Paulette arrived in Subreality totally cloaked, not knowing quite what to make of Vik’s message. Was there some kind of trouble going on down here? She figured it would be prudent to cloak herself until she knew what was what.
Then the reality, so to speak, of the situation occurred to her. She probably didn’t need to cloak herself at all. “This is Subreality, after all, and I’m a character-muse. Not quite like Calliope’s muses, but a muse still. What can happen to me here?”
No sooner had those words left her mouth than she was met with the sight of a thick gray pall, like dirty cotton balls, that hung just over the tops of many of the landmarks that helped her to know her way around. Some of the landmarks were, in fact, gone.
Paulette had been staring at the threatening-looking Mists for who knows how long, wondering what they really were, where they had come from, and why, when a familiar voice behind her said, “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.” She turned and, of course, saw no one.
“Vik, is that you?” she said. “If it is, give me something to look at, OK?”
“Sure, and you could do the same,” came the answer as a shimmering pink dress faded into view, appearing to cling tightly to a curvaceous unseen figure.
“Nice dress,” Paulette said, after letting out a low whistle.
“I like it too,” Vik said. “Sometimes I think it would be cool to have a body, so I could wear all kinds of cool stuff and actually have folks be able to see me. But then I remember all that other nasty stuff, like eating and washing and getting sick, and I’m glad I’m like I am. Besides I wouldn’t have the life I have now if I were visible.” She paused, then added, “by the way, I see you still aren’t.”
“Ok, ok,” Paulette answered, “but how were you able to see me? I am cloaked, aren’t I?”
“Completely, to eyes that depend on light,” Vik replied. “I can also detect heat, and the heat signature I saw was about your size, so I figured it was you. You can uncloak around here. There aren’t many Writers around right now or anyone else from the Outside, so there’s no need to hide.”
“You sure?” Paulette wanted to take no chances.
“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen.”
Just then Paulette popped into view, dressed in the tan top and jeans her “helpers” had prepared for her earlier.
“I like your outfit, too, Paulette,” Vik said. “Do me a favor, please, and hold still for a moment.” Pauette did so. Vik’s voice seemed to circle her, mumbling comments and observations as it did so, while the dress stayed put directly in front of Paulette.
“Ok, I’m done,” Vik replied when her voice had rejoined the dress. “I just wanted to track you so I can recreate your outfit later.”
“You mean, like, sew?” Paulette decided it was probably best not to even address what Vik mean by “tracking.”
“Sew?!” Vik repeated in disbelief. “Well, back home I suppose I’d have to actually sew. That’s how I make the gloves I use for my… hobby. Here, though, it’s not necessary. What I meant was that I could ‘recreate’ your outfit like I ‘recreated’ this dress.”
“I see,” Paulette responded, not seeing at all. One of these days she would have to ask her buddy just what she actually is, and how she’s able to do all this stuff. Then, remembering why she had come down here in the first place, she turned to the subject at hand.
“So what’s going on down here?” she asked. “What’s with the vacant lots and all this fog, or whatever it is?”
Vik sighed before answering. “Those are the Mists of Oblivion. Writers haven’t been regular down here for so long that the Mists have come in to, well, to erase whatever is in their path. Any writer who doesn’t somehow claim his or her characters and muses could lose them to the Mists.”
“Really? Then Bryan had better get back to work on his stories!” Paulette answered agitatedly. “I’m gonna have to let him know.”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure he knows,” Vik said. “In fact that’s why I called you down here. Follow me and you can see for yourself.”
Paulette followed the pink dress, eyes intently trained on the dress’ derriere, as it led her to whatever it was Vik wanted her to see. Seeing the dress walk apparently of its own volition reminded Paulette of the helpers filling out her clothes back at her home. Vik said nothing at first, fully aware that Paulette was staring at the dress’ backside with more than just curiosity.
Finally the dress stopped without turning around. Vik asked, “Paulette, why are you staring at my butt?”
Paulette was ready to launch into a lame explanation when the obvious again occurred to her. Maybe it was something about being in Subreality.
“That’s just it,” she said. “That’s not your butt at all, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not actually inside the dress, are you?”
Vik kept silent for a few moments, not moving the dress an inch from where she had stopped it. Finally she answered, “No, I’m not actually in it, more like around it. What does that have to do with you staring?”
“Well, whenever I’m at the parties with all the other invisible girls, I know that even though I may not see them, there’s still an actual body filling out their clothes. Earlier today some of your, uh, compatriots or whatever you call them were filling out some of my clothes back home, and I don’t know, I was just so taken by the sight of my clothes filled out to my shape with no body in them.”
Vik continued her line of thought. “And now you see this dress in front of you, this well filled-out dress I must say, and you want to, what? Reach out and touch?” The dress punctuated Vik’s words with a hip-roll that Paulette (and the narrator) tried not to think about too hard, lest she fry her brain trying to analyze the situation…
This was embarrassing. Did the visitors tell Vik about the touchy-feely fashion show this morning? Paulette finally let out a weak, “Yeah, something like that.”
“Why do you sound so unsure? You think it would bother me or something?”
“Well, yeah,” Paulette said.
“You must have forgotten about me tickling you at the first party I deejayed at Dave’s club,” Vik said, sounding like she was still enjoying the memory way too much.
“That’s right,” Paulette said, drawing out the words. “I’d forgotten all about that. You owe me.”
“Now I wouldn’t say that,” Vik countered, “but it definitely doesn’t bother me if you want to do a, uh, surface inspection. At least it wouldn’t, if there was time. But I called you down here for a reason, and if we get sidetracked you won’t get to see the situation for yourself.”
“Situation? What situation?”
“If I tried to explain,” Vik said, “you wouldn’t believe. Just follow me, and you’ll see for yourself.”
+ + + + +
Meanwhile, on the other side of the block…
Victoria’s Secret Station, one of the most popular restaurants on Subreality City’s Restaurant Row, was doing brisk business due to a “feature” of Subreality that no one inside or outside Subreality really understood. As random visitors to Victoria Station restaurants in reality passed through the restaurant’s doorway, they would suddenly find themselves transported to Victoria’s Secret Station in Subreality City. The Subreal restaurant’s interior was similar enough to the typical layout of Victoria Station restaurants, but once inside they’d be greeted by waitresses they’d never find in the so-called real world. For every waitress in the Subreal restaurant was an exact double of a Victoria’s Secret model, including the restaurant’s owner, Adriana Pinto.
As Paulette and Havik’a passed by on the other side of the block, Adriana found herself at the front window of her restaurant, looking out at the menacing Mists and wondering why she had the unsettling feeling that Something Big was about to happen…
“She’s here,” Adriana said at length.
“Who’s here?”replied Tyra Cash, one of her waitresses.
“The other Adriana, or someone connected to her, like that girl Paulette Agee,” Adriana said.
“What’s so unusual about Paulette being here?” Tyra replied. “She does own a restaurant in the area. Shouldn’t she be here?”
“No, no that Paulette, I mean the real Paulette, the one from Out There,” Adriana said, waving broadly towards the mountains in the distance.
“‘Real?” Tyra repeated. “Oh, you mean the one that doesn’t know?”
“The one that has no idea,” Adriana corrected. “And she’s nearby. I can just feel it.”
“Well, then, she’s about to find out…”