Limbo 56 - Mike Morris (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📗

One little push from me and you go straight to Hell.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t,” he told Jimmy as she went away, growling. “Apart from any other considerations, we only get a few women, and they all look pretty much like her.” He sighed. “I haven’t been able to keep tabs on things since I lost my accountant, but there should be one bottle of the real stuff behind that bar. “Carrie,” he yelled, “Now!”

She came back grumbling, with a bottle with a familiar label. About an inch of golden liquid lapped forlornly at the bottom of the bottle. Carefully, she poured two shots, and stood looking stonily as the thin man sniffed. “Leave the bottle,” he ordered. There’s at least one more shot in there.”

“It must be very difficult for her,” Jimmy said, “with all that piss and vinegar behind the bar, to keep her hands off a drop of real stuff.”

“She doesn’t drink,” the thin man said, “She was one of those abolitionists when she was alive – preaching about the perils of Demon Drink.” Jimmie looked at him. “She trades it for sex,” the thin man said. “Here,” he continued, “drink up.” They swallowed real whisky and the thin man poured the last two half shots. “Of course, I could live well, Limbo well, at least, if I wanted to. Somehow, I feel a responsibility for this miserable place and these miserable people.”

“Well don’t worry about me,” Jimmy said. “Either I’m insane, which I’m not, or this really is Limbo, and I’m dead.”

“If you were dead,” the Governor said, “you would be working in the foundry right now, burning off the occasional toe, losing the occasional finger, probably being as big a cock-up as your grandfather was, before he wangled the recruiter job.” He finished his whisky. “You being alive and here causes a lot of problems, and there’ll be a lot more if the Angels or Devils find out.” He sniffed. “There has to be a reason you didn’t get sucked right out of here the moment you stepped out of that ‘plane, and I think it has something to do with good old Jimmy Wheeler senior, your crooked grandfather.”

“Can’t you just take me to this Gateway I keep hearing about?” Jimmy asked, “so that I can walk out.”

“We had a whole army here once,” the Governor said, “and they couldn’t leave until they were ready. They were dead, too, except for one Corporal. He was in a coma, but when his General marched them all through the tunnel, out of that battlefield Hell, he marched with them, out of loyalty.”

“I don’t even know my grandfather,” Jimmy said. “Much less have any loyalty towards him. I’ve never seen him, and from what I hear, I don’t want to see him.”

“You must speak to him,” the Governor said flatly. “There has to be a connection. We have to get you out of here, back to your body and your life.”

Jimmy sighed. “I’m in Limbo, but I’m not dead. I shouldn’t be here, and I’m causing problems. Is that a reasonable summary of my position?” he asked.

“Yes.” The Governor frowned. “I really have better things to do with my time than deal with you. Every time I look at you I think of your grandfather, the man who got me into this mess.” He stood up. “Something tells me I have to get you out of here. Believe me; I’m not usually this thoughtful and sympathetic.” He frowned again. “I suppose I’m worried about what Jimmy might do if he thinks I’m holding his grandson hostage, or possibly I’d like to introduce you two, so he owes me a favour.”

“I don’t see why my grandfather should be pleased to see me,” Jimmy said reasonably. “I’ve never met him, and from all I hear, he’s a nasty piece of work.”

“You know, everything seems to be connected in these little Limbos,” the Governor said. “We’re mostly from similar backgrounds; we were mostly born in the same place. You’re alive, which means you’re an anomaly here. You are like a splinter in my finger, and I intend to extract you. Come on,” he said, moving towards the door. We’re going outside, to the real world.”

“Now,” Jimmy asked stupidly.

“Neither of us really needs sleep. I’ve thought about this for a while, and I can’t seem to come up with a plan. We might as well just go.”

They walked the damp streets and the thin man told him about the Angels and the Undead, the Lost Souls and the Devils. “We’ll see if my instincts were correct,” the thin man said as they neared a corner. “See that wall ahead,” the thin man pointed. “That’s The End. Round the corner is the real world.”

“What’s on the other side of the wall,” Jimmy asked.

“Everyone asks that,” the thin man said. “Five and twenty years ago, some soldiers tried to drive a tank through it. After they broke the tank, they climbed on top of it, and then made a human pyramid, and one of them jumped over the top. He disappeared, and a couple of hours later he came up behind them. It seems that, over the wall was the other gateway to our Limbo.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jimmy asked.

“Walk round the corner with me,” the Governor said. “If I’m right, we’ll be close to where your grandfather is recruiting,”

“And if not?”

“If not, you’ll get a sore nose.”

It was nighttime, cool and dry. A line of extinguished gas-lamps pointed to a dark city. The sign read ‘Birmingham’. Jimmy the recruiter favoured big cities. “He’d better be close by,” the thin man muttered.

“I used to live near here,” Jimmy said distastefully.

“We all did,” the Governor answered enigmatically.

Wartime Birmingham was drab and quiet in the early evening. Jimmy senior was an indefinable presence that they both felt. He was close to the center of the city and they followed the tram tracks. Occasionally, a shadowy cream and blue tram rattled jarringly past, carrying pale passengers to and from work. A few cars crept along, feebly following dim blacked-out headlights, and an occasional watery light spilled from a dim pub. Living inhabitants flitted by like ghosts, not noticing them. An old man tottered by, crushing a fist into his narrow chest, and the Governor handed him directions to Limbo56.

“Just north of here is my territory,” Arthur said. “He won’t go there.” They both sensed that the recruiter was nearby. A grimy pub wafted beer smells down the street, and they pushed through the scarred doors.

“Birmingham was better than this, when I last saw it,” Jimmy said in obscure defense of a place that he told himself that he hated.

“There he is,” Arthur said, and Jimmy looked curiously at his ancestor. The man he saw was possibly a few years older than he was, and, although closely resembling his grandson, was subtly different. There was an easy, practiced look of good-fellowship pasted onto his features, and he wore the uniform of an infantry private. He was still talking to a sick-looking workingman when Arthur lifted him from the seat. “You’ve been cutting into my territory again, Jimmy,” he said, and the sick-looking man sidled away.

“You crazy bastard,” Jimmy whined. “Won’t you ever leave me alone?”

“I brought your grandson to see you,” Arthur said grimly, and the recruiter focused his gaze on the man in the RAF uniform.

“He looks like me,” Jimmy Senior said. “Why isn’t he working in the foundry? He’s dead; he’s no use to either of us now.” He looked uneasily at both of them. “Don’t go hitting me,” he said.

“I’ve told your grandson what a bastard you are,” Arthur said. “He’s quite capable of beating you to a jelly. I think he has a couple of questions to ask you.” He looked expectantly at the young RAF officer.

Jimmy shook his head. His likeness stood across the table from him, but he felt no real emotion for the grandfather he had never known. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t have anything to say to him. He’s a stranger to me.”

Arthur shook his head irritably. “You were meant to talk to him, I know it. We all live in a small universe, you, me, Jimmy, the other inhabitants of Limbo56. We keep crossing paths, we’re all connected.” He faced the recruiter. “He’s not dead,” he’s out here, somewhere, wounded. I don’t know why he wandered into my territory.”

Jimmy Senior shrugged. “Let me know if he dies. He looks like a prime candidate for Limbo.” Arthur raised his fist, but the airman stopped him.

“I know my dad’s a miserable coward, but why did you abandon him and my aunt when they were just babies.”

Jimmy shrugged. “Because I’m me. Why do you think we’re all rolling around in Limbo? We’re all bastards, including him,” he said pointing to Arthur. “He was unfaithful, violent sometimes, an uncaring drunk. He was killed in a bar fight.” Arthur was silent. “And you’re no better,” he turned to his grandson. “I’ve been keeping track of you. You pretend to be an officer, better than the rest of us. Did you know,” he asked, that your cold-blooded ambition has almost caused the death of a couple of your fellow pilots? You care more…” he stopped.

“I thought you didn’t care about him,” Arthur said.

“I’m just waiting for him to make a slip,” Jimmy Senior said grimly, and then I’ll have him off to Limbo, or down to Hell. Did you know,” he said, turning to Arthur, “that I send a percentage down there now.” He shrugged. “One day, I’ll cash in all my favours and retire upstairs and laugh at you all.”

“Let’s go,” the young pilot said bitterly. “I have nothing to say to him. He’s almost as bad as my father.”

He walked into the night, and Arthur followed him slowly. “I don’t understand,” Arthur said. “I don’t know why we’re here.”

“You’re here so I can do you a favour.” Jimmy the recruiter stood behind them. “Remember Corporal Williams,” he told Arthur. “He’s ready to leave the real world.” He fished out an ordinary file card. “Give me one of yours, and you can have him.”

“What kind of bargain is that?” Arthur said, “The corporal is going to Heaven, so why would I trade him for one of my hot prospects.” He looked at the recruiter for a moment. “Alright,” he said, producing a card. “Come on,” he told the airman, “We have some traveling to do. – this way”

They plodded along in the dark for a few minutes until a feebly lit red bus, covered in mud crept past. They ran to it and jumped on the open platform. A conductor bustled up with his tray of tickets, looked confused, and left them alone. “I guess the bus passengers are safe for a while,” Arthur said.

Jimmy looked uneasily at the conductor who avoided his stare. He walked between the seats, shoving past the man. “’Ere watchit,” the conductor said, and trailed off. Jimmy stopped by a tired looking, attractive woman. “Do you have a light?” he asked, taking out a cigarette. She flashed him a brief smile and looked out of the window. “I said,” Jimmy began again.

“It’s disconcerting, the way they ignore us,” Arthur interrupted. “She’ll eventually give you a light, if you persist, but she’ll forget about you as soon as she stows