A wall glows golden, and then I appear from within a mirror.
"Oh," Megan says, "it's you."
"Such a warm reception, Megan. Do you get many visitors from the dead every day?"
"Go away. You're probably not even a real ghost. You're probably something cheesy way down the food chain, like a sprite or a wisp."
"Me? A sprite? I think not."
"Go away. Go say 'boo' to people, Casper."
"What did I ever do to bug you so much?"
"If you're such a big ghost, why don't you take me away from this slag heap of a world and on to someplace better?"
"Because I personally can't do that."
"Just as I thought. You're a sprite. Go twinkle somewhere else. Don't bug me, transparent loser."
"Whoa, man! What's with this angry little stance? Don't you want to see a miracle or something?"
"I've had enough miracles for one lifetime, thank you."
I change subjects: "Your baby's pretty. How old?"
"Six months."
"Why did you name her Jane?"
"Jane seemed like the name of somebody who never has a damaged life. Janes are always calm, cool, and up to date."
"Nice eyes."
"They're Skitter's eyescrazy eyes. They're blind. Hamilton said that looking at Janie's eyes was like looking at a full moon and then realizing that it's just one day short of being truly full. That was before we figured out she was blind."
"Hamilton's been saying stuff like that since kindergarten. I knew him and your father my whole life."
"You at least had some friends. I don't even have one anymore. I miss Jenny real bad." She hands me a wad of Jenny's CD's and says, "Want a CD collection? Lots of dance mixes."
"No thanks."
"Go away."
"What's wrong, Megan?"
"I said go away."
"Are you lonely?"
"No!"
"You can tell me if you are. Do you miss Jenny?"
"That treacherous scag bag?"
"Yes, that treacherous scag bag."
Megan stays silent for a minute and I give her all the time she needs. "I miss her. I'm lonely. I want to change the subject."
"To what?"
"I dunno. You choose."
"Fair enough. Let me ask you a small question: Tell me, what is it like to be living in the world the way it is now?"
"That's a small question?"
"Well, it's a good question. Give it a shot."
"You sprites just never quit. Okay. Let me think." She doses Jenny's diary and leans back against the wall, Jane on the bed by her side. "The world right nowgee, Jared, it's one party after another.Funzies. Ooh. I'm having so much fun it hurts." She feigns stitches. "What do you think, bozo? Every day is like Sunday. Nothing ever happens. We watch videos. Read a few books. Cook food that comes out of boxes or cans. No fresh food. The phone never rings. Nothing ever happens. No mail. The sky stinkswhen everybody died, they left the reactors and factories running. It's amazing we're still even here."
"Were you surprised when the world ended?"
Megan pulls her body up into a more comfortable position on the bed. "Yes. No. NoI wasn't. It was kind of like the whole world went into a coma. I'm used to that. I'm not saying that to make you pity me. It's just the truth." She lights one of Jenny's year-old cigarettes. "Still tastes menthol fresh. Did you ever smoke?"
"Me? No. I was a jock."
"You're kind of cute. Did you ever make it with anybody?"
"Here and there. Why are you curious?"
"There's kind of a cute guy shortage down here."
I come closer and see Megan more clearly: pink windburnt skin, eye whites clear as ringing chimes. "Do you ever" I say, not finishing the sentence.
"Wait," Megan says, "Are you hitting on me?"
"Me? What?" I've been caught.
"You are! I don't believe thisI'm being hit on by the dead." Jane squawks; Megan gives her a bottle of formula and a yanks small cotton bunny from the pack. "Look, Mr. Ghost"
"Jared."
"Whatever. This isn't the time or place. I'm flattered, but no. I prefer real meat."
"lean take a hint."
Megan folds up Jenny's diary with a snap, then looks at me. "So how come we were abandoned here? Why us?"
"There's a reason."
"Which ?"
"Oh, God. I can't tell you right now." "You're pulling a Karen. Stupid sprite.""Oh, grow up."
" You, a sixteen-year-old telling me to grow up. Ha. So then tell me thisis there anybody else left down here besides us? Karen said there wasn't, but I'm not so sure."
"Karen's only allowed a few facts, but those she has are always true."
"I was right! Linus kept on trying to ham-radio weird places like oil rigs in the middle of the Indian Ocean and scientists at the South Pole. Now he owes me a bucket of Krugerrands."
"A bucket of gold?"
"It's a joke really. There's so much gold it's silly. We huck it off of bridges. We have money fights. Money's over."
"I guess so."
"Hey, Jared, what's heaven like?"
"Heaven? Heaven's like the world at its finest. It's all naturalno buildings. It's built of stars and roots and mud and flesh and snakes and birds. It's built of clouds and stones and rivers and lava. But it's not a building. It's greater than the material world."
"Well. Isn't that something. Do people get lonely there?"
"No."
"Then it really is heaven." We're quiet for a second as I stand close to her. "Sorry I can't take up your offer, Stud Boy. It's not like I get many others."
"I know." I slap my forehead: "HeyI need to go now. I liked speaking with you."
"No. Don't goyou're somebody new."
"Here," I say. "Hold Jane out to me."
"Why?"
"You'll see." Her arms are like a set rat trap ready to spring back in case I do something weird, which I don't. I breathe gently into each of Jane's eyes and then I touch my tongue to the space between her eyes. I am the first thing she sees on Earth. "Your kid is whole. She's more than wholeshe's a genius; she'll be wise. And you are now her servant."
Speechless, Megan watches as I shrink into nothing and disappear.
29 INFINITY IS ARTIFICIAL
There are things I miss about Earth. I loved the way my mother made a pork roast and I loved getting up in the mornings super early and being the first to see the sun, jogging around the neighborhood in nothing more than terry underwear knowing that everybody else was sleeping. Once in summer 1978 I ran my daily jog naked and if anybody saw me, they never phoned the cops. Even more than sex, that solitary jog remains my most potent body memory of Earththe air and the sun and the pads of my feet landing on Rabbit Lane. What else? Oh, there was an owl that lived in the tree behind the house. Its roost was bang outside my window and each night around sunset it came out and swooped its long floppy wingslike an Afghan hound's ears. It used to fly into Karen's yard on the hill below mine and catch mice. I used to watch Mrs. McNeil feed it meat scraps but she never saw me, but I know for sure Mrs. McNeil was watching me quite clearly the summer afternoon before eleventh grade when I was mowing the back lawn in my red Speedo. Saucy old broad! I popped a rod and I know she noticed it.
Regrets? I have no regrets about life. I didn't live long enough to make a mess of it. But then I never really had any pictures in my head of adulthood. Had I made it that far I probably would have floundered like the rest of the gang.
I've been watching my friends over the past year or soever since Karen woke up. Karen can't remember, but she was with me for much of the time she was in her coma. She receives her 'extra' information in the same way I doin fits and snatches that make no sense at the time, filled with maddeningly blank stretches.