American Elsewhere

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE




Mona and Gracie stare at the giant standing on the mountain. Mona is still struggling under the realization that this—this thing was what looked at her from behind her mother’s eyes all her life. This thing orchestrated the conception of this entire town, and Mona’s return to it; this abomination constructed and planned her entire life, from her inception to her childhood to now; and it was all for this moment, all for this chance for complete and total breach…

They watch as the yellow eyes swing back and forth, flashing through the dust clouds.

The baby coughs in Mona’s arms. Then she realizes—It’s looking for her. It’s looking for my daughter.

The giant pulls one mammoth foot free of the pile of earth that the mountain has become, swinging its leg out and forward, and finds purchase on the slope down. It is so huge that watching this small step is like seeing a cruise liner dock, and it completely outpaces the rivers of children rushing down to the town.

“It’s coming,” says Mona. “Jesus Christ, it’s coming for her!”

“For the baby?” asks Gracie, incredulous.

Mona doesn’t stop to explain. She runs for the Charger, intending to jump in and… hell, she doesn’t know. Go somewhere. Anywhere.

But as she approaches, a small figure comes running down the street to her. Mona stops: though she has the baby in her arms, the rifle is still slung around her shoulder. She wonders how to bring it up and use it safely when the figure cries: “No! Miss Bright! Stop!”

Mona grabs her rifle with one hand, but does not bring it up. That voice is somehow familiar, but she cannot understand why: as the person gets closer and Mona sees him better, she is positive she has never seen this young boy in the bunny pajamas and the huge glasses before in her life.

“You do not recognize me,” says the young boy as he stops in front of her, panting.

“No…” says Mona. But as he looks up and pushes his glasses up his nose, an absurd thought comes to her. “Wait a minute… Parson?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in that… in that little boy?”

“Yes. I have been since last night. Though you are not aware of it, I have been attempting to assist you since my, well, death.” He looks her up and down. She realizes she is still covered in blood. “Though it may not have been particularly effective…”

The dark giant pulls its other leg free of the earth. Mona gauges the distance: it can cross the valley to Wink in only about three or four more steps.

“What the hell do you want, Parson?” asks Mona. “We don’t have f*cking time to sit here and talk!”

“We do,” says the little boy (who Mona tries to remember is Parson). “She is about to be delayed. I assume you wish to run?”

“Well shit yes, we do,” says Mona.

The giant’s next step is slowed very slightly by the uneven terrain, but it is not much of a delay, if that’s what Parson was talking about.

“You cannot,” says Parson. “The child is linked to Her. She can see it—She will always know where it is. And She will not permit it to leave Wink. You cannot run from Her.”

The giant’s next step toward town is totally unhindered, and its massive leg moves so quickly they can hear the air being split from here. It is like low thunder, a crackling in the air.

“Then what the f*ck do we do?” cries Mona.

“There is another way,” says Parson. “You must wait for Her. And meet Her.”

Both Mona and Gracie are stupefied by this. In unison, both shout, “What?”

“She does not control everything in Wink,” says Parson. “Not everything here has happened as She intended. There are flaws. One, in particular.”

The giant’s foot crashes down on the highway out of town. Chunks of asphalt go flying up. Its yellow eyes are fixed on where the three of them stand before the Charger.

The baby shrieks in her arms. Mona is so anxious she thinks she might faint. “Will you kindly get to the f*cking point!” she says. “We are about to die here!”

Parson says, with infuriating calm, “No. We are not.”

Mona screams, “What the f*ck do you mean b—”

The giant is taking another step forward when it is suddenly thrown off balance: it is like it has been pushed by some invisible force, staggering backward and falling (with the astonishing enormity of the Titanic falling out of the sky) onto the ruined mountain behind it, accidentally crushing a sizable number of the children. A squeal rises up from the mountain as all the tiny horrors try to get clear of their progenitor.

The giant itself seems no less surprised by this than Mona or anyone else: it stares around, bewildered, before looking up at something on the outskirts of town.

There is a shimmering there, like a crinkle in the air. If Mona looks at it just right, it looks like a huge… well, a huge something standing on the edge of town, something extremely tall, but not half as tall as the giant: in comparison to the behemoth lying on the mountain, it is about the size of a toddler. Mona thinks she can discern long, thin arms, and many wriggling somethings, as if the top half of this creature is wreathed in tentacles…

Then she hears the fluting. It is hauntingly beautiful, yet also alien.

Beside her, Gracie gasps. “What?” she says softly. “No. No!”

The buzzing in Wink tapers off. The children, who are trying so desperately to get free of their Mother (who, in turn, seems to hardly notice them), stop struggling and stare.

A second noise begins echoing through the valley: a deep, resonant om, like thousands of monks beginning to meditate.

The giant cocks its head, and slowly starts to rise to its feet.

Gracie bursts into tears. She tries to run forward, but Parson grabs her by the hand and holds on. “We cannot let her go!” he shouts.

Mona, who is juggling just a hell of a lot of shit right now, manages to free a hand and grab Gracie’s other arm. “Stop, Gracie!” she shouts. “Just stop!” Gracie fights for a bit before giving up and crumpling to the ground, sobbing in terror.

Mona looks down on her for a moment before glancing back up at the shimmering thing on the edge of town. “What the hell is that?”

“That,” says Parson, “would be the rebellion of the obedient son.”