The Ninth Nightmare

night-club-style rope. It was guarded by two huge black men with shaved heads and mirror sunglasses and black suits that rivaled the size of Brother Albrecht’s circus tents.

John and Rhodajane approached them cautiously, expecting to be stopped. But as they came nearer, the security guards unhooked the rope, and pressed themselves back against the walls on either side, so that their double-chins bulged out. ‘Afternoon, Ms Schulz. How’s it going?’

‘Fine, thanks, Sherwin. How are you, Lamar? I think we’re all set for tonight.’

John turned around and accidentally stumbled over one of the security guard’s feet. That voice wasn’t Deano’s. That wasn’t even a man’s voice. He and Rhodajane were being closely followed by a small Jewish-looking woman with a haircut like a jet-black skullcap and a large complicated nose and pouting crimson lips. She was wearing an electric-bronze suit with padded shoulders and a flared waistline and a skirt that was much too short and tight for her age.

‘Come on, John!’ she said, pushing him forward. ‘Always such a klutz!’ She looked up at the security guard and said, ‘Sorry, Lamar.’

‘No problem, Ms Schulz.’

The Jewish-looking woman took hold of John’s sleeve and Rhodajane’s sleeve, too, and pulled both of them along the corridor together until they reached Room 237.

‘What in hell is going on here?’ Rhodajane protested. ‘Who are you? What the hell happened to what’s-his-face?’

The woman stared up at her and her eyes were glittering intently. ‘I am what’s- his-face, Xyrena. How do you think I can gain access to any place I need to? How do you think I can win people’s confidence? Whoever people trust, whoever they confide in, that’s who I am.’

‘And right now?’ John asked her.

‘Right now, John-boy, I’m a dead ringer for Lois Schulz, the Kaiser Twins’ manager. It’s an illusion, that’s all. I can look like anybody. I could look like you, if I wanted to.’

‘What if the real Lois Schulz is here right now?’ asked Rhodajane. ‘You’re going to walk in and there’s going to be two Lois Schulzes?’

‘No chance of that. Right now the real Lois Schulz is at the State Theater, making last-minute adjustments to the lighting sequences for tonight’s show. And she’s not very happy, so she’s going to be gone for some time.’

‘OK. I believe you. I don’t know why I believe you. I shouldn’t believe you. But I believe you.’

Springer gave a quick knock at Room 237 and called out, ‘Hi, there, kids! It’s only me!’

She opened the door and walked right in. Rhodajane grabbed John’s sleeve and let out a squeaky, hysterical whisper right into his left ear. ‘The Kaiser Twins! It’s really them! I can’t believe it!’

‘Come on,’ said John. ‘They’re only human, just like us.’

‘But they’re so famous! And I love them!’

Kieran and Kiera were both in Room 237. Kieran was sprawled out on the bed in a torn red T-shirt and gray jogging pants, playing Killer Zombies; while Kiera was perched on the rococo stool in front of her dressing table, wearing nothing but a Rams football shirt, polishing her toenails with purple glitter.

‘You’re back quick, Lois,’ said Kieran, without taking his eyes off the TV screen. ‘Are you happy with all of those lights now?’

‘Actually, I brought a couple of old friends of mine to see you,’ said Springer. John was still fascinated by Springer’s transformation into ‘Lois Schulz.’ Enormous gold hoops as big as parrot perches swung from her ear lobes and she wore knobbly semi-precious rings on every finger, as well as an ostentatious sapphire brooch in the shape of a death’s-head moth. ‘This is Rhodajane and this is John. Say hi, twins.’

Kiera looked up from her toenails and said, ‘Hi.’ Kieran simply lifted his left hand and twiddled his fingers in a wave.

Springer said, ‘The reason I brought my friends here is because there’s been a change of plan.’

‘Change of plan?’ frowned Kiera. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means you won’t be singing tonight. You’ll be doing something more important instead.’

Kiera looked up from her toenail-polishing. ‘We’re not singing? Why?’

Springer patted her shoulder in a motherly way. ‘You won’t be singing, my darling, because you can’t sing when you’re asleep, and when you’re awake you can’t fight. And tonight I need you to sleep, and to fight.’

‘Lois… what are you talking about?’

‘I know, I know. I sound like a meshuggenah. But how crazy did you feel when you opened up that door right over there and found yourself out in a field, and it was raining cats and dogs?’

Kiera lifted her head and stared at Springer wide-eyed. ‘Lois? How did you know about that? Kieran — did you tell her?’

‘I never said a word. I swear to God.’

Springer patted her shoulder again. ‘Kieran didn’t tell me, my darling. I knew what was going to happen even before it happened. In fact I arranged for it to happen. Why do you think I chose this particular hotel for you to stay in?’

‘You knew what was going to happen? How could you have known?’

‘You opened the door, Kiera, and there you were. You and Kieran climbed the hill to the carnival. It was raining and thundering and the tents were black and the lights were red and you met some very strange people there, didn’t you? A little man who looked more like a rat, and a bald man called Zachary.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ said Kieran. ‘I just don’t fricking believe this. It was only a dream!’

But Springer carried on. ‘Most important of all, you saw your mother. Your poor mother, who you believed was long dead, mutilated and put on show for everybody to stare at. Demi — the Demi-Goddess, the Half- Woman.’

Kieran swung his legs off the bed and stood up. His hair was sticking out sideways, as if he had just stepped inside from a hurricane. ‘How do you know about our mom, Lois? Come on, Lois, how the hell do you know? We thought it was only a nightmare, but we believed that we were sharing it because we’re twins. I mean, we share all kinds of feelings, all the time. But how do you know all about it?’

Springer sat down on the side of the bed. ‘I look very much like Lois, Kieran, but I’m not Lois.’

‘I don’t get it. Is this a joke? If it is, it’s in pretty shitty taste.’

‘Lois is still at Playhouse Square — the real Lois, that is. My name is Springer. I can take on the physical appearance of anybody I want to. Watch me. Who was your best friend at school? Kenny Ballantine? You remember Kenny Ballantine?’

Kieran looked confused. ‘Of course I remember Kenny Ballantine. He broke my goddamn iPod.’

Right in front of them, Lois Schulz began to alter. She grew taller, and her shoulders grew wider. Her black skullcap hairstyle gradually grew lighter, until it was medium-brown, and scruffy. Her face grew broader, and her eyes changed color from brown to hazel. Within less than thirty seconds, she was no longer a musical agent with dangling earrings and bright red lip gloss, but a sprawling young man of seventeen or eighteen, with holes in the knees of his Levis and a T-shirt with a black-and-white print of Kurt Cobain on the front of it.

Kieran stared at him, stunned. ‘Kenny?’ he said. ‘Kenny — is that really you?’

‘No,’ said Springer. ‘It’s not really me. But you asked me what I was capable of, didn’t you, and that’s one of the many things that I’m capable of. I needed to convince you that your mother is still alive, and that you can rescue her, if you want to.’

‘But she was cut in half!’ Kiera interrupted. ‘Not only that, she doesn’t even know that she’s our mother! Even if we rescue her, what are we going to do with her? Her mind’s gone, her legs have gone.’

Kieran said, ‘She’s still our mother. We can’t leave her like that, in that carnival? By the way, where the hell is that carnival?’

‘You were right about it the first time,’ said Springer. ‘It exists only in the world of dreams. For now, anyhow. But that doesn’t mean that it’s any less real than anything that exists only in the world of reality. You can bring your mother back, if you want to. You would obviously have to arrange for her to receive intensive physical care and psychological rehabilitation. But you’re not poor, are you? And who knows, you might even get your original mother back — or a little part of her, anyhow.’