Black Iris: Chapter Eight
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CHAPTER EIGHT
I wake to raindrops pelting my eyeballs. When I finally regain my vision, I see the air conditioner next to me on the sidewalk — an extra-large model designed for a 44-inch window. The plastic seals have been pulverized, and one side is caved in, but the unit is mostly intact.
The empty window is on the fifth floor of 213 Swardson. It’s 2:00 a.m. and the building is dark. I step into the foyer and buzz the entire fifth floor. Nobody answers at first, but I keep trying. Finally, a gruff, half-asleep voice responds over the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, hi. An air conditioner just fell on me. Any chance it came from your place?”
“Are you shitting me? It’s two in the fuckin’ morning, dude.”
“I realize it’s not a great time, but I just died, so…”
There’s silence on the other end.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
I buzz the whole floor again. This time an older woman answers.
“Who’s down there?”
“My name’s Snowball, ma’am. Sorry to bother you so late, but there’s been an accident.”
“An accident? Oh, dear, did something happen to Herbert?”
“Uh, no. Something happened to me, actually. An air conditioner fell — ”
“Are you with the police?”
“No. I was just walking by and — ”
“And Herbert’s ok?”
“Yes, he’s fine. I mean, probably. I have no idea — ”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, this is a prank call, isn’t it? Well, you have a lot of nerve bothering an old lady in the middle of the night. If you don’t leave me alone this instant, I’m calling the police.”
“That’s not necessary. Sorry to bother you, ma’am.”
The police. Most people would call 911 at a time like this, but Mandi is the only cop I trust, so I call her directly.
She answers with her mouth full. “Hey, I’m still on duty for another three hours. I can swing by after, if you’re still — ”
“No, no — well maybe, but that’s not why I’m calling.”
“What’s up?” Country music is playing in the background. Her asshole partner Hanson must be driving.
“I was just hit by a falling air conditioner.”
“Say what now?”
“An air conditioner fell on me. A few blocks from my place.”
“Shit, are you ok?” She takes a sip through a straw.
“No, actually. Well technically, I am now. But no. It killed me.”
“Fuck! Really?”
“Yep. Anyway, I’m standing outside the building now, trying to figure out what to do. Think you could get over here?”
“We’re all the way across town. It’ll take us at least — hold on.”
I hear a muffled voice say “No fucking way we’re going all the way there. If he needs assistance, have him call 911 like everybody else.”
“Hanson says — ”
“Yeah, I heard him.”
Last year, he was accused of murder, and I kept his ass out of prison by finding the real killer. You’d think he would be a little less of a dick to me.
“Sorry,” Mandy says. “But you said you’re ok now, right?”
“More or less. But I want to figure out who’s responsible for this. I just buzzed some of the units, but nobody’s cooperating.”
“Jesus, Snowball, it’s 2:15 a.m. I can call dispatch and get some officers over there now to take your statement, or you can go down to the station in the morning, but if you’re planning on taking legal action, you’ll need to file an official report. Take pictures of everything, get the name of the landlord or property manager, but please stop harassing the tenants.”
I take a breath. “Ok. You’re right. And don’t bother sending anyone, I’ll just come by tomorrow. Will you be there?”
“No, I’ve got the late shift all week.”
“Oh, right.”
“But, uh… yeah, I did get your texts earlier. You didn’t explain how you… anyway, I could still come by in a couple hours if you want. Honestly, though, I’m pretty beat. And you should probably get some rest yourself.”
“Right. Well, thanks for the advice. I’ll check in with you tomorrow at some point.”
“Definitely. Hey, Snowball.”
“Yeah?”
“What number was this? Lives, I mean.”
I wait a beat before answering. Through the phone, I feel her heart sink. “We can talk about it tomorrow. Have a good night.” I hang up before she can respond.
There’s a notice posted next to the mailboxes with contact information for a company called Alsephina Realty. I take pictures of the whole wall, so I have the names of all the tenants as well. I also get a shot of the empty window before lugging the air conditioner home in the rain.
***
My mother is waiting for me when I get in, standing thoughtfully over one of my flower drawings. Aaruvian gods are shapeshifters, and at the moment, she’s in her most familiar form: cat head, furless human body. As a mere demigod, I envy this ability. It would be nice to have bare skin during the summer, or sweetness receptors on my tongue, or human hands to jack off with, or the ability to see all of Roy G. Biv when I’m painting.
“Hello, Snowball,” she says without looking up.
“Osiris told you, huh.” I put the air conditioner down and grab a towel from the kitchen/bathroom.
“He did.” She sits on the couch, squirming a little when she realizes it’s wet, but ultimately decides to stay there. “Come sit.”
The last time she was here, she was the one in dire straits, with her immortality on the line. She was being threatened by unknown enemies, and I was able to help her. This time, my only enemy is myself, and I don’t think there’s much she can do for me now.
I throw the towel down on the cushion before I sit. Not that it matters, since I’m soggier than the couch is at this point. “I’m not exactly sure what you can say that I don’t already know. I fucked up, and now I’m fucked.”
“You’re right. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for ya. You were given the gift of nine lives, and after going over 30 years without a single accident, you burned through eight of them in two years. Some of that wasn’t your fault. I know you lost three of them saving my ass. But you have to admit that, most of the time, you were just plain reckless.”
“Yeah, I know. I just said I fucked up. But what happens now? If there’s something I can do to fix this, I’m all ears.”
She sighs. “I’ll be honest, Snowball. I didn’t come here to give you advice or tell you how to make things better.” She pushes a used wooden rod with her foot. “I came here to tear you a new asshole, but now I can see you’ve been tearing yourself one.”
“Yeah, I haven’t been in a good place lately.”
“That’s an understatement. You have mice, Snowball. Had mice. I took care of them while I was waiting for you. But word’s gotten out about what kind of ship you’re running, and there’ll be more of them.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m half the cat I used to be, and I was only half a cat to begin with. I’m not proud of any of this.”
Lincoln strolls over from across the room and plops his head on my lap. I scratch behind his ears.
My mother’s face softens. “Some of this is on me. I feel awful for not realizing how bad things had gotten. It’s just that you seemed to make the decision to kill yourself so casually, like you were getting a nose job or something.”
The truth is I’ve been so detached lately that it kind of was a casual decision. It seemed like the consequences would belong to someone else. “Well, you were busy running a dimension.”
“That’s no excuse. I’m your mother, for fuck’s sake. I should’ve been there for you. Maybe I could’ve pulled some strings and gotten you bumped up the list.”
“Yeah, actually, that would’ve — You know what? It’s fine. There’s no point in arguing over who could have used their nearly limitless power to procure one measly organ and who couldn’t have.”
“Does your father know what’s been going on? I know you’re still going to the house every Saturday for lunch.”
“We don’t really talk about stuff like this. And I make sure to show up sober so he has no reason to worry.”
“Sober? Have you been drinking?”
“What do you think those wooden rods are for?”
“I assumed it was a sex thing. Like maybe because you couldn’t… wait, what do they have to do with getting drunk?”
I forgot this is something I invented. “You soak those things in alcohol — usually something strong like vodka — and then… you insert them. And I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you.”
She furrows her brow as though she were tasting the alcohol herself. “But why would you do that?”
“Because I want to get drunk, but I can’t stand the taste of alcohol.”
“Well, I guess that explains the weird combination of smells. I thought maybe the alcohol was to sterilize the thing before you… never mind. So, if that’s what all these things are, it looks like you’ve been on quite a bender.”
“I should probably throw the dirty ones out.”
She picks up a nearby sheet of newsprint. “And what’s the deal with all these drawings of flowers?”
“I actually don’t know why I’ve been doing them, but they could be inspired by the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibit at the museum. Have you seen it?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t been back there since that messy business in the basement.”
During the chaos last summer, she slashed a guy’s throat in the museum’s exhibition prep room. Technically, she did it to save me, but I got the sense she kind of enjoyed it.
“I had work in the student show last June. You missed it.”
“I know. Sorry. Hey, weren’t you seeing your drawing teacher for a while?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that still going on?”
“No, we broke up.”
“How long were you together?”
“A while.”
Long enough for most mothers to wonder why they hadn’t been introduced yet, that’s for sure. Not that I care about that sort of thing. I didn’t want to subject Gia to my weird-ass family any more than I had to. It was bad enough that my father’s her boss.
My mother looks at the drawing again. “This is about her, isn’t it? The drinking. The suicide. This nasty apartment.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve never really had a girlfriend before. This is what can happen.”
“Not to me. Sure, when Gia and I broke up, I was disappointed, but this has nothing to do with it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“She’s not why I killed myself, at least. You already know why I did that.”
Lincoln yelps. Evidently, I’ve been scratching a little too hard.
“If you say so.”
When it comes to this human stuff, Bastet is out of her depth. She’s too self-centered to be insightful.
“I don’t know what else to say. I shouldn’t have killed myself, but I did. And then a stupid accident happened, and now I’m down to my last life, so — ”
“So maybe you should stop getting drunk. Stop sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and get back to life. You’re whole again. That’s all you needed, right?”
That’s all I needed when I still had a backup life. Now, I feel like I need something more. Like maybe an Iron Man suit or a guardian angel. Air conditioner repellant, for sure. I know they say the chances of getting hit with a falling air conditioner more than once in your lifetime are slim to none, but technically, I haven’t been hit yet in this lifetime, so it’s not as much of a long shot.
“So, I guess you are giving me advice after all. Well, I’ll take it under advisement.”
“I’d ask if you’re ok, but I already know that you’re not.”
“I’m just tired. I died twice today. You’ve never died, but take my word for it, it’s exhausting.”
“Listen, just… be careful, ok? We cats are an impetuous lot, and we’re not known for thinking things through. If you’re only half the cat you used to be, maybe that means you can be twice the human you were. Live your life as though it’s your only one, because it is.” She gets up from the couch and takes a phone-like object out of her handbag. Before turning the inter-dimensional transporter on, she reaches down and picks up one of my drawings. “I like this one. Can I have it?”
“Sure.”
“Do me a favor and keep your communicator on. I’m going to be checking in on you a little more often for a while.”
“Fine.” The radiation from the inter-dimensional communicator makes me nauseous. I keep meaning to get a newer model.
“And tell your father what’s going on, will ya?”
“Fine.”
As a mortal human male, he might actually be able to relate to the choices I’ve made. We’ll see, I guess.
My mom presses a button on her device, and a blue glowing portal opens. “Take care, Snowball. I love you.”
“You, too.”
“You know… Aaru isn’t such a bad place to spend eternity. Just something to keep in mind.”
She steps into the swirling light and disappears.
Aaru isn’t a planet in a universe with other planets; it’s a self-contained plane of existence. And it has a very monotonous desert climate. In some ways, it’s like the video game Pacman, where if you walk far enough in one direction, you come out the other side. When I was a kitten, my mother once brought me to the edge of the universe. It was cool at first, but the more I thought about it, the more depressing it seemed. Living there would be like spending eternity on a treadmill. The Aaruvian gods don’t have a place where they send bad souls to be tortured, but as far as I’m concerned, any place where I can’t come and go as I please is Hell. It’s why I don’t like closed doors.