Later on I went with Skitter to one of his friends, but they weren't there so he pried open the door and we made out for 3 hours and it was really sexy being in somebody else's house.
"Jenny, you are so crude. You take my mom's waking up and twist it into something about you. You had nothing to do with it, and as for Skitter and other people's houses, he was a real perv and went out of his way to do it in cool places like the changing room at Le Chateau, which, I have to admit, was a real turn-on."
December 26, 1997
Megan and I are friends again, and to show it she invited me to a party down at Lois's and I got to see KAREN for the first time close-up. She was so scary looking—like she was anorexic to the point of death and it's so sick to think of Richard and her making it. Ick-o-rama. Maybe Richard'll wait a few months until she puts some meat on. She looked at me like she knew my secrets or something. She's just really really creepy.
Returned most of my Christmas presents today. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I could really use the cash to buy the tool kit Skitter keeps talking about. His birthday's next week.
"I'm not even going to dignify your comments about my sacred mother by replying to your adolescent filth. And as for Skitter, hey, itlooks like you're falling into his 'buy-me-something-or-I-leave-you' act. Sucker."
December 27, 1997
Bought Skitter's tool kit, but it was so expensive I nearly freaked out and I had to go sit and hyperventilate for fifteen minutes afterward in the Subway sandwich place and then I ate too much.
"The Remora" and her Mom and Lois were on TV and they looked way better than they do in real life, and Megan looked like such a goody-two-shoes and you never would have known to look at her that she did Warren and Brent on the SAME NIGHT last year at the Burnside Park party.
"That does it, Jenny—you are no longer my friend. One of the best days of my life, and then you go and hang out with me the next day as if you hadn't put all this crap into your diary!" She pauses and breathes. "I miss you."
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 eyes—crazy 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 now—gee, 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 stinks—when 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. No—I 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 this—I'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 this—is 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 natural—no 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."