Day One Hundred and Sixty: Clean Up

Lots of school children in today. They walked around in crocodiles, sticky paws desperate for a go on the Butter Mouse’s machine. My job was to manage to queue. They kept asking questions about where she came from. Why she swam funny. I did the best I could.

All of them got a go, and all of them saw skiers flying down snowy mountains. Coincidence?

We offer a lunch package for educational tours. Jam sandwiches and mochi are included as standard. None wiped their hands.

Deni and I agreed to stay after work to clean up the mess. A mistake. The sticky marks were harder to remove from the glass than dried seaweed.

The Butter Mouse floated by, watching our efforts, displaying the different rivulets and marks on her skin. A few cracks still run through her left fin, and she still moved with a preference to the right. 1618 and 1620 are empty at the moment, and she lit up the surrounding area like a lightbulb. And maybe I have run the clips too many times, but her calls appeared to vibrate through the glass. Rising and falling every few minutes.

I took my time on every smear and stain. Deni dipped her cloth and hoodie in the water, and scrubbed both on the tank. Dirt from her hoodie left long muddy half circles on the glass. I made sure to follow after. We worked in a silence more comfortable than I thought possible five months.

When something clattered in the nearby corridor, I was sure the Butter Mouse was here. The one who stalks with a knife. Here to melt my friend down into a silver puddle.

Again the noise rattled out, and I fell backwards against Deni. We had never even had a hug. The metal of their frame was unrelenting against my skin. The mustyness of their jumper, and the cold underneath.

Deni pushed me back up like I was a loose plank of wood. 

‘It is….the new arrivals… in 1600. Link said…they knock…like…angry postmen.’

I had forgotten about the new arrivals with hammer noses, which banged against their thanks. Thank goodness for reinforced glass. We got back on with our job. I still took a few glances down the tunnel. Towards the emergency exit. An easy vault even for the unfit. 

We left together. I thought about asking Deni if she needed someone to walk them home, but they were gone without a proper goodbye.

A bit embarrassed when I got to the flat. But nice to hang out with them, and the Butter Mouse. Had a first bolt of raw fear about the other one patrolling the streets. Those words written into metal.

‘I can only show you the compassion of fingers trapped in a closing door.’

Kept my windows locked for the first time since I was seven.

Clip: More footage from the vehicle. Nothing we have not seen before, but still, this is a record of another dimension. And are they synching together?