“No point in repining, fair lady,” says Ivory Bill, switching his gaze from Toby to Swift Fox. He’ll be even more pompous, thinks Toby, once the beard he’s working on grows in. “Carpe diem. Take every moment as it comes. Gather ye rosebuds.” He smiles, a demi-leer; his eyes move down to the red belt. Swift Fox stares at him blankly.
“Tell them a happy story,” says Manatee. “Vague on the details. Crake’s girlfriend, Oryx, used to do that sort of thing in Paradice, it kept them placid. I just hope that fucker Crake doesn’t start performing miracles from beyond the grave.”
“Like turning everything to diarrhea,” says Swift Fox. “Oh, excuse me, he’s already done that. Is there any coffee?”
“Alas,” says Ivory Bill, “we are bereft of coffee, dear lady.”
“Rebecca says she has to roast some kind of root,” says Manatee.
“And there won’t be any real cream for it when we do get it,” says Swift Fox. “Only sheep goo. It’s enough to make you ice-pick your own temples.”
The light is fading now, the moths are flying, dusky pink, dusky grey, dusky blue. The Crakers have gathered around Jimmy’s hammock. This is where they want Toby to tell the story about Crake and how they came out of the Egg.
Snowman-the-Jimmy wants to listen to the story too, they say. Never mind that he’s unconscious: they’re convinced he can hear it.
They already know the story, but the important thing seems to be that Toby must tell it. She must make a show of eating the fish they’ve brought, charred on the outside and wrapped in leaves. She must put on Jimmy’s ratty red baseball cap and his faceless watch and raise the watch to her ear. She must begin at the beginning, she must preside over the creation, she must make it rain. She must clear away the chaos, she must lead them out of the Egg and shepherd them down to the seashore.
At the end, they want to hear about the two bad men, and the campfire in the forest, and the soup with a smelly bone in it: they’re obsessed by that bone. Then she must tell about how they themselves untied the men, and how the two bad men ran away into the forest, and how they may come back at any time and do more bad things. That part makes them sad, but they insist on hearing it anyway.
Once Toby has made her way through the story, they urge her to tell it again, then again. They prompt, they interrupt, they fill in the parts she’s missed. What they want from her is a seamless performance, as well as more information than she either knows or can invent. She’s a poor substitute for Snowman-the-Jimmy, but they’re doing what they can to polish her up.
She’s just at the part where Crake is clearing away the chaos for the third time when their heads all turn at once. They sniff the air. “Men are coming, Oh Toby,” they say.
“Men?” she says. “The two men who ran away? Where?”
“No, not the ones who smell of blood.”
“Other men. More than two. We must greet them.” They all stand up.
Toby looks where they’re looking. There are four – four silhouettes, coming nearer along the cluttered street that borders the cobb-house parkette. Their headlamps are on. Four dark outlines, each bringing a shining light.
Toby feels her body unclench, feels air flowing into her in a long, soundless breath. Can a heart leap? Can a person be dizzy with relief?
“Oh Toby, are you crying?”
Homecoming
It’s Zeb. Her wish come true. Larger and shaggier than she remembers, and – although it’s only been days since Toby last saw him – older. More bowed down. What’s happened?
Black Rhino and Shackleton and Katuro are with him. Now that she’s closer she can see how tired they are. They’re setting down their packs, and the others are crowding around: Rebecca, Ivory Bill, Swift Fox, Beluga; Manatee, Tamaraw, Zunzuncito, White Sedge; Crozier and Ren and Lotis Blue; even Amanda, hanging back from the group.
Everyone’s talking; or all the human people are. The Crakers stay on the sidelines, clustered together, eyes big, watching. Ren is crying and hugging Zeb, which is in order: he is, after all, her stepfather. When they were at the Gardeners, Zeb had lived for a time with Ren’s luscious mother, Lucerne, who hadn’t appreciated him, thinks Toby.
“It’s okay,” Zeb tells Ren. “Look! You got Amanda back!” He extends an arm; Amanda lets herself be touched.
“It was Toby,” says Ren. “She had her gun.”
Toby waits, then moves forward. “Good work, sharpshooter,” Zeb says to her, even though she didn’t shoot anyone.
“You didn’t find them?” Toby asks. “Adam One and …”
Zeb gives her a sombre look. “Not Adam One,” he says. “But we found Philo.”
The others lean in to listen. “Philo?” says Swift Fox.
“Old Gardener,” says Rebecca. “He smoked a lot of … he liked the Vision Quests. He stayed with Adam One, back when the Gardeners split up. Where was he?” They all understand from Zeb’s face that Philo was not alive.
“There were a bunch of vultures on top of a parking garage, so we went up to take a look,” says Shackleton. “Near the old Wellness Clinic.”
“Where we used to go to school?” says Ren.