The Painting (7 page)

“A cigarette,” Donny interrupted.

Reginald stuck his bottom lip out and lifted his shoulders.

“You’ve got H.P. Sauce but you don’t have cigarettes? Jesus, Sara and I would have no trouble starting up a business round here.”

“Sara’s your wife?”

“Girlfriend,” Donny said, a lump in his throat. “I was… I was going to propose to her when all this novel stuff was sorted. She’s always pestering me to straighten the cushions and tidy up so I was going to get this nice little place and mess everything up… let her be angry but have a ring stuffed underneath one of the cushions. But, yeah. I guess I’ve got other priorities right now.”

Reginald shook his head and poured another glass of orange juice for them both. Outside, Donny could hear the birds singing songs they’d never had the chance to learn in his world. So much inspiration—a creative dream.

“When am… when am I?”

Reginald flicked his eyebrows upwards as he washed his mouth with orange juice. “You’re whenever you were when you fell through the gap. Time, it… time’s one of the things that doesn’t change. At least, not that we know about.”

Donny rubbed his temples.
When am I?
In what world had he ever envisioned himself asking that question? Evidently not this one. “How do I get back?”

Reginald took a sip of the orange juice and exhaled. His eyes didn’t meet Donny’s for longer than a brief moment.

“You might as well be honest with—”

“It’s not quite as simple as just getting back,” Reginald said. “There is a way to get back through the gaps, but the papers I showed you, they were from before.”

Donny shuffled in his chair. “Before what?”

Reginald sighed and flattened his palms on the table. “Before the men in green suits came through a gap. What they did to our people—massacre, torture. Daniel Crawford—our, um, prime minister—he was already looking for an excuse to take action against them. He started getting people paranoid; accusing the fallout—ah, you, you’re the fallout—of waging war against our people.”

“A witch hunt,” Donny muttered.

Reginald disregarded his comment. “After that, it wasn’t as easy as just ‘going back’. I mean, it’s never been easy. It relies on… on remembering certain aspects of the gap on the other side. Pinpointing key discrepancies and… and discontinuities in everyday reality in order to attempt to locate the gap. A lot of the people who come through, they forget things. They’re always linked to a gap—there’s always some sort of way back—but they forget things. Remembering… that wasn’t a common occurrence.”

The painting, the boys. Tap tap tap.

“So what happened to the ones who stayed?”

“Oh, well most of them took some time to adjust themselves to a new life and started from scratch. It’s not easy, of course it’s not, but it was easier in the early days, before the prison camps and… and the cleansing.”

Donny’s insides rumbled, a combination of the seemingly unnatural amount of food he’d been eating and the things he was hearing. “But why? I mean… they’re just people. We’re just people.”

Reginald leaned further back in the chair. “Try telling Daniel Crawford that. No, he wanted blood. He… he blamed the gaps on your world. Said it was some sort of construction so they could steal our people for experimentation. Until the last gap was closed, people followed his word, but there’s still the occasional scaremongering headline from time to time.”

Donny shook his head. “But what happened to the ones who were in the camps?”

Reginald sipped the last of his orange juice. “The last fallout died two years ago. Since then, there have been no concrete reports of new fallout. But I—we kept on believing. You’re just lucky I found you and nobody else did. If the gap had opened in the city centre, you’d be front page news right now, and for all the wrong reasons.” He slipped his sleeve up and revealed a small, metallic square on the inside of his arm. “You’re risking as it is without being chipped. If you’re thinking about running away, don’t bother. You’re in the safest place you can possibly be right now.”

“Chipped?”

Reginald tutted as if chipping was common knowledge. “Chips. In the arm.” He pointed again to the tiny grey patch above his wrist. “A way of keeping people safe—or a way of segregating you from our people, depending on your standpoint.”

Donny’s head spun as the information echoed in his skull. “What do I… what do I do? About getting back?”

Reginald intertwined his fingers. “What do you remember about the time before you fell through the gap? Any weird happenings? You—you mentioned a house before. You mentioned a woman. What happened?”

Donny shook his head.
The painting, the figures, tap tap tap.
“There was a painting. It… and there were six silhouetted figures on it and they were gradually getting closer—bigger—in the painting.’

“What was in the painting?”

“Erm, trees. Trees with autumn leaves. And there were boys in the house—boys, tapping the air. There… was a dead mouse, and some weird noises.”

“What about a woman? Was there a woman?” Reginald was tensing his fist, his jaw muscles sticking out at the sides.

“I…” He looked at Reginald. His eyes were bloodshot, flicking up to a photograph on the wall. Reginald and a woman, smiling on the top of a hill. “How do you know I came through the gap?”

Reginald blinked his watery eyes and scoffed. “Well, because you… you said about a house and—and weird events. You said about—”

“No, I didn’t say anything like that. I could easily have just been a mad person roaming the streets. You… you knew I was from the gap because… Manny Bates. You knew her, didn’t you?”

Reginald looked around the kitchen, unable to hold eye contact with Donny.

The tension welled up inside Donny’s chest. “You knew her, didn’t you? And—and when I mentioned her, you didn’t… you didn’t report me to the police because it gave you hope, didn’t it? Didn’t it?”

Reginald’s silence and shaking chin said it all. He stared over at the wall, over at the photograph.

“She was your wife, wasn’t she?”

Reginald reached for his glass and lifted it to his mouth even though there was no orange juice left inside.

“It was on walking trip eleven months ago,” Reginald said, his arms laid out in front of him. He could barely look Donny in the eye as he spoke. “Me and her, we used to like our walking. We used—we used to go hiking all the time; go exploring the forest. I s’pose you could say it was our pastime.”

Donny listened attentively as Reginald continued to speak.

“I went down, down this path and towards the lake. Absolutely beautiful day, it was. Manny was in this little log cabin just up the hill, smiling away like she always was no doubt. I call out to her, ‘Manny, come down here and look at this,’ and she doesn’t reply. I turn round and… and she’s gone. Completely gone.”

Donny shuffled in his chair. “What made you so sure that it was… a gap?”

“I went up to the cabin. Obviously I didn’t think much of it at first. I just think she’s gone for a wander, or she’s fooling about or something. It’s the last thing you worry about, really. We had much more fallout come through the gaps than disappearances from our place, and like everyone else, I truly thought they’d closed all the gaps.” He rubbed his hands against his knees, his chin shaking. “But then I look on the ground just as I’m walking out the cabin and I see… I see this ring, staring up at me, smoke around it. I reach down and pick it up and it’s hot to touch, y’know? It’s hot to touch. And then all of a sudden, I remember the news report of young Tommy Baker who went missing a few years back and… Well, I guess I just know.”

The pair of them were silent for a few minutes. Poor guy—out and about with his missus one day and then, nothing. That said, he wasn’t much different from himself, but at least Donny had a chance, didn’t he? Some sort of chance?

“I’m sorry… about your wife. I really am. But—”

“I’m assuming from the fact that you were staying in her house that she isn’t with us anymore?”

Donny gulped and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Instead of remorse, Reginald’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you. For eleven months I’ve… I’ve just wanted to know that I’m not completely insane, and now—thanks to you—now I know.’

The birds sang their unique songs outside as the sun began to heat up the kitchen. He had to ask him. He had to find out how to get back. If there was a way, he had to go. He’d helped Reginald—now it was Reginald’s turn to get him home.

“I don’t… I don’t mean to sound rude or anything like that, but you mentioned that… that there was a way of getting ba—”

“I’ve been waiting so, so long,” Reginald said. “I went to the authorities so often to tell them that a gap had opened but I had no real proof other than my wife’s disappearance. Do you know what they said to me? Do you, hmm? They said she’d probably done a runner. They said there was more of a chance she’d done a runner than falling through a gap. They—” He shifted his head to the side and stopped talking, gulping back the tears.

“I know. I… I’m sorry I don’t have better news about your wife. It’s just—”

“I was just waiting for someone like you, Donny. Waiting for someone like you to prove to them that I wasn’t mad all along.” He licked his chapped lips, the scraggy hair on his head reflecting the sun with its greasy coating. There was something different in his eyes—a shift in his entire demeanor.

“Well, now you know. I need your help. If… if your wife fell through that gap and she’s somehow linked to me, then maybe that’s my key out of here. The gaps—you say that if the person remembers things they can go back through them. Then maybe I can go back. I… I remember things. Maybe I can… I can find some things out about your wife’s time in my world. Maybe… maybe I can get some sort of help.”

Reginald shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? The only way you’re leaving this house is with me to go to the authorities. I need—I need to prove it to them. I need to prove it to them that—that I was right.”

Donny’s body tensed up against the back of the chair. “But I thought—”

“I’ve waited for months and months and months and months and months for a—a sign. A sign that I’m not insane.” His voice grew more disjointed as he gesticulated and waved his arms. “I—I waited for so long. And now, now you just want to leave, hmm? You just want to leave? You’re just like the rest. Just like the rest—selfish.” He stood up from the table, the chair falling backwards as he rose. “Come here. Just come here and we can get this done with.”

Donny jumped out of his chair and backed away from Reginald, his heart pounding. Reginald pulled a white cloth out of his pocket and walked towards him.
Not again.
“Listen, I understand,” Donny said. “I understand how hard it must be to—”

“You’ve no idea how hard it must be,” Reginald shouted. “You—you’ve no idea. You’ve had it easy. You’ve no idea at all how bad it hurts.” He lunged for Donny, who backed up to the kitchen wall, missing his face with the cloth by a matter of inches.

But he had him where he wanted him, against a wall, cornered. Donny grabbed Reginald’s arm as he tried to force the cloth further into his face, baring his teeth, the vein in his head almost bursting with tension.

“Reginald, you don’t have to do this. I have a girlfriend too. I have a home and I’m… I’m just like you. I’ve just—I’ve just fallen into this place by accident and—” The cloth edged further towards his mouth. He could smell the medicinal tang as it waved in his face. “And all I’m asking for—please—is your help. Please.”

Reginald kept on pushing and Donny held his ground, their arms shaking like opposite sides of magnets battling one another. Reginald’s eyes were bloodshot and wild as he salivated like a rabid dog.
This could not be happening. This could not be fucking happening.
Sara, the book… the book didn’t matter. He just wanted to get home. He’d get any job or career she wanted him to. He just wanted to be with her again. He just wanted to get out.

Reginald let out a cry and fell to his knees. The chloroform cloth dropped beside him as he curled his head into his hands.

Donny remained pinned to the wall. He thought about reaching down for Reginald—patting him on the back and telling him it was going to be okay—but he had no idea what frame of mind the man was in. Instead, he shifted slowly from the wall and stepped on the cloth of chloroform, making sure it was out of Reginald’s reach.

After what felt like hours in silence, Reginald spoke.

“I just want her back,” he said, sniffing and sobbing into his hands. “I—I just want her back.”

Donny swallowed the lump in his throat and reached down for Reginald. He patted him on the back, which made him flinch initially, but soon he let him rest his hand there. “I know,” he said. “I know. I want the same as you. I just want my Sara back, and… and I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through but you’re the only one who can help me. But we… we don’t have to rush. We can—we can wait here for however long you need.”

Reginald sniffed and tapped his forehead against the floor as Donny patted his back, the roughness of his jumper tickling his hand.

Above the fireplace, a picture of a smiling Reginald squeezed up to Manny Bates, wrapped up in warm clothing on a mountaintop, stared down at them.

“So you’ll help me then?”

Reginald sat on the chair opposite Donny, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Donny could see that he was struggling; battling with his conscience and motives. But he’d managed to get him in the chair. He’d managed to comfort him and get him in the chair. That was something.

“It’s not easy,” Reginald said, reluctance in his voice.

“I… I get that. And I do appreciate your reasons for not wanting to help, I really do. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me so far. But please—I just need to know what I have to do. You don’t have to come with me. You just have to tell me what I have to do next.”

Reginald scoffed. “If I don’t come with you, the second they see you’re not chipped, you’re in line for a public execution.” He shook his head and slumped back. “This house,” he said. “This house you went to—the house my wife was staying in. You mentioned a painting. What was on that painting?”