The Great Anomaly

THE GREAT ANOMALY

The stars were like hot cinders scattered across the sky of the apocalypse. Her eyes were two olives, black pearls without pits. I wandered into the outdoor café, with its tables and multicolored umbrellas, sprouting from the boardwalk like vinyl-skinned mushrooms above painted, steel lily pads.

She said, "My esophagus is eroded."

I said, "Try this," and handed her some medication, along with a bottle of salad dressing.

She said, "I prefer oil and vinegar."

I said, "I, too, derive special satisfaction from ageless simplicity."

"Have you studied taekwondo?"

"Of course not—but I can easily apply a wrist-lock, an arm-bar, a debilitating nerve strike."

"Ah, your education is complete."

"Where are you from?" I said. "What has brought you to this place?"

"I have a spaceship," she replied, "but I have no map."

"Have you been to Tokyo?"

"No, but I've been to Saturn."

"Oh, the sushi there is sub-par, but the iridescent ice cream is worth any journey."

At this moment, I recalled how my father had refused to let me drive his car when I had reached the age of legal automobile operation. He'd owned a fifteen-year-old vehicle that had belched large quantities of environmental destruction.

"You are daydreaming," she said. "Were you contemplating interplanetary navigation?"

"No. I was wondering why my father wouldn't let me drive."

"Perhaps you were untrustworthy."

"I was not. I built a bicycle from other people's refuse. I created a space-time continuum projector capable of generating a four-dimensional panorama above the kitchen table."

"Many old people place no value on such devices. You should have built a toaster."

"Yes, my father loved toast."

"I like it, myself—with butter."

"Butter contains high amounts of saturated fat."

"I know, but I enjoy it. As a child, my mother fed me high-protein, low-fat nutrients, hoping I would become a supermodel."

"You're very attractive."

"Thank you, but I could never achieve the emaciated appearance so necessary for that vocation. Could you love a girl who swallows butter on a regular basis?"

"I already have. It was long ago. She also enjoyed raspberry preserves."

"How interesting. And what happened?"

"I don't recall. I believe she fell in love with an improbable mathematician."

"Was he less probable than you?"

"No. The improbable is randomly generated quite often. The challenge is to grasp it before it fades back into the equation."

She looked at me, with lips hot and moist like a freshly boiled ocean. She moved toward me, and I cupped her head in my hands as we kissed. She said, "My parents gave me many things, and I should be grateful—but I did not enjoy my childhood."

"Nor did I."

"I know it could have been so much worse. I had a thousand moments of organized comfort, and a safe place to live."

"Yes, so did I."

"But I only wanted to fly, to escape, to navigate the outer reaches of the uncharted regions."

"I know how you felt."

"I wish I'd met you years ago. I wish I'd known you as a child."

"Perhaps we were meant to meet today, on this very day—at this unlikely moment. Perhaps we still have time."

"Will you ride with me, into the great anomaly?"

I reached out, and I grasped the warm flesh of her hand.

We walked on through the night. To our left, the sea was a roaring blanket of cascading possibilities, while high above, the universe was an endless circus of fire and light.

THE END