AMKent books

Part 7

There was a time when I lived in an attic, which was dusty and claustrophobic. The landlord was old, and he still cared a lot, but he was coming to the end of his tether, the winter evening of his life, so to speak. It was before Melanie, when I was in that cycle of my brain shaking itself to death with its echoes and reverberations. The melody of my senses never played right, the binary of my spirit was a digit out of place, and the whole thing felt horrible. That attic was spooky; it creaked at the drop of a hat, and everything swelled with condensation. It was like the window was frosted; it would get so moist in there, I guess heat rises or something. I am really glad I never showed Melanie that place. I don’t think she would have judged me, but it felt shameful. Not because it was decrepit and a bit displaced. I always got the feeling that all my negative thoughts, my trashing around at night, throwing all those toxic mental sparks, it all sank into the wood and brick. I was told once that when someone dies, the room stinks of death for weeks, and it takes a whole cleaning crew to get the smell out. In a pathetic, metaphorical way, that room stank of the death of my hunger for life, and I would have been terrified to take Melanie to it, lest she be infected. I used to have anxiety attacks at night when we were first together; she would be asleep, her face twisted, and her mouth agape. I would look at that distorted mug and worry that I had imported my despair. Now I think back on it, I was foolish to think that anything of that former me was strong enough to disrupt her. I do hero worship her, and I know that isn’t healthy. I have read enough self-help books to know that shovelling my internal burdens onto someone else is unhealthy for both. She is like a fire, and my icy thoughts evaporate on impact, and I have been selfish and used her warmth to purify myself. I want to spend the rest of my life paying her back; she saved me from being an empty human, so I can start with saving her from being a mushroom.

The old tall slender man and his weird sentient to the point of uncanny valley dog sit beside an open fire, which is green, because of course it is.

Slender Old Man: “A costly spell, cast it has, a form to repel, turning ego to ash.”

Erm.

We all stand there silently, thinking of how to respond to that poem or whatever it was supposed to be.

Slender Old Man: “Confused you are, right to be, struck by a star, too bright to see.”

Wizard: “Talk normally, or your sack I will kick, so big my toe, it will make you sick.”

Slightly impressed.

Me: “Isn’t he just going to kick us out now?”

The old slender man begins to chuckle, and his dog also chuckles, which is weird.

Slender Old Man: “Ah, good chap, I didn’t think I would see you again after the whole father being exiled. Well, well, you look well, yes, and you have a lady trapped in a mushroom, I see.”

Please get me out of the mushroom.

Slender Old Man: “Well, first, my good dear, we must find out who has cast such a dastardly spell on a lovely lady like yourself. Urghu, ahruuhghauuh, hominahomina harooooga harooooga, yabadabadoooooooo.”

A magic light shines around Melanie, and a portal opens, showing a rather large lady hiding behind a bushel as Melanie and I walk down the river that fateful evening.

So, that is the person who cast a spell on me!

Wizard: “I FUCKIN KNEW IT!”

What?

Me: “What?”

Wizard: “It’s the fat girl who was dating that skinny apprentice! You know, the one that I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Oh, come on, you made her out to be the second coming of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs; she isn’t that big.

Me: “I concur.”

Wizard: “What’s a matter with you two? This James and the Giant Peach turned you into a mushroom, and you are out here spreading body positivity on her behalf?”

I just, fat jokes are kinda low-brow.

Slender Old Man: “I agree, they are certainly overused, slightly eye-rolling.”

Me: “I concur.”

Dog: “As do I.”

I fucking knew it.

Look, ok, fine, how do we find her? What is her name?

Old Slender Man: “One moment, madame, huuhaah, ahuuuuh, kawaii, arghuhu, yamete kudasai, huuurghhhhthatsagonnahurtainatheamornenaaa.”

A flash of dust spells a name out above the magical reflection, and it reads, ‘P-E-T-R-A’.

Wizard: “Petra is the fattest-sounding name I have ever heard.”

A location then emerges from the dust of rearranging letters; it reads, ‘Anvil’.

Me: “You know where that is?”

Wizard: “Yeah, it’s like a 15-minute walk from here.”

Good, the sooner the better.

Old Slender Man: “One more thing, Melanie, my dear mushroom lady. To break the spell, you must fertilise yourself in her excrement.”

…

Wizard: “…”

Me: “…”

Dog: “…”

Old Slender Man: “I am joshing, it was a josh. Sorry, you guys seemed to have a good to and throw, I wanted to join in.”

We leave the weird, creepy old guy’s house and his uncanny valley dog and make our way to Anvil, which the wizard assures us isn’t that far away.