The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(33)

No. I dont. How are they?

But the Kid seemed lost in thought. Standing with his chinless face folded in one flipper. He shook his head. As if at some ill prospect.

You’re just totally bogus, she said. Dont you think I can see that this is all just for my benefit?

What is?

The introspection. The consulting of some inner self.

Like there aint one I suppose.

Like.

Hmm.

You dont even concern me. You’re just a pain in the ass. You and your entertainments. Your shopworn Chautauquas.

Jesus, Jessica. How about cutting me some slack? It’s not like there’s a playbook here. How about we start over? How about: Hi, come on in. Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa. That sort of thing.

You’re not at home. I dont want you here.

Yeah, but that’s not really the issue. If I wasnt here there wouldnt be this discussion about me being here and whether I’m welcome or not. I thought you were supposed to be this brainiac.

I wish you could listen to yourself.

Dont we all.

How long have you been here?

Not long. You?

I live here.

I sense the quality of the repartee declining. What sort of meds have they got you on, Luscious?

I’m not on any meds if it’s any of your business. I didnt think you were coming back.

Yeah. Just in the nick as it turns out. We thought you might need some time to get acclimated. We had Mr Bones check you out on a twenty-eight day schedule. You were never far from our thoughts. The Bonesrody thought you might have been feeling a bit poorly back in the dog days but we didnt reckon it was anything to worry about. He suspected a bout of the vox populi attended by cramps. Which of course raises the old question of inner ailings and outer and where to draw the line. Always an issue. Not everything malodorous is a memory. Commodeodor in the corridors for instance such as might be found with the spring thaw in the colder latitudes. Farrago North Dakota or some such blighty sink where the mentally defective are wont to pool. Long away and far ago. As it says in the song.

He turned and studied her. Maybe best to not revisit those regimes. Or previsit. Let the cat out of the bag. Catfarts sure to follow, no doubt. Anyway, you shouldnt listen to everything you believe. You’re liable to get hoisted on your own pilchard. How are the computations coming?

Now you expect me to chat gibberish with you I suppose.

I just wondered if you were finding numbers for everything, that’s all.

She had put down her brush and she looked at the closet and she looked at the Kid again. I didnt think you were here by yourself.

Your trouble is you dont know when you’re well off. Someone winds up under the bus and the driver comes to a stop and he stands up and you think he’s going to send for help but then you see that he’s scrolling through the destinations on his roller trying to find some segue from geography to destiny. If you get my meaning.

I dont.

It’s all right. We’ll come back to it later.

Sure we will. I suppose you came on the bus again.

Jesus. Not the bus again. Not suitably dressed, I suppose. Improper bus attire. How did you get here?

I told you. I live here.

Yeah? You told Granny that you wanted to live in the woods with the raccoons and she hauled you off to see Doctor Hard-Dick to have your head examined except that’s not all that got examined is it?

You dont know anything about it. And his name is Doctor Hardwick.

Yeah, whatever.

And you’re here when I’m at school. Going through my papers.

You’re never at school. You’re always playing hooky. Anyway, have you thought about that question?

I know you’ve been reading my diary.

Yeah? I thought I was just some fearful delirium? What happened to that? I guess I should avoid repeating you back to yourself or you’ll claim that I read it in your daybook but let’s just say it was something about a small latterday autoarchon out of the high clavens of dingbatry flapping about in your prenubile boudoir. Well mysteries just abound dont they? Before we mire up too deep in the accusatory voice it might be well to remind ourselves that you cant misrepresent what has yet to occur.

I havent told my brother about you you know.

Yeah? I dont know what I’m supposed to make of that. You dont think he’ll pack you off to Doctor Dickhead? Him and Granny? Word on the street is that your precious Bobby is at best a pudpuller and a wanker nonpareil.

You dont know anything about my brother.

Well, I suppose that’s good. Loyalty. No need to get into the covenants. We can save that for another day.

Sure. You dont think they’re getting restless in there? I hear snuffling.

They know where I am.

I suppose that sooner or later you’ll exhaust your little bag of tricks. What happens then?

Time will tell.

Your shadow moving over the floor as you pass the lamp is a nice touch but I’m not buying it.

Just an elementary observation I suppose. Well, you cant say that we dont try.

Or the fact that you darken a mirror.

Yeah, but can he cloud one?

I dont know. I dont know and I dont care. It’s not germane.

Or Lucy or Mabel. Maybe I should pinch myself.

That’s to see if you’re dreaming.

And that’s not a reasonable inquiry I suppose. Well, we wont sweat it. There’s thornier issues on the table. When are you going back to school? Your grandmother’s not going to call in sick for you forever you know.