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Maybe the pain was making me finally crack, but I was here now. I’d go the final distance.
I’d made it about a quarter of the way up when the feeling of my insides being shredded seemed to ease. I stopped walking, trying to evaluate it. Yes, it was definitely a little better. Another few steps and it diminished a bit more. The pain wasn’t gone, far from it, but it was definitely more bearable, as if some of the pressure was being released the closer I got to where I’d fallen. Did this mean I was crazy? Maybe, but I didn’t care if it was all in my head and a delusion helped it. I’d take anything I could get.
The same guy who had been operating the toll bridge the other day was here again. Would he remember me?
I froze, panic immobilizing me as the toll bridge man stepped out of his booth and headed toward me. Was he going to tell me to leave? Threaten to call the cops? This was the most peace I’d had all day. I couldn’t go. I’d chain myself to a pole if I had to.
He continued toward me, tapping his watch.
“We have a schedule, you know. I don’t open up whenever you want.” He put his hands on his hips. “That stunt you pulled last time? Running past me? No more of those. This time you wait untilIsay it’s okay, and then you get to go into the outpost.”
The toll guy was one ofthem? Or was I just completely gone? Some schizophrenics saw people and things that didn’t exist. Were they real, or was I crazy?
I looked him over, his uniform, his slightly mussed salt-and-pepper hair. If I’d made him up, I was doing a very good job. I reached out a hand and touched his shirt. Itfeltsolid.
“What are you doing?” he asked, growing more agitated as he swatted my hand away.
“You’re really here, right? You’re not, like, some weird figment of my imagination?” If he was in my head, would I be honest with myself after I’d gone through all this trouble of making him up?
“This is why I hate newbies. Thankfully for the rest of us, you’re rare. You have no idea how annoying your self-centered questions are, as if I wouldn’t exist ifyouhadn’t thought me up.” He did a little jazz-hand motion, with a mocking face to match.
Okay, if I was crazy, my psychotic delusions were also telling me I was an egomaniac. This was not a good day by anyone’s standards. Couldn’t I have nicer imaginary people? Would I really make all of them such assholes?
Yeah, I might.
“And now you just stroll up, not caring that I have a schedule,” he said. “I can’t just open and close at your whim every time you want to come and go, so let’s clear that up right now.” He was pointing at me.
He looked so real that I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed his finger.
He smacked my hand, so hard it burned a bit.
“Stop. Touching. Me.” He took a step back, as if I’d touch him again if he wasn’t on guard.
There was a mark on my hand, complete with a little dent from his ring. I wasn’t wearing rings. I couldn’t have made that dent if I’d hit myself.
This was real, but I wasn’t sure if that was better than being insane. It wasn’t in my head, and some really crazy shitwashappening, I felt like I might die if I didn’t do something.
I reached out a hand, and the toll bridge guy jerked back. I pulled my hand back quickly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep touching you. I won’t do it again. I just really need to get to the outpost.”
He eyed me, keeping his distance like I was a feral dog with fleas. I’d been called worse.
“Can I wait? I’ll wait until you’re ready.” If he said no, I wasn’t above getting on my knees and begging.
The stench of my desperation seemed to soften him a little.
“I didn’t tell you to go away. I just said we don’t open and close on a whim. But as it happens, I was going to open soon anyway. Go over there and I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” He pointed to a spot a good bit away from any risk of accidental touching.
“Do you have a copy of the schedule so I know in the future?” I had a bad feeling I’d be coming back again.
“We don’t keep copies of the schedule lying around, and we certainly don’t hand them out to justanyone.” He looked me up and down, making it very clear I was one of those vagueanyonesthat were deemed unimportant.
“How will I know when I can come?” I wasn’t leaving here without some definitive answers now that I knew just how bad it could get.
“When you want to cross, you come here and I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” He tilted his chin up, giving me anI’m the bosslook.
“Do you have a phone number I can call or text instead of having to make the drive?”
“I don’t give out my number, and your questions are giving me a headache.”
