC stands by himself on the front porch of the house. He looks around. There’s no one in sight, no lights but the strong glow of a full moon. The house itself is dark, too, and everything is dead silent. ERIC takes a breath, opens the front door, and steps through. He is tensed, but moonlight streaming through the windows shows the house is stripped, EMPTY.

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