Tony Burgess - The n-Body Problem

“Oh, we do, ma’am.”

More eating sounds. Someone farts and excuses themselves. More eating. I’m beginning to think these kids are a little too polite. A little too wonderful. I bet they want this place and they don’t want to share it.

“I’m afraid the back rooms are dangerous cold. We sleep in here. All huddled like penguins.”

I hear dishes moving. Wonder what they’ll do with those. Tildy doesn’t use dishes.

“You’re very kind.”

“We have money.”

I can picture Tildy’s hands up. Refusing.

“Let’s go sit in front of the fire and listen to your story.”

They arrange themselves on the floor in spots far from me. I look in their eyes for Syndrome. Hard to tell. But if they had full-blown Syndrome, they’d be restless. Manic. They’d talk quickly, abandoning subjects, undermining themselves. If they have Syndrome, it’s incipient.

“Well. It’s what we have, isn’t it? We’re not going anywhere so we might as well talk about where we come from.”

Tildy is interested in them. She wants to talk about the Bible but she’ll wait till the end. She wants to get these kids to Heaven and she knows that time is not on their side. The girl looks to the boys and they nod. She will speak for them.

“Well, we come from Angus.”

“I know Angus. That’s a army town.”

The guys nod.

“We grew up there. That’s Greg, my brother, and that’s Jeff and Paul, his friends. My name is Holly.”

“I’m Tildy. Bless you.”

Holly smiles. The guys are a little embarrassed.

“We don’t remember pre-orbit. So we kinda grew up with it. But our parents and grown-ups have always been freaked out. Ever since I was a kid. We all grew up that way. It was kind of normal. I was in Grade 11 before it got bad. Nothing special. I worked at DQ. Hung around the mall a lot. I wanted to work in a dentist office. That is. Before. I don’t think I’ve seen a dentist for years. There’s probably none. I don’t know what these guys like. Bikes and scooters. Boards. It’s not much of a story up until things got bad.”

One of the boys speaks with his eyes cast down, fiddling with his sock.

“Tell her about the Seller.”

Tildy hisses.

“Seller? Wicked. Wicked. Wicked. Wicked. Wicked.”

They all nod. Holly glances at me.

“Yeah, so, I mean, a Seller came into our school and we had never seen one so we all went to hear him. I thought it was kinda hokey. He was like a rodeo clown or something. I thought it was just, like, a joke. Our parents didn’t though. They’d get pissed if we said anything about him. So, anyway, we all went to the airfield to hear him and he went on and on and he had, like, show people with him, like circus people.”

That’s why they’re afraid of me. They think they know exactly what I am.

“I didn’t pay much attention and figured it was funny. That night we all come back to the field in our pyjamas and sit around these big fires. The churches were singing songs and I thought it was, like, we all needed to have a break, so that’s what we were doing. I thought, Good. That’s great. Let’s do it. Let’s lighten up.”

I don’t want to look at them I can feel eyes coming to me and leaving quickly, then returning.

“So really, what happens is the clowny guy comes out and says a bunch of stuff then…”

Holly goes quiet. I glance up. They are all looking down except Paul, who is glowering at me.

Tildy lays the silence aside.

“I know, child. I know what happens.”

I close my eyes. I can’t speak. I have no tongue.

“But tell me, Holly, how did you get out?”

Holly takes a deep breath, holds it and exhales.

“Well, I guess, well…”

Tildy leaves for a minute, comes back with a tray of biscuits.

“You got away. That’s the important thing. You got here. I’m sorry for it all.”

She sets the tray on the floor. Greg looks at me, then Tildy.

“We saw some awful things happen. Things—”

“Shush now. It’s ok. I don’t think there’s need for those things ever again.”

The kids silently lift biscuits to their lips.

“Amen.”

Tildy takes the tray when they’re done. She gets Holly to help with blankets and pillows. Soon they are curled up in front of the fire.

Tildy reads from Ecclesiastes until she’s sure they’re sleeping then she goes down on her knees before me so her face is inches from mine. Her cool hands cradle my head.

“It’s been a lovely night, Mosey. Our best night. These kids are good kids.”

Tildy kisses my nose and lays her powder-soft cheek on my forehead. I fall asleep to her hum.

In the morning the kids are gathered by the door. They are talking in whispers. I crane around looking for Tildy. She must be in the kitchen. I notice Holly is crying. I listen hard.

“She must have got up in the night.”

“Do you think she knew?”

“That she’d freeze in her own bed? Yes, I’m pretty sure.”

“That’s what she wanted, Holly. C’mon. That’s what she wanted to do.”

They spend the morning cleaning the house while I weep for Tildy. She waited until I was with someone. She waited until she could find good people to raise me. Oh, Tildy.

Paul walks past me, then takes a step back. He stands over me. I am not Moses. He knows that very well.

“What do we do with this?”

Greg comes to his side and looks down.

“I know what I’d like to do.”

Holly moves in between them and me.

“It was Tildy’s. She left it for us.”

“What if we don’t want it?”

“Okay. For now, it’s mine. I’ll look after it until we figure out what to do.”

The boys all look down at me.

“Okay?”

Their eyes are full of the night everyone they ever knew died.

“Just don’t leave it alone with us.”

“Until you’re ready.”

Holly pushes the boys back. She looks at me and screws up her face.

“Fuck.”

She lifts the empty bottle.

“Seriously. What the fuck are you?”

She sighs through her nose and thinks.

“We live here now.”

I nod and try to show a kind face. I honestly don’t know what my face looks like any more. Can I even look kind?

Holly rises and returns to the kitchen.

Paul walks by and brings the fire back to life with thin logs. He sits and stares into the fire. He looks over his shoulder then directly at me. His voice is low and nasty.

“I’m gonna pretend you’re not here for now. And if that changes, if I have to think about you, then I will drop you in this stove. I promise.”

I nod. I want that. Pretend I’m not here. He stands and kicks dirty punk wood in my face.

“I think you’re an actual fucking maggot.”

He spits on my body.

“Paul!”

Paul steps back with his hands up.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. I get it.”

Holly wipes the bits from my face and rubs with spit. I can tell the way she touches me that deep down she agrees with her brothers.

They move in another room. They are in Tildy’s room. I hear a bang. Another. They are moving Tildy’s furniture. No. They’re moving Tildy.

Don’t touch her! Leave her! Cold air and ash swoop into the room. No! I want to go with her! I want to die with her! Put me outside with Tildy! I clench my sides and spring. I shoot myself from the cushion and hit the floor. Air pops out of my lung or lungs and I struggle to return it.

I hear a scream. I snap my head around to see Holly’s boot coming at me. She kicks my throat and screams again. I try to call out but only manage a bark. The boys move in and wind up to kick. One raises a heavy log. I recoil and move on the muscled points at my shoulders. I am soon under the couch. I use the floor and the couch bottom against my muscles and move quickly to the back. A hand appears then reaches in. I thrust my head forward and bite down hard on the hand. I taste blood. My mouth fills with it. They are screaming. They are cursing and crying. I will cut you. I will bite you. I roll back and find a groove in the wood floor at the wall. I drop into it and tighten my muscles. A poker is thrust in and it pokes my chest hard.