subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_18

Chapter 18


I found myself being ripped into a strange world of consciousness. I struggled out of the hellish terror of my unconscious to be greeted with pain. The dream realm of horror slowly vanished to make way for the concrete world of torture.

There was enough pounding and screeching in my head that I could not see. Piercing jets of acid bored into my eyes when I opened them. I had woken to a poisonous atmosphere. I reasoned that I had not woken up in the legendary hell, I was too aware, I was most likely still alive. How could I prove such an obvious problem. There was no easy formula. Maybe it was only a theory. Or a delusion.

No.

I massaged life into my skull until I could open my eyes. Beyond the naked lights, I could see only darkness. It must have been night. I sat up and slowly slid up the wall to a standing position to examine my body. It seemed to be intact with pain being mostly in my head. I did not know what to do. I discovered fourteen dollars in my pocket. That was a start.

After urinating, I left my hiding place. After stumbling over an old drunk, I made my way to the street. I remembered how to walk and was soon striding along the sidewalk with confidence.

When a small crowd of young Chinese people passed me without looking at me, I suddenly remembered that I was the runaway mutant. I could not be seen on the street. I was part of the poisonous virus that the myopic soothsayers declared must be brought under control. I could see the whole picture. They, whoever they were, were out to get me.

Concrete paranoia.

A chill went up my spine as the cold wind filled my eyes with dust. It was a constant struggle for me, plagued by a schizoid debate within my mind, to keep from falling into oblivion. I wanted to break out of the confinement of time and space. I was determined to break out of my skin and get through to the other side.

I was thirsty as well as anxious to get off the street, so I entered the next door that looked like it was a drinking establishment. It appeared like another realm of hellishness. The air was choked out by smoke that hung luminously like a phantom with a gaping, sinister smile. I felt the comfort of uncertainty and the calm of not caring radiating from the life forms milling about like lazy lizards. Although they seemed unaccustomed with living and disassociated from their nature, the bar creatures seemed complacent.

"Yes?"

"What?"

"Yes, what?"

I looked at a large man. He was confronting me. The only thing between us was a counter, or a bar. I remembered quickly that I must have walked into a bar because there I was talking to someone that was obviously a bartender.

I pointed to the beer that was in the hand of the person who was beside me leaning against the bar. The bartender reached into his cooler, pulled out a bottle, opened it and placed it in front of me.

"Two seventy-five."

I looked at him wondering what time it was. Was I expected to reply?

"I’ll get it," said the fellow whose beer I had pointed to. He handed the bartender three dollars and change.

"Thanks," the bartender said.

"Thanks," I said.

"No worries," he said. "It looks like you could use a beer."

"To numb my senses."

"Were you in a fight?"

"Not that I remember. I think I was in an accident or something. I banged my head. I like your dress."

"Thanks. I’ve got to piss."

"Be careful."

"I’ll talk to you later," he said.

I had to find a place to sit down. My head spun in the opposite direction of my body as I walked through the smoke. It was difficult but eventually I found an empty chair.

"Is anyone sitting here?" I asked.

"Doesn’t look like it," he answered.

"You can never tell these days."

"Don’t waste your time on me, faggot."

"You are not my type."

"You can never tell these days," he mimicked.

He continued talking but I could not follow him. I said nothing and sipped on my beer. I hoped to mask the pain. The hairy homophobic offered me a cigarette. Although I did not smoke, I took it. He offered a lit match so I inhaled like I knew what I was doing. In my head, I saw the smirking face of an old man that I had known long ago. He was smoking. The smoke made my head spin. I was not sure if I was enjoying it or it I felt sick. I smoked until there was no tobacco left in the cigarette. It was something to keep me busy for a few minutes while I did not do anything.

"The gay bar across the street is under renovation so they all come over here now. I don’t like them. But the owner doesn’t care; he’ll sell his beer to anyone. The homos want to take over the world y’ know?"

"That would be something. What time is it?"

"I don’t know or care."

"What day is it?"

"Thursday."

"Get your hair cut, you hippie," a drunk demanded. "This isn’t the sixties."

No verbal rebuttal. Just a punch to the drunk man’s head.

"I don’t like doing that, but I can’t stand people who think they are your superiors because they are liberal about their anal compulsive tendencies. Ass fucking doesn’t make you more in touch."

"Likely not. Some people just make a religion out of what they believe.
They feel more secure if they can enlighten the unsaved."

I was not certain if I was talking about the same thing but I could not focus enough to get involved.

"Fuck them."

The drunk raised himself up off of the dirty floor, and tried to console his assailant.

"Don’t be so uptight, Honey," he said and took hold of the hairy man’s arm.

Once again, kinetic energy in the form of aggression.

I was surprised that the blow did not take the victim’s head off. After delivering the punch, my table friend threw his glass of beer on the stunned and bleeding man. His pint up hostility had come out in one big blast.

A few of the victim’s friends arrived to argue with the angry man, but there was to be no reasoning. Either they got out of his face or they would receive the same. They helped their friend away.

"I hate arrogant faggots."

"I have noticed some hostility."

"If they kept their fuckin’ sexual habits to themselves, maybe I wouldn’t
get so annoyed."

A waitress brought over a beer ad gave it to me.

"Did I ask for this?"

"It’s already paid for," she answered.

"Is it from the man with the dress on?"

"No. From a real girl," she said and left.

"Don’t you have all the luck?" my table friend said. "I get accosted by arrogant make believe girls and you get presents form real chicks."

"Must be my lucky day."

"Well, have another smoke and see if you don’t get cancer," he said and handed me a cigarette.

I looked back over at the bar and wondered if I might know the girl who was watching me. She slowly walked over to our table, like an evil goddess in a dream. I was frightened until she smiled.

"Thank you for the beer."

"You’re welcome. Never expected to find you here," she said.

"Me either."

I looked at her knowing that she must have thought she knew me. I did not know that many people.

"Kathy, shit, I did not recognise you. I am sorry. I had a rough night."

"I can tell. Let me take you home."

"Okay."

I bid farewell to my table friend and told him to drink my beer.

I hugged Kathy when we stepped outside. It felt like I was a skeleton clinging onto life. A barnacle or a leach. It would have been better for Kathy if I crawled under a rock and died. I knew I was the mutant that had to be squeezed out like a pimple on prom night.

"I should not be on the street."

"You’re not Bill."

"I am a virus in the system. They want to destroy me."

"My friend and I share an apartment not far form here. She won’t mind you staying if you take a bath."

"Do I smell that bad."

"You’ve looked and smelled better."

At Kathy’s apartment I wasted no time getting into the shower. The hot water drilled into my skin, cleaning the dirt out of my congested pores. The pain in my head sent me back in my mind to the time I emerged from the river. I almost remembered it clearly, but I could not hold any thought for more than a moment and was soon thinking of something more abstract. Isolation and vulnerability enveloped my soul and I could see little chance of shaking my feeling of aloneness.

When I thought I would fold backwards into myself and be swallowed into a void, Kathy stepped into the shower with me to bring me back to the time and space I was supposed to be in. Her touch was gentle but effective therapy.

When we finally vanquished our barriers, we thrashed out of the hot water storm and dried our skins. I felt, to make the adventure complete, we should have dried ourselves in the sun as we lied motionless like exhausted sea lions on a hot rock. But we had to use towels.

Kathy made us some rose-hip tea. At the kitchen table, we sat talking about recent history and our involvement in it. It amazed me to find myself sitting at a kitchen table with Kathy after so many days and events had spilled by our lives. When we were not connected by speech, I raced around in my brain. I could not decide what to think. I could see possible ways of deducting explanations, but never did a conclusion seem whole. I could not accept any answers.

Kathy’s roommate barged in through the door.

"Hi, Kat. Who’s you friend?"

"Bill, I think."

"You’ve been in the shower but you don’t know his name?"

"No. He’s Bill for now."

"Hi, Bill for now. I’m Sally, I guess."

"Hi."

"Oh! You’re the Bill from out west aren’t you?" Sally asked.

"I suppose I am."

"I’ve heard a bit about you already."

Sally through off her clothes into a pile on her futon before prancing into the shower. I was a bit surprised to see her strip in front of me but when I looked around, I noticed that there were no partitions in the apartment. It was just one long narrow space with a small kitchen area with a shower stall in it. The toilet and bathroom sink were enclosed in there own room.

"Nice build, eh?" Kathy asked.

"Was I staring at her?"

"Don’t worry about it. She likes to be admired."

"Can we go to bed now?"

"Okay."

I was exhausted but there was too much commotion in my head to slip into sleep. Although I held Kathy close to me, I felt isolated. Separated from the way things were. I could not see a future with me in it. It seemed I would have to die soon. I had come to the wrong place. I was in the wrong time. Nothing was right. My fears were sure to cripple me.

I had visions of being a scapegoat. They would sacrifice the mutant for a chance to destroy the terror of uncertainty that was always lurking in the unknown ready to swallow anyone that did not hold tight to something.



I sat up in the early morning to capture the warmth of the sun rays that were just appearing through the crusty film of the dirty window. It created a strange haze in the room. "Brian?" I whispered. I thought I could remember seeing him being swallowed by the river. Through my restless night, I remembered most of what happened to me before I found myself in the new world. The events that I went through to end up being what I was and where I was were extraordinary and fantastical. It did not make sense that the events I remembered were part of me. I did not want to be responsible for being a product of what my life had made me.

"Who’s Brian?" Kathy asked.

"Did I wake you?"

"Don’t worry about it."

She pulled on my shoulder, making me lie back into her embrace.

"Who’s Brian?"

"Does that dog bark all the time?"

"What dog?"

"What do they burn at the hospital there?"

"I have no idea."

"I hope mine are wrong."

Kathy kissed me. Her kiss aroused the reptile resting within me. As the beast took control, I surrendered to the pleasures of primal union. I watched the expression of pleasure in Kathy’s various facial contortions. I was guided farther into oblivion with her sighs and groans. Her convulsive contractions made me nearly delirious with feeling of gladness. But the reptile was not determined enough to hold out against the strangeness that was regaining a strong hold and filling my dilapidated fortress with the poison of sadness.

I wanted to cry but forced myself not to. I did not want Kathy exposed to my exposure.

We lied motionless, wrapped in each other, until Sally’s moving around in the kitchen area brought us to the morning.

"You kids want some breakfast?" Shelly bellowed.

"Yes," Kathy answered.

"Sally has been thinking of having a baby. She doesn’t want to live with a man though. She wants to collect single mother’s welfare until she can go back to working."

"Does she want a mutant baby?"

"I would imagine it would depend on the mutation."

"When ever a species wants to survive in a changing environment, it must mutate. When it mutates a new survival quality, it will find a place in the new environmental condition. At least that is how I learned it."

"And what makes you a mutant?"

"Gene manipulation and related things. I am not too informed about it. We were not supposed to know so much about our differences. I know that they wanted to improve the DNA so there were less flaws. Less illness and disease. I think they tried to teach us how to think as well. I do not know how much that can be dictated with DNA manipulation. I suppose they wanted to encourage our cells to evolve a little faster and in a particular direction. Evolution by design rather than chance."

"Why?"

"Why did they do it?"

"Yes."

I guess they figured it was unlikely that chance was going to be good enough to take man into the rapidly changing future. Humans are a little behind in a few areas. And they are not so mentally fit."

"How do you mean? What’s wrong with us?"

"Besides many physical illnesses inherent in most lines, I am not sure. But as for the grey matter that is struggling to stay in the childlike dream state, I do not know what gene manipulation can do."

"Do you think you are that different. Are you a freak?"

"No. I am less susceptible to diseases and I have none inherent but as for my brain, I think because of my studies, I think and believe differently."

"And why do we need to develop in any direction? Why aren’t we good enough the way we are?"

"There is something very dangerous about us the way we are. We are still a fearful bunch of mutant killers. We have been killing each other since before we started to be somewhat conscious. We still live in a dream. We have not the courage to wake up or grow up. When we where killing each other with swords and guns, it was not such a big problem. But now that we are so much more technologically dangerous, we have to stop acting like children."

"I’ve never thought about that like that before."

"Most people do not think about much of anything at all."

"There isn’t much call for thinking."

"No. It is much easier to do what you are told and follow the norm. You will not get into trouble that way."

"It’s hard enough when you are normal."

"Yes. And it is all right to be normal. As long as normal is not something too grim."

"As you think it is."

"I do not know everything."

"That’s good to hear."

"How do you pay for this apartment? Do you have a job already?"

"No. I secretly borrowed a sum of money from Dad’s church."

"Thank God for church donations."

"Sally’s a waitress at the bar I found you in."

"Thank God for atheists."

"I go there sometimes to visit Sally. She has old guys buy me a beer."

"That is friendly."

"Where have you been staying since you got here, with Suzanne?"

"No, actually I just saw Suzanne for the first time, ah, it must have been two nights ago, or maybe last night. I am not sure exactly. No. It could not have been last night."

"What happened?"

"I was coming home from seeing Suzanne."

"Home?"

"Lee’s and Danny’s apartment, not far from here. They took me in the first night I was here. I have no idea why, but I was glad they did. Actually, she did. Danny is her roommate. Funny woman."

"Oh."

"I would still be there now but the mutant patrol was waiting to exterminate me when I went home the other night. Luckily, Danny gave me a warning cry before I opened the door. I do not know how they found me but I barely got out of their without getting killed."

"Getting angry at the bank clerk when you were without ID helped."

"How did you know that?"

"It was on the news. When they discovered the lab asylum, everybody was eager to help track down the dangerous mutants. The bank teller became a temporary star."

"Media stars burn out fast."

"So where did you put your money?"

"I have fourteen with me. The rest is in an account Lee opened for me.
She got me one of those magic cards."

"What about Brian?"

"Brian?"

"You said his name this morning as if he fell off the train."

"It was a raft. It was not until this morning that I remembered most of the details of our adventurous escape from the monastery of biological manipulation. Brian and I were separated when our raft smashed into a rock. I hope he is still alive, but I do not know."

"If he listens to the news, he might come to Toronto to look for you."

"There are many of us. He has no way to know I am here. And if he did, how would he ever find me in a city this size."

"I suppose."

"Did I mention how beautiful you are, and how much I missed you?"

"I don’t think so. Even if you did, I don’t mind hearing it again."

"And that I love you."

"You can tell me that often as well."



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. chapter_19



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