Vivisepulture (3 page)

“I said, I’ll tell him,”

“That’s my girl.  How’s Matthew?”

“Well, you know.”

There was an edge to her mother’s voice.

“Don’t you neglect him, Kate.  You could have done far worse for a husband.  You were a spoilt lass, you know.  Comes of being the youngest by eight years.  You take him far too much for granted.”

“Don’t nag.”

“Okay Katie.  Now you won’t forget the doctor, will you dear?”

“I won’t, Ma.”

They said goodbye and Katie ended the call and replaced the handset on the counter.  She placed both her hands on her stomach and wondered about calling the doctor.  But the babies felt so still at the moment.  She must be overreacting.  What had the nurse said?  Listen to your body.  Baby knows best.  What was baby saying now?

She stood in the quiet of the kitchen, the knocking of a bluebottle on the widow the only noise.  Listening to what the baby was saying.  Oddly enough, she could imagine what it was saying.  It was saying

Leave it, it will be alright.  Leave it.

It sounded just like Alex,  The baby was speaking in Alex’s voice.  But then again, like they said, Baby knows best.  

Okay. She would leave it.

Later on, taking a bath to ease the pain in her aching back she remembered:  there were two babies.  Didn’t the other baby have anything to say?  Or did the first baby have its hand over the second baby’s mouth, twisting its arm behind its back, hissing in its ear to keep quiet.

Her waters broke in the supermarket.

The manager was very good.  Calm and efficient, there was no hurry.  She was a young woman, younger than Katie, she got her shopping into the office and called Matthew.  Arranged for him to meet Katie at the hospital and then called for a taxi to take her there.

If Katie felt anything it was embarrassment. Embarrassment at the fuss that was being made, embarrassment at the way the manager spread an old towel on the back seat of the taxi and then winked.  She shouldn’t have felt so embarrassed The manager was a middle aged woman who gave the impression of  having seen everything.

“My first one surprised me when I was at the cinema,” she said, her hand on the taxi door.  “You should have seen my Rod’s face as he tried to help me out of the seats.  I kept standing on people’s feet, banging my bump on the people in front.  He didn’t know where to put himself.  I didn’t care.”

She swung the door shut with a final
Good Luck!

Katie was blushing as the car pulled away.

Matthew wasn’t at the hospital to meet her.  That surprised her.  

The doctor examined her and announced everything was okay.  She was experiencing minor contractions.  It could be up to another forty-eight hours yet before the baby was born.

They lay her in a bed and left her there.  The pains came back again.  The pain of the babies fighting each other, but worse now than ever. So bad that the nurses came back and gave her a little something to make her feel easier.

“You don’t want that!” said the girl in the bed opposite. A young woman, eighteen or nineteen, already on her third pregnancy.  She spoke with the voice of experience.  “Not now.  You won’t appreciate the drugs later when the pain really starts!”

Katie didn’t care: the pain was already too bad.  The drug took hold and she lay there feeling dopey and distracted.  Two babies were fighting inside her. They were fighting each other for life.  No, that was silly…

Matthew eventually turned up; he came and sat by her bedside. He seemed strangely distracted. Nonetheless, he’d brought a big bottle of Lucozade and a bag full of glossy magazines.  Cheshire Life, House and Home and Interiors; all the sorts of things that she liked.

Katie was gazing unseeing at one of the magazines.  A kitchen, bleached wood and pale green tiles. Stainless steel fittings.  It had seemed so important a few weeks ago but now it seemed strangely empty.  She felt something moving inside her and she felt frightened.  Something was missing from her life.  She thought that she knew what it was…

“Hah, look at this,” said Matthew, and there was that edge to his voice again.  Matthew had been so distant these past few days.  She had barely noticed it in her excitement and fear.  

“Matthew, I’m frightened…”

He ignored her and carried on speaking.

“They’ve done a feature on Monagan Hall.  I tell you what; Alex is going to be insufferable when he finds out about this.  He’ll go out of his way not to mention it.  He’ll be so affectedly dismissive and embarrassed by the whole thing.”

He flapped the heavy magazine across to Katie.  Not knowing what else to do, she picked it up and looked at the double page spread, the glossy smell rising around her as she looked at the picture of the grey stone building.  A couple in tennis whites strode across the yellow gravel of the drive.

“Matthew, I’ve got something to tell you…”

Matthew gave a little laugh.

“Hah.  You know, it used to be one man and his family who lived there.  Four or five people in that great building with hundreds of staff to serve their every need.  Now the world is a lot bigger and instead of five parasites living there, there are fifty.  The building seems to attract them like bees to a hive.  They look at the world and take what they want and stamp over everything else and remake it their own image.  Everything they touch they sully and turn into cheap copies of themselves.”

He was staring at her now, staring at her significantly.  He was trying to tell her something, but why wasn’t he listening to her, doped up and doing her best to concentrate?

Her voice was a whisper.

“Matthew.  It’s the babies.  One of them is trying to kill the other one…”

Did she speak that or imagine it? Matthew didn’t seem to have heard her.  He lowered his voice and spoke slowly and deliberately.  

“You’ve been sleeping with Alex, haven’t you?” He sounded so sad.  “It’s all round the office.  You were seen leaving Monagan Hall.  I confronted him.  You know, he didn’t even bother denying it.  He just stood there grinning at me…”

His voice was cold, yet his eyes blinked rapidly.  Katie felt a rush of shame.

Yes Matthew, Oh I’m sorry but I couldn’t help it, he just looks at you and it’s like that’s the way is the world is going to be.  You’re right.  He just alters the world to suit himself.  He’s put his child inside me.  Don’t ask me how, but he did it.  I was already pregnant with your child when I first slept with him, but he did it anyway, because that’s what he wanted and he always gets what he wants.  He’s reproduced, put his offspring into the world without it affecting his and Helen’s lifestyle.  Their trekking in India and their twin Mercedes.  They’ll just go on doing that while I have their baby for them, and you know, Matthew, its just pushing yours aside…

But he couldn’t hear her.  Was she speaking or hallucinating?  Matthew just went on speaking in that cold voice…

“… Like he didn’t give a damn about being find out.  Like he’d had his fun and it just didn’t matter.  Oh Katie!  How could you?”

His face was a mixture of anger and despair.  A tear formed at the corner of one eye.

Oh Matthew, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you must listen, his child its… I read a magazine article once, baby sharks, they eat each other in the womb, wipe out their competitors…

He absently brushed the tear from the corner of his eye.

“I’ll stay here for the birth of my child Katie.  I’ll do that.”  He suddenly crumpled, and his face was a picture of pure misery.

“No.  Fuck that, I’ll stay here for you Katie.  I can’t do anything else…”

He looked away, his eyes filled with tears.  He didn’t see Katie reach out to take his hand. She needed to hold him, needed his support.

What was it?  She was doped up on the moment, too far gone to concentrate any more…

Her hand rubbed her stomach. Matthew’s child was in there fighting for its life.  She knew it was fighting in vain.

She felt the lazy throb of a contraction.  They were increasing in intensity.  

Not long now until the baby was born.

BUKOWSKI ON MARS, WITH BEER

by

ERIC BROWN

"Wake up, Buk!"

I opened my eyes. A guy in a silver suit and goggles was standing by the bed.

I said, "Hey, man, it ain't Buk as in fuck. It's Buke as in puke, okay?"

The man smiled and it reminded me of my father's smile.

I sat up. "Where am I?"

That last I remembered I was in a bar someplace in downtown LA. I remembered being thrown into the street and passing out. I felt fine now, not even a hangover.

"Where's Jane?"

"Buk," he said, getting it right this time. "Lie down. Listen to me. You're a long way from home."

"I am, huh? Get me a beer, okay?"

He reached out behind me and came back with a bottle of beer. I didn't recognize the brand but I wasn't complaining. I chugged it down. It was good and cold and I felt better for it.

I looked around. I was in a circular room with a good view over red sand. "Listen, buddy, why not tell me what the fuck's going on?"

The man removed his goggles and his eyes were silver. "You're on Mars, Buk," he said.

"You're taking it well, Buk."

I took it well when my father strapped me every day for years, I took it well when big fuckers tried to beat me up in bars in LA and New Orleans and Atlanta and Pittsburgh and New York. The trick was not to show what you're feeling inside. The trick was to freeze.

The guy in the funny suit said I was on Mars. I froze.

"So tell me," I said, "just how come I ended up on Mars? And get me another beer."

He got it.

I chugged it down.

He said, "We brought you back."

"I was dead?"

"Yes."

"And you brought me back? So you can bring Jane back too?"

"No, Buk. No, I'm sorry. We can’t."

I took another swallow of beer.

"So why me?"

"Because you're one of the greats, Buk. We've brought back the greats."

He watched me. I said nothing.

Hear that, you fuckers? Hear that, Pa, all you bastards who said I was shit, hear that, all you phonies in all the cities who took one look and said no?

"One of the greats?" I said. "When did I die?"

He said, "March, 1994."

"Jee-sus fucking Christ..."

The guy gave me a funny look. "You don't remember?"

I shook my head. "Last I recall, it's '73..."

"You lived another twenty years, Buk. You became famous. Your books sold millions, you were big in France, Germany."

"So why can't I remember any of that?"

"It sometimes happens. Retrieval can result in memory loss, often it’s only short term. Your memories will return."

I saluted him with the bottle. I had that to look forward to: remembering my successful future.

I laughed. One of the greats?

And I was on Mars.

I swung myself off the bed. "I need to take a dump. Where's the john?"

He was still there when I got  back. "Who else?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who else you brought back? The greats."

"Artists. Composers. Other writers."
"Writers like who? Celine?" 

He shook his head. "No, not Celine."

"Hamsun?"

"Knut Hamsun? Yes, all the Nobel prize winners."

"How'd he take it, being brought back?"

The guy nodded. "He's fine. He's writing. He has a little place on the slopes of Olympus Mons."
"Lawrence?"

"D.H. or T.E?"
"D.H.."

"Yes. He took it badly at first, but he adjusted. He's travelling – crossing the Mare Acidalium, the last we heard."

"And Doe – Doe–"

"Dostoevsky?"

"That's the guy."

"We made the retrieval, but..." The guy shrugged.

"What happened?"

"He went mad. It sometimes – very infrequently – happens."

"Mailer?"

"Yes. He's fine. Doing the celebrity circuit."

I thought some. "How about Hemingway?"

"Yes. He's living nearby, as are most of the other retrievals. You'll meet them all, eventually."
"Fuck that. I didn't want to meet other writers when I was alive, and I sure don't want to meet the fuckers now."

"That's fine, but I think you'll change your mind, in time. It's somewhat therapeutic, let's say, to meet others of your kind."
I took a long swallow of cold beer.

"But you didn't bring Jane back?"

"I'm sorry."
"But you could? I mean, you have the... the ability to do it, yeah?"

He would not meet my gaze. "We only brought back the greats–"

"Listen, buddy, Jane
was
great."

"I'm sure she was, Buk, but–"

Something tore open inside me, something big and cold and gray.

He said, "You must be hungry. I'll get you some food. Then you can sleep a while, rest. In the morning I'll show you around. Now, food. What would you like?"

I was hungry. I said, "Hamburger and fries. You got those? And some wine? You have wine on Mars?"

"We have the finest vineyards in the solar system growing on the slopes of Elysium Mons"

"Riesling, sweet and cold?"

"I'll see what I can do."

The guy left the room through a sliding door.

I drank my beer.

In the morning I woke up and went to the john and puked and I felt better after that. I got a beer from the cold chest behind the bed and chugged it down, and then the guy in the silver suit came and said he'd show me around. I said okay, but would there be beer? He said there'd be plenty of beer.

We left the room and walked into warm sunlight, down a path in a concrete complex with silver domes in the red sand. I was wearing old chinos and an old shirt, just like old times.

The guy didn't offer his name and I didn't ask.

We came to an open buggy with big wheels like beach balls and the guy said climb in. I got in the passenger seat and the guy indicated the back seat, a cooler there. I got myself a beer and drank and we set off.

We drove out of the complex of domes and into the red desert. The guy told me a whole bunch of stuff about the terraforming of Mars. Most of it I didn't understand, and I wasn't interested enough to ask. The bottom line was that mankind had spread from Earth and was living on Mars and some of the moons of  Saturn and Jupiter, spread like a disease.