to?â
âYeah. I know you guys are cooking up something.â
I think about it for a few seconds, then decide to just go for it.
âWe started a new religion.â
Henry is waiting for more. I guess I have to give it to him.
âWe worship the water tower.â
He is nodding now, his face eager.
âWeâre Chutengodians,â I say.
âYeah? Whoâs we?â
âMe and Shin and Dan. And Magda.â
His eyebrows pop up. âMagda Price?â
âYeah.â
âOkay then,â he says.
âOkay what?â
âOkay, then I wanna be a Chutengodian too.â
Â
----
A ND SO THE O CEAN SENT A MESSAGE TO THE H UMAN LEADERS AND DID THEREBY CAUSE THEM TO ERECT THOUSANDS OF GREAT EFFIGIES OF ITSELF THROUGHOUT THE LAND . A ND IN EACH OF THESE TOWERS THE O CEAN DEPOSITED A TINY PORTION OF ITS PURE S ELF, AND GAVE THE H UMANS PERMISSION TO PARTAKE OF IT FREELY . A ND THE H UMANS GATHERED AROUND THE TOWERS AND BUILT THEIR TOWNS AND CITIES AROUND THEM, AND THE TOWERS DID SERVE AS THE E YES AND E ARS OF THE O CEAN, AND THE O CEAN WATCHED AND LISTENED AND WATTED, AND FOR A TIME, THE O CEAN WAS CONTENT .
----
10
Â
At precisely fifteen minutes after midnight, I slip out of bed and look out my window to the east. Just past the corner of the garage, through the branches of the elm tree, I can see the blinking red light on top of the water tower. The Ten-legged One beckons me. I quietly dress in ninja black, right down to my Reeboks, and silently slink down the hall, slither past my parentsâ bedroom, and ooze out the back door.
Free, free at last! Ha! Theyâll never catch me nowânot until itâs too late. Too late for everyone! Theyâll regret their laughter and taunts. Theyâll regret throwing me in their reeking dungeons. Iâve eaten my last plague-ridden rat. Iâll mount the Ten-legged One and gallop from the river to the sea, crushing all who stand in my way. Nyuh-ha-ha! From now on,
theyâll
do as
I
say.
It takes me twenty minutes to reach the tower. No Henry. I sit with my back against one of the legs and wait, listening to the soft sound of water droplets hitting grass, thinking deep thoughts about Chutengodianism. Whatâs it like in Chutengodian heaven?
Is
there a Chutengodian heaven? And if thereâs a heaven, does that mean thereâs a hell? Serious questions requiring serious thought.
I hear a soft sound; cowboy boots scuffing grass. Henry appears on the opposite side of the tower, hands stuffed in his pockets, pacing. He doesnât see me. I watch him for a few seconds. Iâm about to let him know Iâm there when he steps behind the tower leg. I wait for him to come out the other side.
Thirty seconds later Iâm still waiting.
âHenry!â I say. No response. I walk over to where I saw him. No Henry. I raise my voice. âHey, Henry!â
âRight here.â The voice comes from aboveâI about jump out of my skin.
âHenry?â I look up and see him thirty feet above me, clinging to the leg.
âCome on,â he says. âGrab onto the cables.â
âCables?â I see them now, four thick black cables running up the channel of the I-beam. âWhat are they?â
âI dunno. Electric cables, I guess. You coming or not?âHenry continues his climb, wedging the toes of his cowboy boots between the cables and pulling himself up, hand over hand.
If I think too long about this I wonât do it. I grab a cable and pull myself up. Itâs surprisingly easy, easier than the rope climb in gym class. The cables are covered with grippy black plastic, and my toes wedge nicely between them. I get into a rhythm: left hand, right foot, right hand, left foot.
âHow you doing?â Henry says over his shoulder.
âIâm okay.â The catwalk is still a long way above us.
âDonât look down.â
Of course I look down. We canât be more than