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Cad doesn’t move sideways. It appears spontaneously: and then, implacably, silently, it moves down through genes and time like water seeking its lowest level. A heritable symbiont, they used to call it; once and only once, I cried out to Henryk, But it’s not, it’s a fucking parasite, and the pain that shot through me was impossible to describe. Perhaps if I had been hit by lightning I would have had the words. Sight gone, sound gone, a roaring whiteness, transfixed throat to heels as if on a pole of molten metal hurled by a god. I never said it again.
This thing is of me, does not belong to me. Is its own thing. Speaks its own tongue. A semi-sapient fungus scribbling across my skin and the skin of my ancestors in crayon colours, turquoise, viridian, cerulean, pine. I imagine it listening now, keenly, sipping my happiness. Hatred twists my face for a moment before I can force it back down.
“Are you okay?” Henryk says, as if we had not both said aloud that the worst punishment for a child molester should be the transmission of my own disease. “Is it … do you think it’s …”
“Getting worse? I don’t think so.”
“But you would know.”
“Yeah. It makes sure you know.” I don’t want to think about it anymore. Quick, change the subject. Easy enough, given the morning’s coup. “Look at what I got.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit. Is that — it can’t!”
His shock is gratifying. I didn’t think I’d get to tell him first, but I wanted to tell someone. I’m glad it was him, I realize. Everything he feels just pours from him like sunshine from an open window, he cannot help it, he has no shadows in him.
“How is this even possible?!” He throws an arm awkwardly around my shoulder, startling me nearly off the step. “Reid! Oh my God. You got in! Look at you! You got in! Do you know what the odds are against that? Do you know —”
“Actually, they put it in the letter. See.” I unfold the crackling thing, Dear Ms. Reid Graham, We have received your application to Howse University and are extremely pleased to confirm your acceptance, and hand it to him. His fingers are black with dirt, but the paper seems to disregard it; nothing transfers.
