Saboteur: A Novel (21 page)

Chapter
XII

Downy was awake for a few strange seconds before he was
aware of someone else’s presence. A smell of body odor, pungent, which he had
managed to incorporate into his dreams, permeated the tiny cell. A man sat
opposite him in the corner, one of his legs pulled to his chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”
Downy said in a tense whisper

Guy Taro leaned slowly forward
before speaking. “You’re already breaking your first promise to me.”

“Ok, how do we get out?”

“We walk. Come on then.” Taro said
jumping to his feet suddenly.

He raised himself from the bed
forgetting he was naked, covering himself again in embarrassment.

“Here throw this on.”

Downy looked at what appeared to be
a very large white sheet.

“Just drape it over yourself, maybe
someday I’ll show you how to put one on properly.”

He realized the cell door was ajar
and his eyes opened wide in amazement. “We are seriously just going to walk out
of here?”

“Absolutely, we are all alone in
fact so you can stop whispering.”

The two men walked back through the
hall together, but amazingly the giant cell block door was no longer there, in
fact the entire station looked as if it were under renovation; whole pieces of
rooms were missing and there were no longer phones at the end of the hall.

“Keep walking, ok?”

Downy suddenly felt uneven, his
stomach turned without warning and the saliva rushed up from his throat into
his mouth. He bent over to throw up, but since he had had no food, he only dry
heaved instead.

“What’s happening to me?” he said
between gasps.

“You have the sickness. I will give
you a pill as soon as we’re out of here. It will help, but until the heaving
stops you just have to keep moving.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t have time to explain
really, but I do believe Woody’s makes sense, since you have passed so much
pleasant time there in the past.”

“Are you crazy? We’ll be seen for
sure.”

“You are absolutely safe with me
tonight, Professor Downy. Everything about your circumstances has changed in
fact.”

The two descended a long corridor
and out of an unfinished door frame he could see a low moon on the horizon and
countless stars, but the night was too big, the stars too bright. In the huge
parking lot out front was a grassy, open field where there had been asphalt for
as far as the eye could see. The city, off in the distance, looked dark.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. I was you once
myself, some time ago.”

He suddenly felt his knees buckle
and he fell on the grass, taking in deep, panicky breaths. He was sure he was
going to lose consciousness.

“Professor, you must not go to
sleep on me. Take this,” he said handing him what appeared to be a sugar cube,
“and do not let it come up. We have but one chance at this and after I have no
idea what happens to either of us if we don’t get it right.”

He looked at the cube and back at
Taro. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh goodness, no. Please, it will
help.”

He put it in his mouth and felt it
dissolving, but it stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow. He looked around
in every direction, but the city was dark and the skyline too. He bit down hard
on his tongue to get more saliva and swallowed again. Taro kneeled next to him
and put his hands on his shoulders, starting to slowly massage them.

“Your heart is in a panic at the
moment and your muscles are getting no blood. Try to relax; it will take only a
few minutes to ease.”

He felt something in his chest like
a quivering and then warmth radiated out spreading to his limbs. He breathed
out suddenly realizing that for many seconds he had forgotten to do so.

“Look at those pupils.” Taro said
laughing. “Now we’re ready for a night on the town.”

“Why are you taking me to Woody’s?”
he asked, but his words seemed to be on delay and he could almost hear himself
after the fact, his voice in a long tunnel, quite separate from his body.

“A certain acquaintance of yours is
going to meet us there. I have had a difficult time getting him to sit down
with me, but your presence seems to have made him a bit more reasonable on this
point.”

He stood up on a knee now feeling
his balance return slightly. “Jesus, Taro! Where are we, what’s happening?”

“You my friend are intoxicated with
a very pure form of a certain tincture. I believe it’s called acid.”

“Oh shit, you fucking drugged me.”

“Yes, but without out it you would
end up in a most lamentable state, I’m afraid. I took the same thing only hours
ago and it is a very mild dose, only meant to smooth out the edges, very pure.”

“The edges of what?”

“Realitatem. Reality as you say,
it’s a slippery business, more than I ever imagined. Look, our chariot has
arrived,” Taro said pointing.

A car’s headlights bounced over the
edge of the grass and he could see a taxi sign illuminating a very large cab.

“Come on get in and let me do the
talking, ok?”

The two men slid silently into the
back seat.

“Could you take us to Woody’s on
Second Street, please?”

The cabbie turned to them, looking
them over suspiciously. “Halloween ain’t till next week boys. What gives?”

“Yes,” Taro said laughing, “My friend
and I are actors you see. We practice just over there in the evenings.”

“Whatever floats your boat buddy,
no business of mine,” he said driving back toward the highway.

In the darkness he was sure they
were lost, but the white ocean surf was on their right and the highway looked
familiar still somehow. They couldn’t be far from the jail. He must have been
knocked out and brought somewhere different while he slept. It was a trick. His
mind twitched at the details of how Taro had pulled it off. Taro leaned forward
toward the cabbie.

“My friend is shipping off to fight
tomorrow, would you mind if we share a drink?”

“God bless, go ahead,” the cabbie
shouted over the roar of the engine. “It’s good goddamn luck headin’ over now
if you ask me, I heard on the radio the fighting is almost over, but that’s not
the first time I hear ‘em say so. Wars and rumors of wars the bible says.”

“Thank you,” Taro said nodding his
head and then holding up a flask. “It’s a sweet wine from the country, hand
pressed by some of the loveliest girls you might ever meet.”

Taro tasted it first. “I’m no
drinker, but if I were--” he said savoring the taste.

Downy could see no reason not to
and tipped it up himself. He choked a bit at first, but then just let the
flavors wash over his tongue. He thought he could feel it creep down all the
way to the pit of his stomach. He grabbed again at the flask and swallowed
furiously.

“Amazing,” he said and the
combination of drink and drugs now had him slap happy.

“Those girls take a vow to stay
virginal, the ones who press it, but that doesn’t affect the taste one way or
the other I can assure you,” Taro said laughing, putting his hand on Downy’s
shoulder affectionately.

The cab was clearly on Main now and
he pressed his face to the window. It was beginning to spit rain against the
windshield, but there it was off in the distance the marquee lights blinking in
the night, “Woody’s Tavern.” The cab pulled to a noisy halt in front of the
place. The two men pulled themselves out, Taro returning to the window to pay.

“Hey pal, this is one great tip.
Thanks, man. I worked for thirty years and this one is…I gotta say is the
bigges—,” the cabbie was almost coming up out of his seat as they walked away.

“Why does everything look so
strange?” he said, stopping to look up, swaying a bit as he stared up at the
blinking sign. “The sign’s never all lit up like that.”

Taro pulled him along without a
word through the front doors and Downy could hear one of his favorite tunes
from the jukebox far in the back. Billie Holiday urging into the microphone:

speak
low,

when
you speak love

our
summer day withers away

too
soon…too soon

our
moment is swift like ships adrift

we’re
swept apart too soon…

He turned to see Taro watching him with a bemused
expression.

“This music makes you feel good,
yes?”

“I love Billie Holiday, man.” he
said but his eyes were scanning the room, not paying attention.

Taro leaned in to speak to him. “I
get it very well. I hear what she says, though I don’t know this music
exactly.”

“She’s moaning for us all, for how
fast life is. “Whaaa,” Downy heard himself say and then Taro caught him by the
arm as he fell backward.

“Easy.”

He wobbled unevenly against the
bar. He couldn’t remember seeing the place so clean or crowded. Everyone wore
suits, so he reasoned it must be a party of some sort, and it looked like they
had made room by clearing out lots of things. The boar’s head on the wall was
gone.

“I’m ok. Hey, who are we here for?
You said I’m friends with--”

He looked to the balcony and could
see smoke pouring out of the corner booth.

“I’ll go up first,” Taro said.
“Stay behind me, ok?”

“What’s up there?”

The two men walked silently and
slowly to the top of the stairs. He could see a man in the corner, smoke
rolling out over the balcony, a pair of spectacles just like--

Downy suddenly rushed past Taro.

“Charlie!”

“My dear boy, come and give an old
friend a hug.”

 
He locked
Charlie in a wild embrace, staring intently, shaking almost violently. “I can’t
fucking believe it!”

Charlie away, taking a step back,
locking eyes with Taro. He had seen the look on Charlie’s face before only once
in Cairo when they had been held at gunpoint--raw fear.

“You’ve arrived early,” Taro said
blankly. “Have I given you cause to mistrust me?”

“And you’re right on time as
always, Mr. Taro.”

Downy walked weakly in a circle
around and around looking his friend over in disbelief.

“What the fuck are you doing alive?
How is this?” He squatted to his knees on the floor, putting his hands to the
ground to feel it beneath him. Tears streamed down his face.

“I’m not, Noah--not really.”

“That’s a matter of semantics only
right, Professor Patterson? Isn’t that what you once told me? Tell me how does
that semantic seem now?”

“Noah, I’m beyond sorry for all of
this.”

“Sorry for wh--”

“He would have you believe I am
alive, but he would unleash the dead on the living without a care for what it
might do.”

Downy looked to Taro who crossed
his arms, looking unfazed. Charlie’s gaze hardened.

“I have been living in exile for all
our sakes, as all dead men must, permanent exile.”

“Shouldn’t we all sit down for a
drink Charles?” Taro said politely. “Three of your scotch’s, no?”

Taro slid into a booth in the
corner beckoning them to sit down. A waitress appeared as they sat.

“Hello my dear, could you bring us
three of your best scotch?” Taro said smiling warmly.

“Of course,” the girl said
enthusiastically. “Hey I love your toga!”

Downy heard the comment, but
couldn’t take his eyes away from Charlie.

“Oh and one more thing, could you
bring us a newspaper if there’s one about?”

“Let me check to see. Maybe there’s
one in the back still.” The girl scampered away with a flip of her skirt.

“Have you given him a pill?”

“Of course, it’s the polite thing
to do. You’ll remember you couldn’t be bothered, Charles.”

Downy sat with his hands clenched
on the lip of the table as if he were holding on while the rest of the world
spun around him. His lips moved in a near silent whisper.

“Can somebody please tell me what
the hell is going on? Does he know about Samara?”

He spoke before thinking and
immediately regretted it, even in his altered state.

“What about Samara?”

“She’s de--.” He couldn’t even say
the words. “She’s gone, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”

“You bloody fucking monster you.”

Charlie rose up out of his seat and
reached for Taro, but the waitress appeared with the drinks, so he sat back
down.

“Here ya go gentleman,” she said,
“and here’s today’s paper. War’s almost done they say. Can’t wait for those
boys to come home. I’m so tired of this job, ready for my man to get his ass
home,” she said with an awkward laugh.

“If they surrender tonight this place is going to go off”
she said looking down to the crowded floor below apprehensively.

“That’s perfect, dear, thank you,”
Taro said handing the drinks around the table. “Come now, Charles, we all know
the Samara isn’t in such a bad place really. What is one death when she has so
many to spare?”

“Why have you brought me here?”
Patterson said pounding his fist against the table.

“I’d like to see everyone get back
what they’ve lost Charles and you and I both know what that means.”

“Impossible. I will not. What did
you do to my daughter
you
son of a bitch?”

Taro’s hand shot across the table
gripping Charlie’s throat before he could get out another word. “Do you think
this is a fucking negotiation you insolent little muppet you? I will have my
dignitas
, my honor, and so shall he in
fact.”

Taro had Patterson by the throat
still, now pulling him in closely, almost spitting as he spoke. Downy stood up
unevenly, grabbing Taro’s arm pulling it away. Taro fell back and seemed to
grow calm, closing his eyes.

“It’s as I have always said
Charles, a man never serves his emotions and his best interest simultaneously.
I’m going to let you two get reacquainted and read the newspaper, then we can
talk about what to do next. I’ll just be down at the bar. Please drink to your
heart’s content, on me. Charles is quite the student of history, as you well
know professor, but I’ll let him tell you his own version of events first. I’m
sure it’s accurate, from his perspective at least.”