George said, "I want Joe."_Return to Pleasure Island

Orville stared at him. George set his face into a blank mask. Finally, Orville

said, "If that's what you want, that's what you'll get."

George didn't have anything to fetch from the cabin, and Orville thought it

would be best if he spoke to Bill alone, so he sent George to the stables to get

Joe.

The donkey stables were beyond Ops, at the very edge of the island, opposite the

docks where the ferries brought new boys in. A different kind of boat docked

there, large utility freighters that brought in everything the Island needed and

took away braying, kicking herds of jackasses.

The donkeys shifted nervously in their stalls. George smelled horse-apples and

hay, and heard fidgeting hooves and quiet, braying sobs. He wasn't clear on what

happened to donkeys when they went back to the mainland, but he had an idea that

it wasn't very pleasant. On the Island, donkeys were prizes, a sign that a boy's

every wish had been gratified. What happened afterwards wasn't something that

they were encouraged to think about.

He walked down the clean, wooden aisles, peering into the stalls, looking for

Joe. Finally, in a dark stall in the very darkest corner of the stables, he

found him. A large, pot-bellied jackass, who leapt up and brayed loudly at him

when he clucked his tongue at it.

"Joe?" he asked softly.

The donkey brayed again and kicked at the stall's door. It was already

splintered from many such kicks. George opened the catch and was nearly trampled

beneath Joe's hooves as he ran out and away, braying loudly. George chased his

brother. He didn't start very fast, but once he got going, inertia made him

unstoppable.

He cornered Joe at the door that led out to the Island. The donkey was kicking

at it, trying for escape. George locked his strong right arm around Joe's neck.

"Stop it, Joe," he said. "I'm taking you out with me, but you have to stop it."

Joe's eyes rolled madly, and he struggled against George, kicking and biting.

George waited in silence until the donkey tired, then used a bridle hanging on

the wall to lead Joe out of the stables.

When Joe saw Orville waiting for them, he went wild again. George caught him by

the hind leg and dragged him to the ground, while Orville danced back with a

strange grace.

Orville grinned and said, "I guess he doesn't like me very much." He came

forward and darted an affectionate pat on Joe's haunch.

Joe brayed loudly and George kept his own counsel. Orville led them down a

utilidor and into an electric tram with an open car. George led Joe in and held

onto his neck while Orville sped down the utilidor. He drove up a service ramp

and out into HorrorZone, then to the doors of the newly completed Monster's

Arms.

George and Joe lived in the Monster's Arms. Every morning, Orville paid them a

visit and snuck looks at George's thumbs. They were intact.

George wanted to have a son, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Orville's

visits grew shorter, and Orville's manner grew more irritated. Still, George had

no son.

One day, he waited until Joe was napping, and slipped out through the

iron-maiden elevator, right down into the utilidor.

The tram driver recognised him and took him out to the cabin. The last mile of

the utilidor was dusty and disused. George leaped off the tram and walked

quickly to the cabin, his heart racing. It had been so long since he'd seen Bill

and little Tom. He missed them terribly.

The little cabin was even smaller than George remembered it, and it looked sad,

sagging and ramshackle. He hesitated at the door, then, feeling a stranger,

knocked.

There was movement inside, but no voices, and the door stayed shut. George

opened the door.

It was a disaster. The kitchen cupboards were smashed in, the little table

knocked over and splintered, the bedding scattered and soiled. Deep shadows

collected in the corners.

"Bill?" George called, softly. A shadow stirred, an indistinct figure within its

depths.

"Bill, it's George. I missed you. I need to talk with you. I'm confused."

The shadow stirred again. George crept forward, peering, his old eyes

night-dimmed.

Bill huddled in the corner, wracked and wasted. He stared up at George through

eyes filmed with tears. He held up his hands. They had already begun to shape

themselves into hooves, but George could still see that both his thumbs were

gone. His ears were pointed and long.

"Oh, Bill," George said.

His brother let out a braying sob, and George saw he had no tongue.

Orville came looking for them the next morning.

"Where are the sons?" George asked him, while stroking the donkey's head in his

lap.

Orville smiled a slightly abashed smile. "I'm keeping them safe. I didn't think

that Bill was in any shape to take care of them."

George said, "I'll take care of them. Bring them here. Joe, too -- he's in the

room. I'll take care of them all."

Orville smiled his abashed smile again, then gave George an ironic salute. "Yes,

sir," he said. He patted Bill's haunch and smiled to himself.

George didn't know how to respond to irony, so he held his brother more tightly.

Eventually, Orville went away, and then came back a while after that. He drove

an electric cart. In the front seat, three sons bounced -- Tom, bright and

curious; another, strong and big; a third, whose little pot belly jiggled as he

talked and talked and talked. In a trailer, Joe kicked and fought against his

bonds.

George let him out first, then took the sons to the porch. Joe and Bill stared

at each other for a long moment, then Bill brayed out a long, donkeyish laugh.

Orville looked with proprietary satisfaction at the donkeys, then at the sons,

then at George. He waggled a finger at George, as if to say, _I'll be back for

you, someday_. Then he got into his tram and drove off.

George went back inside and made dinner for his family.

<!--

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<dc:title>Home Again, Home Again</dc:title>

<dc:date>1999-2-1</dc:date>

<dc:description>A science-fiction short story by Cory Doctorow about the

golems who tend the rides at Pleasure Island, the park where Pinnocchio and his

friend Lamwick are turned into donkeys in Carlo Collodi's novel Pinnocchio, from the

short story collection "A Place So Foreign and Eight More," published by Four Walls

Eight Windows press in September, 2003 (ISBN: 1568582862)</dc:description>

<dc:creator><Agent>

<dc:title>Cory Doctorow</dc:title>

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<dc:title>Cory Doctorow</dc:title>

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