The Seep by Chana Porter

Author:Chana Porter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2019-11-07T00:46:12+00:00

“He gives me the willies,” said Pina slowly. “Am I saying that right? He makes my skin feel creepy-crawly. I don’t like it.”

“Me too, Pina, my dear,” said Trina. “Me too.”

Pina frowned. “I’m not a deer, I’m a bear.” Then she smiled, a horrifying display of glistening teeth. “I made a joke. Get it?”

11.

Trina discovered Horizon would be playing the next night at The Go-Go, one of Trina’s favorite venues from the old days. She registered for the 11 a.m. high-speed bullet train to Detroit. Eventually, Pina put away her mop with a bang and growled at Trina to call it a night. Last call had been hours ago, and YD was probably long asleep.

Trina lightly knocked on YD’s bedroom door and crawled in next to her. It felt nice to lie next to a smelly, snoring body. She wasn’t worried about finding Horizon and the boy. It was easy enough to find someone. But that didn’t mean you could get them to do what you wanted or even understand what you were trying to say. Talking was easy. Communication was hard. She thought back to the gun, her destroyer of worlds. Maybe the time for talking was over. If she shot Horizon Line, he wouldn’t really be dead. No one ever died, she now knew, they just became something else. Still. That was the logic of a sociopath. If she shot Horizon Line, the person she’d really be killing was herself, her old self. She’d no longer be Trina, the person who would never fire a gun at someone. She thought again about how Deeba wouldn’t recognize her now, unkempt and rugged, leather jacket smelling of old beer. If she killed Horizon Line, she’d be killing Deeba’s wife. Was that an act she was ready to commit?

Next to her, YD shifted and yawned. “All that drinking is ruining your sleep,” she said pleasantly.

“I know, momma.” Trina could hear the revelers leaving the club down the street, ready to stumble to their beds. “YD,” she said quietly. “When are you going to die?”

YD reached under the sheet and found Trina’s hand. She gave it a squeeze. “Not anytime soon, shayna punim.”

“Living on and on while everyone you love changes . . . Doesn’t that make you sad?”

YD scoffed. “You people, you think happiness is the only important thing about being alive. I’m serious when I say I’m not interested in happiness. This old body hurts. That’s as worthy an experience as any.”

Sounds of laughter came up from the street, mixed with off-tune singing of something like “L’Internationale.”

“I am interested in death, though. I think it’s going to be a grand adventure. I hope I get to stay dead, at least for a little while, before I become something else. I’ve heard there’s a whitish period, and then everything turns red, and then you sink into lovely blackness.” She laughed and flicked Trina’s leg. “Now go to sleep.”

Trina was still thinking about death’s colors when sleep welled up and pulled her under.

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