Anansi Boys

She went back to her desk, went to the Police internal Web site, and examined her options for several hours. Finally, she went home. Carol was sitting in front of Coronation Street, eating a microwavable chicken korma.

“I’m taking a break,” said Daisy. “I’m going on holiday.”

“You don’t have any holiday time left,” pointed out Carol reasonably.

“Too bad,” said Daisy. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“Oh. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to catch a crook,” said Daisy.

Fat Charlie liked Caribbeair. They might have been an international airline, but they felt like a local bus company. The flight attendant called him “darlin’ “ and told him jus’ to sit anywhere that struck his fancy.

He stretched out across three seats and went to sleep. In Fat Charlie’s dream he was walking beneath copper skies and the world was silent and still. He was walking toward a bird, vaster than cities, its eyes aflame, its beak agape, and Fat Charlie walked into the beak and down the creature’s throat.

Then, in the way of dreams, he was in a room, its walls covered with soft feathers and with eyes, round like the eyes of owls, which did not blink.

Spider was in the center of the room, his legs and arms extended. He was held up by chains made of bone, like the bones of a chicken’s neck, and they ran from each corner of the room, and held him tightly, like a fly in a web.

Oh, said Spider. It’s you.

Yes, said Fat Charlie in his dream.

The bone chains pulled and tugged at Spider’s flesh, and Fat Charlie could see the pain in his face.

Well, said Fat Charlie. I suppose it could be worse.

I don’t think this is it, said his brother. I think she has plans for me. Plans for us. I just don’t know what they are.

They’re only birds, said Fat Charlie. How bad could it be?

Ever heard of Prometheus?

Er—

Gave fire to man. Was punished by the gods by being chained to a rock. Every day an eagle would come down and tear out his liver.

Didn’t he ever run out of liver?

He grew a new one every day. It’s a god thing.

There was a pause. The two brothers stared at each other.

I’ll sort it out, said Fat Charlie. I’ll fix it.

Just like you fixed the rest of your life, I suppose? Spider grinned, without mirth.

I’m sorry.

No. I’m sorry. Spider sighed. So look, have you got a plan?

A plan?

I’ll take that as a no. Just do whatever you have to do. Get me out of here.

Are you in Hell?

I don’t know where I am. If it’s anywhere, this is the Hell of Birds. You have to get me out.

How?

You’re Dad’s son, aren’t you? You’re my brother. Come up with something. Just get me out of here.

Fat Charlie woke, shivering. The flight attendant brought him coffee, and he drank it gratefully. He was awake now, and he had no desire to go back to sleep, so he read the Caribbeair Magazine and learned many useful things about Saint Andrews.

He learned that Saint Andrews is not the smallest of the Caribbean Islands, but it tends to be one of the ones that people forget about when they make lists. It was discovered by the Spanish around 1500, an uninhabited volcanic hill teeming with animal life, not to mention a multiplicity of plants. It was said that anything that you planted in Saint Andrews would grow.

It belonged to the Spanish, and then to British, then to the Dutch, then to the British again, and then, for a short while after it was made independent in 1962, it belonged to Major F. E. Garrett, who took over the government, broke off diplomatic relations with all other countries except Albania and the Congo, and ruled the country with a rod of iron until his unfortunate death from falling out of bed several years later. He fell out of bed hard enough to break a number of bones, despite the presence in his bedroom of an entire squad of soldiers, who testified that they had all tried, but failed, to break Major Garrett’s fall, and despite their best efforts he was dead by the time that he arrived in the island’s sole hospital. Since then, Saint Andrews had been ruled by a beneficent and elected local government and was everybody’s friend.