David Means - Hystopia

Then they’d go to a car and drive into a morning silent except for the birds singing and the wind in the trees. The trees, she’d think, casting a single glance back at the house in its disrepair, its abjectness and sadness, and then he’d dog-feed her another pill. This one she’d have to take, and she’d fall into the stupor of her former self, curling up on the seat and listening as the car roared to life and he fishtailed out, sending a cloud of dust toward the front porch. That was as far as she could imagine. Subdued by the drugs, she’d see the rest from a place she knew well but couldn’t locate, even in her imagination.

* * *

I’m going on a distribution run, Rake announced later that morning. I’m taking Haze with me. We’ll give out some freebies to entice future buyers. No need to charge. Want to avoid exchanges of funds.

He stood on the porch and winked at Hank. I’m going to have to ask you for a pledge again. You’re not to touch her. No running, either.

You have my word, Hank said, glancing out across the yard. I’m just going to clear some of the dead wood out there, not far from the shore, or do a little scouting around.

Take her with you. Tie her up. Don’t let her anywhere near the water.

He had a valise, stuffed with product. All night he’d been in the kitchen, sorting and chopping, testing the product. His eyes were glazed.

The Lord will be with you, MomMom said from the doorway. Or else he won’t, she added.

I’d bet on him not being with us, Rake said. I’d bet God’s gonna take a rain check.

Haze stood quietly by the car with his hands deep in his pockets.

They stood on the porch and watched them drive off. The dust lifted into the trees. Hank put his finger to his lips and said, Don’t quote scripture to me now, Mom.

* * *

Outside the birds were quiet, or dead, or gone to more cheerful places. Meg showered after Hank, stepping shyly into the bathroom. He touched her on the shoulder, gave her a quick kiss, told her to take as long as she wanted, and went downstairs to brew a thermos of coffee. Out in the yard, MomMom was on the ground again, twisting in a fit. He ran water into a galvanized bucket and then went out to where she lay with her hips upthrust and her back arched. The voice is a pliant thing; the voice can do amazing things, he thought. The air hissed through her teeth. Her stockinged knees looked crooked and sad in the unforgiving sunlight. He doused her in the face with water and watched her sputter and spit. As he helped her up, she muttered, Goddamn it, what the hell you doing, Hank? and he said, I’m waking you up, you’re having another fit. I’m heading out and I’m taking Meg with me. I’d like you to watch us leave and take note that I took her with me. I’m going to tie her up and I want you to see that, too, and when Rake comes back you’re going to say, Yes, Hank had her tied, and then he asked her to repeat it and she said, What? And he said, You’ll tell Rake she was tied. Now say it to me, and she said, Tell Rake she was tied. And he said, No, that’s not what I mean. I mean when Rake interrogates me, which he’s going to do, about my handling of Meg, and when he asks you what happened, I want you to say, He had Meg tied, and she said, I don’t know what you mean, and he said, Forget it, Ma. He brushed the dirt off her back and walked her into the kitchen.

Why’d you do that, splash me awake like that? I was speaking to him directly.

In the mudroom he got two lengths of rope and then went upstairs. Meg was squeezing her hair in a towel.

I’ve got to tie your hands, he said. We’re going to march you in front of MomMom and make her practice her lines. I’m going to tie you and I’ll wheelbarrow you through the yard while you scream, and we’ll make sure MomMom sees that. We’ll make sure she remembers. Ideally she’ll forget minor details, which will make it sound even more horrific when Rake interrogates her.

When she was dressed, he sat her down on the bed and gently tied her wrists, keeping the rope loose, using a slipknot.

If you want to get out of these, just pull hard and you’ll be free. You can let yourself free anytime you want, even in the yard, even in front of Ma. If you don’t want to play the part don’t play it and I’ll figure something else out.

She went down the stairs ahead of him into the kitchen. Look, Ma, Hank said. I want you to take note of this. I’m leading her out tied up. Can you say that for me? he said. Why should I say that for you? she said. Because I want to make sure you remember. I want you to say to Rake: He had her tied up. Can you say that for me? He crossed his arms and waited.

You got her tied up, she said.

Good, Mom, that’s fine. Just remember that when Rake asks you, because he’ll come back and he’ll be suspicious. This is a test. For all I know, he’s out there in the trees right now waiting and watching.

* * *

I’m not saying I believe it anymore, he was saying. They were about a mile up the trail, moving along a barely discernible path, a faint trace in the pine needles, close enough to shore to see the water through the trees. Hank made slow, deliberate steps, stopping often to smell the air and scout with his hand up to his forehead. The trees thinned where the rocky berm began, showing shards of slate-colored lake. I’m not saying I even believe in the vision of the Corps, or the treatment, that it works in the long run, or any of that. What matters right now is that Haze and Rake are paired up, tight. They’re a new pair. They were loading the car with gas cans and old rags, so I guess the truth is they’re going on another burning and killing spree, not a distribution run. They had fuses and a few sticks of old dynamite from the shed.

Then he stopped and turned her around and untied her wrists and rubbed them lovingly.

I’m sorry I had to do that. I was just acting the part as much as I could but didn’t feel it, not at all. You know that, right? You knew that. And of course I know some of the New Meg is still there. What we want to do is get more of you back, to take you into the water and get you in the cold — not much, just a bit — and start to get some of your memories back.

He looked around the woods. I’ve got some Potawatomi blood in me, most certainly, and I would’ve heard him on this part of the trail if he were scouting parallel to us.

He kissed her and touched her face and looked into her eyes. She was still slightly stoned from whatever Rake had fed her. A lollygag motion in the eyes, disconnected from her thoughts. When she spoke, the words seemed to take a trip to the moon and back, the same kind of delay. He glanced one more time back into the woods, the sunlight streaming through the high branches — the disorder of an unplanted forest — and then once more out toward the lake, at the scrubby little jack pines that hung on for dear life in the steady wind, stunted and short, most of them young because older trees died a quick wintery death in the storms. Everything seemed quiet. They were as alone as they could get.

Another supertanker slid along the horizon on its way to Duluth. He led her down to the water and put his hands on her shoulders and held her for a moment.

Now, this is how it’s going to happen, he said. You’re going to go into the water and I’m going to go with you. You’ll go up to your ankles and feel how cold it is and then you’ll want to dash out, or else you’ll want to submerge yourself totally right away, one or the other depending on how much you want to unfold, and I’ll help you but you might not think I’m helping. I’m not going to force you but I’m going to make sure you don’t kill yourself. Holding her by the shoulder, feeling her shivers, he walked with her into the water. Before he could say anything more she wrenched free and ran leaping through the shallows and then, with a small cry, she slipped over the shelf — the drop-off was quick — and sank with her arms straight up and was gone. He dove and swam to find her, reaching out with broad strokes, resisting his impulse to shut his eyes against the cold. When he came back up, she was up, too, finding the edge of the shelf with her feet, gasping. Then she sank back down, and he had his arms around her and brought her in so he could touch the bottom with his feet. He cupped her head with his palm and held her down in the water, feeling her relax. He counted the seconds and then let her up again, spitting water from her lips, and when he asked if she wanted him to push her down again, to go the full count, she said, Yes, yes, and before he could think, before she could think, he pushed her back under and counted again, going as long as he dared, waiting for her to struggle against him, going all the way to the limit, as close as he could, watching the bubbles rise in the clean gloss of the wavelets, and when he finally let her back up he could see in her eyes right away that she had gone through a change; her eyes were sad, bright, frightened, but relieved.