Amnesia Moon Read Free Page B

reservoir.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” asked Chaos.
    â€œMelinda.”
    â€œOkay, Melinda. We’re going to try and talk to Kellogg. Whatever happens, just stick with me, okay? We’ll be back in Hatfork tonight.”
    Melinda nodded. Edge said, “Why would anyone want to be back in Hatfork?” Chaos ignored him.
    The crowd parted to give Kellogg a view of the newcomers. He turned in his chair, smiling broadly, his stomach creasing like a twisted balloon, and plucked the cigar from his mouth. “Well, hello, Kingsford,” he said. “I see you brought some guests.”
    â€œC’mon, Kellogg. Call me Edge.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter with your Christian name? I think it sounds very noble. You descended from royalty?”
    â€œC’mon, Kellogg,” whined Edge. “You know where I’m
descended
from. You made the name up yourself. Call me Edge.”
    â€œCall me Edge,” Kellogg parroted. “Call me Ishmael. Call me anything, but don’t call me late for dinner. Or what’s that other one? Call me a cab, okay, you’re a malted.” He laughed. “What tidings do you bear? Ill, I suppose. Beware, Kingsford, we may kill the messenger, just this once. We’re a hungry bunch.”
    â€œCut it out, Kellogg. I don’t bear
tidings.
I just came from here.”
    â€œSo I recall. It’s your company that’s new.” Kellogg furrowed his brow. “Behold,” he said, his tone changed. Now he was playing to the gallery. “Chaos has arrived. Uncalled, uninvited, as usual.”
    The crowd stared dully, as if trying to match Chaos’s shambling arrival with the drama of the words.
    â€œWith him walks a monster,” Kellogg continued. “A mutant, an aberration. Hold, Chaos. Stand your ground, advance no further upon this company. Heh. Bring you a curse on our humble celebration?”
    Beside the fire, strapped to a spit, was a reddened carcass, a dog or goat. A few empty cans lay discarded at the fringes of the circle.
    â€œI want to talk to you about food,” said Chaos.
    There was a murmur in the crowd of Little Americans.
    â€œShortly we shall suckle at the fount of nutrition,” said Kellogg. “The bitter sea will at last embrace her suitors.”
    â€œWhere are the food trucks?” said Chaos.
    Kellogg waved his hand. “Listen, Chaos: if I were on the surface of the ocean, floating, and you were standing on a bridge, with a rope attached to my belt, would you be able to lift me?” He raised an eyebrow to punctuate the riddle.
    â€œThe belt would break?” volunteered Edge. He’d abandoned Chaos and the girl and elbowed his way into the crowd beside Kellogg.
    Kellogg ignored Edge’s guess. “You wouldn’t,” he said. “But if I were at the bottom of the ocean and you were on a boat, would you be able to lift me to the surface?”
    â€œI don’t see any of your Food Rangers, Kellogg,” said Chaos. “What’s the matter? They take off with your trucks?”
    â€œBuoyancy!” shouted Kellogg. “Man’s burden lifted!”
    The crowd seemed cheered by Kellogg’s confidence. Someone had been sawing the lid off a can of beans, and now this was passed forward into Kellogg’s hands. He plunged a finger into the can, lifted it out, and sucked up a glistening mouthful of beans and sauce. Chaos experienced the fantasy that this was literally the last can of food in Wyoming. It followed that it would be consumed by Kellogg, the last fat man anywhere, as far as Chaos knew.
    â€œThe ocean calls,” said Kellogg, chewing.
    â€œThe ocean’s a thousand miles away,” said Chaos. He allowed himself to feel that his stubbornness was courage. Maybe it was.
    â€œAh,” said Kellogg. “But that’s where you’re mistaken, Chaos. The planets are in alignment. The continental plates are in motion. The