Dylan
29. Strange Days Indeed
Dylan was watching Sick, Sad World, and talking to himself about it, when the doorbell rang.
He ignored it.
On the screen, the manager of a mall in Atlanta was explaining why she was displaying the world's largest nativity scene in August.
The doorbell rang again.
Dylan's father shouted, 'Will somebody get that, please?'
Dylan's mother was out at a catering job, and Kris was on a date with a girl he'd met at the animal shelter. If Dylan didn't go to the door, his father, who was busy with some documents for a case he was working on, would just shout at Dylan again.
Dylan grunted, got up, went to the door, and opened it. He didn't recognise the woman he saw, but there wasn't anything memorable about her appearance, except for the way both forearms were covered, from wrist to elbow, with what looked a little like bracelets, except that they seemed to have been braided from multi-coloured threads. Despite that impression, though, somehow Dylan had a funny feeling that he'd know her again, even without the bracelets.
'Dylan Brocklethwaite? Feel like a little walk over to Rod Rhode's house?'
'What the hell?' said Dylan. 'Listen, whoever-you-are, if this is one of Rod's pranks, just go back and tell him I'm not falling for it.'
'I'm International Friendship Day, and I'm here on a secret mission from Holiday Island. I need to recruit you and Rod to help us.'
'Excuse me, International What Day?'
'I may not be well-known, but that doesn't affect the power of the bond of true friendship. You and Rod Rhode are destined to be one of the legends. You know'—the woman started to orate—'Damon and Pythias, Roland and Oliver, Rosalind and Celia, Elinor Dashwood and Colonel Brandon, George Sand and Gustave Flaubert, Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Laurel and Hardy, Laverne and Shirley, Daria and Jane—'
Dylan managed to squeeze in an interruption. 'Who and Jane?'
The woman looked abashed. 'Sorry, I forgot, of course you wouldn't know about them.'
Dylan didn't really listen to this. 'I get it now.' He nodded slightly. 'I'm doing both sides of this conversation. I've moved on past just talking to myself, and now I've got an imaginary friend.'
'If you don't believe in me', said the woman, 'at least you know Easter isn't just something you've imagined.'
'Maybe Easter and International Friendship Day are magical alter egos', Dylan mused to himself, 'when you find them in the Big Rock Candy Mountains.'
'I told you, we're from Holiday Island, and I brought Easter here with me.' She turned her head slightly to one side. 'You better come out now.'
An extremely large white rabbit hopped slowly out from the bushes, then sat up on its hind legs, showing Dylan a face clearly marked with displeasure.
Dylan slowly nodded his head. 'I get it. That's supposed to be the Easter Bunny.'
The woman looked at the rabbit again. 'I don't think he's convinced, and there's nothing more I can do until I get him and Rod together. You're going to have to show him.'
The rabbit looked even more displeased, but then its face changed to an expression of concentration as it heaved and strained. After a minute it took one hop forward, and the woman reached down behind it and picked up a large coloured egg that definitely hadn't been there before. She looked back at Dylan.
'Now, can we please get out of here before your mother gets home, sees this, and starts thinking about Easter catering projects?'
For the first time Dylan felt a surge of sympathy with his visitor, real or imaginary. He had been deeply uncomfortable with all the talk about friendship, but avoiding giving his mother creative inspiration was one of his own basic rules. He stepped out the door and shut it behind him.
The woman picked up the rabbit and said, 'Let's go, then.' When she started off, Dylan followed her in the absence of any better ideas.
As they walked, he said, 'I suppose if I'm having a nervous breakdown, I should humour myself. What's this secret mission you want me to help with?'
'First we've got to get you and Rod together again. Then I'll explain the rest of it.'
Rod was surprised to find Dylan at his front door at all, let alone with a woman carrying a rabbit.
'This is International Friendship Day', Dylan explained, 'and this is the Easter Bunny. They're here on a secret mission from Holiday Island and they want to recruit us.'
Rod looked from Dylan to the woman and back again. 'I have to say, I'm impressed. I've never tried a prank this elaborate.'
Dylan sighed and held up a large coloured egg. 'Have you ever seen a rabbit lay an egg like this before?'
'No, and I haven't seen it now, either.'
Dylan looked at the rabbit, and its face distorted into an expression of disgust. The woman said, 'Let me handle this.' From around her wrist she removed two bands or braids of multi-coloured fabric. She handed one to Rod and said, 'Fasten this around Dylan's wrist.' Then she handed the other to Dylan and gave him the converse instruction.
Rod shrugged. 'After you've gone to so much trouble, it seems the least I can do.' He reached out to Dylan's wrist and attached the bracelet, or whatever it was. Dylan pulled one of his faces, but returned the favour.
'Wait a minute', Dylan said. 'Weren't we fighting about something?'
'What the hell would we want do that for? and screw up a really important friendship?'
'I don't know', Dylan said. 'It beats me.'
'So that's fixed', said International Friendship Day. 'Now, are you two on the team?'
Dylan and Rod looked at each other.
'Might as well be', said Rod.
'I guess we do kinda owe you one', said Dylan.
'What's the problem, anyway?'
'We need to get New Year, Thanksgiving, and Bastille Day to come back to Holiday Island', said International Friendship Day. 'They've come to Lawndale to start a band.'
'To Lawndale?' said Dylan and Rod in unison, their voices rising in disbelief. 'To start a band?'
'They need a guitar player.'
'They're looking for a guitar player? In Lawndale?' Dylan and Rod looked at each other and exchanged an expression of mutual comprehension.
'You'd better come inside', Rod said, 'while we see what we can find out.'
Tierney was unfazed by the idea that New Year, Thanksgiving, and Bastille Day had come to Lawndale to start a band. She'd already invited them to come over for a jam session.
Somebody who wasn't expecting them might have had trouble guessing the identity of the holidays when they came in, but the signs could be read by those who knew. New Year wore a dress covered with glittering designs as bright as fireworks and a sash embroidered with tinsel, and the effect was completed by her extensive array of jewellery. Thanksgiving's belly bulged over his belt, and his clothes bore stains from a variety of seasonal foods. Bastille Day was the most obvious, with her outfit striped in red, white, and blue, and completed by the kind of hat that Dylan quietly explained to Rod was known as a Phrygian cap.
All three of them reacted with hostility to the appearance of International Friendship Day and the Easter Bunny.
'If you want us to come back to Holiday Island', New Year said, 'you can forget about it. I am so over that.'
'The idea just gives me indigestion', said Thanksgiving.
Bastille Day muttered something that sounded like angry French curses.
'Come on', said Tierney. 'Let's go down to the basement and rehearse.'
When the three holidays had followed Tierney out—each one throwing another glare at International Friendship Day and the Easter Bunny in passing—Dylan said, 'That seems pretty clear. They don't want to go back to Holiday Island.'
'We know that', said International Friendship Day, who had set the Easter Bunny down on a table. 'That's why we need you two to change their minds. I think you said something about owing us one?'
'I guess', said Dylan, 'if we can find a way to persuade them that they want to go back—but if you're talking about forcing them against their will, forget it.'
'Why is it such a big deal, anyway?' Rod said. 'They want to live in Lawndale—well, frankly that makes even less sense than the rest of this, and my money would be on their changing their minds on their own account before long—but why does it matter to you?'
'Because they're disrupting the natural order. If they don't return to Holiday Island, there'll be no more Bastille Day, Thanksgiving, or New Year. Now you may not care about Bastille Day—'
Dylan stuck out a hand to interrupt. 'Wait a minute there. You're not suggesting that we have to be parochial just because we're American. I can see why the French would want her back—'
Dylan was interrupted in turn by Rod, making hand gestures in the shape of an hourglass. 'Can you say oo-la-la?'
International Friendship Day took back control of the conversation. 'Okay, it's good that you can take a broader perspective, so perhaps you can see how important New Year is. The whole system practically depends on her—'
The Easter Bunny interrupted, making a low growling or grunting noise and thumping a hind leg on the table top.
'Okay'—International Friendship Day resumed—'that's something of an exaggeration. Not everything is tied to the Gregorian calendar, but it's still very important. If you could see how things are on Holiday Island now that she's gone—'
'That's an idea', said Rod. 'Why don't you take us there to check things out? Maybe looking around the scene of the crime will inspire us.'
'Fair enough', said International Friendship Day. 'You can see for yourselves why it's important that you help us. Come on.'
Dylan and Rod looked around dubiously, and Rod said, 'This is just the back of the Good Time Chinese Restaurant.'
The Easter Bunny nodded, and International Friendship Day said, 'Yes, this is where the dimensional wormhole is located.'
Dylan looked at Rod and shrugged. 'After all, where else would you expect a dimensional wormhole to be located?'
Actually passing through the wormhole felt like nothing at all. The hardest part was coming out behind a dumpster and having to shift it out of the way. It turned out that they were behind another Good Time Chinese Restaurant, part of the same chain, or so International Friendship Day explained. She also explained the complete absence of any signs of life by gesturing in the direction of a building not far off, the place, she said, where all the holidays were located, marked with the grim warning of its title: 'Holiday Island High'.
Dylan and Rod shared another look of total mutual understanding.
'Yes, we're all at high school', said International Friendship Day. 'You think you know about that, right? Well, that's not the worst. Come on, you were the ones who wanted to take a look around.' She picked up the Easter Bunny again and they started walking to the school.
When they got inside, the halls were thronged. Struck by the numbers, Dylan said, 'Not just American holidays, then.'
International Friendship Day and the Easter Bunny both looked from side to side as if nervous. Then International Friendship Day lowered her voice to say, 'Everything from Buddha's Birthday to United Nations Day, but not everybody's comfortable talking about that at the moment. Since those three burn-outs ran away to Lawndale, Columbia and Lady Liberty have been going around saying that if we don't have a New Year we might as well give the designation to the Fourth of July.'
'What?' said Dylan. 'I never was a big fan of Independence Day.'
'Then maybe you're beginning to understand why it's important to restore the natural order here. But be careful about being overheard.' International Friendship Day gestured to a spot further along the corridor in order to direct Dylan's attention.
Lady Liberty was easy to recognise from the statue, and Columbia was wearing an outfit—including another Phrygian cap—patterned, with unmistakable significance, in stars and stripes. They were confronting another holiday wearing a dazzlingly gaudy festival dress without immediately obvious symbolism.
'Hey, Mardi Gras', said Columbia, 'what have we been saying about dress code?'
Lady Liberty sniffed the air. 'And how much have you been drinking?'
Mardi Gras shrugged. 'Who can remember these things? Be cool, and live and let live. That's what I say.'
'So you want the whole school to know what you've been getting up to in the janitor's closet?'
'You see what I mean?' whispered International Friendship Day to Dylan and Rod. 'Oh, look out, here comes Kwanzaa.'
The dark-skinned holiday she'd mentioned came up and addressed them all. 'So, are you going to do something about the situation?' He gestured back over his shoulder with a turn of his head, in the direction where Mardi Gras was still getting her dressing-down. 'Listen, I've got nothing against being American, but their ideas about what that means and mine …'
'Don't worry', Rod said, 'we're on board.'
Dylan's attention was caught by something on the wall behind Kwanzaa. 'Just a minute, I think I'm getting an idea.' He walked to the poster, which advertised Holiday Island High's annual prom. 'If proms around these parts are anything like the ones I know about, people are going to want to dance, and they're going to prefer live music. Right?'
'Good thinking', said Rod. 'If those three really want to make it musically, they have to be looking for gigs, and I can tell you that once they're settled in back at Lawndale they're not going to be impressed with the opportunities.'
'So', Dylan continued, 'any money in the prom budget for a live band?'
International Friendship Day looked down at the Easter Bunny, who looked back at her, and some sort of understanding passed between them. 'I think we can swing something. So what's the plan?'
'You stay here and make the arrangements for the prom', said Dylan, and we'll head back to Lawndale and lure your runaways home.'
New Year, Thanksgiving, and Bastille Day rose slightly in the estimation of Dylan and Rod when they found out that all three were rapidly becoming disillusioned with life in Lawndale. They still weren't exactly enthusiastic about returning to Holiday Island, but the balance tipped because Tierney was interested in coming along as soon as she heard about the potential gig.
When they got to the high school gym where the prom was waiting for them, they did seem on the verge of second thoughts, but when they heard about events since their departure, their resolve solidified.
'The Fourth of July?' said New Year. 'Listen, being inclusive is part of my job. Chinese New Year, Bengali New Year, Jewish New Year, Islamic New Year, you name it, I've got no problems with any of them. But the line has to be drawn somewhere.'
Thanksgiving muttered something about who'd been around longest, and Bastille Day didn't like having her style plagiarised. The decision was made, and, as the band started to set up, the Easter Bunny hopped to the front of the stage, sat up on her hind legs, and made the introduction, in a melodious voice as sweet and rich as chocolate. Dylan and Rod stared at each other in surprise at hearing her speak, but before they could react further, Columbia and Lady Liberty appeared and tried to interfere, pointing out that New Year, Thanksgiving, and Bastille Day had been deserters from Holiday Island High who deserved no recognition.
'You haven't got any music for us', shouted one female holiday spirit that Dylan and Rod didn't recognise.
'Yeah', shouted another, 'why don't you just let us dance?'
At this, the whole crowd booed Columbia and Lady Liberty off the stage, and the music, and the dancing, began.
The Easter Bunny hopped down from the stage, and Dylan and Rod went over to her.
'I didn't know you could talk', Rod said.
'I always sound like this when I do talk', she said, in the same voice as before, 'which is why I mostly choose not to. Besides, it's bad enough having people saying, "Oh, what a cute little fluffy white bunny", without having them know I'm a talking cute little fluffy white bunny. I only wish I also had a choice about producing those damn eggs.'
'I see your point', said Dylan.
International Friendship Day joined them and said, 'Looks like the band's a big hit. The only problem is, what happens if your sister' (she looked at Rod) 'wants to go home with you? Half the reason they left here in the first place was that they said they needed a guitarist, and I know Tierney's not ready to break up with her bandmates in Mystik Spiral.'
'You know?' said Dylan.
'I know.'
'So?' said Rod. 'You're trying to tell me that there's nobody here with any interest in playing guitar?'
'I don't know.'
'And you didn't even try to find out?' Rod shrugged. 'I grant you, when they were just getting started it might have been a problem, but look at how this audience is going for them in a big way. Tell them there's a space in the roster, you gotta be able to find people. I'll ask around for you, I think by now I should be able to spot the ones who'd like to be up there on stage with the band.'
When the dance was over, and everybody else had left, New Year, Thanskgiving, and Bastille Day were still on a high. Just as International Friendship Day had predicted, however, they were unhappy when Tierney said she wanted to get back to her own band. They thought they needed her for all the bookings they'd been able to make for the next year.
'Don't worry about that', said Rod, extracting some notes from a pocket. 'You've got plenty of potential guitarists. Día de Andalucía, Prince Kūhiō Day—I can't even remember them all, but really'—he passed over his list—'all you gotta do is announce auditions and there'll be a line around the block, with all the gigs you say you've got lined up.'
'Well', said Thanksgiving, 'thanks!'
'I have a feeling', said New Year, 'this could be the start of something big.'
Bastille Day gave Rod a kiss on each cheek, and then did the same for Dylan.
'I can't believe I'm saying this', said Dylan, 'but it's time to get back to Lawndale.'
International Friendship Day and the Easter Bunny escorted Dylan, Rod, and Tierney back to the dimensional wormhole. Before they left, the Easter Bunny squeezed out another large multicoloured egg and offered it to them.
'No, thanks', said Dylan. 'I think we've seen enough of those for a lifetime.'
'Trust me, I know how you feel.'
'It's good to have things straightened out for us—and for you', said International Friendship Day. 'Tierney, keep an eye on these two, won't you?'
'Don't worry', Tierney said. 'They're gonna be okay.' Holding her guitar case carefully, she crawled behind the dumpster, and Rod and Dylan followed her.
Behind the Good Time Chinese Restaurant, Dylan and Rod found Tierney holding her guitar case up in front of her with both hands. 'This seems to be reminding me of something', she said. 'Maybe there's a rehearsal I need to get to. See you both later.'
When she'd gone, Dylan said to Rod, 'Have we just been through an extremely weird experience?'
Rod shrugged. 'Speaking of extremely weird experiences, if we hurry we should be at my place in time for Sick, Sad World.'
'So what are we waiting for?' said Dylan as they started off. 'You know, you missed a lot of good television while you were busy with the track team.'
'You know what you missed? You missed hearing Mystik Spiral perform the song Tierney wrote for my birthday.'
'I would have told her just to get you art supplies again, but she ruled that out from the start because she said that's what she always gets you.'
'So that's why she called you up! You're right, she should have listened to you.'
'Wait a minute', said Dylan. 'How did you know that Tierney called me?'
'I used the redial button on the phone.'
'So that was you! But Tierney never said anything to you?'
'No, and I guess she never said anything to you, either. But that's her style, just leaving things to sort themselves out. I guess it worked this time.'
Dylan nodded thoughtfully. 'I suppose we can't do everything together. That children's arts-and-crafts class at the hospital was the right thing for you, and I suppose there could have been worse fates for me than reading to seniors at the retirement home.'
'I thought the arts-and-crafts class was the right thing for me, and so did the kids, but the staff and the parents weren't impressed with the idea of a mural based on Jackson Pollock's fatal car accident. Or the lessons in how to make voodoo dolls.'
'So you got booted?'
Rod nodded, then asked Dylan about his experience.
'Well, initially all the residents hated me and preferred Kent or Karen—'
'So, just like school?'
Dylan nodded and then resumed. '—so the staff assigned me to read to Mr Breen because he had the worst hearing loss in the place, which is saying something for a retirement home.'
'Ha! Clearly the hand of a prankster at work. Almost makes me sorry I didn't join you there.'
'The funny thing is, it turned out Mr Breen really got something out of the experience, although I still have no idea what that could possibly be. But I've been going back there to use him as a test audience for some of my stories. At the moment I'm working on one set at a high-school party, where the most popular boy in the school is found mysteriously dead in a bathroom and the finger of suspicion points at a prank gone horribly wrong.'
Rod smirked at Dylan. 'So the hero of the story is the misunderstood prankster, who has to solve the mystery to clear his name, with his only ally the dead boy's older brother, who always hated the victim and would be the chief suspect except he didn't come to the party?'
'I haven't worked out all the details', said Dylan. 'You never know.'
'If you're interested in teaming up with a prankster in real life instead, there's the school dance coming up.'
Dylan raised an eyebrow. 'Another bucket of pig's blood rigged to the rafters?'
'Nah, Mr Chung's prepared for that. I've got an entirely new idea.'
'You're not working with one of your new buddies from the track team.'
'For a job like this, ya gotta have a partner with an attitude, an attitude you can put total confidence in. Nobody from the track team is a Sick, Sad World viewer.'
'Okay', said Dylan. 'I'm in.'
