White Space

No, no, that was an accident. The gun just went off. What was he thinking? Emma would never—

“But I didn’t write you!” Emma screamed at the whisper-man. “I never wrote a father … a monster like you!”

Oh God. As strong as he knew he could be, Eric felt something deep in the center of his being waver. She just admitted it. She wrote me. He felt Casey’s hand on his shoulder, but the touch was distant, nothing more than a suggestion. She wrote us. Everything I think I know, all that I am … is because of her?

“YOU WROTE HIM A FATHER WHO GOT WHAT HE DESERVED. BUT DON’T BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF, EMMA; YOU COULDN’T HELP IT. REMEMBER YOUR DEAR POPS AND HIS SET POINTS? MOMMIE DEAREST MAKING LIKE A TREE AND LEAVING HER LITTLE BUNDLE OF JOY IN A MILLION PIECES? A TRAUMATIZED, UGLY LITTLE GIRL WITH NO HOPE, NO FRIENDS? YOU CARRY THE PAST, EMMA, AND IT COLORS EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH, ANYTHING YOU DO,” the whisper-man said. “MCDERMOTT KNEW: THE MONSTERS OF THE PAST ARE BLOODSTAINS THAT ONLY FADE BUT NEVER DISAPPEAR. HE INFECTED YOU. YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT INFECT ERIC, TOO. WHY ELSE GIVE HIM AN ABUSIVE ASSHOLE OF A DAD?”

What? Through the sudden muddle in his mind, he felt the words prick like pins. What does he mean, infect?

“But I never imagined you. I never gave you a name,” she said, fiercely. “And I know that I never even thought of, much less wrote, a bro—” Her mouth clamped shut.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” The whisper-man cupped a hand to Rima’s ear, which tore, releasing a gush of fresh blood to dribble along the girl’s chin. “SAY WHAT, EMMA, DEAR?”

“Damn it, leave her alone!” Eric’s rage finally boiled over. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t care, I don’t care! What does this have to do with her or me or Casey? Huh? If you’ve got something else to say, say it!”

“OH, ALL RIGHT. HERE’S WHERE THE OTHER SHOE DROPS.” The whisper-man paused. “OUR LITTLE EMMA DIDN’T WRITE CASEY, ERIC.”

Casey’s hand was still around his arm, and now Eric felt his brother go rigid. “What do you mean?” Casey said. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Eric said. The icy dread in his stomach seemed to suddenly thaw. He should’ve known it was lying. Of course, Emma didn’t write Casey: because she’d never written him. Daydreaming wasn’t the same as creating, and what he felt for Casey was real and so intense he could hold it in his hand. Casey was his brother. That was a given. Nothing could undo that. “It’s just playing games, Case. This is all an illusion; it’s a lie. I’m alive. I’m real, and you’re my brother; you’ve always been my brother.”

“DID I SAY HE WASN’T? I ONLY SUGGESTED THAT YOU BOYS DON’T SHARE … WELL, THE SAME MOTHER, SO TO SPEAK,” the whisper-man said.

“Shut up,” Emma said to it. Tears streamed over her cheeks. “Just shut up, shut up!”

The whisper-man ignored her. “I SAID YOU ALL HAVE GIFTS, ERIC. NOW LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT YOURS. YOU WANTED SOMEONE TO PROTECT AND LOVE, CARE FOR, FIGHT FOR. EMMA MADE YOU THAT WAY. SHE SET YOU IN MOTION, BUT COULD NEVER BRING HERSELF TO FINISH YOUR STORY, JUST AS FRANK NEVER PENNED HER END. SO YOU’VE GOTTEN LOOSE. YOU ARE SO VERY MUCH LIKE HER IN THAT WAY, TOO: A FREE AGENT WITH FREE WILL … WELL, WITHIN LIMITS, BECAUSE, AFTER ALL, SHE’S HERE, AND SO ARE YOU. YOU ARE ALL BOUND TO MCDERMOTT AND HIS STORIES, TO LIZZIE, TO THIS PLACE, AND TO ONE ANOTHER, THROUGH THE NOWS AND ALL TIMES. THE POINT, ERIC, IS YOU CREATED THE PERFECT VESSEL FOR ME: A YOUNG MIND, A CLEAN SLATE OF A PERSONALITY WITH ONLY ENOUGH HISTORY TO ROUND YOU OUT, MAKE YOU WHOLE. YOU BROUGHT CASEY TO LIFE, ERIC … ALL BY YOURSELF.”

Eric felt his knees go watery. There was nothing inside his chest. He couldn’t speak, or move. His brain hung in an airless space, a kind of between, like the vacuum between stars.

“CHARACTERS WRITING CHARACTERS THAT BRING OTHER CHARACTERS TO LIFE…” What was left of Rima’s mouth skinned a grin that was all tattered flesh, smeary orange teeth, and purple clot. “KIND OF MAKES YOUR HEAD SPIN, DON’T IT?”

“Fuck you!” Casey screamed. He wrenched free of Eric’s slack grip and sprang for the circle. “Fuck you! I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you!”

“No, Casey!” Eric and Emma shouted. They surged after, but Casey was small, fast as a whippet, and he had a head start. “Casey, no!” Eric cried, as Casey crossed into the circle. “Casey, stop, no, st—”

The air abruptly came alive and swelled with a wild rushing sound that Eric thought was like the roar of water, except it came from somewhere high above. What happened next came so fast that neither he nor Emma could do anything about it.

As one, the birds foamed from the rock and crashed down in a gale.

RIMA A Whisper, Like Blood