This Monkey Gone to Heaven (yeah, one more)

[Ръфлек]

Пак съм аз. Ако се чудите дали не ми е неудобно – ами да, обаче не знам какво сте очаквали след абсолютно незаменимата помощ и страхотната критика при предишния разказ. Реших, че си заслужава да опитам отново да получа някое и друго мнение. Този за капак е и по-дълъг. Ако съм ви писнала до смърт, извинявам се.

This Monkey Gone to Heaven

I died.
I passed through the tunnel and entered the light.
Then it got weird.

1.

The street was paved with white. I was leaving muddy traces on the cobblestones as I walked, with my hands in the pockets of my overly large tartan coat. In my left hand I held a salt-cellar, and in my right, a scone. They should have kept me out of trouble. They didn’t quite do the trick. I was in a deep, deep trouble. I realised it the moment I saw the angel – for it was an angel, despite the lack of wings or a robe or a halo. It was all light and gentle bass-baritone.
‘Calm down, calm down, calm down…’ it chanted, and the more it repeated it, the more anxious I got. I narrowed my eyes against its light and distinguished silhouettes of people around it. They were pushing hard, trying to get closer to it. I wanted to run away.
‘You, you, you…’ it chanted, and I knew it was talking to me, as its light fell on me.
‘I got it the first time,’ I said to make it stop.
‘It’s your turn, turn, turn…’ it chanted. I drew near, and I saw the people’s faces – distorted with envy, because I was the one the angel was talking to. ‘Walk after me, after me…’
‘Yeah,’ I agreed, and I tagged behind the angel as it took me through the gates of Heaven.

2.

In the morning, I’d been alive. I wasn’t feeling much like it. I was on a hitch-hiking trip, and I’d spent the night on a truck’s backseat. It was cramped, and my head bumped on the door at every hole in the road. Now I was trudging along the still sleeping town, the street’s mud getting into my torn sneakers and between my toes. The coffee shops and the bakeries were just opening, and the scent of freshly baked bread was filling the air. I chose a café-bar that seemed less pretentious, which in this part of the world meant it was plainly sleazy. It smelled of ashtrays. The barmaid showed her rotten teeth in token of approval when I ordered a bottle of Stella at seven in the morning. There was only one other customer: a girl dressed in a bright red sweater, sitting on a corner table. A few flies were circling round her cup of tea, but she didn’t seem to notice them.
I found myself staring. Not because she was stunningly beautiful or something - I was staring at her simply because she was staring at me. She seemed familiar in the dim light. I wouldn’t tell her that; for the same reason why I wouldn’t ask her if she came here often, or invite her to a party in my pants. ‘Why the chicken crossed the bar’, I thought awkwardly, while crossing the bar. I was tired and a bit lightheaded, and I must have said it loudly because she answered.
‘To talk to me, obviously,’ she said. When I got closer, I could swear I knew her. She was one of the girls with memorable asymmetrical faces. Her short hair was a mess, curling around her small ears, and her eyes were too big for her triangular face.
‘Hey…’ I started, sitting down across the table from her.
‘Finally, here you are,’ she interrupted me, her eyes green and yellow and orange, and urgent. ‘I nearly killed myself looking for you!’
‘Oh,’ I played for time. ‘What happened?’
‘I picked the wrong person, and this mistake could have caused the eternal damnation of us all,’ she said. She apparently liked to dramatise. ‘However, I’m glad you’re here.’
‘Yeah, it’s a nice place,’ I lied. ‘What was your name again?’
She hesitated, playing with her sixpence necklace. ‘Call me Six,’ she said.
‘Well, Six, can you please remind me where we’ve met?’
She didn’t answer. Instead, she stretched towards me across the table, and I felt something heavy dropping into my coat’s left pocket. With her fingers abnormally thin and long, she was operating with the precision of a seasoned pickpocket. ‘This is for you,’ she said.
‘You want me to steal the salt-cellar?’ I asked when I checked my left pocket.
‘Yes. And a bit of bread too.’
I checked my right pocket. She was right – there was a scone there. ‘Thank you,’ I said, because I was hungry and thankful, and I proceeded to eat it. She rapped me across the knuckles.
‘No!’ she said. ‘Keep them with you. The bread and the salt.’
She got me perplexed. ‘I won’t steal the salt-cellar!’ I insisted.
She sighed, and turned to the barmaid. They exchanged a few words in a rough language. ‘She doesn’t mind,’ Six said. ‘It’s a tradition. Bread and salt. They’ll keep you out of trouble.’
‘Oh,’ I understood. ‘It’s a tradition.’ I’d learned to respect people’s traditions. I wrapped the scone in a napkin, and pocketed it again with the salt-cellar.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘You are going to die.’
‘What, even with the stolen salt-cellar?’ I snorted.
‘Yes.’ She was serious.
‘Are you a fortune teller?’ Now when I thought of it, she was looking a bit gypsish. ‘See, I have no money, and even if...’
‘Shut up and listen,’ she hissed – literally: the hush consonants grated in my ear. ‘You mustn’t stay where they’ll try to keep you, whatever happens. You have to get out.’
‘Wait, what?’
‘You’ll meet the thief. Give him your salt,’ she said, her eyes wide open. She was mad, I realised. A mad gypsy fortune teller, such was my luck. I drew crazy chicks like flies to honey. Maybe it was because of my hair. Just smile and nod, I decided, smile and nod, and then leave hastily when she isn’t paying attention.
‘Then you’ll meet the guard,’ she continued. ‘Give him your bread. And then you are going to meet me in Between.’ I smiled, and nodded. She smiled back, with teeth small and sharp. ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said.
‘I thought I was going to die today.’
‘Yeah.’ She jumped from the chair, and she went out. I never saw her again in this life.
An hour later I had a stroke. I’m not a doctor, but something makes me think this isn’t exactly common at the age of twenty-five.

3.

Heaven was deserted. The angel was moving in the front, its light guiding us. Occasionally, it would chant what we are passing by: St Peter’s church; St Michael’s church; one more church, and another one. They were all white, and majestic, and built to dominate, and as they were all dominating, the only thing to dominate, was us. And I felt dominated - I felt like a child in a city of giants.
‘Where are the people, you think?’ I asked the woman walking beside me. Around her neck, she was wearing a stuffed fox covered in dried blood.
‘The people...’ she murmured. I wondered if this was supposed to be a question, but then she turned her eyes to me, and I recognised the look. She was stoned. There was a number tattoo on her right arm, and its many digits were covering most of the skin down from her fingers up to her elbow. On my hand the angel had tattooed a 5. I remembered its light holding me when we were passing through the gates, and I remembered the fear – the pain was nothing compared to the fear. I’d felt similar when they caught me with weed at the Dutch border, only this time it was completely different, because it was a thousand times worse. Then suddenly the angel’s light left me, and I passed.
The first people we saw in Heaven were the merchants. The Heaven’s market was as sterile as was everything else around; the merchants were standing behind their stalls, their arms fixed at the side, their stares forward. And yet, they were selling all this colourful stuff: mostly with religious motifs of angels and saints and crosses, but still way too glaring. The angel dashed through the market, and the crowd followed it in something close to a run. I stayed back.
‘How much’s this?’ I asked one of the merchants, pointing to a red candle with crosses painted all over it. The man looked at me, his eyes blank.
‘How much?’ I repeated. He sobered up.
‘It’s not for sale,’ he said. ‘They’re all gifts. Charity.’
‘Can I have it then?’
‘Sure you can, son, but aren’t you afraid of Greed?’
‘This is one of the seven deadly sins, isn’t it?’ I was proud to demonstrate such broad theology knowledge. I knew two more of them: wrath and envy.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Well, whatever,’ I shrugged, and took the candle.
‘You are a brave one,’ said the man, and then added, inaudibly: ‘Please go away.’
‘Yeah, in a minute,’ I said. ‘So, where are the people?’
‘They went to church.’
‘I see. Why aren’t you there too?’
‘We cannot enter the temple.’ His eyes fell. ‘It’s forbidden.’
‘I’m sorry.’ I tried to tap him on the shoulder, but he drew back. ‘And when does the service end?’
‘It never ends. Go away, sir.’
‘But the people will be back soon, won’t they?’ I was stubborn. ‘I mean, they can’t spend there forever?’
‘They watch you, sir,’ he said, without specifying. ‘They always watch, and if you go out, they ask. Why are you out? Is there anything more important than praying? And there’s no right answer. And then they…’
‘Kill you?’
‘Many times. Leave me alone, sir, please leave me alone.’
I left him alone. I ran to catch up with the crowd.
‘Church, church,’ chanted the angel. ‘Church, church, church…’

4.

‘The watchtower, the watchtower,’ chanted the angel, and the change startled me. Or maybe it was the watchtower that startled me. It was tall and marble, and it had neither doors nor windows; yet, I knew - something was watching me from above, something whose stare I felt with the hair on the back of my head. Next thing I felt, someone’s hand into my pocket. I caught it by the wrist, and I turned around to meet the thief’s grin.
‘Sorry mister, I’ve mistaken your pocket for mine,’ he said, and tried to cut his wrist loose, but I held him firm. I looked for the angel – it and the crowd had continued without me, the chant echoing through the white walls.
‘You are the thief,’ I whispered, feeling the watchtower’s eyes on me. ‘Six told me about you.’
‘Ah, Vav,’ he said, a smile on his broad honest face. ‘This explains the salt.’
‘She told me to give it to you,’ I whispered.
‘I don’t take,’ said the thief. ‘I steal.’
‘But you have to help me.’ I let his wrist go. He rubbed it where my fingers had left red marks on his skin. Then he wavered, ready to run, his back half-turned on me. He stayed.
‘There must be some way out of here,’ I said.
‘Joker,’ said the thief. ‘You are going to die here. And then you are going to stay here some more.’
‘Help me get out. Six said she’ll wait for me in Between.’
‘Yeah right, and I have a candlelight dinner with God himself tonight.’ he sneered.
‘It happened!’ I insisted. ‘She was in this bar, short-haired girl with weird amber-green eyes.’
‘She can be whatever she wants,’ he said, but the sneer had faded. ‘Show me your hand.’
I pulled my right hand out of my pocket, and showed him my 5.
‘No way,’ he said. He smiled and repeated: ‘No way.’
‘No way what?’
‘I didn’t believe they’ll let Vav find you,’ he said. ‘I thought they’ll get to you first.’
‘They?’
He pointed up, towards the watchtower. ‘Who’s there?’ I asked, but figured out that’s not the most important question. ‘Can they hear us?’
‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘You have the salt. It protects you from them, and their drugs or magic or whatever they’re using now.’
‘The salt? What, why?’
‘They don’t like it.’ he shrugged. ‘It absorbs sins.’
I decided to take this on trust. ‘So, the salt keeps me from them, but I should give it to you?’
‘That’s the only way to pass. Just stick to your bread and don’t pray you’ll manage to get out.’
‘I shouldn’t pray?’
‘By no means.’
I looked around, and saw nobody else but us. ‘Well, take it then,’ I said. I almost didn’t feel him pickpocketing me.
‘Wouldn’t it be dangerous to keep salt in Heaven?’ I asked, while he was unscrewing the salt-cellar’s cap.
‘I won’t keep it. I’ll eat it.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, I’m a sin eater,’ he declared, obviously expecting a reaction. ‘Ever heard of them?’ he asked when he didn’t get one.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ I admitted.
‘Well, now you have. And I’ve been starving, man, starving.’
He then took the tiniest pinch of salt and threw it towards the watchtower. The tower’s wall roared in shock, hollowed inwards and then withdrew, its marble rocks tearing.
‘There’s no other way?’ I asked, just in case.
‘Hell no,’ said the thief. ‘Come on, Five, the hour’s getting late.’
I sighed, and passed through the hole in the wall, into the darkness. On the inside, the tower was as marble and oppressing as it was on the outside. As far as I could see, it had neither doors nor windows. The wall closed behind me with a roar.

5.

I remembered a song that was popular when I was a child: ‘If man is five/and the devil is six/and if the devil is six/then god is seven’. It didn’t make sense, but the tune was catchy, and I started lip singing and tapping on the candle in rhythm. I couldn’t help doing it when I got a song stuck in my head. I was grateful that there were no people around me; not only because I’d just broken in the Heaven’s watchtower, but because I looked stupid.
‘What’s this, lad, alternative rock?’ asked someone. I jumped. ‘Ye need somethin’ manlier.’
‘Who, what…’ I started, and then decided to concentrate on one question at a time. ‘Where are you?’ I asked, while searching my pockets for a lighter.
‘Eye of the Tiger, for example’ continued someone. ‘Now, this is a great song for breakin’ out of Heaven.’ I lit the candle the merchant had given me, and I saw my companion: he was sitting above me, on a rock sticking out of the wall, dangling his legs dressed in a pair of old-fashioned green shoes. He was very short, and his hair could probably be called salt-and-pepper, if the pepper was paprika.
‘An’ whit’s wi’ the hair?’ he asked. His accent had suddenly got thicker, and I suspected he was doing it intentionally. He may have thought it suited his image. ‘Mah auld maw, peace tae ‘er ashes, aye used tae say: if ye cannae tell a laddie frae a lassie, either he needs a haircut, or she needs a shave.’
‘Who are you?’ I asked.
‘Me, I’m an angel.’
‘You don’t look like an angel,’ I stated the obvious.
‘Thank you, young man. You don’t look like an angel either.’ He sounded dignified, and for some reason, he’d decided the Queen’s English fitted the occasion. ‘It’s just a temporary job.’
‘I see. Are you the guard?’
‘Aye, that’s me.’
‘Six told me to give you my bread.’ I said. He wounded up, and stooped over me: his long nose almost touching mine; his eyes fixed on mine, inquisitively.
‘Five?’ he asked. ‘Is that you?’
‘I suppose,’ I supposed. ‘Will you let me pass?’
‘Of course I will, lad, of course I will.’ He laughed, and clasped his hands at his knees. ‘But wha dinnae ye sit doon an’ tak’ a dram afore ye go?’
‘I don’t think I have time for this,’ I said, although I needed a drink.
‘Yer bum’s oot the windae! There’s always time for a drink.’
‘But if they catch me…’
‘They can’t, you have the scone. Come on, the Five I knew was more of a boozer, and less of a coward.’
I sat on the floor with legs crossed, and accepted the glass he gave me. The liquid had the sharp smell of malt whiskey, and – I observed after a sip – the befitting taste. ‘What are you actually talking about, the Five you knew?’ I asked then. ‘If it’s the tattoo, I don’t know why they chose this number for me.’
‘Cause that’s your number,’ he said. ‘You got the 5 the first time you were here.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘I’ve been here before?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, and remembered he’s got an accent. ‘An’ whit a braw lassie ye were, wi’ een ‘at sunk ships, puir creatures, an’ a perra diddies thes big!’ He made a gesture. I got the general idea.
‘I was a woman?’ I raised my eyebrows some more. ‘What, in a previous life or something?’
‘Call it as you wish.’
‘Oh, my G…’ I bitted my lip half-word. ‘And I managed to get out back then?’
‘Not quite. They threw you out. You know, till they clear up the mess. Then they’d have taken care of you, but I guess Vav got to you first, since you’re here.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Lang syne doon there, a few days up here.’
My eyebrows were already lost somewhere in the roots of my hair. I realised all this eyebrow raising would cause wrinkles (thoughts like this were definitely a heritage of my female past), so I returned them at initial position. I’d long gone past the point where I should get surprised by anything, I decided.
‘Look, I have to go in between to meet Six,’ I said. ‘Do you know where it is?’
‘Aye, it’s in between.’
‘Is it like the purgatory? Between Heaven and Hell?’
‘Ha, Hell, ye daftie!’ he chortled. ‘No, it’s between Heaven and Earth, on the top of the tower. ‘I’ll get you there. Break the bread.’
I did as said. ‘Any final instructions?’ I asked. ‘Like, don’t look down or something?’
‘Munch,’ he said, and demonstrated. We ate our bread in silence.
‘Thank you for feedin’ me, Five,’ he said at last. ‘I hope I’ll return the favour soon.’
‘Thank you too,’ I said, and drained my whiskey as I waited for him to open the way up. It must have been strong - I was far from lightweight, but I felt sick right away.
‘I shouldn’t have done this,’ I said. ‘I think I need to call Ralph on the big white phone now.’
‘No need to sugar-coat it, lad,’ he said. ‘Besides, it’s not the whiskey.’
He started to grow. His legs hit the ground with a bang. His head faded into the darkness above. I stuck to the wall, as his massive feet torn his little green shoes, and swept towards me. And the bigger he got, the weaker I felt. Everything – and by this point my ‘everything’ was filled by the giant – swam before my eyes.
Two enormous hands covered in ginger hair picked me up from the ground.
‘What are you?’ I asked, terrified. ‘A psychic vampire of some sort?’
‘It’s just a temporary job’ he said. ‘Keep yer heid!’
I passed out.

6.

When I came to myself, the handcuffs stuck into my wrists and stopped my blood circulation. For a moment I was afraid of getting gangrene. Then I remembered I was already dead, as the seven came and their light filled the room.
‘Testing, testing,’ said the seven. ‘One two three.’
‘Couldn’t you arrive in person?’ said an edgy voice behind me. I turned around, and I saw her. She was looking like an ageing mermaid: her white hair was falling over her naked body in greasy strips, and her scales were covered in long dried seaweed matted with fuel oil. Her teeth were long and sharp. The most terrifying thing about her, however, was her bracelet - my handcuffs were attached to it by a thick chain.
‘Teleportation takes time, and energy, and prayers, you know,’ the seven explained. ‘Coming as a projection is much more convenient.’
‘I thought your projection-vision doesn’t work,’ the mermaid said.
‘Never found time to fix it,’ the seven admitted. ‘But we hear you crystal clear. Just tell us what’s happening, will you?’
‘Well, the mortal woke up,’ the mermaid said.
‘Oh,’ said the seven, and got imposing, their voices echoing around. ‘Behold, mortal, for we’re the seven,’ they said as one. I was conscious enough to spot the cliché.
‘Speaking in unison,’ I murmured through cracked lips. ‘How badass.’
‘Shut up, mortal, and listen to us’ said the seven.
‘I’m in fear and trembling,’ I continued. ‘What a terrifying ordeal, so to say.’
‘Shut up!’ they screamed, and hit me. I can’t tell if they hit me physically or mentally: the insides of my eye-sockets filled with light so bright, my skull could barely hold it. When the light stopped, my mouth was full of blood – I’d bitten my tongue.
‘But don’t let me break the routine of your mighty introduction,’ I lisped, swallowing blood among the words. ‘I guess I was expected to say: “Who are you? What do you want from me?”’
‘We are the seven,’ they said, without spotting my sarcasm. ‘We are the Capital Vices, and we are the Cardinal Sins, and we rule over you.’
‘Oh, you mean the seven deadly sins, don’t you?’ I asked. ‘Greed, Wrath, Envy… um, Wearing-socks-and-sandals…’
‘Mistake,’ the seven tried to interrupt me.
‘… Snoring, Singing-falsetto, and Putting-clothes-on-a-dog.’
‘I’m sick of the mortal’s jabbering,’ said the mermaid. ‘Can’t you just drug him?’
‘And where’s the fun in that?’ asked the seven.
‘Fun? Screams aren’t fun. You know I’m getting a headache of all this screaming.’
‘I’m with the creepy lady on this one,’ I said.
‘No, mortal,’ said the seven. ‘You have to understand you’ve been betrayed.’
‘The thief has betrayed you,’ said the mermaid. ‘He was seized by Greed, and sold you for a sixpence,’
‘The guard has betrayed you too,’ said the seven. ‘He was seized by Wrath and he sought revenge for Vav leaving him here.’
There was a triumphal pause. Then the mermaid said: ‘Vav has betrayed you.’
‘For you were the one who was expected to make the change,’ said the seven. ‘Envy seized her.’
That last bit I wasn’t expecting. ‘Thank goodness Wearing-socks-with-sandals didn’t get to any of them,’ I said numbly, while trying to make sense of what I’d learned. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I decided. ‘Six wouldn’t betray me.’
‘How can you know what she’d do?’ the mermaid said. ‘The bitch’s mad.’
‘She gave us her sixpence,’ said the seven. ‘We used it to pay the thief. See.’
The marble wall split, and let the thief and the guard enter. The thief was double the guard’s height. ‘Thief!’ the seven commanded. ‘Show Five your new coin.’
The thief dangled his sixpence necklace.
‘This doesn’t prove anything,’ I said, without meeting the thief’s and the guard’s eyes. Their betrayal made me sick. ‘Sixpences aren’t exactly rare.’
‘This is one of a kind,’ said the mermaid. ‘It has two heads.’
‘Let me check this.’ I took a step towards the thief. He jumped back.
‘The mortal’s trying to touch me,’ he squealed.
‘Don’t let him go near them,’ said the seven, and the mermaid pulled me back by my handcuffs. ‘If he wants a proof, he’ll have it.’
‘Are you ready to gamble for your life, mortal?’ the seven asked me.
The mermaid smiled a repulsive smile. ‘Tails – you live,’ she said. ‘Heads – you die.’
There was a moment of silence and lips-licking on my part. I didn’t really have a choice. ‘Let’s do it,’ I said. The light began to shiver. ‘Die, die, die,’ a thousand voices chanted. The chant resounded and transformed around us: now loud and high-pitched, now low and prolonged, now sibilant and almost a whisper.
‘All the angels sing,’ said the seven. ‘Because you’re going to die.’
‘I’m going to rip up your flesh.’ The mermaid licked her front teeth. ‘And I’m going to dash down your blood.’
‘Does he look scared?’ asked the seven, without hiding their excitement. ‘Does he?’
I tried to don’t look scared, but I’d grown wan. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of my flesh being ripped up, and my blood – dashed down. ‘Yes, he does,’ said the mermaid. ‘He’s terrified.’
‘Go on, then,’ said the seven.
She crawled towards the thief, pushing against the ground with her tail. She took the necklace, and threw it into the air. The angel choir fell silent. The sixpence dropped on the ground. I watched it spinning. My heart was beating mad against my chest. The sixpence fell at one side. For a second, no one moved. Then I sighed so deep, my lungs hurt.
‘Well, mortal,’ the seven said exultantly, ‘it was expectedly unpleasant to meet you. Now, get ready to…’
A roar interrupted them. The sixpence shook. A lightening came out of it and hit the ceiling.
‘What?’ the seven asked.
‘Tails,’ said the mermaid. ‘It was tails.’
On the ceiling above us, hanging upside down, a well appeared. Its old-fashioned wellhead was lined with bricks of light.
‘No!’ the seven screamed.
‘No, no, no,’ chanted the angel choir.
‘Stop him!’ the seven screamed.
‘Stop me from doing what?’ I asked. I’d made the logical assumption I had to get to the well, but its placement was highly unserviceable. Besides, I was still tied up to the mermaid.
‘You should get to the well,’ the mermaid informed me, and she sunk her teeth into the chain of my handcuffs. The metal yielded like butter.
‘Traitor!’ the seven screamed. Their light became brighter and my eyes started watering.
‘No, no, no,’ chanted the angel choir.
‘They’re teleporting,’ the mermaid said in her usual flat tone. Her eyes, however, were horrified. ‘Faster.’
‘Faster what?’ I shouted. I’d clenched my fists - I realised it when the guard’s fingers like pliers opened them, and put a scone in my right hand.
‘Munch,’ he said. I started stuffing the bread in my mouth. I felt so full of energy that my body couldn’t sustain it. I started growing.
‘Thank you,’ I said, watching the three of them from above. The thief smiled with pale lips.
‘Good luck,’ he said. The silhouettes of the seven began to appear – wicked and grossly transformed. I saw a mess of tentacles, horns and limbs, before I turned to the cold darkness of the well. Six was there, her sixpence necklace with two heads hanging on a chain around her neck.
‘Come on!’ she said.
I looked down again: the seven were getting clearer behind the thief, the guard, and the mermaid. ‘I can’t simply run, and leave the three of them here,’ I said. ‘Can’t we take them too?’
‘They won’t survive it. Come on!’
‘Then I should go back and try something…’
‘You will go back, just not now,’ she said. ‘You are not ready.’
‘What makes you think I’ll ever be?’
‘Next time, I’ll be there to train you. I won’t lose you again.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise,’ she said. ‘Now come on!’
The seven screamed, and I felt something slimy trying to wrap up around my ankle. I kicked it, and I caught Six’s red-gloved right hand. She pulled me up in between. We fell.

7.

The well went down very deep. The light hit me.
‘The seven found us,’ I thought, and I cried out loud. I felt vertigo. The next thing I remember was waking up, surrounded by babies. My hands were scarily small, and I had an identification bracelet attached to my wrist. The number on it was five. I turned to the baby lying next to me, and I met her eyes – they were orange and yellow and green. The number on her bracelet was six.
‘Six!’ I tried to call her, but managed only to produce an inarticulate sound. She nodded, and started sucking her toes. I was envious, as I could barely move my limbs yet.
What kind of name was ‘Six’ anyway? Where did I know her from? And why would I have all these suckable appendages to my lower limbs, if I couldn’t reach them? All the questions made me want to scream, so I started screaming on the top of my little lungs.
‘Five,’ hissed Six. ‘Shut up and sleep!’ She was right of course. She was always right. Except that one time when she was wrong, and it almost caused the eternal damnation of the humankind. Almost.

[bsb]

Прочетох го. Не го разбрах. След известно време, т.е. днес, го прочетох пак, по-внимателно. Пак не го разбрах. След като установихме несхватливостта ми, да карам по същество.
Като чета какво съм написал по-долу, звучи доста остро и заядливо, обаче това не е целта, а е по-скоро страничен ефект от желанието за краткост.

In my left hand I held a salt-cellar, and in my right, a scone.
Не знаех думата "salt-cellar", затова я проверих: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salt_cellar . Реших, че такова нещо не може да се носи в джоб, защото веднага ще се разсипе, освен това е изключително малко вероятно да бъде намерено в забутан бар. Впоследствие се оказа, че солницата все пак е по-стандартна съвременна: "‘Wouldn’t it be dangerous to keep salt in Heaven?’ I asked, while he was unscrewing the salt-cellar’s cap." Т.е. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salt_shaker

‘Why the chicken crossed the bar’, I thought awkwardly, while crossing the bar.
Тъй като това е въпрос, а не твърдение (обяснение), трябва да е с въпросителна структура, why did...

I drew crazy chicks like flies to honey.
Не може обектът да привлича нещо като мухи на мед. Трябва да е обратното, нещата да се привличат от обекта като мухи на мед.

And then you are going to meet me in Between.
Първо мислех, че е по-добре и двете букви да са главни. Все пак словосъчетанието е in between. После реших, че няма особен смисъл от главни букви въобще. Те не могат да се произнесат, по-точно при говорене не може да се представи достатъчно ясно, че нещо е собствено име, а не обикновена дума (израз).

‘Sure you can, son, but aren’t you afraid of Greed?’
Тук е son, а след малко става sir - нарочно ли?

‘They watch you, sir,’ he said, without specifying. ‘They always watch, and if you go out, they ask. Why are you out? Is there anything more important than praying? And there’s no right answer. And then they…’
Откъде знае какво става, когато човек излезе? Нали на тях им е забранено да влизат вътре?
Също така защо им е забранено? Исус гони търговците от храма, защото търгуват вътре. Не си спомням някъде търговията като цяло да е обявена за грях, който търговците да трябва да изкупуват. Освен това не е ли по-логично, щом молитвите са толкова важен източник на енергия, да се накарат всички налични хора да се молят, а не част от тях, колкото и да е малка, да остава неизползвана.
И нашият човек защо въобще реши да си вземе точно пък свещ? Що за странен избор?

‘That’s the only way to pass. Just stick to your bread and don’t pray you’ll manage to get out.’
‘I shouldn’t pray?’
‘By no means.’
"don’t pray you’ll manage to get out." - липсва and
От този момент до края на героя не се предоставя нито една възможност да се моли. Защо изобщо е нужен този съвет в такъв случай? Освен ако под pray нямаш предвид "‘Oh, my G…’ I bitted my lip half-word." - но това е изговаряне напразно на името на Господа, не е молитва.

I sighed, and passed through the hole in the wall, into the darkness. On the inside, the tower was as marble and oppressing as it was on the outside. As far as I could see, it had neither doors nor windows. The wall closed behind me with a roar.
Щом няма прозорци и въобще светлина, не би могъл да вижда много надалеч дали има врати. Може би е по-добре нещо като просто There were no doors or windows.

I remembered a song that was popular when I was a child: ‘If man is five/and the devil is six/and if the devil is six/then god is seven’.
Текстът е малко по-друг.
Направих си труда да чуя песента. Тя въобще би ли могла да бъде популярна някога?

He wounded up, and stooped over me: his long nose almost touching mine; his eyes fixed on mine, inquisitively.
Това не го разбрах: "He wounded up". Това е миналото време на wound, не ми се връзва.

My eyebrows were already lost somewhere in the roots of my hair.
По-скоро lost somewhere in my hairline.

I realised all this eyebrow raising would cause wrinkles (thoughts like this were definitely a heritage of my female past), so I returned them at initial position.
Върнал е бръчките в изходно положение?

I stuck to the wall, as his massive feet torn his little green shoes, and swept towards me.
"Tore".

‘… Snoring, Singing-falsetto, and Putting-clothes-on-a-dog.’
Остро възразявам за хъркането! То не е резултат от волево решение на човека, съответно не може да обвиняваме някого за него.
Строго погледнато, дребните кучета имат нужда от дрехи, за да не умрат от студ. Обаче не може да се отрече, че има малоумници, които намират някакво странно удоволствие в обличането на кучета, които не се нуждаят от това.

‘The thief has betrayed you,’ said the mermaid. ‘He was seized by Greed, and sold you for a sixpence,’
‘The guard has betrayed you too,’ said the seven. ‘He was seized by Wrath and he sought revenge for Vav leaving him here.’
There was a triumphal pause. Then the mermaid said: ‘Vav has betrayed you.’
Струва ми се, макар че не съм абсолютно сигурен, че и за трите изречения е по-добре просто минало, betrayed you.
Като странична забележка, само не ми казвай, че тази русалка е резултат от това изказване на Black Francis (който и да е той, тази група ми е напълно непозната): “It’s also a very mythological place where there are octopus’s gardens, the Bermuda Triangle, Atlantis, and mermaids.” (http://www.last.fm/music/Pixies/_/Monke ... aven/+wiki)

‘I’m going to rip up your flesh.’ The mermaid licked her front teeth. ‘And I’m going to dash down your blood.’
Струва ми се трудно да "dash down" нечия кръв - за целта трябва да е събрана в съд, иначе не може да изтече толкова бързо. Или се вманиачавам?

I tried to don’t look scared, but I’d grown wan.
Това не го разбрах: "grown wan"

She took the necklace, and threw it into the air.
Това си го представям като хвърляне на цялата огърлица във въздуха. Пък пада само монетата.

A lightening came out of it and hit the ceiling.
Lightning - lightening се оказа, че съществува все пак като дума, но е по-друго.

"Мunch" на двете места - това употребява ли се като повелителна форма? Мислех, че е само по-образен глагол, описващ ядене. Все едно на български някой да ти каже "нагъвай" - не че не може, ама би било изключително рядко.