We Have To Get Going

"We ought to be moving," said Doc once we were a little ways away from the Church. Brigitte was on my right, and Doc hovered near my left ear. He spoke quietly. He always spoke quietly. Since that day, I've learned that when they first invented Octopi, they called them "spiders," and they didn't float, they walked and they could stick to walls and ceilings. People hated them.

Doc always wants to be moving on. He was the one who suggested I come here in the first place.

"Where are we supposed to be moving on to?" I asked. "And when?" Brigitte looked up at me but didn't say anything right away; she recognized, even after a few days, when I was talking to Doc and not her. She didn't take my hand, either, even though I wanted her to do so, because we were in public. It was all right that I stayed with her for a few days, because I was (she told everyone) a cousin from New York. Pretending I was her cousin made it even sexier when we made out, she told me. I didn't know what to make of that then, and I don't now.

I wish I could Share with Brigitte. She's told me about Sharing and I don't know why I can't but I can't. It would be beautiful, to be lying naked next to her and able to feel her long legs against my own while our hands intertwine and caress... and we get to Share, too. I would love that.

"Today," said Doc. "And East." He answered out of order, I noticed. I must have gotten a look on my face, because he played a little bit of music, directing the sound waves towards my ear so that only I could hear it, a song I particularly liked and that was bouncy and happy and made me feel a little better, already.

"I want to go with you," said Brigitte. "How'd you... never mind." She might not have heard Doc, but she had heard me. I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes. "Why?" I asked her.

"Because I love you," said Brigitte. "And because I want to protect you from whatever it is you dream about at night," she said "When you're tossin' and turnin' and sweatin' but not in a good way."

When I dream at night, I dream of Hell. And after listening to Reverend Tommy, I wasn't so sure it was dreams.

"And because I'm pregnant."

I stared at her.

"I thought you said you were a virgin," I pointed out to her. We were almost to our apartment, the little rooms above the restaurant where she worked. When we'd first made love, that first day, she'd said she'd never done that before and that nobody had ever touched her, down there, before. She'd said that just after I'd raised my head up and kissed her, let her taste herself before she tasted me.

"I am. I was. You're the only person I've ever been with."


It was impossible for her to be telling the truth about all of that. I started to reach out for her.

We got in site of the restaurant and our apartment and I saw, waiting for us, Reverend Tommy.

And I saw what he didn't see, which were the revenants behind him. I usually only saw them in my dreams.

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