The community complex cafe was a decent size, about as big as bookstore. Looking at it from above it took the shape of a lower-case R. At the midpoint of the R’s stem, underneath an open skylight, was a porcelain tub. Inside the tub accretions of dirt and grime lined the sides. Old soil, moss, a discarded paper coffee cup, dead insects, plant matter and an inch or two of rainwater floated together to form a shallow swamp. Throughout the community center people moved and idled about, working from their computers or moleskin notebooks, drinking coffee, writing, reading, planning. Odors of doughy pastries and fresh-baked sweets perfumed the air. Walking along side the tub I paused as the light glinted oddly off the dirty green water.
Something seemed to be stirring.
I inched closer to the tub.
Squinting, I craned my neck over the basin to get a better look. Small, pearly white droplets fell into the tub from high above. What struck me immediately was that it wasn’t cloudy outside. The sun was shining out across a blue suede sky. Plop, bloop, plunk went the drops. I watched as the water took on a gelatinous texture. In the goopy water small organisms I’d never seen before were swimming, branching out like strands of mycelium, forming an elaborate web. Quickly I looked around to see if anyone else noticed what was happening, but a sudden splashing sound sent my eyes back to the tub. Something alien was growing, and fast. A fetus-sized creature twitched and thrashed in the water and as it increased in size so did my dread.
“Uhhh,” I said, raising my voice to alert the others, but it was too late.
By the time I transitioned from the U-sound to the H-sound, the thing had grown to the size of a dog. The commotion had attracted the attention of others in the space. Women and children began to shriek as the abomination hurled itself onto the floor beside the tub. Sharklike, it lurched and wobbled about convulsively. Sharp teeth snapped from its ferocious maw and bit viciously at the air. Its face was all teeth. Within seconds legs began to sprout from the thing’s lower body, causing it to produce hellish, squealing vulture sounds. I staggered backwards in disbelief and horror, trembling, barely able to breathe. A second creature flopped out of the tub with a wet thud. It mutated through rapid phases of gestation with the same uncanny speed as the first. People were falling all over themselves running for the door. Tables and chairs went flying. Cups and plates crashed and broke. The first beast swayed and stomped at the cement floor with its new talons and legs, flapping its frail fins like a demented, shark-headed tyrannosaurus. It lunged at a nearby elderly man who had been trying to flee and bit him clean in half. His legs ran on for a few seconds before collapsing onto the floor.
I tried to scream but only a raspy, choked whimper rose out of me. I turned around and ran toward the main exit at the bend of the R. I yanked madly at the door but it was sealed shut. Back by the skylight the monsters were tearing people to pieces. They had sharp, spearlike pincer arms jutting out from their backs now. Bodies were being thrown around like ragdolls. The only other door I could see was at the base of the R. So I dashed toward it. It wasn’t courage that propelled me, it was fear. I wasn’t thinking. My mind was a mess of adrenaline. My legs - not my intellect - seemed to move me. The creatures were too distracted by the others to notice.
I arrived at the door moving too fast to stop. My entire body hit it full force and blew it open. I went sprawling out into piercing white light and fell to the ground. It was pavement. Instinctively my hands shielded my face from the light. Wincing through my fingers my eyes began to adjust and I could make out that I was on some abandoned movie lot. The horizon was painted on. The lot was lifeless; no cars, no cameras, no equipment, no people, no director’s chairs, no nothing.
I didn’t understand.
Looking back at the door I’d come through I realized it was made up to look like a community cafe. But. But if the whole building were a prop…then how was I in there with other people? None of us actors. Where was I? How had I gotten there? What was happening? My head was reeling. I stood up and looked around again.
Nothing changed.
I walked closer to the door I’d come through, where that scene of mad, grisly mayhem still played out. On the doorframe a bulletin had been posted. It showed a picture taken of the storefront printed on faded pink paper. It said: Cavé. Then it dawned on me. This wasn’t real. We were being had. I ripped the bill off the wall and began to laugh. Clutching the pink piece of paper I strode back into the building. I found the nearest person I could and thrust the poster out in front of her. I grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door to show her the fake facade and the emptiness. She went through the same momentary confusion I had. When the bewilderment began to boil off she broke into fit of hysterical laughter. I joined her.
Without speaking, we spoke.
“So, nothing matters?” we asked rhetorically.
“It’s not real,” we laughed.
“So the entire human experience, hahaha,” we started, “the, hahaha, the WHOLE thing, the ups and downs, the pleasure and pain, HAHAHA, the desire, AHHH AHAHAHA, the escapism, the getting old and dying!”
We were holding our heads laughing, leaning against the doorframe to hold ourselves up. Someone saw us and rushed over.
“What are you doing,” he shouted, “run!”
We looked at him and spit shot from our lips. Uproarious laughter took us. Our faces, uncaring irreverent and mirthful, filled the man with consternation. We grabbed his head and pulled it through the doorframe. A moment of silence. Then, as expected, a wild cackle came croaking out from his throat. His Adam’s apple leapt up and down. He bent over slapping his knee as we all wiped tears from our eyes.
“WhAt aRe yOu dOiNg,” we all said mockingly, “RUN!”
We could hardly stand the laughter as we held our stomachs. We were in stitches. Behind us the creatures continued to rampage through the space, indiscriminately slaughtering the people there.
Pure pandemonium.
“So, being human,” we went on as we started to regain some composure, “it’s all a big scam? Everything that happens to us is just a push for us to drink coffee and eat cake and serve as patrons of this nondescript background cafe on an abandoned movie lot? Everything else - religions, laws, society, even our thoughts and feelings - is just an elaborate ruse?”
We howled and brayed and barked with absurd laughter. We were roaring. A severed head flew by and went rolling out into the old lot; marooned, detached, stranded. Its eyes blinked once and slowly opened again before a final bloody breath gurgled out.
“Let’s go back inside,” we said. “We have to tell the others!”
We took one another by the arms and in a whirl of joyous, ecstatic delight, we sailed in like dervishes. We sang and danced and laughed and did backflips over the mutilated corpses that lined the cafe floor. The creatures continued prowling, destroying, expanding, consuming, but that was of no concern to us. In this moment we were happy; tickled pink. We were not going gentle in that good night. No. We were going to let the others know. Even if nothing mattered it still felt better to go laughing instead of crying into that good night. Our time would come eventually. Yes, that much was certain.
A bright red spray of blood, wet, metallic and glistening, misted over my face. Was it mine? I don’t know.
Why worry about it?
