chapter thirteen
That night, I crashed at Shim's place. I was just tired. I mean, I went through like ten decisions all at once, And besides, I could use a hug or three. For, like, eight hours straight. Gosh, that sounds really great, even just writing it out. As I walked through the door, Shim scooped me up and brought me to the back room. She had a book on the table, Making Sure Humans Love Themselves, which I assume was from the library. "Hey there, Tams!" she exclaimed. Jev was already asleep on the floor, and Shaw was sprawled out on the couch. She nestled me up against Jev who slowly wrapped an arm around me, and Shim laid down alongside. It was always a treat to just get to lay back and sleep with them, it felt nice to be that close to them. The only problem I saw was whenever I'd have some flashback to some stupid guy who doesn't know how things work. There's probably one coming up!
I was in over my head.
See, I knew it!
I didn't know how to tell her that I couldn't help her anymore. I had just received the letter today, about Tammy heading to meet Linus Linoleum
what
and that's well out of my domain. I have not worked with him, and frankly he scares me. I don't think of him fondly, he's why we're in the mess we're in, he's failed to take responsibility for the state the afterward has ended up in, and sure on one hand the strangeness and diversity delights people, but as I've explained to Bit we're hitting the limit. What qualifies as a living thing is becoming harder to define, there are people who are intangible and for all intents and purposes do not exist, but simply being around them causes lapses in the confines of our reality, your entire perception of reality falls apart and re-assembles itself. All of this mess on a borderline defunct core that we can't even keep reasonably cool anymore, we're opting to use a water-based coolant. It's water-based, but that's only water in the same way water-based paints are. Who knows what side effects it's having on people. Is it making them more tolerable of corruption? Is it loosening up the populace, making them more aggreeable to Linus' insanity? I've been distilling my own alcohol for years now, and it's getting to the point where I can't trust other drinks, I simply don't know what's in the water. If Tammy wants to visit Linus, she is more than welcome to. If he helps sort him out and get him back to the body of Calvin Riddick, if he helps her decide to stay Tammy, I think either way she'll be happy; but I cannot stress enough that she has to be prepared for anything he might attempt. Is he even around still? Who will greet her when she gets to his office? Failing who, then what?
I must have been worried something fierce and Jev could tell, as I woke up a bit I was held very firmly against her like a beloved toy. Why was that about Memmi? Did I need to figure that out now? I mean, not now, I couldn't go anywhere at the moment, Jev was a lot stronger than I anticipated and I was being clutched tightly. I mean, maybe it's a fluke. Maybe I just dreamt that, maybe I'm going a bit mad.
Linus Linoleum firmly believed that our world existed only as it was written on the pages of the universe. Whatever was written was deemed the truth to some degree, even if the truth was that the previous sentence, the previous thought was a lie. And in the world, people are readers, some are writers, and some are metamancers capable of changing the 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓉. The field of study he created about this is both some of the most fascinating work documented ever, and some of the most insane, asinine, twisted. Exactly how much of this is the work of the continual degredation of the afterward? When were the new fonts added? Was it this afterward or the last that let me monologue, to myself as I sort this out over a daiquiri, in a striking blue color? Why can I even decide to mologue in color? And if this, all of this, every last moment is documented on the page, then we must ask the question as to who is our storyteller? Is it Linus due to his influence? Is it me? The Nexus, maybe that Calvin character? Perhaps Tammy? If we assume this is a book of a sort, perhaps just a collection of somewhat related chapters uploaded to the Internet on a haphazard schedule over the course of a few months, then who is our protagonist? Our antagonist? Again, can we count Linus as an antagonist for letting things get this way? Perhaps we have too many confounding variables on the table.
Maybe I should just talk to her.
I didn't know how to tell Memmi that she could, that I could hear her right now. How could I do that? I was so worried, so confused, but I couldn't do anything about it. Jev was out cold, taking in the warmth of the room, and I was helpless to free myself. On one hand, I've grown used to being hugged and cuddled like this, but on the other hand it was starting to feel claustrophobic. What do I do? Shim and Shaw were also both asleep, and I felt bad about waking them up. I guess I could wait. I mean, I was starting to not mind waiting, honestly. I was pinned nice and tight to a cute Lizi and her two friends, all of whom loved me a whole lot. While they were cold-blooded, the warm room and them trapping my body heat had me toasty warm and eased the little part of my brain yelling about the events from a couple paragraphs before. It was finally settling in, finding a nice cozy spot to curl up and take a nap. Jev started to stir, hugged me even tighter, rocked me a little bit, and hummed a tiny, happy tune in my ear. It was so delightful that it nearly instantly put me to
So one question remains: how would one actually take a metaphysical train? Would you simply fool yourself into thinking there was a train to take? Would that be enough? Would you need to get a writer writing enough about the train that it becomes easy to confuse the false train with the real, that with that much effort put into describing a false train that it becomes real? If I were to describe its sturdy metal exterior painted a brilliant red, its bright white headlights, the quiet hum of the vehicle passing through the wind, the sunny vista the train comes to a stop in in our next afterward, is that enough? Does that count?
I dunno, Memmi, maybe it does, but right now the dopamine store's wide open and the sleepy good feelings are overstocked. Everytime I started waking back up to find myself pinned under a totally immobile arm and surrounded by my sweetest friends, it was just a more peaceful, blissful moment. It's clear to me now that I'm done for the night, this is my entire evening, I should probably just commit to sleep now, and try not to let italic rambling wake me back up. Can I just, like, dream for once?
That's better. I was atop a great big hill overlooking an endless sea of clouds. As far down, up, left as I could look was an endless vista, framed all-around with the trim of a red blanket wrapped around me. I was enjoying a glass of cold chocolate milk, something I had forgotten I had forgotten until just now, unfortunately, but I was alright with that as this marked the first time I remembered it, and your first time is always the best. It was cool, the flavor made me happy, and I could just relax and watch the clouds roll by forever. As soon as the last bit of milk was gone, so was the glass. I didn't know where it went, and I couldn't care. In this moment, I was more excited than anything to roll down the hill. It just made sense, I hadn't done that in so long. I fell over and let gravity do the rest, sending me tumbling further and further down the hill before coming to a stop.
I sat back up and let the rush of confusion leave me. Everything seemed the same, I was still at the edge of a hill overlooking the sky, I was still as sweet as ever, and as soon as I had finished remembering what I had just done, I had forgotten again. I giggled sweetly at the idea, it just felt nice in the moment to forget what I had done last, every moment felt new, unplanned, unexplored by anyone, everyone. I needed to roll down the hill again.
Once more I tumbled to the edge of the hill again, and once more I forgot again. I had so many--
"Ah, there you are!" someone called out to me.
It was Memmi! She was sitting at the edge of the hill, too! "Hi, I'm Tammy!" I said, the name ringing loud in my own head, making me warm with happiness.
It just fit me so well, Tammy. I couldn't remember other names, this one was just so perfect. "Right, we've met. Not here, at least, but--"
"--let's roll down the hill!" I exclaimed, pushing her over gently and rolling after.
We both came to the edge of the hill once more, and how I had ended up here with a dizzy feeling was already fleeting. There was just so much to do! "Look, Tammy, I need you to listen to me."
"Hey, there! I feel like we've met!" I replied, more delighted than ever to just be here.
"Tammy, please. Do not roll down the hill. Please. And do not take me along!"
Aw, she was no fun! Maybe she just needed to see just how good it could be! I've never rolled down hills before, but it just sounds fun, letting gravity pick you up and leave you wherever, letting the world decide where you're going, what fun things you'll find next. I started reaching to poke her into falling down the hill, but was stopped. Her eyes were glowing. "Tammy," she said in a voice that sounded like she was a whole choir of fun-stoppers, "you must not go down the hill again. Trust me. Let's sit."
Maybe she'd just need to see an example. I plunged myself down the hill, rolling and tumbling, laughing the entire way. When I sat back up at the bottom, finding myself at the edge again, I had forgotten how I ended up here. It was just so much fun to forget, it was brand new all over again. There was this girl sitting at the edge of the hill, too, a kind of sad-looking little girl in a big hat looking at me all upset with bright irises in a sea of black. "Tammy, don't you see what's happening to your memories?"
My memories? I wanted to forget, it made doing things so much more fun when you didn't know what would happen next! And I was sooooo curious as to what would happen if I laid down at the edge of the hill and rolled off of it. I wanted to give this girl a fun time like I was having! "Come on!" I exclaimed.
"Tammy, I didn't want to have to do this, forgive me."
Suddenly, the sky went dark. The girl shot up in the air and a black inky murkiness erupted from her eyes. What was happening?
"tαmmч, í αm spєαkíng tσ чσu dírєctlч, cαn чσu hєαr mє?"
"I..."
"lístєn tσ mє. fσr чσur sαkє αs wєll αs mínє, чσu must stσp. dσ nσt fσrgєt, undєr nσ círcumstαncє, чσu must rєmєmвєr. í αm sσrrч thís ís hσw чσu must lєαrn σf mч cαpαвílítíєs, вut ít must вє dσnє."
"Memmi, I... ugh, my head--"
"αgαín, dσ fσrgívє mє fσr whαt í αm dσíng tσ чσu. í prσmísє чσu, thís ís fσr чσur σwn gσσd."
"Memmi, I... what's happenin--"
ᏬᏁᏖᎧ ᏖᏂᏋ ᏰᏒᏋᏗፈᏂ, ᏰᏒᎥᏁᎶ ᎦᎧᏒᏖᏂ ᏇᏂᏗᏖ ᏂᏗᏕ ᏰᏋᏋᏁ ᎦᎧᏒᎶᎧᏖᏖᏋᏁ, ᎥᎷᎮᏗᏝᏋ ᏖᏂᏋ ᏒᏋᏗፈᏂ ᎧᎦ ᏖᏂᏋ ᏖᎩᏒᏗᏁᏖ, ᎮᏒᎧᏖᏋፈᏖ ᏖᏂᏋ ᎷᎥᏁᎴᏕ ᎧᎦ ᏖᏂᏋ ᎥᏁᏁᎧፈᏋᏁᏖ
I shot awake in a panic, which scared Jev, who scared Shim, who knocked into Shaw. There was a burning pain in my head and I felt weak. "I... what happened... oh gosh, wh-- Jev, Shim... oh, no, oh I'm sorr--"
"Jeez, Tams, talk about a wake up call."
"I was dreaming, not like the usual 'hi my name's Cal and I'm a jerk' dream, though. Like at first it was Memmi talking about Linus, and then it was a dream about me and I just kept rolling down a hill and it was making me forget and Memmi was there and she shoutedsomehorribletextatmeanditmademereallysc—"
"Whoa, Tams, settle down. Memmi was in your dreams?"
"I..."
"Look, what did she tell you she was? Did you ever ask her?"
"I think... I think she said a Nephim, something like that?"
"Okay, Nephim's have the ability to enter the mind. It's a power they are born with that starts super sharp, but over time it can dull and that's how they age. When nothing is left, they... um..."
"Oh, uh..."
"And that's what makes Memmi so good at metamancing, that's probably why she was in your dreams. She was trying to tell you something."
"Oh, um..."
"Are you okay? She used her power on you, the override?"
"I guess, ah, it's..."
"Shh, shh, don't say any more," Shim whispered, barely audible, "you're probably hurting. Here, just take this and you should probably go to bed. Um, maybe in your bed tonight, Tams."
She handed me a packet of pink and a small pouch with a pill in it. "This will help your headache and this should help you go to bed. Tomorrow, you should go see her."
"I... okay."
I took the pill, walked home in the early morning light, got into my room, ate the whole packet, downed a glass of water from the washroom sink, and laid in bed. I could still feel what she had done to my brain, like a hot iron brand pressed against it like the back of Australian cattle. It hurt, but Shim seemed to know that the pill and pink would help. What is it about pink? It makes it so easy to fix bad memories, why would the original Tammy make that? I was too tired to start connecting the dots, I just wanted to get to bed and wake up feeling better.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
