White Apples (22 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Carroll

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Magical Realism

BOOK: White Apples
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Ettrich became defensive, his voice shrill. "It materialized in the elevator, Coco. The car had stopped between floors and suddenly there was a giant rat two feet away that spoke to me in my own voice. He knew things about me no one could know. What was I supposed to think? That someone was playing a trick on me?
Pretty good fucking trick.
He said he was the dead me."

"How could he be the dead
you
if he was a rat?" She looked at him as if he didn't know the answer to two plus two.

A moment passed that weighed a few hundred pounds. Then Ettrich surprised himself by abruptly laughing out loud. He remem•bered a line from someone famous about how when things got so bad you either laughed or went crazy. "I don't understand anything anymore. Nothing, not one thing. Since the night I saw that tattoo on your neck, everything in my life has gone nuts."

"Well, Mr. Ettrich, we're about to fix that. I'm going to show you everything you need to know." She downshifted and took a left. The car shot forward into the fast lane. "And when you see what it's all about, it's going to scare the shit out of you."

Ettrich closed his eyes. "Thank you. That's what I wanted to hear. Just what I need right now. So where are we going, to hell?" "No—to the zoo. Isabelle is there waiting for you."

They drove in silence. Which surprised Ettrich because he was sure Coco would want to know more about his meeting with Alan Wales, but she didn't. He wanted to tell her about how the rat had vanished when the elevator reached the floor where Jack's doctor was and didn't reappear again until after the boy had been dropped at his mother's house. He wanted to describe the other things the rat had said, the secrets it had known about him. Ettrich wanted Coco to hear this story and then tell him what it all meant. But she didn't want to hear. She drove her little sports car through the streets and slapped his hand away when he tried to turn on the radio.

He crossed his hands in his lap and looked at the dashboard. In contrast to this perfectly kept car, a big hole gaped where the cigarette lighter should have been. And there was no gearshift knob.

When they stopped at a traffic light, he saw a woman waiting to cross the street. She was small, almost ugly, and dressed in shape•less clothes the color of old fruit. When he saw her, the first thing that crossed Ettrich's mind was "no man will ever try to make that woman laugh." No man would ever show off for her, try to impress her, or try and convince her he was worth dating.

A few blocks further on, he saw a very beautiful woman stand•ing at a bus stop. They made eye contact at about the same time but she looked away and didn't look again at him. Women never looked back. He had realized that years ago. It was one of his small epiphanies. If a man passed a beautiful woman on the street, chances were he would stop, turn around, and look at her again. But women never looked back.

Over the
rummm
of the engine, Coco said "Her name is Alice Hooper." "Alice Cooper?"

"Hooper.
That woman you were just looking at; the one in the black coat."

He rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. The car motor was so loud that he almost couldn't hear the sound of his palms sliding against each other. "You know everything, don't you, Coco? You probably know the answer to every question I have."

"Probably."

"Then why don't you enlighten me to what the fuck has been going on in my life these last few days?"

She smiled but ignored his question. "You know what I
don't
understand, Vincent? Human love. Just when it starts making sense to me, something happens and I'm confused again."

"What's not to understand?"

It appeared she was going to say more but then she shook her head. "Forget it. We're here." She turned left and a block down pulled into the parking lot of the city zoo. Ettrich knew the place well because he had been bringing his kids here for years. It was a run-down place that should have been renovated years ago if for no other reason than humane purposes. The cages were too small, the keepers were at best desultory in keeping the place clean, and the only time you ever saw people there was on weekends and holidays. Even little Jack had once asked, "How come the animals all look so sad, Daddy?" Ettrich felt like saying anyone who had to live here would look sad.

Coco paid for their tickets and walked through the large arched front gates. Somewhere one of the animals let out a long, loud bellow that sounded frightening and weary at the same time. Coco walked fast through the place, obviously knowing her destination.

"It feels strange being here without my kids." "You never go to the zoo by yourself?"

Her question stopped Ettrich for a moment. "No. I'm not a big
National Geographic
kind of guy. Why would I want to come here?"

"Because zoos are holy places, Vincent. I'm surprised you haven't recognized that yet. What with all of the other things you brought back from death."

"Holy? What do you mean?"

"Animals are on earth to protect mankind. When you gather a bunch of them together like this, you create a safe haven. Nothing can touch you here."

"Bullshit! A year ago a lion mauled a kid here when he got too close to its cage."

"Because he taunted the lion. Never taunt your guardians. I could give you ten examples of children falling into animals' cages and being protected by them."

"I don't believe that."

"You don't have to. Watch and see."

Something else came to him. "If they're here to protect us and these are such holy places, why do animals always look so sad at zoos?"

"Because they hate being kept captive. But they've chosen to sacrifice their freedom so that people can be safe." Eventually they came to a large open yard that fronted the elephant house.

It was covered in what appeared to be red clay. Ettrich had been here often but for the first time realized that the space re•minded him of a baseball field.

Because there were no bars to contain them, at first glance it appeared that the elephants could come right over. But as you got closer, you saw that there was a very deep and wide trench sur•rounding the space. If an animal went beyond a certain point, it would have fallen in and likely been hurt or killed.

Ettrich followed Coco to a chest-high stone wall that marked the boundary. They stood there listening to the odd and exotic zoo sounds around them. The crowing, screeching, growling, bellowing that is so normal and at the same time ominous at a zoo.

"Did your friend Alan Rat tell you about the mosaic?"

"He started to, but I didn't really understand what he was talk•ing about." "That's no surprise. What did he say?"

Ettrich was about to answer when he heard the unmistakable trumpeting of an elephant. One of the weird delights of a zoo— the sounds that are so familiar from television and films are real here but it's almost impossible to believe. He looked up in time to see a baby elephant come trotting out of the building, its trunk high in the air, its small eyes wide open and... happy. The little guy looked like he was having fun. Blowing its horn again, it kept run•ning across the yard. Then Isabelle walked out of the same doorway, laughing. She stopped when she saw them, waved, and kept laugh•ing. Behind her, a giant shadow loomed a moment and then turned into an adult elephant that looked as big as a helicopter. Without turning around, Isabelle reached behind and patted the helicopter on the trunk. It moved its head a twitch and gave her a good shove forward. She laughed again. The baby stood a few feet away from Coco and Ettrich staring at them.

"What is Isabelle doing in there?"

"Visiting Fiona and April. Fiona's the mother."

"But how did she get into the elephant house, or whatever you call it?"

"You'll see. That's where we're going now."

"I don't like elephants, Coco. They trample things." "These two big girls are very nice. Didn't you see Isabelle laugh•ing? Come on."

They walked a wide circle around the elephant yard. Ettrich kept his eye on his love because he was worried one of the pachy•derms would knock her over or step on her or eat her or something else not nice. In contrast, Isabelle took Fiona's trunk in her two hands and brought it to her face. The elephant did not appear to mind.

"Didn't you even once notice the rat was wearing lipstick?" Ettrich stopped and put his hands on his hips. "You told me you didn't see him as a rat. You saw him as something else."

"I just went back and relived it through your eyes. How could you not notice that it was wearing lipstick? It was mocking you, Vincent. Here's something you must know and don't forget it— animals never lie. They don't lie, they don't put on disguises, and they are always true to what they are. That's why you can trust them."

"Excuse me, Coco, but I do not trust lions. Or elephants or snakes—

"Because you want them to be the creatures you imagined as a child. Lions should be the strong but sweet beasts in a Disney car•toon. But they aren't, so when they act like lions you're angry at them for not being the fantasy animals you imagined. Russian bears don't put on top hats and ride unicycles. Or sleep in bed next to Goldilocks.
People
force them to do those stupid things in circuses and films and children's books. Sure, some will be more docile or more ferocious than others, but in the end they will always, always be bears. And you never should turn your back on them. You should never even get near them; it's that simple. They're not being dis•honest—
you
are in your perception of them."

Ettrich looked worriedly at Isabelle. "If that's true, shouldn't I be afraid for her in there now?"

"Yes, you should. But generally speaking, Fiona and April like people so you don't have to be
too
worried." They continued walking and Ettrich had to ask, "So if the rat wasn't the dead me, who was it?"

Coco didn't stop. "It's what I just said to you—animals never lie, so when you bump into a big talking rat you can be sure it's lying."

"I'll remember that next time. But then what was it? It must have been something that knew me because it said all these things—

Coco sucked in her cheeks, deliberating on whether to give a long or a short answer. "It was chaos, Vincent. And I'm going to explain all that in a minute so just hold on. Chaos is not your friend. It knows lots and lots about you but it is definitely not your friend."

While that thought tumbled around and around in his brain, he followed Coco into the elephant house. The first thing that hit him was the odor of the place. It was neither good nor bad but hugely alien; it was an aroma his nose

couldn't have imagined in a million years. He couldn't remember if it had smelled like this the last time he'd been in this building a few months before. Jack liked elephants and always wanted to see them when he visited the zoo. The inside of the building was as big as a school gymnasium. Thick, closely spaced floor-to-ceiling metal bars separated visitors from the animals. There were signs posted everywhere to stay back behind the yellow line painted on the floor. Coco walked over to the cage door. She opened it with a long key she had in her pocket.

Ettrich was incredulous. "We're going
in
there?"

"Yes, you have to. Come on." She walked in and didn't look back. He followed but made sure the door was as wide open as it could be in case he had to run out of there for whatever reason. Vincent Ettrich was used to checking for exits. He was good at escaping, both physically and otherwise. He had to be, considering his history of romantic entanglements.

Coco walked to the center of the room. She turned to face him and once again began explaining the concept of the mosaic. It was a strange place for a theology lesson. Her voice echoed off the walls. The smell of the place and the awareness of what lived there kept distracting Ettrich from what she was saying. No one came into the building while she spoke, which in itself was strange because the elephant house was usually packed on weekends. Ettrich didn't com•ment on this because he was sure something weird was being done to keep them away. Even Isabelle and the two elephants stayed outside while Coco got down on her knees and, bringing out a handful of tiles, dropped them on the cement floor. "Come down here, Vincent. I want you to do something."

At the beginning of her explanation he kept looking around, convinced that any minute something was going to happen. Or someone was going to come in and ask what the hell are you two doing in here? At the very least, the elephants would return and with good reason want to know what these human beings were doing in their home, pushing small colored tiles around on the floor.

But all that changed when the mosaic Ettrich created rose into the air and exploded out in all directions. Then he was mesmerized, as Isabelle had been hours before. Interestingly, he understood im•mediately almost everything that followed. Even Coco was surprised when right at the beginning of her explanation he nodded and said simply, "I know. I know all of this."

Taken aback, she started to protest. Then she remembered where he had been. Her face relaxed and she murmured, "Of course you do." She finished quickly, answering whatever questions he had and clarifying a few details here and there.

"Yes, okay, all that I understand. But tell me why I was brought back. Why am I here?"

Coco walked out into the middle of the room, into the middle of that frozen confetti of tiles hanging motionless in the air. Turning to Ettrich, she raised both hands palms up, looked left, right, up, and down. Tiles surrounded her. "One of these is you, Vincent, as you know. One is Isabelle, and— " Without looking, she reached above her and plucked a white tile from its place. Bringing it down to chin level, she held it out toward him. "One of them is chaos. Let's say this white one. Chaos has always been a part of God's mosaic and always will be, no matter what form the mosaic takes or how many times it re-forms."

Ettrich looked at the tile in her open palm and thought it re•sembled a little white apple.

"But like everything else, chaos is different in every new mosaic. This time it has become conscious." The apple disappeared in her hand when she closed her fingers around it. "Before now, chaos was always just an unthinking force, like nature. When a tornado strikes and kills people on the left side of the street but not the right, that has nothing to do with a conscious decision; it's simply because that energy happened to move one way and not the other. Tornadoes don't think; they don't hate or love or reflect. They're weather and weather is a force. And until now, so was chaos. It just
was,
another element.

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