10There was a cart — a shopping cart with a blue handlebar. Melissa's mother had asked her for milk.
She was in the goldfish aisle. She wasn't sure where she was or where she was going, but she was confident her feet would steer her towards the milk. She gripped the handlebar and pushed onwards. Vacant, bubble-shaped eyes watched her as she passed.
Corner after corner she turned, past walls of hot sauce and cages of skittering cockroaches, but to no avail. She wondered if someone was stretching and twisting the aisles like an accordion, just slow enough to evade detection. She stopped and look up. She spotted a ventriloquist's doll on the top shelf; behind it, a stain in the ceiling. She aligned the stain with the top of the doll's ear, and waited. Without the rattle of the cart, the squeaking of its wheels, the pit pat of her footsteps, a white noise crept into her ears. She counted to ten Mississippi. The stain still clung to the doll's ear. The grocery store wasn't moving (at least for now). She pressed on. The doll's head may have turned as she passed underneath it, but she didn't think about that. It occurred to her she hadn't seen her mother since she had started dreaming.
She turned a corner. A spotlight shone down on the middle, illuminating a giant sign, white with black letters: MILK. The path was lit with lights like the ones that line the aisles of an airplane, except that the lights were actually arrows — glaring red arrows. (Alt: Glaring red arrows along either side showed the way.)
She stepped down the aisle. Her throat started to itch. How long had she gone without a drink? She licked her lips. They were chapped.
She stopped below the sign. All of the refrigerators were empty, except one. She turned to her right. In the middle of the fridge, surrounded by empty shelves, was a pint-sized carton of milk. She opened the door, grabbed it, and placed it in her cart. She made her way to her mother, or the cashier, or both — whichever she found first.
She licked her lips again. She tried not to look down, but the milk was calling out to her. She swallowed, but with no saliva, it was an exercise in contracting her throat. Her eyes crept to the carton. It stared at her with puppy eyes. It might as well have been wearing a sign that said, "Drink Me."
Surely one sip couldn't hurt. They would pay for it anyway. She stopped the cart and reached for the carton, moving deliberately so as to avoid ripping it open like a savage. She bent the paper lid left, right, center, and then pushed it open.
There was no milk: nothing glistened as the liquid that was supposed to be inside sloshed around. Instead, something furry lay just beneath the surface. Melissa hesitated. She stuck her pinky inside and poked it. It wiggled and shifted. Through the paper, she felt something moving inside. Suddenly, she was staring at an eye — a solid black eye. `Aw,' she thought.
The pupil contracted, like someone had flushed it down a toilet. As black drained out through the middle, angry red veins rushed in from around the rims. `Shit.' She dropped the carton and started running back down the aisle. Behind her, she heard the tear of paper, then several thuds and the screech of metal. She glanced over her shoulder. Refrigerators lay on the floor, their exposed wires crackling.
A brown monstrosity had emerged from the carton. She had turned just in time to watch as it flicked whatever remained of the carton off a furry tentacle. No — a tail. She turned her head further, trying not to slow her pace.
It was a kangaroo. A giant kangaroo — with a machete in its paw.
It looked at her. And smirked.
`Well, that's different.' She turned back around and galloped full speed. Arms flailing, legs on the verge of failing, she briefly wondered why she'd never had super speed in her dreams.
She turned a corner and ran across the aisles instead of along one. The monstrous marsupial slammed forth, mowing down shelf after shelf of goods. She heard a deep, thunderous rumble emanating from its direction. It was chuckling at her.
A door appeared to her right. She dashed inside, slammed the door shut, and ducked under a desk in the back of the room. She poked an arm out to feel around the top of the desk for the landline telephone she had seen. `Come on.' Her hands hit cold plastic. She ripped it from its place and brought it under the desk. The line was dead. `Shang.'
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The door handle jiggled, but it was locked. Her shoulders loosened. She breathed a sigh of relief.
The wall exploded. `What the—?' She peeked around the desk just in time to see two furry feet crashing through a hole in the wall, launching rubble into the air.
"HEY, YOU!" Melissa's head banged against the table as she jumped; the voice had rung out from beside her. The menacing marsupial paused, then, balancing on its tail, lowered itself to its feet. "Yeah YOU, you tyrannosaurus rat!" It backed away from the wall and brought its head down to the ground, peeking through the hole in the wall with one bloodshot eye.
A figure dressed in black emerged from the darkness, light glinting off her flaming red hair. As she passed, Melissa noticed a chain around her neck: a silver necklace with a cross. The figure stepped through the hole in the wall, her shadow following her.
"What do you want, demon?" she shouted. She reached both hands around her neck, undoing the clasp to her necklace. She paced around to one side, like a boxer sizing up her enemy.
The kangaroo demon snorted and growled in a low, rumbling voice, "You think a little cross can defeat me, first-level filth?" It smirked and flung the knife far away. "I won't be needing this. It'll only detract from the fun." It grinned.
Melissa crept closer to the hole. From where she crouched, she could see the front of the woman — or girl? Her slight frame emanated terrible force, like she could — and would — rip your head off with her bare hands. Set in the middle of her face, skin as smooth as alabaster, were two stones that served as eyes: brilliant green — and cold.
"Haaaagh!" Melissa jumped back, knocking loose a pile of rubble.
A black cat was at the edge of the hole, glaring at her with eyes as green as those of Melissa's savior.
"Constantine!" the woman-girl yelled.
"Haaaagh!" The cat leaped onto Melissa' throat, claws narrowly missing her eye. She caught the thing and grappled it into a hold, all four paws in the cup of her hand. She gripped it against her chest. `Sorry,' she whispered. It hissed.
The kangaroo looked on with a smirk. "What a useful sidekick you have there," it said, turning back to the woman.
The woman held her necklace in her left hand, reaching for her back pocket with the other. "You're breaching protocol," she said coolly. "I have the right to send you straight back to your own level." Her right hand twitched, as if something had cut her finger, then pulled out another cross — also silver, but smaller. She shrugged. "Or I could send you up to let Him judge you for Himself. Your call."
The kangaroo started wheezing, its nostrils flaring. It was laughing.
"And how do you plan to send me to Heaven, Shadow?"
In a flash of movement, the top and bottom of the crucifix in her left hand extended and curved into a crescent-shaped bow. A sliver of light stretched across the tips, solidifying into a bowstring. She jerked her right hand upwards as if to toss the smaller cross while pinching the bottom leg. It extended into yard-long arrow, the remaining three legs forming the arrowhead. She set the arrow on her bow, pulled back, aimed, and fired — all before the kangaroo had time to blink.
A mix of inky goo and white jelly splurged out of the kangaroo's eye socket, where the arrow had landed. It screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor, sending shockwaves through the ground.
The woman sighed and shook her bow. The tips gleamed white for a moment, then the bow shrunk back to into a cross, chain still attached. She sauntered up to the bloody mess, pulled a thin sheet of rice paper from her pocket, and slapped it to his forehead.
"My God," she recited, "I am sorry for my sins with all of my heart. In choosing to do wrong, and failing to do goOD, I HAVE SINNED AGAINST YOU," she shouted over increasing screams, "WHOM I SHOULD LOVE ABOVE ALL THINGS. I FIRMLY INTEND, WITH YOUR HELP, TO SEEK PENANCE, TO SIN NO MORE, AND TO AVOID WHATEVER LEADS ME TO SIN. YOUR SON, JESUS CHRIST" She stood up and kicked the demon's throat. It fell silent. "Suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy." She smiled at him. "Amen."
Blinding white. A figure floated down on a beam of light from above, a halo crowning the top of his head, snow white wings sprouting from his back. He landed on the demon, shriveled up and pale. He nodded at the woman. "Nice work." He placed a golden chain around the demon's neck and flew upwards, tugging his cargo along. A flash of light absorbed the beam and the two figures.
The cat wriggled free and rushed over to its master, meowing furiously. It circled her one way, then another, as she paced back and forth.
"I know iknow — I KNOW, Constantine! But she would've died!" She gestured to Melissa. It was the first time they had made eye contact. Her face softened, revealing pure intentions, if not a spotless record. Her hand fell to her side. Melissa felt the abrupt sensation of waking up from a dream — or plunging into one —, like someone had splashed cold water on her face. She was sure she had never met the girl, yet something about her seemed familiar, like they had met in another dream.
The cat drew out a long, desperate meow, a harrowed tone that faded into a wisp of breath.
She sighed. "Well, let's wake her up first." The girl walked briskly towards Melissa.
To her surprised, she felt no urge to scurry away. She felt safe. This girl had saved her. She opened her mouth.
"Thank y—"
She grabbed Melissa's hair and slammed her head into the ground.
—
Melissa lurched awake.
"Are you okay ma'am?" 손님 괜찮으세요? Melissa blinked. A stewardess was talking to her in Korean. She was wearing a sky blue uniform, a signature of Korean Air. "Are you okay, ma'am?" the stewardess repeated, a furrow forming between her perfect eyebrows. An image from a Chia pet commercial flashed through Melissa's mind.
She opened her mouth; out tumbled a garbling sound. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes," she whispered.
The stewardess smiled. She patted her arm gently, then continued down the aisle. The cabin was dark, save for the glaring LED lights of TV screens and the occasional orange beam from a lamp. To her left was a mass of blankets and hair. She recognized the sleeping figure as her mother. She turned towards the window. Her father was smiling at her, his face lit blue by a TV screen.
"Are you okay?" he murmured.
"Mhm."
"Really?" Concern and amusement played out in his eyes. "Looked like you were having a bad dream, there." 진짜? 악몽 꾸고 있었던것 같은데.
"I'm fine." 네, 괜찮아요. She smiled.
"Mm." He patted her hand, letting his hand rest on hers a moment. Then he turned back to his TV and pressed a digital play button on the screen.
Melissa stared at her screen, a black square. She pressed the corner; it flicked on. In the upper right corner were four numbers separated by a flashing colon. 11:45. Eleven hours and 45 minutes until they reached Incheon International Airport.
She sighed and starting flicking through the movies. She didn't sleep for the rest of the flight.