Дэвид Митчелл - Utopia Avenue

… and he slumps like a discarded puppet. Elf stops playing. Dean stops. Griff stops and stands. The audience falls silent. Someone shouts, ‘What’s going on?’ Jasper’s mouth’s moving, forming a word Elf cannot read, and closing. A fish drowning in air. She recalls Dean’s story about Little Richard’s fake heart-attack, but this isn’t that. Jasper’s nose is bleeding. Maybe he cracked it on the floor. Maybe it’s more sinister. Levon and Brigit come skidding up. Levon shouts, ‘Lower that curtain!’ Seconds later, the fire-curtain drops down. Jasper spasms, and snarls, like a dog in pain. Muscles are moving in his neck. Brigit shouts, ‘Get Dr Grayling!’ Elf remembers Brighton Polytechnic. Staff appear with a tarpaulin. They slip it under Jasper’s body and, with Griff and Dean, carry him to the changing room. They lower him onto the red leatherette sofa. Jasper’s only semi-conscious, at best. Luisa checks for a pulse – Of course she knows first aid: her dad’s a war reporter – while Dean dabs blood from Jasper’s nose with a hanky. ‘Yer’ll be fine, mate, don’t worry, yer’ll be okay.’ Luisa says his pulse is through the roof. A hefty, bison-faced man in flannel barrels in with Brigit. ‘This is Dr Grayling, he’s hip.’ He kneels by the sofa and peers into Jasper’s face: ‘Can you hear me, Jasper?’

Jasper makes no response. His eyes flicker.

A scraping noise comes from Jasper’s throat.

Dr Grayling asks, ‘Anyone: does he have a history of epilepsy?’

Elf forces a reply, ‘Not as far as we know.’

‘Diabetes?’

‘No,’ says Dean.

‘You know for certain?’

‘I’m his flatmate.’

‘What drugs is he on? Do not lie.’

‘Only Queludrin,’ says Elf. ‘As far as we know.’

The doctor looks sceptical: ‘The anti-psychotic? Are you sure?’

‘Yes. He took some yesterday.’

‘Any schizophrenic episodes of late?’

‘I don’t think so,’ says Elf.

‘He was missing all day,’ says Dean. ‘We can’t be sure what happened since this morning, or what he took.’

‘I’ll give him a sedative to bring his pulse down.’ The doctor readies a hypodermic needle. ‘Brigit, you’d better call an ambu—’

The doctor’s mouth stops moving, as do his arms, hands, fingers and eyelids. He is a 3D photograph of himself … except for a vein. Elf sees it throb. Dean, also, is motionless, except for his chest rising and falling. Elf turns her head to Luisa – who is motionless, biting her fingernail. ‘Lu? Can you—’

Timepiece

The wall in Jasper’s mind is shattered, and falls away.

Knock Knock bursts out, flooding his brain.

Jasper’s sentience dims to near zero.

Presence reverts to Absence.

Jasper’s body is now Knock Knock’s. He can no more command it than the viewer of Lawrence of Arabia can command Peter O’Toole, up on the screen. No vocabulary exists for this non-death. Jasper must resort to metaphor. I used to drive this car where, when and how I wished: now I’m a passenger in the back, tied and gagged. Or, I was once a lighthouse: now I’m a memory of a light-house in a mind unravelling. Through the eyes that were his, he sees the interior of Private Ward N9D. Through the ears that were his, he hears textured silence. The Hollow Man has stopped breathing.

Yet , thinks Jasper, I’m thinking this, so a piece of me must still exist. He senses Knock Knock’s emotions: the joy of liberation; a curiosity about this tall, strong young body he can now call his. Knock Knock flexes his fingers, stands, inhales deeply. He puts on Jasper’s shoes, leaves the ward and retraces Jasper’s steps from the Emergency Room back through the hospital.

Can you hear me? asks Jasper.

If I wish to , replies Knock Knock.

Am I dead? asks Jasper.

You are an ember , replies Knock Knock.

Will I live like this? asks Jasper.

Do embers live long?

Where are we going?

There is no ‘we’ .

Where are you going?

To the place of ceremony, of song, of worship.

Church? asks Jasper.

The venue , replies Knock Knock .

The Ghepardo? Why are you—

A connection is cut, and Jasper receives blurrier, dreamier pictures and the sounds of Knock Knock exiting the hospital and hailing a cab. ‘The Ghepardo on Broadway and 53rd,’ says Knock Knock, in Jasper’s ex-voice. New York slides by in fits and starts. Cars, lights, shops, buses, store fronts, other passengers, in other taxis. Jasper watches it all from inside Knock Knock. He is a passenger within a passenger. Knock Knock knows what I know, but I don’t know what Knock Knock knows. Jasper’s lost his former fluency of thought. Deduction takes effort. Does this asymmetry of knowledge mean Dr Galavazi was right or wrong? Am I insane, or is this real? Jasper doesn’t know. Jasper doesn’t know how to know.

Levon is outside the Ghepardo. A poster says, ‘ Take a trip down UTOPIA AVENUE .’ The cab stops and Knock Knock gets out, bringing what’s left of Jasper with him. ‘Hey!’ shouts the driver. ‘HEY! Mister! Two sixty!’ Levon’s already there, handing him three dollars. ‘Keep the change, keep the change. Thanks. Bye.’ The taxi roars off. Levon grips Knock Knock’s shoulders believing them to be Jasper’s. Jasper wants to explain, to apologise, to beg for help, but his tongue, lips and vocal cords won’t work for him. Levon’s frowning. Worry , Jasper guesses, relief and anger. ‘Can you play?’ asks Levon. ‘Have you taken anything?’

Knock Knock speaks: ‘I am here to play.’

Jasper hears his own voice convey another’s words.

‘Good,’ says Levon. ‘You’ve cut it fine, but that’s great.’

Around them, people are entering the venue.

Someone says, ‘That’s him, that’s Jasper de Zoet.’

But it’s not! It’s not me! It’s my body, hijacked!

Levon steers Knock Knock down an alley, through a stage door and down a corridor, where Levon tells a stagehand, ‘Tell Max and Brigit the Prodigal Son is home.’ They enter a changing room with dressing-tables and two big red sofas in the centre. Elf is sitting on one, with her friend Luisa. Good , thinks Jasper. I’m glad you found her, or she found you. Howie Stoker is here, dressed like Dracula, with a girlfriend – or his daughter? – whose eyelashes curl and interlace like Venus fly-traps. Elf stands up in her lucky suede jacket from Top of the Pops and says his name. Griff’s in his loose shirt with his chest hair showing. Dean’s shouting at him. Knock Knock asks for water. Dean flings a jugful into Knock Knock’s face. Knock Knock enjoys the sensation. Dean is still shouting. A fleck of spittle lands on Knock Knock’s cheek. ‘ You’re not shouting at who you think you’re shouting at ’, Jasper wants to tell him – but will never be able to tell anyone anything ever again. Elf’s calmer. There are mirrors. This gets complicated. Through Jasper’s ex-eyeballs, Jasper sees his ex-body, steered by Knock Knock, approach the mirror. Knock Knock is smiling with Jasper’s face. So that’s what my smile looks like. It is strange beyond strange. Knock Knock turns away and tunes Jasper’s Stratocaster, drawing on Jasper’s knowledge. Luisa touches his ex-forehead. ‘No fever,’ says the woman. Max Mulholland arrives, pink and sweaty, followed by a bustling woman, who Jasper guesses is the venue owner. Speech multiplies. What’s left of Jasper can’t keep words in the right order as easily as his old self could. It’s like a roomful of radios. His ex-fingers pluck a G. ‘I am here to play,’ says Knock Knock. ‘I want their energy.’