- XIX -

* * * * *
         "Would you like me to make you forget?"
         "I . . . what . . . no! No, I wouldn't. Why would I want that?"
         "Because it might help you cope with it more. Because I don't want to see you floundering around helplessly trying to find some purchase in the storm. Because right now you're letting it all break you and I'll do anything to keep you from cracking."
         "You've done enough, I think. More than enough."
         "Hm, well, I'm sure that's how it must seem to you. But that's not the case. Not at all."
         "But how . . . what would be the point of making just me forget what happened, I mean, everyone else would know, right? What would be the point then?"
         "Oh, I'd do the same to everyone else associated with your little get together. It's only fair. I'd just smooth over the unpleasantness, that's all. Nobody would know the difference, really."
         "You can do that? How can you do that?"
         "In years to come you'll find that the number of things I can do is about equal to the number of things I can't do. Fortunately, or unfortunately, both are very large numbers. It's nothing special, there are even some humans who can do it, though not with my skill. But I've had more time to practice."
         "That . . . that's absurd, you can't just . . . play with someone's head like that, it's just . . ."
         "Unpleasant? Alas, it is but sometimes it needs to be done. The problem is knowing when to implement it, in hindsight it seems I should have done it with your crew from that night at the restaurant. Would have made things easier for you, I think. I did offer to the young man I had to stop, actually. But he declined. At the time I had thought I was doing a good thing by letting it go."
         "You . . . you did. It's not, I don't think it's right to just play with memory like that, good or bad, you just have to . . . deal with it. That's all. Just deal with it."
         "Like the spectacular job you're doing now?"
         "Don't get like that, it's . . . this is too soon, my God, it's been barely what, two hours, I don't even know anymore, you can't expect me to . . . process everything just like . . . like that. It's just not possible for me."
         "It is. And you know it. But even so we're still asking a lot from you . . . I had thought that glossing over some events in your memory might make that process easier for you and everyone else. That's all."
         "I can't believe you'd ever ask that . . ."
         "It's not something I consider lightly. Not at all. Memory is the most important thing a person can have, it defines them in a way that no other facet of their being can. Our lives form the basic structure but only memory can create the intricate architecture necessary. I'll be having a similar conversation to this one a few hours from now, as it turns out."
         "What are you talking about?"
         "Echoes. The problem with cause and effect is that you never can be sure which is which. We think we're acting upon impulses learned from the past but sometimes I think the pressure comes from the other end as well."
         "Why do you keep talking like that . . . I don't understand . . ."
         "No, you don't. And neither do I, frankly. This isn't what I planned to talk about and yet here I am, at the whims of forces beyond my control. I'm no different than you in that respect, do you finally see?"
         "I think you're just trying to scare the hell out of me."
         "For what reason?"
         "I . . . don't know. I wish I did. It would make things easier, I know it would."
         "It wouldn't I can assure you. Your friends wonder the same about you and you can't give them an answer any easier than I can give you one. Fear is derived from memory, erasing the memory just buries the fear, buries the cause. Instead of knowing their fear of you, and thus having a chance of conquering it, they'll be afraid without knowing why. Is that what you want? Irrational fears?"
         "I don't want you to do anything to anyone's head, you understand me? Nothing! Let them decide whether to hate me or not on their own, okay?"
         "Hm. Very well. May I ask you a question then?"
         "What now?"
         "If you're so willing to let them draw their own conclusions, why are you trying to make them hate you? Why is every action and every thought of your being bent toward that purpose?"
         "You don't know what you're-"
         "Wait. Before you finish your sentence, before you tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about, think about who you're talking to. What I can do. What I can see. Do you think I would say something like that without being absolutely sure of myself?"
         "I . . . I'm not . . ."
         "You brought the sword tonight. There was no reason at all for you to do so. And yet you did it anyway. The worst reminder of what you are, and you went and paraded it in front of them. As if they didn't have enough to make them afraid of you. You do something like that and then you sit back and wonder why people stare at you with abject fear in their eyes."
         "It just . . . it seemed like the right . . . the right thing to do, I mean, I'm not . . . I can't, pretend to be something I'm not anymore, okay?"
         "In all matters that pertain to your friends, you're still the same person. Don't deceive yourself."
         "I'm not. I can't be. I don't feel the same way."
         "And did you expect to never change inside, are you the same person that you were ten years ago . . . you've seen things that have changed the way you see the world. Changed your perceptions. But you haven't changed. And you know that."
         "Then what am I supposed to do?"
         "Stop blaming yourself. The responsibility was mine that night. I didn't foresee the consequences and people did suffer, despite my best intentions."
         "So what good does that do me, are you supposed to go and apologize to all of them? You made the mess and then left me to pick the pieces up! Is that how it's going to be from now on? Me just sweeping up after you two? Is that it?"
         "I gave you another option."
         "That's no option."
         "It is, but it's the easy way out. Right now, you're taking the hard route, by trying to alter the way they see you."
         "I'm showing them how I really am, what it's really like to be me. What they'll expect from being my friend . . . that . . . that everyone is going to get hurt."
         "If you're waiting for the pain of retribution to balance that of the pain you feel you've inflicted upon them, it's never going to come. Guilt is a festering wound. You do this to yourself because the anger you expect from your friends, the one that you're constantly bracing yourself for, isn't coming. And in its absence you do it to yourself."
         "I don't know what to do anymore . . . God, I wish this night had never happened . . ."
         "All of it?"
         "I . . ."
         "I know. You want to erase the bad and keep the good. Don't be ashamed of it."
         "If I could only erase the bad with the good, then I'd do it in a second. You know I would. If that was the only choice in the world, that's what I'd do."
         "I know you'd do that."
         "Is that wrong . . . to think like that . . . because, I, don't know, really . . . I'm just not sure of anything, but . . . I am sure of that."
         "It's a noble sentiment. Honestly. Which brings me to my original question. Do you want me to fix their memories?"
         "For . . . for everyone?"
         "Even you. If you wanted the bad taken away with the good, I could fix it so that you wouldn't have the guilt of knowing what everyone else doesn't. In a way, everyone would win."
         "Would it . . . hurt? Them, I mean. I don't care about me but . . ."
         "Not at all."
         "I . . . ha, that's funny, it's like, like sitting here and making a deal with the goddamned devil, I . . . no. No. I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be right. I don't have that right. To make that kind of decision. Not for them and not for myself."
         "Is that what you really want?"
         "It's not about what I want . . . it's not. It's about the way it has to be. And I don't have the right. And they may hate me for it, but it doesn't change a thing."
         "And you really believe that?"
         "It's not about belief, it's not . . . it's just the only choice I can make. In the end. It's all I can do."
         "Hm. Good answer."

* * * * *
         When the world starts falling, that's when you start laughing
         because it's damn funny
         because you can't help yourself
         just like the hammers, pounding into your head, a million blacksmiths clanging against a million anvils and it's all in your head
         singing
         the blood and sweat and soot
         oozing out of your head, your pores, a dirty glistening sensation and a grittiness you can never hope to relate to
         and yet you don't care
         and yet you feel great
         time has slipped out of synch, you've stumbled out of step with the world, faces are being replaced by faces and you know everybody because they're all your friends
         someone's turned the ground into sponge
         you're walking along the tightrope, each step bouncing you closer to the edge, and if there's a funnier action in the world you can't possibly think of it right now
         because the wind from below is rushing after you and even the blast of heat feels refreshing, windmilling your arms to keep from diving, spreading the air around, putting on a show
         they're slowed down the world, just for you
         until a scream is a sigh is a scream and then back again into a sigh and all the noise in the world is taking turns to try and get into your brains, everything's leisurely, everyone's taking a number and waiting in line
         lining up around you
         caught in the embrace of the night, a million bodies holding you up, a million voices blending into a slurred dance, they've ground you up into a powder and poured you into a soup and underwater it's all a mouthful of waves
         you watch a hand wave playfully in front of your face and you think it's your hand and it's leaving a trail of baby hands behind it, spitting out litters that dissipate and congeal somewhere else
         and people are laughing with you because they all see the humor in the situation the same as you do
         and everyone likes you
         and everyone likes each other
         like they never had any choice in the matter
         evenwhentheyhityouyoustillthinkitsjustagraze
         and you're standing and you don't remember getting up and you've been standing for a while
         maybe hours
         maybe days
         maybe years
         but your legs don't hurt, nothing on you hurts, your body has never known a day of pain, it's numb and fresh and new all over, every sensation is a pinprick, a dart shot at you from a mile away
         and you try to catch the dart before it hits you and your hands are miles away and might not even be attached anymore and your palms are slammed together like two mountains colliding
         and even that distant tingle is happening to someone else, they're shut you off in your head, found you a comfy playroom with colorful toys to bide your time and shoved your body out into this new world
         to meet people
         because everyone is new to you, even your friends
         and it doesn't matter because everyone is your friend, you were all set down here to meet and laugh and love each other and even if you were given a choice in the matter you'd all make the same choice anyway because it's the most perfect choice in all the world
         faces waver and faces fall, all smiling, and each name is a foreign country
         and someone shuttled yours off to some far away planet
         but names aren't important, you know that, even as someone sets your head on a rocket and spins it into orbit
         the stars are lights and the lights burn into your eyes, it fills your mind and sings, and even as you try to sing along there's no voice for it, nobody can find the voice to shout it
         as the music of the world wrenches to a halt and grinds into gear around you, screeching melodically
         and it jabs at your legs and your arms, pushing you sideways, pushing you up, there are fingers all around chiming in time with the atmosphere
         and your eyes witness the gloom of the stunted vault of the sky, even as the heaviness of the air grabs you, sucking all the breath from you and rearing you up
         falling so far up that you have to come back down and there are always people to halt your descent
         because they're all your friends
         youthinkthatyourelivingyoudon'treallyknow
         and you're so happy that you're almost vomiting happiness, because as long as everyone keeps laughing you know it will all be okay
         okay because someone grabs the world by the horns and yanks it to the right and the left and down again and it's a giddy feeling, trapped on an elevator that can't remember where it's supposed to go, racing through the air down a flight of train tracks, into the tunnel, smothered in darkness for those few endless seconds, immersed in the womb where all sound is a broken signal intermittently penetrating your mind
         and then back out into the bursting light again and up
         and up
         the roller coaster you'd always hope they'd make, the one that renders you nearly unconscious, unable to move even an eyelid, air compressed tightly into your chest, totally at the mercy of the ride and drawing sensation from the helplessly exhilarating bounty of risk
         of danger
         meannothingyoucancountthemastheyfall
         how you're still standing you don't know because someone must have reached into your legs when you weren't looking and ripped the bones out
         but you didn't even feel it, that's so
         they flop along, bending in both directions, right staggers to left and left staggers to right
         it's a beautiful crazy thing it is
         and the floor isn't cooperating, it's going along with the game
         the floor is
         the floor is bled dry of angles, it's all curves and crests, they've unpaved the parking lot soil and put the hills back, sneaking into the night when no one was looking
         and you want to ask who turned the floor into a goddamn obstacle course
         and people are staring at you because you know they want to hear what you're saying
         yet words are fragile things made of spit and string, seeking to gain flight, taking off from your throat and disassembling into fragments
         crashing and burning
         it's all crashing and
         and what you say isn't what you think you're saying it's what you think the
         but people keep laughing
         they're all smiling
         they're all
         they
         and you don't have time to tell them the important message about the floor
         nobody's listening
         but it doesn't matter
         nobody cares, all they want to do is smile
         it doesn't
         creeping people find the hole in the world and slide it under your feet
         waving arms trying to warn
         have to tell people
         someone turns the sky vertical and it's a blissfully vague sensation
         safety
         someone opened a hole in your brain and you're never felt this
         heyyou
         the ground is so far away that you're sure you won't even impact, you'll just run out of gas like in the cartoon and stop right in the empty sky and float there
         if you just
         just float there forever
         and you're waiting for it and expecting it and knowing that you're going to reach that state when they can take everything away from you and it won't matter that you have nothing because you really have everything it's just that they don't know that
         and who is they
         heythereyou
         the world is made up of they
         and everyone in the world is your friend
         and your friends are they
         and they're trying to tear you down
         because that's what friends do
         tie the rocks to your ankles when you're drifting through the yellowed haze of the night and you don't even realize you're falling until they take the haze and
         wind is whistling through your ears, an oddly mournful sound out of place with the giddiness galloping in your heart, it's all twisted out of kilter and you're
         it's filling you, you're expanding, running like shivers along your body, making you laugh as it floods you, flooding your sense, your eyes, your ears, your head, climaxing somewhere in your chest
         and there's nowhere to
         nowhere to go but
         the world whiplashes you and tilts back and then forth again, your eyes seem to be trying to focus on more than one object and it's making you dizzy
         luckyIcaughtyouyourelucky
         a pumping beat surges through you, jostling you all around, there are voices coming at you from all sides, and your feet are nailed to the floor, rotating and spinning from the common point
         people grin and jump out of step with time, the world's become so slow that it's still life, a black and white photograph where all the faces have a familiar grainy sameness
         and you know each and every one
         try to dot the world with color
         but there's no color, someone's taken all your friends and crumpled them up in a leaden ball and thrown it into the ocean, trailing bubbles in its wake, and coming at you in liquid waves is the sound
         spinning in ever widening circles, a tether tied to a ball
         youwouldntlikemeifyoudneverhadadrink
         heybetterwatchitwatchwhatyouredoingeasythere
         you're dancing, gliding like quicksilver, a blur in their minds, they're laughing because they're never seen anyone move so beautifully
         beautiful
         the stars are
         the stars on the ceiling are all dark
         and you've got all the color in the world gathered up in your hands
         bleeding from your smile
         goddamn sprinkler spraying it all over
         like a comet, the orbit has to take you away
         everyone has to go away
         there's a pressure on your arm that isn't unpleasant
         youwouldntlikemeifyoudeverstoppedtothink
         jump on the moving sidewalk they've slipped under your feet when you weren't looking, let it all careen in a fashion, a ferry pulling itself from the jetty
         all your friends are receding, the horizon is taking them down
         down to the ocean
         the ocean of sound
         you've got all the color but they took all the sound
         but they're got the sun and the light, everyday the sun sinks down into the horizon sea and it sizzles, throwing up clouds of mist
         and you can't see
         there's no sea
         to see
         easytheretakeitslow
         your the toe of your foot hits something solid and that's pretty damn funny
         so you turn your head
         and the world revolves with you
         and you can see them
         see them all
         all your friends are caught in a glistening bubble, shimmering under curved light and refracted
         the world recedes again
         you're starting to ascend, there's a brisk lightness in your head, it's just what you'd always thought it would be
         and the bubble is descending, sinking out of sight
         and you want to warn your friends
         but the thought is gone, crumbling like wet tissue paper and torn
         IdrankallofthemedicineupupupandIdidntlikethetaste
         the world regains a comforting solidity that makes you feel heavy, it's trying to hold you down, send you back, the lights are flickering on and off in a disorienting strobe fashion, beating in time with the rhythm time of your pulse
         oneatatimecarefuldontworryIvegotyou
         rising higher you are, and you look down to see the world as it is, you've turned sideways and we're all dancing on a wafer, the people on one side don't know about the people on the other and they laugh and stamp their feet never knowing that if they just stamp hard enough they'll break through and
         and you try to tell them that
         and they stand there and they see you
         see their friend
         and they wave with grinning hands, laughing all the way because you're going up and they just keep falling away, until all you can see is one mass of swaying arms
         touch a hand
         reach out and
         pressure on your arm
         the lights of the world are dimming, you're moving through the wall of light and it's all fading, breaking apart into motes and dots, swirling in spirited games of light, spelling out names of things you've done
         making shapes
         you wonder where the stars went
         why can't you see the
         and your toe rams into a force that won't retreat and all the pain in your body gathers in that one place and thinks about telling you about the pain and where you are
         and they decide against it and scatter, work done for the day
         it's a pleasant numbness, they're rubbed your entire body with steel wool until it's tingling
         and the tingling is a tugging, your mind wants to be everywhere at once, to see it all, that's what you've always to do and now you're so light
         you are light
         that you can if you wanted to
         but the world doesn't want you to leave and it's strung you together with twine, because it's got plans for you, it's got a destination all ready for you
         it's so dark
         rightthiswayyouredoinggoodthatsrightthisway
         pulling and tugging that's the pressure that's become almost a constant, every second renders the world anew, erases the smeared chalk outlines and sketches
         your hand is on the wall, trying to write down the way the world should be
         but you keep making spelling errors on the simplest words and it's making you giggle and if only you had something better to write with other than this
         and thirty seconds ago was someone else's life, stretched grim and glittering, endless pearls on a sagging necklace, and now you're past it
         the past seals its borders and won't let you back in, there's only the present
         and the present
         presents
         someone's draped the world with plastic shadows, they've turned the lights out everywhere and you can't find your feet and you can't see
         can't see the banana peels someone snuck under your feet when you weren't looking, when you were off trying to find the hidden sky
         youreluckythatIcaughtyouwhenIdid
         a steady gentle pressure keeps your head in the sky where it belongs and that's such a good thing because you wouldn't know what to do otherwise
         and the world reels again and takes you with it
         laughing all the way
         because what else can you
         youreprobablywondering
         the world buckles and the lights are spinning in your head, burning holes that are burning
         solid glowing worms snaking their way into the air, breaking free of their containers, finding a new form of abstract geometry in the pulse and dance of textured darkness, seeking poetry in the reflections of your eyes
         it's beautiful
         just like everything you've seen
         wonderinghowyoucanthankme
         it's beautiful
         just like the world
         just like
         a rebellion of direction spins you and there aren't any stars at all, you wish you could find the stars
         rightthiswaythatsright
         and the rectangle that makes up the entrance to the world swallows you
         and you can't see
         easythereeasy
         the pressure is a guide, finding the quickest path to the place that you know you want to be because you're here and
         you have to be here
         because
         because
         there's reason to not be here
         or else you wouldn't
         it's all so distant
         they're blocked out the sound and the sights and the stars
         and the room is cloaked in physical darkness
         you don't have arms
         you don't have legs
         they don't exist in this place that's devoid of senses
         and then you feel pressure
         reassuring
         pushing
         you're sinking into the world and it refuses to pull away, to maintain the polite distance
         justtakeaseatsitrightthereitscomfy
         instead just reaching up and kissing you in the face with a mouth of appealing softness, smothering you as you sink gratefully down into it
         you didn't know that your body
         that your body was
         you didn't know you were so heavy
         and the world isn't there, someone's gone and taken it away
         and you're suddenly cold, pulled from the embrace of a tightly bound
         and someone hid the stars
         your eyes are staring down into softness and the darkness is just a series of infinitely refracting mirrors, showing you the same image only darker and deeper and darker
         until
         thatsgoodnowyoucanjustrelax
         someone has turned off the sound
         and it's so quiet
         and there's fingertips of pressure snarling into your back, finding the nooks and knobs, grinding the fabric of your shirt into the center of your body
         you shift your body involuntarily but someone has stretched you out for miles and you feel so thin and fragile that the sensations you're feeling are happening somewhere out in space
         signals relayed from a station that no longer cares
         because there's nothing to worry about
         it's all just falling free
         falling down into
         fingers sliding under your shirt, skin brushing against skin and they leave trails of fire right down your back, like they're set themselves on fire and you're the water they need to cool down
         skid marks drawn with obscure penmanship, only seen from the air
         your body is quivering and you're not sure why
         thatsitjustrelaxyouredoingjustfine
         tracing the lines in your skin, causing the hairs to stand up and salute the invasion, smashing them down to something curled and diminished
         and your breath is coming faster
         and you're not sure if it's your breathing
         because someone has sucked in all the noise
         leaving only whistling air
         with a gnarled darkness
         letsgetyoumorecomfortableshallwe
         the darkness is eating at your mind, they've gone and injected black holes in your brain
         and the ceiling is burning into your eyes
         you're staring into the sky, bounded by angles and bordered by corners, and it's so far away and blacker than you think it has any right to be
         and something soft is pillowing your head
         thatsbetterisntitnowarentyoubetter
         with streaks that are being traced in flames down your stomach and your mind keeps wandering, your eyes keep staring
         every muscle has gone cold
         except for the pulsing warmth in your center
         spinning around in your mind like a warped record, grinding down only to race forward again, screaming to find some sort of pacing some kind of
         rounding the curves of your stomach
         time is boiling slowly, and you think you'd float away except for
         except
         for
         except for the heaviness that's looming over you, a sunken opacity curling into your vision
         and there's nothing to be afraid of
         and you don't remember how you got here
         and you can't remember who you are
         or the names of the three friends you hold most dear
         which is really a funny thing because
         because you want to laugh like you were small again
         but you can't remember being small
         and there a tense tight sensation curling up your chest
         for some reason you can't stop arching your back, there are velvet needles being driven into each portion of your spine
         nowyoudonthavetodoanythingyoujusthavetolayback
         while the sky seems so far away, dangling above your head like it's been split in two
         prickling pockets dance along the inner rims of your arms, you try to rub them for warmth and your body decides that it's not going to respond
         slow
         why is everything so
         which isn't a problem because you're so heavy, sinking into the ground
         you feel so goddamn heavy
         and something with all the knotted passions of the world is hanging over your body, and there are stinking waves of breath cascading into your face
         justlaybackandrelaxandenjoythatsall
         while a hand marks the time on your stomach, branding your skin, a smooth slick gliding sensation, leaving behind tracks of sweat, glistening and slowly evaporating in this strung out
         there's never enough
         you can't find the
         someone went and plucked out the stars
         and that's funny
         that's so
         IknowyoulikethisyoureenjoyingthisIcan
         you can taste something salty in your mouth even
         as something wet covers you mouth, covers you face
         a hand is tracing the contours around your cheek
         howfarcanwegodoyouwanttoknowhowrelaxedyoucanget
         from somewhere there's a noise like a thousand kittens trapped in a thousand kettles and it's the strangest sound you've ever heard
         even as you can't stop yourself from smiling
         even as a hand tries to caress open your body and lay you bare
         and the noise is coming from you
         thatsitthatsthewayitssupposedtobe
         and the wetness fills your mouth again and all you can see is the
         is the darkness that's
         it's taking the sky and
         blotting out
         there's no sky
         why can't you see the
         a hand is gently increasing the pressure on your thigh
         and someone jams the radio network of your body
         tingling static racing from station to station
         because it's all curled up inside of you
         and you don't know why you can't move
         and you can't bring yourself to care
         and the faintest touch is a spark that shoots straight up into your brain
         with something glittering hovering in front of your eyes
         justlaybackandrelaxyouknowthat
         even as the world spirals down into the center below you
         and your head is spinning
         it hurts
         you want to say that it hurts and all that you can hear is the same small noise that might signify pleasure or it might
         there's a tightness winding its way against you
         and you close your eyes even as the fabric of your mind is drawn tight until it
         thisisohgodohdonteversayyoudidntwant
         and darkness blends into darkness while colors flash like exploding flowers behind your eyes
         and part of you wishes you could feel something
         all dragging down
         all falling
         you can't sink any farther away
         ohyesohyesthisisjustwhatweneeded
         even as the tenseness spasms with a fierceness and a tenderness that your numbed senses can't cope with and you
         and you
         stars running down like blood
         what happened to the
         and you
         ahyes
         can't find the balance rupturing in your head and can't keep the balance
         and falling
         spinning
         there's hair and warmth and sickly sweet slickness empties right into your head
         while it all ceases to have any meaning
         and you go to search for the stars
         down below
         even as your senses try to hold one for last inch, one last moment because that might mean something because there's something you should know
         but you don't care
         and you don't
         so laughing, you let go of the rope digging into your palms and drop into
         as the numbing claws on your body reach a distant slashed crescendo
         and the world breaks open the holes in your head and pours liquid darkness in even while you sit and watch it all drown
         ohohohgodyes
         while the numbness in your body matches step with the blackness all around you
         and it makes you laugh
         even as the wind rushes past your grinning face
         and you can't understand why something sick and dirty seems curled in your stomach and you try to move
         as sensation erupts in a buzzing spark at the base of your brain
         and something stillborn dies in your throat just as
         as you feel
         nothing
         you want to
         you
         feel nothing
         nothing at
         nothing at all-