Born Weird (14 page)

C
OLLECTIVELY, AS A HERD OF
Weirds, they ran towards Kent’s room. None of them knew for certain whether Abba’s gasp had been provoked by joy or fear. Kent had spent years living like a squatter, being homeless in his own home, and they had no idea what he was capable of—or what he’d created in there.

Angie was last inside. Seeing it stopped her cold. Then she started to sob.

“Crybaby,” Kent whispered.

Kent had rebuilt Rainytown. Their cardboard city stretched between all four walls of his old room. But he had done so much more than simply set up the houses and the buildings. Using clear tape he’d repaired every tear in every piece of cardboard. He’d reinforced the larger multi-storey buildings with popsicle sticks. For the interior of Abba’s castle he’d used chopsticks and duct tape.

Every building had been repainted and not one of them was a shade away from its original colour, even the pink on Abba’s castle. The lettering on the signs had been darkened
and redrawn but Kent had been able to keep the original handwriting. The sign above the Endoh World Laundry-Matt was still recognizably Abba’s. The Terminal Bus Terminal was still in Richard’s thirteen-year-old scrawl.

He’d added things too. The most obvious was that he’d run electricity into town. Tiny proportionally sized lampposts ran down both sides of every street. The lights were on inside every building that would have been open after dark. So a yellow glow came out of The Stake House, the only restaurant in Rainytown catering to the vampire population. It was also on in The Hanging Garden, where at the end of every meal the customers were not served with a check, but a noose. Yet Dr. U. Vernt Goodenough’s Plastic Surgery Palace, The Cut Brakes Used Car Lot, and Styx and Stoners Used Musical Instruments were dark.

“Is it perfect?” Kent asked.

It took Angie a second to understand that he was talking to her. She was still noticing details, like the black pipe cleaners he’d used to twist their family name into the front gate of the Rainytown Bone Orchard. And how the paper flowers on their father’s grave were fresh.

“Yes. It is,” Angie said.

“It really is,” Richard said.

“Better than before,” Abba said.

“Much better,” Lucy said.

“Good,” Kent said. He raised his hands above his head. He opened and closed his fingers as if they were claws.
Then he took one big awkward Godzilla-like step towards Rainytown.

“No! Kent! Don’t!” Angie yelled.

At the very edge of Rainytown, his foot raised in the air, Kent stopped. He looked up at the ceiling. “Rwarrrrrrrr,” Kent screamed. The word he’d used was at best a pale imitation of a sound remembered from the monster movies they’d watched so long ago. Yet it conveyed so much pain and sadness and anger that none of them could imagine a better one. It said everything they were feeling. What none of them had ever figured out how to express. Kent stepped forwards and he stomped on the water tower, grinding it into the floor as if he were extinguishing a cigarette.

Richard did not hesitate. He screamed and raised his hands over his head and took out most of Maimstreet with one sweeping kick. Abba went straight for the castle, pulling it down with her teeth and then spitting out its paper foundation. Lucy worked her way up Blood & Guts Boulevard, hopping on top of one building and then the next. Stopping his path of destruction Kent looked over his shoulder at Angie.

“Rwarr?” he asked, tenderly.

“Rwarr,” she repeated. Holding her stomach she stepped forwards and destroyed the cemetery with a single kick of her socked foot. They continued jumping and tearing and screaming.

Within minutes, Rainytown lay in ruins.

BOOK THREE:
The Theory of Snakes and Sharks

A
S THE AUTOMATIC DOORS TO
Lester B. Pearson International Airport slid open, the Weirds—plus Paul—had done what they could. They’d spent the day before packing and buying tickets and trying to get cleaned up. Kent’s hair and beard had been trimmed and they’d bought him new clothes. Lucy’s and Angie’s mom-made haircuts were tucked under woollen caps. Richard bought the tickets online with his platinum card and at the check-in counter he did all the talking. The six of them received their boarding passes and checked their luggage without incident.

They passed through security without a frisk or an alarm. In the designated waiting area beside Gate 23 they waited for twenty-six minutes. Then flight AC808 from Toronto to Vancouver began to board.

Their strategy was to put those they anticipated causing the most problems at the front. The hope was that the weight of suspicion wouldn’t accumulate until the sketchiest of them was already on board. Kent went first. He showed his boarding pass. The flight attendant didn’t notice that his driver’s
licence was expired. He was waved ahead. At the back of the line Angie tried not to look too relieved.

The flight attendant commented on how much she liked Lucy’s hat. She gave Abba a respectful nod, and she did not question her Uplifftian passport. Richard was sent forwards with a flirtatious smile. In Angie’s mind the worst was over. With Paul behind her, she stepped forwards and presented her boarding pass. The flight attendant looked her over. First her eyes rested on the phone number on her forearm. Then they lowered to her stomach.

“Do you have a note?” the flight attendant asked. She chewed her gum. She blew a small pink bubble, which broke.

“I have my boarding pass.”

“From your doctor.”

“I’m not sick.”

“How many weeks along are you?”

“Let’s call it thirty-six. She’s a kicker.”

“Sorry,” said the flight attendant. She obviously wasn’t. Seeing an opportunity to exercise the scant authority she’d been endowed with, she continued. “I can’t let you fly. We can’t let anyone beyond thirty-five weeks board.”

“Oh. Sorry, then. I simply made a mistake. I’m only thirty-four weeks along.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Excuse me?” Angie asked the flight attendant. “I’ve boarded several flights just this week.”

“The safety and security of
all
passengers on board is one of my chief responsibilities.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t do it,” Paul whispered into Angie’s ear.

“I’m sorry, those are the rules,” the flight attendant said.

There are several explanations for what Angie said next. She had not slept well in many days. There were hormones racing through her body. She was literally inches away from achieving an impossible goal. But in truth, Angie simply couldn’t believe that a come-to-life self-righteous Barbie had this much power over her. The woman’s hair was too perfectly pulled into a bun. Her feet did not seem pinched in her high heels, which caused her no effort to stand in. Her white blouse had that one extra button open. The very tilt of her head said that this job was just something she was doing until someone rich made her his wife. And the height that her bra lifted her boobs made it clear that she wouldn’t be waiting long.

“My dear girl …” Angie said.

“Just don’t do it,” Paul repeated.

Angie stopped. She regained her composure. The flight attendant blew yet another bubble. When it popped so did Angie. “Don’t be such a cunt!” Angie yelled, emphasizing the
t
.

The flight attendant was speechless. A full second passed in which she did not react at all. Then she held up Angie’s boarding pass and ripped it in two. She tore the halves into quarters. She let the pieces fall from her hands. Angie
watched the white paper squares flutter to the floor. And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Kent rushing towards them.

Two security guards tackled Kent before he even got close. His face hit the carpet. His lip burst open. Blood landed on the collar of his clean white shirt. The taller guard pressed a knee into the small of Kent’s back. The other one forced Kent’s arms behind him. At no time did Kent resist.

“You let him go!” Abba screamed.

“He’s done nothing wrong!” Richard yelled.

“Right now! Let him go right now!” Lucy yelled.

The guard put his giant right hand on the back of Kent’s head. Yet Kent easily looked up at Angie. The fabric of his shirt outlined the muscles in his arms. He started to stand, taking both guards with him.

“Don’t, Kent,” Angie said “I’m so sorry. Please don’t make it worse.” Kent looked at Angie. “Please?”

Kent nodded and then he lowered himself back to the carpet. The guards were confused. Then they quickly secured Kent’s hands behind his back.

Angie turned to the flight attendant. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “We’ll just leave. All of us.”

The security guards were happy to have Kent. They nodded their consent and the flight attendant acquiesced. Angie touched Lucy and Abba on the shoulder. She took Richard by the hand. Paul followed as they left Kent behind.

For three hours they stood on the sidewalk in front of Lester B. Pearson International Airport. Planes flew overhead. Angie watched vapour trails criss-cross and dissolve. Just after noon she looked back at her family. Abba sat on the sidewalk with her hands folded in her lap. Lucy’s eyes were red-rimmed. Paul hovered several steps behind, as if awaiting instructions. Richard stood by himself, to the right, with a cigarette in his mouth and a Zippo in his hand, both of which were unlit. To Angie they looked like a painting in the Renaissance style. And then Kent walked into it.

Kent stood so perfectly between Lucy and Richard that his appearance didn’t demand attention. It completed the picture. The two guards who’d escorted him stepped into the background. Kent took the lighter from Richard’s hand. He brushed it against his jeans. He held the flame to the end of the cigarette. Richard exhaled before he realized how odd this was.

“Jesus!” Richard said.

“It’s like, what, two days? Two days and a bit?” Kent asked. He capped the Zippo and handed it back to Richard. “If the Shark’s not kicking until the twentieth and we drive it in shifts, really fast, we can make it.”

“He could be right,” Angie said.

“We’ll just rent a car!” Lucy said. She was too impressed by Kent’s idea to be surprised by his presence.