Chasing the Moon

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I don’t see what kind of future you can have with this guy,” said Vom.

Diana paused in the application of her eyeliner. She couldn’t talk and put on makeup at the same time. She didn’t wear makeup enough to have gotten to that level of skill.

“Who said anything about a future together? I’ll be lucky if one of you doesn’t eat me by the end of the month.”

“I resent that.”

“I didn’t mention you specifically. I could’ve been talking about Zap.”

“But you weren’t talking about Zap,” said Vom. “You were talking about me.”

“You’re right. I was. And I’ll apologize right now if you look me in the eye and say that you weren’t thinking about eating me then or right now.”

“I don’t have eyes,” he said.

“Isn’t that convenient?”

“Okay. You got me. I was thinking about eating you then. I was thinking about eating you when I first met you, and I’ve been thinking about eating you every day since. But I think about eating all the time. An hour ago I almost ate Zap when his back was turned.”

Zap piped up from the other room. “Not cool, dude!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vom shrugged. “The point is that just because I’m thinking about eating you doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

“Maybe you won’t,” she replied. “But if you don’t devour me then Smorgaz will probably smother me beneath an avalanche of clones. Or Zap will disintegrate me. I’m not saying it’ll happen on purpose, though I expect it will because, as you just pointed out, you—all of you—have innately destructive natures that you are struggling against every day. And all it takes is one slip, and it’s over.”

Vom said, “You’re exaggerating.”

“No. I’m not. And even if one of my roommates doesn’t kill me then some other confused beast from beyond will. And if by some miracle that doesn’t happen then I’m practically guaranteed to either go stark raving mad or be deemed too dangerous to exist and be shoved into exile in Apartment Zero. And I’d most definitely prefer to be eaten or zapped or smothered over that anyway.”

Vom stepped toward her. She thrust her mascara wand at his reflection.

“Don’t get any ideas now.”

Vom smiled innocently.

Diana continued, “And let’s not forget that Chuck—who does appear to be a nice, funny, and handsome guy—has a vicious little creature of his own that keeps him locked in his apartment for days on end. And that he’ll probably either die a violent death at the hands of that monster, or go insane, or end up in Apartment Zero.”

“So you’re just looking for a good time then?” asked Vom.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for. I’m just taking it one day at a time. So could you let me enjoy this?”

Vom said, “Fair enough.”

She finished putting on her makeup, checked herself in the mirror one last time. It’d been a while since she’d put on her little blue dress. It looked good, but a touch on the formal side of casual. If they had been going out, even if only to a movie or a restaurant, then it would’ve been a good choice, but she wondered if it was too much for a dinner in his apartment. Maybe jeans would’ve been a better choice.

She was halfway to her closet when she decided she was overanalyzing. Jeans and a nice top might’ve been more appropriate, but this was a date. She hadn’t been on a date in a while, and if she wanted to wear her little blue dress, she’d wear it.

She gave her inhuman roommates instructions not to wait up and walked down the hall to Chuck’s apartment. The dog was at the door. It made a peculiar gurgle, and its long, barbed tail whipped in dangerous circles as she approached. The creature moved to one side as she approached.

“Thank you,” she said. For a hideous demon from beyond, it was almost cute.

She knocked on the door, and Chuck answered.

He wore a T-shirt and slacks. For a moment she considered excusing herself and changing, but from the way his gaze lingered on her she knew he liked what he saw. This dress did do amazing things for her. She had a good figure, but the dress pushed things in the right directions and gave her narrow hips a little extra oomph. She was also wearing a push-up bra, which she knew was cheating. But she’d yet to meet a guy who cared once the illusion was unclasped. If it even came to that. She was getting ahead of herself.

“You’re early.”

“Traffic was light.”

Chuck smiled. He ran his fingers through his hair, and a forelock fell across his brow.

He tepped aside and let her in.

“Something smells good,” she said.

“Lasagna,” he replied.

“Great. I love Italian.”

“That’s good, because it’s really the only thing I can cook.”

While he checked on the meal she relaxed on the sofa and took stock of the mishmash of styles in his apartment. The floating coffee table interested her the most. She tested its stability by pressing one hand against it, then two. Lightly at first, then harder. It didn’t budge. She tested the underside, but it remained steady.

“Yeah, I can’t figure out how to move it,” he said. “Can’t move any of the furniture actually. Although sometimes when I’m not looking it changes. That sofa is only a few weeks old. Before that it was a rocking chair.”

“Do you think it makes any sense?” she asked.

“They’re both designed for sitting.”

“Not that. Not just that anyway.” Diana made a sweeping gesture. “Any of this.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He offered her a glass of wine. “Maybe it all fits together on a cosmic scale that we’ll never be able to understand. Could be that there’s a master plan going on, and we’re just bumbling our way through it. Or it could all be chaos, entropy, and any sense we try to make of it will only be the elaborate fantasies of small, inadequate perceptions. Either way, I don’t see how we’d be able to perceive the difference.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” she said.

“You haven’t?”

They clinked their glasses together in a toast.

“How could you not?” she said.

“You’ll want it to make sense,” he said. “You’ll never stop wanting that. But after a while you realize that it doesn’t matter. You just take things day by day and don’t expect order. You just hope for some semblance of stability.”

“Yeah. That’s what I miss most. Stability. Predictability. I don’t know if the real world is any more sensible than this, but it was at least steady. Now everything’s up in the air. If I went back to my apartment and found everything had turned purple, I probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at this stage. But it’s still hard to get comfortable when everything can be topsyturvy in a moment.”

She gulped down the wine and licked her lips.

“Wow. Don’t normally like wine, but this is yummy.” He poured her another glass. She swallowed this with another swig. A drop ran down the corner of her mouth and she dabbed at it with her finger, then sucked the moistened fingertip with a satisfied sigh.

Chuck looked away like he’d caught her in the middle of an intimate moment.

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess this is really good wine.”

“I guess so.”

She chuckled. He joined her, and the awkwardness dissolved.

“Want some more?” he asked.

“No, I’m good. Two glasses is my limit.” Diana eyed the bottle. “Well, one more glass wouldn’t hurt anything.”

A timer buzzed in the kitchen, signaling the lasagna’s readiness. She watched him pull it out of the oven.

“It’ll probably be too hot to eat,” he said. “We’ll have to let it cool down.”

“It smells too good,” she said, presenting her plate. “I can’t wait.”

“Okay, but don’t get mad at me if you burn your mouth.”

“Can I even do that anymore? I’m told I’m immune to conventional harm now.”

He dropped a slice on her plate.

She frowned. “Oh, come on. Don’t be stingy. I’m starving.”

He served her more, and when her frown remained he gave her another slice. Her mouth watering, she pulled away the heaping plate, grabbed a dirty fork out of the sink, and started eating.

“Did you skip lunch?”

It took Diana a few moments to chew all the food jammed in her mouth. “No, I’m just hungry for some reason. This is really good by the way.”

“Thanks. It’s an old recipe my dad—”

She threw open his refrigerator. “Got anything to drink?”

“Uh, sure. There should be—”

“V8? Can’t stand the stuff.” She grabbed a bottle, opened it, and chugged a healthy portion. Some of it dribbled down her chin. Red drops stained her little blue dress.

“Oh great.” Diana yanked at the dress, pulling it to her lips.

She was making an unpleasant sucking noise when she looked up and noticed Chuck was watching her with a slight, yet noticeable, revulsion.

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Just really hungry all of a sudden, that’s all.”

“I noticed.”

They took a seat at the table. Diana pushed her appetite to manageable levels and forced herself to eat at a leisurely pace. It was surprisingly hard to do.

“This is really good.”

“You said that already,” he remarked flatly. “Several times.”

“Did I?” She speared a small bite, stuck it in her mouth, and chewed. “Sorry, but I’m just really hungry.”

“You said that too.”

Her stomach growled, and they both pretended not to hear it.

The conversation went flat after that. Neither said much of anything for several minutes. She kept trying to think of something to get everything back on track, but the only subjects that came to mind were lasagna-related. Whenever he spoke, she was usually too busy chewing to offer more than a nod and a murmur.

She had three servings. Three heaping servings. She emptied the lasagna pan in the time it took him to finish off his one plate. The more she ate, the hungrier she seemed to get. She tried to ignore the problem, hoping it would go away on its own. When she accidentally ate her own fork, she decided the problem wasn’t one that could be ignored.

Diana studied the stub of silverware in her fingers. She’d sheared it off at the handle, and was chewing the prong end. The metal had a peculiar tang, not altogether unpleasant. And since half a fork wasn’t much good to anyone, she went ahead and finished it off.

By now Chuck had stopped registering the weirdness of it.

“Maybe I should leave,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You said it. There’s always something new to deal with.”

He smiled at her, gave her a slight hug that was friendly without being presumptuous. He really was a great guy, and she almost convinced herself that she could just ignore her hunger pangs and push on with the date. Then her stomach rumbled.

“Excuse me.”

She rushed over to her apartment, threw open the door. The monsters were sitting in the living room, watching television. Except Vom.

“Where is he?” she asked.

They pointed toward the kitchen.

“Of course he is.”

She found Vom the hungering hunched over the counter, spreading tuna salad on bread.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a sandwich,” he said. “Want one?”

“No, I don’t want a sandwich, and don’t play dumb. You’re doing something to me.”

The furry green creature swallowed the sandwich in one bite and started making another. “Sure you don’t want one?”

“Don’t try to distract me.”

“If I were trying to distract you, I wouldn’t be offering to feed you.” He held out a plate of a dozen sandwiches and offered it to her. “Eat. Trust me. You’ll feel better.”

She grabbed one and bit into it. It tasted so good. It was the best sandwich she’d ever eaten. The best sandwich anyone had ever eaten, she decided.

“The secret ingredient is whipped cream,” said Vom. “Also, I find that sawdust adds a delightful texture.”

She rolled her tongue around her mouth and nodded. He was right.

“You know what would be good with this,” she said. “Copper. I think I have some pennies on my dresser.”

“Intriguing.”

Diana went to retrieve the coins, but she made it only a few steps before stopping herself.

“Am I seriously thinking about eating pennies?”

“Is there anything you’re considering not eating?” asked Vom.

She performed a thorough mental scan and found that anything she thought of, no matter how bizarre or unappetizing, seemed reasonable to consume. She tried not to dwell on anything too disgusting, even as her mouth watered.

“I wouldn’t eat shag carpeting.” The insight both pleased and revolted her.

“Good. Although shag carpeting is pretty tasty if I do say so myself.”

She joined him at the table and forced herself to eat a sandwich with slow, deliberate bites. Just the act of eating seemed to relax her. The functional grace of the chewing motion as her jaws worked. The wonderful transformative process where something was destroyed only to become part of something else. She’d taken it for granted her entire life, but she felt the particles dancing between her teeth, skipping lightly on her tongue, sliding down her throat. It was erotic and holy, pure and primal. It was beautiful, a sacrament.

“Oh God.” She closed her eyes, tasting every element of her meal. She was closer to an orgasm than she wanted to admit.

“It’s transference,” said Vom.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. It’s not something I’m doing. It’s just something that happens sometimes. When the conditions are right.”

“What conditions?”

“I don’t really know. It’s not like I have a manual on this.”

“It’s like I’m hungry, and I know that I can never satisfy that hunger but I have to try anyway.” She grabbed another sandwich and gobbled it down without concern over table manners. “How do you live like this?”

“I was made hungry, and I’ll always be hungry. It’s just something I deal with.”

“That must suck.”

“It’s not always easy,” he said, “but it is my natural state of being. I’ve always thought it must suck to be a decaying bag of flesh that is constantly struggling against entropic forces that will eventually cause all your systems to break down into their component matter and then be redistributed, reprocessed, and repeated in an endless struggle against the chaos you deny is waiting to consume you.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that,” she admitted.

“Why should you? It’s like being a frog enjoying the taste of flies. It’s not something the frog has to think about. It’s just something it accepts.”

Vom beat her to the last sandwich. He opened wide to swallow it, then stopped, tore the sandwich in two, and handed one half to her.

“Thanks. I know how hard that was for you to do.”

“Not as hard as you think,” he said. “Sure, where I came from, when I was just a single-minded eating machine, it would’ve been impossible. But the transference process works both ways. You might have my appetite, but I have your selfcontrol, your empathy.”

She chuckled. “Never thought of myself as having much self-control before.”

“Most humans have infinitely more self-control than we horrors do. It’s how your species functions, bred into you. You need it to have a civilization. Where I come from, civilization isn’t even a word.”

“What’s it like?” Diana didn’t expect to understand his answer, but she was just trying to distract herself from the gnawing hunger. Eating kept it in check, but it didn’t seem to satisfy the endless appetite within her, which seemed stronger than before.

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember,” said Vom. “Probably because memory itself is something else I’ve borrowed from you. The laws of physics as you know them don’t exist. It’s a much smaller place. Only a single planet and a handful of stars. Everything springs into existence from molten pools of primordial goop, where it immediately begins the process of devouring and avoiding being devoured. And there, I am a god. Of sorts. In a reality where everything lives to eat everything else, I am at the top of the heap. I sit on the great mountain and things kill each other just for the right to crawl into my gullet.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Believe it or not, it was. Especially if you’re lucky enough to be the devourer and not the devoured. It was what I was made for, and I was good at it. Then I fell into the void between worlds and ended up here, with all the accompanying baggage that goes with it. Existence here is a lot more complicated, and I still don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

She could relate. Right now sitting on top of a mountain, having people throw an infinite supply of cheeseburgers down her throat, sounded pretty damn appealing. Knowing that this wasn’t her, but coming from Vom, only made her realize how alien life in this reality was for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Apology accepted.” He took the plate and swallowed it. “Sorry about what?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t understand how hard this must be for you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should apologize to you for the same thing.”

“There has to be a way to get you back there.”

“I’m sure there is. And I’m sure one day I’ll go back. I am infinite. I have all the time in this universe and the next. But I sometimes worry that when I do go back I really won’t be the same. Eating everything sounds great. It does. But I’ll miss being able to talk to people and think about things. People don’t like talking to primal devouring gods. They mostly chant placating dirges and scream.”

Vom held out his furry palm. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

He offered a close-mouthed smile, and she knew he did so to hide his many rows of sharp teeth. “Trust me. Just this once.”

Against her better judgment, she put her hand in his. A spark stung her fingers, leaving her hand numb. And just like that, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

“You took it back.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll last, but it might be long enough to finish your date. Hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed some of your self-discipline too. Just to make things more bearable.”

“If it means never being hungry like that again, you can take it all.”

Diana stood, collected her thoughts. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but she felt stuffed and bloated. Now that Vom had taken back his hunger, she wondered if he’d taken his omnivorous nature with it. She hadn’t been worried about the fork or the sawdust or the whipped cream when eating them, but now they sat in her gut like a lump.

Vom assured her that everything would be fine. “Go on. Have a good time. We’ll be here when you’re done.”

She wasn’t about to let a queasy stomach end her date at this stage. She pushed away from the table and stood, and when she didn’t throw up or fall to the floor in crippling pain she counted herself lucky.

“Thanks, Vom.”

The fuzzy green monster shrugged as he rummaged through the refrigerator. “It’s no big thing.”

Having held even the smallest sliver of his ravenous appetite, she understood how overwhelming it could be, and how being free of even a tiny bit of it was a relief. If the positions had been reversed and she could’ve given away the burden, she wouldn’t have been able to take it back.

“Yes, you would have,” he said.

She almost reprimanded him for reading her mind again, but that wasn’t his fault.

“Go on,” he said between gulping down whatever he could get his hands on. “Have fun.”

She left him to his appetite and returned to Chuck’s. He opened the door.

“Oh,” he said with a note of surprise. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” she said with a shade too much enthusiasm.

“Glad to hear it.”

He looked so damn handsome and huggable that she did just that. She didn’t plan it, and she didn’t plan the kissing either. She eventually pulled away, feeling a bit embarrassed. Or thinking she should’ve been embarrassed. Only she wasn’t.

Embarrassment came from being afraid of embarrassment. Like a snake eating its own tail, if you had no embarrassment to feed it, it just slunk away into the nether whence it was spawned. It also came from fear of putting others in an awkward position, and it was clear that Chuck had liked the kiss as much as she.

He grinned. His face was a little flushed.

She waited for him to respond. To seize her passionately and sweep her off her feet. At the very least to say, “Thank you.” Instead he bit his lip. He moved his hands in small motions that didn’t go anywhere.

Diana didn’t feel bad about it. She wasn’t herself. Although that wasn’t true. She was exactly the same except for a few slivers of self-control that Vom had borrowed from her. While self-discipline was a good thing when it came to stopping yourself from eating the universe, it could sometimes hold you back from doing what you really wanted to do, and she’d been wanting to do that for a while now.

“Sorry.”

She turned. He grabbed her by the arm.

“Wait. I—”

Diana fell into his arms and kissed him again.

Neither was surprised by it this time.