They Called It A Quake-Nado

They stood on a hot patch of desert earth. Despite the 80 degree heat, the Caretaker was still wearing his long coat, hands buried deep in its pockets. May wiped away beads of sweat from above her eyes.

"This is a terrible idea." May said it mostly to herself.

"Eh," the Caretaker shrugged.

"It's selfish." May was sure about that. She dug the heels of her sneakers into the dirt.

The Caretaker had on his contemplative expression. "Earthquakes happen for all sorts of unnatural reasons, you know?"

"They do?" May wasn't quite sure why she was so surprised.

"The higher plane is not a perfect system. Sometimes, a rupture is needed to restore balance."

May thought for a moment. "You wanted to try this anyway didn't you?" She stared at him until he met her eyes.

"I suppose," he said blandly.

May felt both relief and disappointment. "And there is nothing I could say that would stop you?"

He looked confused. "You don't want to stop me. Remember?" He poked one of her cheeks. "Do you have some sort of illness? You want to meet my boss."

She slapped away his hand. "I know. I'm just...clearing my conscience."

A gust of hot wind blew back his coat. "Guilt is one of the most oppressive forms of pain." He smiled in the sinister way she had grown to hate. "It fuels me quite a lot."

"Whatever." May didn't feel like unpacking this. "Let's just get this over with."

The Caretaker stepped forward and closed his eyes.

"WAIT." May shouted breathlessly. "You can make it small right? Make it so people aren't hurt just...scared. Ok? You can do that?"

He looked back at her and shook his head in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

"I already explained that I cannot."

May knew it. She felt stuck in place, fists clenched at her sides, watching him appear to grow taller as he focused.

A minute passed, then another. May let out a tiny breath. Perhaps he couldn't do it?

The wind grew stronger, his coat flapped behind him like bat wings.

Then, she felt it. Beneath her there was a mighty yawn. And then an ominous rumbling.

The ground began to shake and May dropped to her knees, curling up into a ball as the world violently moved beneath her.

There was a sound like a giant crash nearby, but May didn't dare look up. The wind had picked up speed and she was attacked by dust and bugs and flecks of rock and all she could do was keep her eyes and mouth as tightly closed as possible and bury her head in her shirt.

When it finally stopped, when the earth steadied and the wind quieted, May remained in the fetal position. She opened one eye carefully, then the other.

"Shall I hug you again?"

He was kneeling beside her inquisitively.

"No," May coughed. She sat up.

There was a clear patch of desert that extended three feet around her on all sides. Past it, the space looked like a warzone. There was all sorts of debris; detached porch swings and broken branches, a dumps worth of litter.

"What did--" May stopped.

The Caretaker looked pleased with himself. "Some sort of mini tornado, I think."

"TORNADO?" May stood up shakily and promptly fell over.

He caught her and stood her upright.

May grabbed the sleeve of his coat. "Take me home. Take me home, NOW."

He clenched his jaw.

In a second, they were there. May had grown so used to this instant transportation that she could focus immediately. The rest of the street was battleworn. A power line was knocked over and the whole area was strewn in trash. Except for her apartment building, which looked--

"Fine." May couldn't believe it. "It looks...alright."

"Interesting," the Caretaker said, as if he didn't believe it himself.

May checked her phone to see half a dozen messages.

**Are you okay? WTF was that?! **

**Mom and I are fine, don't worry. Let us know if you're okay. We're glad you left the house.

The hospital got rocked badly, it's my first earthquake since coming to L.A. Celebrate soon? **

**MAY CALL ME WHAT CALL ME. **

May texted her parents to tell them she was alright, and then checked the news. Zero fatalities so far. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"What is it?" He peeked over her shoulder.

"Hey!" She pressed the screen against her heart, blocking his view. Recovering quickly she stepped forward and faced him. "No one is dead so far."

"Oh." He had on his blank face.

"Would you care if people were?" The words left her before she could stop them.

The Caretaker gave her a look that said he was absolutely not going to answer. Then, he gestured to the apartment building. "Shall we go in?"

May registered the familiar tightening sensation around her chest. "No. I need to go somewhere else."

"Where?"

"Somewhere dark. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere--"

She had been cut off by the now familiar whooshing sensation.

When they landed, it was both dark and quiet.

May felt around for her phone. "Where are we?"

She raised a hand to shield her eyes as the lights went on. The Caretaker was sitting in a middle row of an old-fashioned movie theater stuffing handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. "Ird--an--day--"

"What?"

He swallowed. "It's The Third Man Day."

"The Third Man...the movie?" May took in the giant screen and the comfy rows of armchairs.

The Caretaker looked almost impressed. "Noir day is on the third Monday of every month." He paused. "I've done what you wanted, now you should do what I want." He gulped down more popcorn. "That is human fairness."

May watched him eat and realized she was starving. She threw down her bag and climbed over the seats until she reached his row. She reached for popcorn.

"Mine." He slapped her hand away like a toddler.

May let out a snort. "Friends share popcorn."

He sniffed but allowed her to take a handful.

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Why do you never want to see your parents?" The Caretaker asked.

May was startled.

"People who love people want to see them." He crossed his legs the other direction on the seatback in front of him.

One side of May's mouth curled upwards. "Guilt," she said. She knew that he would understand.

"Ah," he chewed loudly. "Because you contribute nothing of value to your household."

'Yes." May rather liked that he put it that way. It was clinical, less emotional.

"Pain like yours, most people's pain really on this side of the world is caused by capitalism."

He was a lecturer again, and May couldn't help but laugh.

"The spirits can't stop capitalism, huh?"

The Caretaker put an arm around her in a way that felt both dangerous and comforting. He leaned in close. "Humans must organize themselves according to their own greed and stupidity."

He paused as she leaned away and encircled her more securely. "You're anxious," he said, by way of explanation.

"Thanks," May said quietly, and reached for more popcorn.

She had to break the silence. "When will your boss summon you?"

He shrugged. "Could be any minute, could be years?"

"YEARS?!" May jumped.

He laughed loudly for the first time. The sound was gorgeous. May dug her nails into her palms. She did not want to think of any part of him as gorgeous.

"You look angry." He stopped laughing.

"I need water," she said hurriedly. It appeared in the cup holder beside her. "I want chocolate," she said. The bar from her room appeared in her lap. She scratched her head harshly. "I wanna watch the movie."

On cue, the soundtrack began and the lights dimmed.

When Orson Welles appeared in that famous shaft of light, May glanced over at the man/being beside her. Everytime he appeared it was like that shot. But being with him was like the sewer sequence. It was claustrophobic and heart pounding intense, with light sources seemingly just around the corner, only to have them snatched away at the last second.

May pondered this as her head sank down onto the Caretaker's shoulder and the final shootout began.