chapter seven

He woke up in a massive bed.
He pushed off the covers and put his feet on marble floor.
It was dark in the room, with a red glow from the windowed wall.
He walked to the edge.
Below the room he saw a city of buildings lit by sunrise.
He saw the ground floor of the building held up by a cloud.
Every building looked like a crystal pillar, with beams of sun streaking into and out of each one.
"Heaven, I'm in Heaven," he thought.
"No," said the bartender.

Chapter Six

The cat swam in the ocean. Deep down to where the fish were. He shot up into the sky and flew like a bird. He picked a fight with the cat down the street. He ate fresh meat. He fucked a beautiful stray.

chapter 5

George found a bar with neon signs inside and a jukebox playing Bob Seger. A few guys were sitting at the bar and some people were smoking in the back.
"Does someone here speak English?"
"We all do."
The bartender had no accent.
"You wanted to go to France, to try to follow your wife. But you've never been there, you can only imagine it from what you've seen, so this is what you got."
"But that doesn't make sense. I should be in Paris or on the Eiffel Tower or drinking wine or something."
"But you know that's not what France is like, not really."
"I figured that's what my wife was going to see."
"No. She's not here. So that means you didn't want to see her. She'd be here if you did."
"If I decided I wanted to, would I be seeing her, or something that looks like her?"
"Yes. But whether or not that's what you, the George I'm talking to, would see, that depends."
"What does that depend on?"
"A lot of things, and I don't know most of them."
George sat down at the bar and closed his eyes.
"You have to be more specific."
"And you have to be more open-minded."
"What?"
"The beacon's in the bathroom. Touch it and try to think of two places you want to be at once. That'll explain more than I can."
"Hell with it. Will that booze behind the counter get me drunk?"
"It's real."
"But this isn't really France."
"Do you want a drink or not?"
George ordered a shot of Jameson's.
"When I was younger, I was sure of what I wanted. A big house, a wife and two kids, fifty years of fun, sex, and love, and dying in my sleep."
"What happened?"
"Housing got too expensive, kids got too expensive, and the wife-- and fun?"
"It's not so bad, being married to Dorothy. She got you in on this adventure."
"This isn't an adventure. I could do this down the street from our apartment."
"Go to the bathroom, touch the beacon, think of two places, then say that."
"OK, after another couple drinks."
He had another shot.
"You can't explain this to me?"
"I wish I could, just as much as you wish I would. But this defies explanation."
"Five thousand dollars. For five dollars you get a steak. You know what it is, what it does. You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to solve the mystery of the steak."
"Would you like a steak?"
"Sure. And another shot. I haven't had much to eat today."
The bartender reached under the bar and pulled out a steak and another shot of whiskey.
"You just had that there?"
"No."
"That's the best hint you can give me?"
"It's the only hint I can give you. But it's also a good steak. Try it."
He picked up a fork and knife and cut off a piece for himself. It was perfect.
"Give me another shot. And put it on my tab."
"You don't--"
"I think I get it now."
He took another drink and headed into the bathroom.

chapter four

Dottie knew exactly where she was—Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, School for Girls. It was different all boarded up. With a tall fence around it with Hazmat warning signs. Everything decayed and overgrown and sorrowful. No girls in little plaid skirts, crucifixes planted firmly around their necks. She touched her neck. What made her want to see this? She found a break in the fence and crawled through.
She went straight to the baptismal font. There’d been an incident. She walked down the long corridor. The government blamed terrorists, in what had become the longest war in history. With no memory of how it started and no foreseeable end. Of course, it was Gaza and the perpetual need to bring about an Armageddon that would bring down Jesus to judge us but never did. Thank God.
The font still ran. It poured over with genetically modified flesh-eating bacteria. Dorothy stepped to the front. Gingerly swiped her fingers through the water. Nothing. But it felt wet.
“They didn’t even remove her.”
“What?”
“They locked her up in here to die. It probably didn’t take long.”
Dorothy moved slowly around the font. There was the little girl, a pile of acid-pocked bones in loose clothing. “Who are you?”
“Her niece,” she said. “Scottie.”
“That was her name.”
“Yes.” Scottie moved out of the corner, stuck out her hand.
Dorothy shook it. “Dorothy,” she said. Silence. “Why can I see you?”
“Same plane, both visiting.” More silence.
“I could feel the water. It was wet. Shouldn’t I be melting.”
“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’m pissed they let this machine out with so many kinks.”
“What?”
“My project,” she said. “I’m glad you’re not melting.” Scottie laughed something awful. “You were a friend of my mother’s,” she said. “Catherine.”
Dottie choked. “Catherine Byrne?”
“All my pens and paper and stuff are back at base. If I told you her number would you remember it?” They stepped into the chapel.
“I can try. Will you try to remember mine? Just in case? You’re so much younger dear.” They sat in the back pew, exchanged numbers, muttered them together until they remembered.

chapter 3

He swallowed his pill and stepped into the cylinder.
There was no screen. Dottie and the cat were gone.
So was he. George didn't know where he was, except it was blue.
He started thinking about his wife and that there was no screen. $5,000 for this should have...
He stopped thinking about her and instead thought about France.
France, he thought. France France France.
George remembered hearing friends talk about going to Europe when he was in college.
He was always too busy.
The blue was gone. Everywhere he looked, it was dark.
I'm dead, he thought. They took my money and killed me.
Perfect crime; no body left, just a pill dispenser and whatever Dottie signed, which she probably didn't read. At least I won't have to deal with the cat pissing on my side of the bed anymore.
He noticed he was standing on asphalt. It was still dark, but he could see fields on both sides of the road where he was.
George saw headlights.
He waved. The car sped by.
He saw a town's lights down the road where the car came from and started walking.
He thought he saw a beacon, but it was a motorcycle.
Eventually he got to the town. He saw billboards for McDonald's and Nike. The buildings all looked ugly and pre-fab.
George waited for someone to come by. He had no idea where he was.

chapter 2 (we're going to edit eventually right?)

“Did you ask them about food?”
“Yes. I asked them about food.”
“Well what did they say. I want to bring Charlie.” She cradled the old cat close to her chest.
“For Christ Sake Dottie, we’re not bringing the cat.”
“Did they say we couldn’t?”
“No I’m saying we can’t.”
“How do we eat?”
“I don’t know. She told me but I don’t get it. We take a pill. That should be enough. They’re in the thing.”
“So I can’t go to France and have Brie.”
“Well you can. But you don’t need to. Fine. Okay. I’m just going to repeat everything I know for you and then we’ll shut up and get in the damn thing. She said the pill should hold us. Our bodies aren’t being transported anywhere.”
“But then—”
“Shut up and listen. Our consciousness is being transported to, Christ I don’t remember. It’s like we’re everywhere we want to be at once, but we can’t interact and it’s like we’re in our bodies but our bodies aren’t actually here. There are beacons every mile, on our ‘plain’ where we can eat whatever the food of the place and time is but it’s not feeding you, it’s just giving you the experience of eating. So. Eat as much as you want. But the screen’s going to tell us all that anyway.”
Dottie was already in the cylinder. “There are pills for cats too!”
“Jesus,” he said. “They don’t recommend it though,” he said. “They don’t recommend it for pets, pregnant women, retards or suicidals.”
She stepped back out. “You aren’t suicidal. Are you George?”
He looked at his wife, still in her stupid, dumpy old nightgown, clutching that cat. “No sweetheart. Of course not. Are you?”
“No,” she said. “No of course not.”
“Take your pill darling.”
“Come on Charlie,” she says. “Take your little pill.”

chapter 1

They looked at the screen.
"What do you think?" Dawn said.
George said, "I guess it's all right. It'll really-- How do they do it? It's safe?"
"I'm pretty sure whatever they do, it's safe. They wouldn't be able to do it if it wasn't safe."
"I don't know how I feel about your ideas. Your guesses really suck sometimes."
"What did I do, could you just tell me that? Why am I being interrogated?"
"Nothing. Nothing, forget it. How does it work? What do we have to do?"
"Jessica said she and Maura just sat down."
"What else did they say?"
"I didn't ask anything else."
"It can't be that easy, let's call them."
George called Jessica and Maura. The machine answered.
"Try calling the travel people, ask them."
"I'm angry right now. Just let me calm down before I say, all right, this is what we'll do instead of getting on a plane. This is my first vacation in twenty years."
"It's mine too. If you won't, I'll go get a round-trip ticket or whatever they call it there. I'll have as much fun as they did, all by myself, and you'll just be waiting here for Jess and Mo to call back."
"You know? I don't want to argue about this. I'll call them, but I want to wait until tomorrow morning."
He called the travel people.