Chapter eight

When we exited the elevator, the deck looked much cleaner than my last visit. The sun was out, but it didn’t look much like the sun I was familiar with. Somehow it was too round, if that’s possible. Also, it was directly above us, just like the strange moon had been the night before. Pretty weird stuff, but compared with the sea of pure trash, I didn’t give it too much attention.

Dex was still smiling, and I began to think that maybe his smile wasn’t on account of the work I completed. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut anyway. I didn’t care all that much if he wasn’t exactly proud of me; I was just happy not to receive a beating.

Dion was leaning against the railing of the ship, relaxed. He was on a break too, and as usual I was happy to see the black dude. I guess I hadn’t seen him chill out like that yet, and that was pleasantly disarming. A vagrant thought of the enormous pile of trash that came off of the elevator when Dex had announced the break had crossed my mind; I really did have my work cut-out for me. I was jealous of Dion’s fine work on the deck, and now I could see why Dex was proud after all – Dex was proud of Dion, not me.

“Hey there again,” Dion said to me, in his beachy drawl. This guy had to surf, or he hung out with surfers at least. “How’s the trash thing going?” I wanted to tell him about it: about the demigod’s shield, and about Queenie, but as my jaw began to open for me to speak – Dex slugged me. It was an affectionate gesture in comparison to his normally souped-up reflexes.

“Dion,” Dex said, “wait a minute.” Again with the waiting. Why the pint-sized pitbull addressed Dion instead of me, I couldn’t tell; I mean, didn’t the kid just hit me? “I need to explain the nature of things here, before you guys begin upsetting the equilibrium of this sacred place.”

“Pipeline,” I blurted out; Dex allowed it. “Just like the sacred one in Hawaii.” Dion smiled at me – he was a surfer! Not to sound like a racist, but he’s got to be the first black surfer I’d ever seen (besides maybe Warchild). Sure it was a dream, but not knowing that at the time, I was duly impressed. A black surfer just seemed too unreal (but not unreal enough to wake me up, I suppose). Okay, that sounded like a racial comment: I apologize.

“Right, that’s what it’s called.” I could almost hear Dex adding, “Dumbass.” I wasn’t stating the obvious for his sake. As his smile faded into his customary smirk, I decided not to shout back a comeback at him. “This place is basically all the crap that ever existed in reality.” Talk about stating the obvious. “When someone somewhere throws something away, it eventually ends up here.”

“So this is that place in the middle of the ocean I’ve heard about? Where all that used up plastic and Styrofoam go someday?” Dion asked. I kept my mouthy trapdoor closed tightly.

“Something like that,” Dex answered him. “Only we’re not quite there.” No time to be cryptic, Dex, I thought to myself. Dion looked as puzzled as I must have.

“Okay, I think I understand you. But how do the objects go from a landfill all the way out here?”

“Think of the ocean as you know it as this great big bathtub.” I couldn’t help but think of my bathtub-shield again. “Now what lies at the bottom of it, do you think?”

“A drain,” black dude said. By now, you can imagine, I was pretty flabbergasted. A plughole at the bottom of the ocean; I mean, I really wasn’t ready to believe anything like that. I let it go for the moment, and listened.

“Right, a drain. So all things, at some point, will be sucked down into this drain. All it takes is for someone to abandon them.”

Trying desperately to be funny, I decided to cut in: “If a tree falls into the ocean, and no one’s around to see it, will it end up here?”

“Yes,” Dex said, honestly. “But there’s a bit more to this place than that.”

“We’re here, though,” Dion stated, putting two and two together. “Does that mean we have been abandoned?”

“In a manner of speaking, possibly.” This was pretty alarming to me. I mean, I still have relatives in California, and since I didn’t know about the dream, I wasn’t ready to believe I had been abandoned. “There are other ways to get here, though. Pipeline can lead to a place where objects and people are found.”

Now he just sounded like a hymn or else an awful country song. I understand now, he must’ve meant something like this: if you are forgotten here in our world, you may show up in Pipeline. Also, if you are desired at the other end of that pipe, then you can be found over there. Pretty deep shit, if you ask me. I figure, someone must have wanted me on the other side of the pipe. I didn’t quite get it at the time though, so naturally I kept my mouth shut.

“Well, I’ve got family back home, so someone must be trying to find me,” Dion said.

“I’m sure of it,” Dex said. “I’m not so sure about the rat though. Rats always go missing, and no one really cares.” Dex threw me another one of his classic sarcastic glances. “Isn’t that right, Lester?”

I nodded. He nodded back at me, as if to say, “Good. You’re learning to shut the fuck up.”

“One last thing,” Dex said. “And then you two can enjoy a little R and R together, catching up on old times and shit. The concepts of abandonment and discovery function here within the Pipeline as well. Should either of you desire something, then there’s a good chance it could show up here.”

“Is that how that longboard showed up earlier?” Dion asked, indicating a long strip of fiberglass or wood that he’d tied to a mast. Black dude conjured himself a surfboard! Dion was saving it for something – one man’s trash is another’s joyride.

“Yep,” Dex said. “Good job, by the way. It doesn’t work for everyone, but it did for you.” Little man seemed to be implying that it wasn’t going to work for me. Fuck him, I thought, I can still read minds.

“Likewise though, be wary: if you abandon something here – forgetting all about it – you probably won’t be able to find it without some significant effort on your part. So be careful what you wish for.”

And with those magic words, he waved good-bye and hopped in the elevator to God-knows-where on that big-assed ship.