Erik heard Vanity Fare drifting out of the basement. That was Milo’s kind of music. He wandered over and peeked past the doorway with a hand on the frame — there used to be a door, but it had gone so long ago he couldn’t remember it.
He rubbed his metal socket with an absent hand. He guessed it didn’t have to be all that long ago for him not to remember it. But it seemed like there hadn’t been a door for a long time. Auntie Hyacinth wasn’t big on doors. Or, like, maintenance.
Milo had his back to the stairs and was leaning against the worktable, either drawing or assembling, with the radio on. His braid was out of his shirt and his head was bobbing subtly to the music.
Just Milo. No Hyacinth. No Calliope. No Lucy in the Lu-ambulator. Just Milo, building stuff with the radio on.
Erik wasn’t sure if he’d been waiting for this. Maybe he’d just been sorta thinking about it at the back of his mind. Maybe, if it was just Milo, and nobody else to ask questions…
He couldn’t when Maggie wasn’t doing school, but that seemed like it was sorted out. It was usually at least Hyacinth in the basement helping out with the decoys, but she was doing laundry in the kitchen right now. That took a long time.
It wasn’t like she would hear them. Probably.
He put his hand on his back pocket. The card was in his back pocket. Maggie left it on the end table when they came back in, and he took it when she wasn’t looking.
Okay, maybe he had been waiting. A little.
He knocked on the door frame and when Milo startled and looked up, he waved.
Milo grabbed what he’d been working on and held it up with excitement in lieu of a smile. It was a wooden duck with untold amounts of metal and magic stuffed up its insides, but he’d managed to keep it looking duck-like. Calliope bought it to be funny, but he decided to see if he could really get it to go. It was a surprise!
“Decoy?” Erik said, smiling.
Milo nodded rapidly and he smiled too. He hit it up with a quick spell — there was no point in putting buttons or cranks on the things, there were too many, they needed a master switch.
The duck unfurled its wings, straightened its neck and took off, quacking.
Because he was friends with Maggie, Erik knew to look for the slight warping at the edges that indicated optical magic in motion. The flapping wings, although extremely detailed and making actual flapping noises, were the most obvious that way. Almost like a bad cartoon with a low frame rate and squiggly lines.
He loved her very much, but Maggie kinda took a lot of the fun out of magic. One time he asked her if it’d kill her to just go “wow” every once in a while.
She told him that was boring and dumb.
The optical effects flickered out in midair, the duck became a simple wooden decoy again, and it managed to fly one more circuit of the basement that way, before it failed to course-correct for the wall, knocked into the bricks, and fell to the floor with a clatter.
Erik rushed down the stairs. Milo was already collecting the duck, checking its wooden shell for damage.
“He… okay?” Erik asked.
Milo nodded and signed him a thumbs up. It didn’t really matter if it broke. These things were going to break spectacularly. They didn’t need to be this complicated, just a lot of magic, but he thought it might make Calliope smile. She could pretend it was a mommy for the little pastel-coloured ones in the egg carton. Until it blew up. And then she could make more art with the pieces if she wanted!
Most of the other decoys were way more ordinary, some of them just glass bottles and tin cans, but all of them were loaded up with magic and all of them could fly. They were gathering in paper bags and boxes under the stairs with the other shelter supplies, ready and waiting for a storm.
In the meantime, Calliope was decorating as many of them as she could. It was pretty fun. They were all going to look amazing.
“Can I… play with him when you’re done?” Erik asked.
Milo nodded. Erik didn’t get to have any fun during magic storms, he might as well get some playing in beforehand. He tapped the duck on the head with a finger and made the motion of an explosion with his hands. Just don’t get attached, okay?
“I know,” Erik said.
Neither one of them was sure if Erik got it from the pantomime or the Invisibles gave him a nudge, and neither one cared.
Milo put the duck in Erik’s hands. He could work on a less-interesting one if Erik wanted to play with it now. You need to have fun, kiddo. You look sad and like you’re not sleeping. Your eyes have luggage.
“I… sleep some,” Erik said. They both knew that was the thing where the gods told him stuff. It seemed like they were doing it a lot more ever since Milo got adopted by Erik’s uncle. Maybe some of them were nice and wanted to push them together to make a good family.
Erik put his hand on his back pocket, then stuffed both in his front pockets with a frown. “Hey, Milo, does my eye miss me when I have it out?”
Milo straightened and considered that, but only for a moment. He nodded. I never thought about it like that, but — yuh-huh.
“See, Maggie figured it out, but my uncle won’t let me sleep with it in,” Erik said. “And Hyacinth said my skin needs to breathe.”
Milo turned, displaying his usual expression of mild concern. Hey, Erik? I didn’t make that thing to sleep with. It doesn’t close. I don’t know what it would do if you weren’t conscious. I gave it a baseline. It would freak out. Do you get me or do I need to do a card for this?
He tried pointing at Erik’s eye, then he closed his eyes and folded his hands under his head like they made him sleep at the workhouse. He shook his head and crossed his hands in front of him. No sleep. No-no. Cancel. Bad.
Erik tipped his eye out of his head and examined it. “I’d… scare it?”
Milo nodded.
I told Maggie it was like a little kid, Erik thought. He pressed it back into the socket.
Milo pointed to Erik’s head, then to his own head, nodding. I got that. Yeah, it’s because you’re a kid.
“Milo…” Erik put his hand on his back pocket again. I don’t have to. We can just talk about my eye while I play with this duck and Milo doesn’t have to find out I’m a bad person. The bus is leaving, do I want on?
Milo thought of Erik standing on the curb and watching a bus with NORMAL AFTERNOON on the destination placard and a lot of happy, smiling people inside it as it pulled away. He set down the tin can he’d been about to start work on and shook his head. What is it?
Erik sighed. He set the duck on the worktable and stuffed his hand in his pocket. “I… want to… talk… I… know it’s…”
“Brand New Key” was playing on the radio and he broke off to sing with Melanie for a verse.
He switched back to speaking before his worry clogged up whatever part of his brain made words: “It’s hard for both of us but I want you and not Ann and I think we can because how we understand each other. I think when we both want to we can push it, you know? Push it? Maybe they feel… sorry for us and… help.”
Milo nodded.
“Will you… hug me?” Erik said. “I… think that’s… easier.”
Milo nodded.
Oh, yeah. I was getting, like, whole words when we were hugging before. I thought we were just excited about your uncle being my dad, but I don’t know how this works. I don’t think we’re doing it. I mean, I’ve been trying to do it for Calliope and I can’t even a little. She understands me because she’s smart. I don’t mean you’re not smart, but there’s more. I think they’re smushing us together like when a little kid wants their dolls to be friends but you can’t make them hold hands because they don’t have fingers…
There were a couple decoys on the cot and he set them aside. He sat down, offering a lap, and opened his arms for the hug.
“I think that went past me, but there was a lot of it,” Erik said, blinking. “You’re talking about everything all the time, aren’t you? I just get a little of it.”
Milo shrugged. Depends.
Erik closed his grey eye and covered the metal one with a hand. “‘Dolls can’t hold hands because they don’t have fingers,’ but I’m not sure what it means.”
Milo smirked. He shook his head. Erik, I am super silly a lot of the time, you have no idea. I think Calliope knows I am a little, but only Ann knows how much for real. You’re just getting the highlights.
“A vampire with a juice box,” Erik said. He shook his head and opened his eye. “I don’t want to… talk about that. I’m just… scared. I don’t want you to… stop… liking me.”
Milo shook his head. I won’t. He offered the hug again.
Erik crawled into his lap and sat sideways. He put his left arm around Milo’s neck. The card was in his right hand. Milo’s arms went around him and he sighed. You’re good at hugs, Milo, don’t ever stop doing hugs.
“You… said this to… Maggie,” Erik said. He held up the card. “I… saved it.”
It was the card he’d given Maggie after she got upset and set Hyacinth’s dress on fire. Milo plucked it from Erik’s fingers and examined it. A few words had been carefully highlighted in lemon-yellow crayon.
But other people can’t be Ann,
and they shouldn’t be.
Can we make a deal?
I’ll help you not burn people alive if you help me,
because I don’t always listen to Ann
and she can’t fight me with magic like you.
And most people probably don’t deserve to die
for just being dumb.
“You know you… shouldn’t… kill… people… even… if… you… want to…” Erik managed. “But… sometimes…” He shook his head. Maggie said you’d only stop each other if the people didn’t deserve it and you said okay. You remember that? You understand?
Milo blinked and looked down at him. I know you don’t want to make that deal with me. Why is it so important I made it with Maggie? Erik, you don’t know how to kill people.
(No, I don’t.)
Milo shook his head. It was about gods, but it was way bigger than that. This was like a landslide on the porch ringing the doorbell. Let me in so I can bury you alive, okay? I’m asking nicely.
This is not smart of me, Milo told himself. He knew Ann would tell him don’t do it, then, so he didn’t ask her. She could just keep doing whatever she did when he was busy with technical stuff.
Yeah, okay, come on in. I’ll make coffee.
(Erik, what happened?)
Erik’s expression twisted. He pulled down his arm and curled up with both of them folded around his middle, looking away. It’s really bad and I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to stop loving me.
Milo pictured Erik grabbing his and Ann’s colour-changing coffee mug (which they both really liked) off the counter and smashing it on the floor. On purpose. And all these little hearts spilled out of it like shiny confetti, then they crumpled and faded away.
Milo shook his head. He hugged tighter. Uh-uh. No way.
(You have to promise you won’t tell.)
(Erik what is it? Did someone hurt you? Do you need help? I’m not gonna promise not to get you help before I know if you need help!)
(I almost killed six people, Milo.)
Milo frowned. He lifted a finger and shook it once, scolding. I know that isn’t all of it because that doesn’t make sense. You’re cleaning it up. You’re cheating it. Don’t cheat me.
Erik saw himself trying to peel the labels off a pair of cheap shoes so nobody would know they were knockoffs. He sighed. He shut his eye and he put his hands over both of them.
(I almost —
My uncle said don’t call anybody. He screamed it. I know they grabbed him and they were going to hurt him but he didn’t scream about that, he screamed about me calling somebody. He didn’t want me to call the radio man because he kills people. The radio man likes me because he liked my mom. He isn’t mean to me but he is mean and he’s bad and he scares me so much because sometimes he doesn’t scare me.
I saw my mom. He showed me my mom. And I said it was lying but I don’t think it really was. I really don’t think it was. She was killing so many people and I knew it was to save the city but she liked it too. She liked it. She was mad a lot and she liked having an excuse. And my uncle said, “I’m so proud of you,” and he was. He was scared because she might’ve died but he was proud because she made the bad soldiers go away and nobody died… nobody good died.
I saw my uncle shoot a police officer and he was more scared because the gun was loud than about anyone dying. I think he was only a little older than you.
I saw my uncle teaching Seth how to shoot a gun and kill people and he was lying about how easy/hard it is to kill people, but he wasn’t lying too… And I think, oh, I think he really meant it about how sometimes you have to and it hurts but you do it to stop other people from being hurt, and stay alive so you can keep doing that…
I don’t think the radio man was lying, I think it all really did happen like that, but it was like lying because he was picking stuff to show me so I’d let him use me to kill people. And I… And I didn’t care!
Milo, I was so scared about how they were hurting my uncle. I love him so much and I couldn’t breathe. I started to think I was drowning and I didn’t want the floaty thing because it was an ugly colour.
And then… and then…
Milo, I don’t think he even meant to say it because he thought I already knew but I didn’t know. I should’ve known but I didn’t know, I swear!
No! They CAN’T kill my uncle! I’M NOT DONE WITH HIM YET!
Then I said okay. I didn’t care if it hurt me, and I didn’t think my uncle would be mad and stop loving me. I wanted to fix it and I knew I could. I didn’t care about killing six people if I could just make my uncle be safe and come home.
Violet stopped me. She told me it was Ed with the matches and I called John. But if it was just me I would’ve done it. I said I would.
I have nightmares and it feels like something in me is loose, but I can’t tell anyone because it’s bad I almost
— killed six people, Milo.)
Erik was crying softly with his hands over his eyes. It felt like when all his baby teeth fell out. His head was full of empty spaces.
I’m sorry…
Milo was still hugging him. Shivering, but he didn’t stop hugging.
Erik heard sobbing and for a couple seconds he thought that was him, because it had to be him. Milo didn’t make noises when he cried.
But then he thought, (I have to grow up and still have him so he can tell me these things when he thinks I’m ready to hear them. Then I can tell him it’s okay and I still love him.) and he knew that wasn’t him. That was him weeks ago, not now. He was scared about losing Milo right now, not Uncle Mordecai.
He took down his hands, turned and looked up.
Milo’s glasses were all steamed up. Tears had run down his cheeks and dampened his shirt collar and his nose was running over his mouth, unhindered except for the occasional sniffle.
(It’s the only thing I can do. Damn it, Violet, tell me where he is! Where are you?)
“Milo,” Erik said softly.
Milo’s clouded glasses swivelled blindly in his general direction. (Milo? Milo, help me… Please!)
Erik shook his head. He sat up, wrapped both arms around Milo’s neck and clung. Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. It’s not happening anymore. It didn’t happen to you. You’re not me…
Erik remembered being under the worktable, crying and rocking back and forth with his fist pulled into his sleeve in case he needed to break a window to get out because of the gas. But it was overlaid by Milo seeing it and thinking about it, like double vision: That happened when John brought the ice cream and I found out what he did to me. I was so scared and so hurt I couldn’t remember who I was or what hurt me. It was worse being Milo because he didn’t have anyone to help him, but I had Auntie Hyacinth to help me, and when I remembered I wasn’t him…
Erik was still shaking his head. He pulled back, trying to break away from the echo and have thoughts of his own: (Milo, you are Milo!)
It felt like part of him was caught. Like Milo had complicated machinery trying to operate inside of him, but Erik just fed it a piece of his shirt. Not even on purpose, he was reaching inside to try to do something else, but the gears were trying to chew up the fabric and eat it so they could keep going, and they weren’t made for that. They weren’t letting go and his arm was in there and his whole body, and if it didn’t stop dragging him closer he was going to break it and it was going to kill him…
Erik drew himself against Milo with his knees to his chest and shut his eye. (Please don’t do this, Milo. You don’t have to feel these things. They’re not yours. They’re too hard for you. They’re my things. I’m used to them!)
Milo shook his head at Erik. This is my fault, the gods didn’t do this to him. They don’t show him things. I did this because I pushed it. I don’t know what to do, it’s too close, it…
Erik and Milo thought/saw at the same time (or maybe it was just one person thinking?) two dolls made out of flour sacks with gingham dishrag dresses, pushed together because they couldn’t hold hands, and then something happened on accident and it wasn’t two dolls anymore, it was this thing with four arms and one dress in two different colours divided down the middle, and maybe the dolls were hurt that way and you couldn’t get them apart except with scissors…
We/I shouldn’t have played this…
Erik made a low, desperate sound and shoved back from Milo, spilling himself onto the cold floor. He scrabbled backwards until his back hit the bottom of the stairs and it still wasn’t enough. (Milo, don’t. Milo, don’t. You have to let go too. I can’t breathe. It hurts, I can’t breathe!)
(This is too much for one person,) Milo thought. (It hurts. I can’t let it…) And then, huge and heavy like a blow, words like letters carved out of a stone mountain. Not a child’s voice. Not even an adult. Something much bigger. Something with a hundred arms and all of them terrifyingly strong —
(MILO, GODDAMMIT, YOU CAN’T HOLD THESE THINGS FOR HIM. THEY’RE NOT YOURS.)
(LET)
(HIM)
(GO)
(NOW!!)
Milo gasped a tearing breath and clapped both hands over his mouth to stifle the sound. He tried to run and he went down on one knee. He half-stumbled, half-crawled, and when he made it under the worktable and his back thumped against the solid security of the wall, he bent forward and retched. His head hurt and he felt sick like when he fell at the factory, but he couldn’t throw up. He drooled what tasted like acid onto the floor beside him, then he wiped his mouth and put both hands over his face. He couldn’t cry.
Milo, what the hell were you thinking? Why did you do that? What did you do?
Don’t, Ann. Don’t, Ann. Please. Please…
You’ve hurt us! I live here, too, Milo! Look at this place! Look at this… this… I don’t even know what this is! This mess! I’m not going to clean it up, I don’t know if I even can. Why would you do something like this? As if he’d thrown an entire washtub full of pond muck and weeds on their clean kitchen floor for no reason at all.
Milo found that insulting. It sobered him like a slap. He had reasons. She should know he didn’t do stuff like that for no reason. It’s Erik’s mess, Ann. And that’s only a little bit of it. It’s like that inside him all the time. I didn’t want him to go back to being alone and having all that all by himself to deal with, but I couldn’t fix it that way, I just made more. There was a… a…
He didn’t know. He didn’t understand it when it happened. He couldn’t understand it, he just felt it, but it was big and it broke them apart. It yelled at him. Way worse than Ann.
He didn’t think it was human.
Milo, whatever this thing is you can do, it’s not safe and it’s not to play with! It’s like a gun! You hurt us and you hurt Erik, too, you know that, don’t you? You must never do that again. I suppose you can’t stop him from knowing things, and whatever it is that helps you understand him — I don’t think that’s you — but don’t push it like that. That was you and it was on purpose, so don’t do it again. If you’re going to talk to Erik, you use cards and a pencil like for everyone else!
Milo shook his head. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve. He wasn’t crying anymore since that thing broke them apart, but he was still all wet. He rolled forward to his hands and knees. His braid slipped over his shoulder and brushed the floor. Ann, I have to play with the gun some more.
WHAT? Milo, no…
Yes, because Erik is hurt and I saw what’s hurting him and how he needs me to help. Then I’ll stop and I won’t anymore, but I need to do this now.
I won’t let you!
You can’t stop me. We both live here but it’s my name on the lease.
Erik saw Milo crawling closer to talk to him. Maybe to touch him, to comfort him. He flung his body backwards to get away and hit the stairs again. He shook his head. He kept shaking his head. No. No-no-no. Please, no…
He saw — and he knew Milo was thinking of it this way too — Milo sitting on the basement floor and holding a gun in his lap. He didn’t know if there was a bullet in there or not, maybe there was one in every chamber, but he couldn’t check it. He lifted the gun, spun the cylinder and put it to his head.
Milo didn’t come any nearer. He sat back and drew up his legs. He looked almost like how he imagined but no gun. Not a real one.
(Erik I won’t hug you or touch you if you don’t want. I know how scary that is sometimes, even if you want hugging. I know why you’re scared of me and I hope it’s just for right now. I’m sorry that happened, but we did it because you needed help and I didn’t help you yet. I have to talk to you to help you. Then I promise I won’t do this anymore, and if I screw it up now it’s my fault, okay?)
Click.
Erik covered his eyes with both hands. He shook his whole upper body, back and forth. “Do… a… card!” he cried.
Milo spun the cylinder and put the gun to his head again.
(I can’t. This is too big. This is bigger than wallpaper. I’m not even sure I could get this across if I could talk to you. I need you to see so you’ll believe me. I can’t take the things that are hurting you but I can give you this.)
Click. Spin.
(I understand. I know you don’t want to make Maggie’s deal with me because I’m not strong enough to stop a god if you call one and it could hurt me if I tried. But I’m not worried about you hurting me. I would’ve done the same. Not me-as-you. Me. To save someone I love.
(I can’t promise you I’m not bad. I wonder about that a lot. I don’t think the decision made you bad, though. Or me. It was really scary and you had to do something right away or you might lose him. I still love you and everyone here would still love you if you told them about it. I know I got scared about what you’re dealing with and you don’t like to scare people so I understand why you don’t want to tell. I won’t unless I think you need help that I can’t give you.)
Click. Spin.
(But this is the really important part, Erik. It wasn’t a fair choice. That radio man wouldn’t let you have a fair choice. I know that because I’m outside you and outside of it happening and I can see. There had to be other Invisibles who could’ve helped you, or even regular people like John, but he wouldn’t leave you alone and let you think who to ask or how. It was him or nothing and that’s not fair. It was too scary for you to know that and you feel too bad about it to figure it out for yourself, but…)
Bang.
Erik thought of a little boy standing in a long hallway full of doors, but he was stuck there with a big bully who kept pushing him towards one and wouldn’t even let him look around. He was this boy and knew how he felt, but he was also watching the boy and thinking how this was too hard and not fair.
And when he picked a door and opened it, there were a whole bunch of people behind it, everyone from the house, and Ann and Milo standing next to each other, and the kids from the neighbourhood and strangers he didn’t even know. They all had party hats and they threw streamers and there was a big banner that said, Congratulations! You’re A Murderer! You Didn’t Do It This Time But You Will! That’s Who You Are! And they gave him a sash that had I’m a Bad Person on it and a bag with party favours that said, We Hate You!
And this was happening to him and hurting him, but he was also standing back from it and watching and going, That’s not fair. That’s not how it is. You didn’t even go through the door, but it wouldn’t have been like that if you did. They wouldn’t be happy to hate you, they’d be sad it happened and they’d understand and help you.
There was that sense of doubling again, like when Milo watched Erik’s memory. The boy who was watching dropped a hand on the shoulder of the boy at the door and turned him around.
They looked at each other, and looked at each other looking at each other. One of them had fine white hair and grey eyes and green skin. He was wearing a white shirt and short pants with grey stockings, and a sash that said I’m a Bad Person. The other boy had short red hair, brown eyes and a grey uniform with long pants and a fish symbol on the pocket — it looked like pyjamas. It was long pants because he didn’t do running around and playing so they might get torn, he was supposed to work. Milo looked like that when he was eight.
The boy in the workhouse uniform ripped down the sash and let it fall, crumpled, to the floor. “Don’t do that, Erik,” he said. “You don’t have someone inside you to make you stop, so I’m doing it for you, but I can’t stay. If you need help about this, I’ll help you. Not like this again because it hurts, but I’ll draw with you and do cards. I love you and I understand and I promise to always do that instead of hang labels on you about how bad you are.” He put both arms around the green boy and hugged.
The green boy crossed his arms behind the workhouse boy’s back and hugged too. “Thank you, Milo. I love you too. I know this is really hard for you and I wish I could be all fixed from it. I know we both know it won’t be easy like that, but thank you for doing it. It helps a lot.”
Milo drew back and smiled at him. “That’s all I wanted to do.” He let go on his own this time and took a few steps away. “I gotta go, though. I left my sister home alone.”
Erik waved a hand. “Please be okay. Both of you.”
The boy in the workhouse uniform grinned. “I don’t really do ‘okay,’ Erik. But you can’t break it if it’s already broken!”
He faded, and everything faded around him.
It was dark, and Erik blinked open his eye automatically. The metal one was pressed against Milo’s shirt and making an irritated clicking noise in his head — probably looking for lines so it could start filling out those checklists about what he wanted it to do. Boy, he didn’t even go to sleep, but he still upset it, and now it was scolding him.
He took it out and put it in his shirt pocket.
They were sitting on the floor next to each other, holding each other. Milo cross-legged, and Erik on his knees. He sat back, the floor was uncomfortable like that.
Milo’s glasses were all steamed up again and his head was bowed.
“Milo…?” Erik managed softly.
There wasn’t an answer. Erik froze up on saying the name and just smacked him on the shoulder, hard.
Milo wobbled, then he removed his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He looked up at Erik and twitched his best attempt at a smile. He tapped a finger on his temple, then made a beaky mouth with his other hand and flapped it. Quack, quack, quack, like the duck.
Erik gave a weak laugh that was more relief than amusement. “Ann’s… mad.”
Milo nodded. He made the motion of an explosion with both hands.
Erik sang along with the radio. It was “Georgy Girl” now. He didn’t know how many songs it had been since “Brand New Key.”
“You were really brave, Milo,” he said. He frowned. “But it was dangerous. We don’t know what it is and if we try to find out we’re gonna get hurt. She’s not wrong. Don’t be mad at her for being mad, okay?”
Milo shook his head and made an expansive gesture. Don’t worry. I know it was stupid. When she knows I know it, she’ll just be glad I’m safe.
“Do you think she could’ve come with you if she wanted?” Erik asked.
Milo shrugged, then shook his head and scolded with a finger, We’re not going to try to find it out.
Erik caught a vague image of the workhouse boy and the green boy with short pants. They had a box of matches and a can of gasoline. Let’s figure out how fire works! they said, smiling.
Then, much clearer, a tombstone: Erik & Milo/They Were/Extremely Stupid.
Erik nodded. “Yeah.” He crawled into Milo’s lap and hugged again, no words this time.
They were like that when Hyacinth came down and wanted to know if Milo could fix Mordecai’s shirt — which she had just ruined with bleach.
Let’s figure out how bleach works, Milo thought in Erik’s general direction, but he didn’t push.
He wasn’t sure if Erik heard, but Erik smiled at him.
