Toon Time

I stared hard at the water. I needed to stare hard. The image under the surface kept shifting, and I had to concentrate to work out what I was seeing.

One moment I was looking at coral. Red corals with curving white fingers. The next moment I was looking at bare ribs poking out of bloody corpses. Ten or twenty ruined bodies, or as many bodies as there were coral beds.

'Rorschach,' said Mister Duck.

'Mmm.'

'Is it a cloud of butterflies? Is it a bed of flowers? No. It's a pile of dead Cambodians.' He laughed quietly. 'That's a test I don't see you passing.'

'I don't see you passing it either.'

'Well said, Rich. A salient point.'

Mister Duck looked down at his wrists. Large black scabs had formed around his hands and lower arms. It seemed he'd finally stopped bleeding.

'I tell you, Rich,' he said. 'Getting these bastards to close up has been a nightmare... A total fucking nightmare, I'm not kidding.'

'How did you do it?'

'Well, I tied a cloth around the top of each arm, really tight, and that slowed the blood enough to let me clot. Clever, huh?'

'That's the boy...' I began, seeing my chance, but he interrupted me.

'All right, Rich. That'll do.' He rocked on his heels like a kid with some good news to tell. 'So, ah... do you want to know why I did it?'

'Healed the cuts?'

'Yes.'

'OK.'

Mister Duck smiled proudly. 'I did it because you wanted to shake me by the hand.'

I raised my eyebrows.

'Remember? You were walking back from the carved tree and you decided you wanted to shake me by the hand. So I said to myself, I'm not going to let Rich shake my hand if I'm bleeding all over the place! No fucking way!' He emphasized his words with a jabbing finger. 'Rich is going to get a clean hand to shake! A dry hand! The kind of hand he deserves!'

I wondered how to respond. Actually, I'd completely forgotten about shaking his hand, and wasn't even sure I still wanted to.

'Well...'

'Put it there, Rich!' A darkly stained palm shot out.

'I...'

'Come on, Rich! You wouldn't refuse to shake a guy's hand, would you?'

He was right. I never could turn down an extended hand, even from enemies. 'No. Of course not...' I replied, and added 'Daffy' as an afterthought.

I reached out.

His wrists exploded. They burst apart into two red fountains, spraying like high-pressure garden hoses, soaking me and blinding me, filling my mouth.

'Stop it!' I yelled, spitting and spinning away from the jets.

'I can't, Rich!'

'Just fucking stop it!'

'I...!'

'Jesus!'

'Wait...! Wait, wait... They're getting back to normal...'

The sound of the fountains dropped away to a steady splashing. Cautiously I looked around. Mister Duck was standing with his hands on his hips, still bleeding profusely, examining the mess and shaking his head.

'Christ,' he mumbled. 'How awkward.'

I stared at him incredulously.

'Really, Rich, I can't apologize enough.'

'You stupid bastard! You knew that was going to happen!'

'No... Well, yes, but...'

'You fucking planned it!'

'It was supposed to be a joke.'

'A jo—' I hesitated. The taste of iron and salt in my mouth was making me feel sick. 'Idiot!'

Mister Duck's shoulders slumped. 'I'm really sorry,' he said unhappily. 'Maybe it wasn't a very good joke... Perhaps I'd better go.' Then he walked past me and straight off the edge of the rock-shelf, but instead of falling the few feet down to the water, he simply hovered in mid-air.

'Could you just answer one thing, Rich?'

'What?' I snapped.

'Who are you planning to bring back?'

'Back from where?'

'The world. Aren't you and Jed...'

Mister Duck paused, suddenly frowning. Then he looked down at the empty space beneath him as if noticing it for the first time.

'Oh damn,' he groaned, and dropped like a stone.

I looked over the shelf. When the ripples cleared the water was clouded with blood and I couldn't make him out. I waited a while, to see if he'd resurface, but he never did.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 803