by Mark Tufo
“I’m coming Michael, and hell hath no fury like…well like me, I suppose.”
Chapter 18
MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 14
Each step I took helped to dissolve whatever was going on in my fried head. I could almost have a complete thought without careening off into a variety of directions or crying. You cannot sympathize with one with mental illness until you think a thought in their mind. It’s like, if someone tells you they have sciatica, you look at them with concern and you sympathize and then you tell them to hurry up because they’re lagging behind on your walk. Then the day comes where you get the mind blistering pain that starts in your lower back and travels down one or both legs only it’s impossible to touch or pinpoint. It’s like someone shoved a screwdriver, hilt deep into the small of your back and slowly twists it back and forth, all day, every day, even more so at night so that you can do nothing except think about the intense discomfort you are in. We can empathize to a point, we can have true concern and care deeply for something afflicting another, but until we experience it firsthand, we cannot feel it.
For all those that had mental issues and my rote answer was “buck up,” I am truly sorry. There is no manner of physical pain that I would not endure repeatedly, rather than suffer through the quagmire that is an ill-firing set of synapses. That thought no sooner pervaded my mind and I started to cry again. Funny enough, the Marine part of me told me to “buck the fuck up.” Fuck, I’m an asshole–even to myself. We’re hardest on those we love. I got a grim smile of satisfaction for that thought. I’d mostly been walking with my head down, following Bill, so when he said “Food” from behind me, it was a little bit of a surprise.
“He says Tomas is gaining ground on us,” Linnick interpreted.
“You got all of that from ‘food’?” I asked. When I turned to look I still couldn’t see a thing on the horizon. “Is it worth picking up the pace or do we stand and fight? It seems that Bill can have his way with him.”
“Fooood.” Bill drew out his answer.
Linnick took a second, I guess tabulating her answer before she replied. “Bill says he surprised the boy the first time and it would be unlikely that he would be able to do so again. They had a deal already worked out between them. Tomas would not have expected Bill to react like that.”
“So, you were working with Tomas? What changed your mind?” I asked. Bill’s features rotated away from me, apparently, he was not in the mood for answering questions. “I guess in the end it doesn’t matter; that we are together now is what counts. I mean unless, of course, you struck up a different deal with someone else.”
“Food.” Bill was allaying my fears, I hoped.
“He says you have the mark upon you; it is subtle and could be easily overlooked, but it is indeed there.”
“What mark? Like a scarlet letter? Am I considered a harlot?”
“Of the being, you call God.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It got Bill to be your friend.”
“That’s true. Why subtle, though? Was God not sure he wanted to be my friend? Did he figure if he placed it on lightly nobody would know? Am I like a fucking scooter?”
“Scooter?” Linnick asked.
“Yeah, everyone thought they were fun to ride until a friend saw you on one.”
“You believe your god only wanted to be your friend as long as no one became aware of it?”
“Well, I mean it sounds a little stretched thin when you say it like that, but yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
“Perhaps it is meant to protect you. If those around you are unaware, they may not attempt to use it against you.”
“Great. I’m getting logic lessons from an insect.”
“Stop being so ugly on the inside!” she berated me.
“Damn, Linnick. You are one tough cookie. I’m honestly pretty happy I have this size advantage on you.”
“You should be. You look strikingly like something I have dined on from time to time, though you do not have arms that end in sharp points.”
That rustled the leaves of a memory way down the tree of my thoughts before the wind stilled and I thought no more about it.
“Alright, let’s figure this out. I am apparently blessed by the hand of…”
“Not blessed, touched,” Linnick explained.
“There’s a difference?”
“According to Bill.”
“I’m really going to need the Food-to-English translation handbook sometime soon. Fine, touched, for whatever that affords me; there are still three of us against one.” I had a hard time adding Linnick into a conflict situation but she would have been offended if I had not and would have let me know. Besides, Bill pretty much counted as two anyway, so my original number still held up.
“Tomas has help; we would be overtaken.”
“Oh, come on, Bill didn’t even say anything this time. I think you’re making shit up now.”
Bill shuffled past and definitely picked up the pace. Linnick looked at me as if Bill’s moving was all the evidence she needed to prove she was right. Which she was, of course, she always was; she was female. When has a female ever been wrong? It’s like they feel the need to always be right since the whole apple from the tree of knowledge fiasco. Which I’m sure was Adam’s doing. Like he begged her to make him an apple pie for his birthday or some shit. So, we’ve been giving Eve crap since the dawn of time for fucking up the Garden when it was Adam’s cavernous stomach that was really the undoing. Yup, pretty much a normal string of thoughts for me, but then I wept for the loss of the Garden. Jacked up hormones were going to be my personal undoing.
“Bill, how did Tommy get away?” I asked. He never slowed as his features twisted around to look at me, then they just kept going until they were front and center again like he needed an exorcism. He did not deign to answer.
“It is still too painful for him to answer that.”
“How do you know that, Linnick?”
“Did you not see it on his face?”
I wanted to tell her that all I saw was melting green wax. Instead, I nodded like I knew what the hell I was saying.
“Ow! Dammit Linnick, stop biting me! I’m moving just as fast as Bill.”
“I didn’t touch you.” She was standing on my shoulder; the bite had come under my arm.
“Fuck!” Bill turned at my shout. “Something bit me again!” I was still looking accusingly at Linnick like she had somehow done it.
I had to sidestep Bill, who had stopped. I felt a flash of heat travel up my neck and cover the top of my scalp like I’d put on a heavy knit cap.
“Bill, wants you to show him where you got bit.”
“It’s…nothing.” A wave of euphoria flooded over me.
I attempted to bat Bill’s hands away. But have you ever fought jello? It can absorb a hell of a punch.
“Oh, oh.” This from Linnick, once my shirt was off.
That doused the feelings of wellness I was experiencing.
“Oh, oh?”
“You have Thrimes.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Shit, I had chicken pox once, that sounds way worse.”
“It’s a parasite that can kill you.”
“Like a tick that steals your blood and infects you with a horrible bacterium or a gold-digger who latches on and leeches everything financially from you?” I asked.
“I do not know what either of those is, but a Thrime feeds off your memories. It consumes them to the point that you will no longer know how to make your heart continue to beat.”
The weepy side of me wanted to say “Yay. I can forget all the crap that’s been going on.” The side getting pumped with endorphins didn’t give two shits. The Thrimes were welcome to my memories. Hell, most of them sucked ass anyway. Yeah, that was until I first felt them being leeched away. I don’t even know how I can explain the unraveling of a memory. It was a moment I’d nearly forgotten in the annals of time. Something small, but poignant; one of the bab
y building blocks that led to the love of Tracy. It was one of our first dates; I was pretty nervous, which in itself was weird. Now I’m not saying I was Mister Smooth Moves, but I’d dated enough to have the basics down, so the fact that I was nervous meant that my higher self, sort of already knew this was the real deal. Weird, but what clued me in was that she didn’t automatically laugh at my shitty jokes.
I had some pretty good witticisms, and she got a kick out of that, but when I missed, she wasn’t too shy to let me know. And fuck, if I didn’t find that endearing. There was no fakeness to her; she showed you who she was up front, and that’s a rare quality. I could feel the hammer of enamor being dropped. That was the memory the Thrime was first showing me and then devouring.
“Get them out, Bill!” I started clutching my head and running in circles. I couldn’t imagine all the things housed in my head that were there for the taking. My wedding days, the birth of all my children, our first night with George the adopted wonder bully, the meeting of wonderful friends. Sure, there were thousands upon thousands of shitty memories they could take, the death of so many of those I loved being at the top of the list, but I don’t think I had the option or ability to pick and choose what they took; and I certainly couldn’t risk the sweet to purge the nasty ones. I reached to scratch at one and was met with something like I’d touched an electrified thorn, and that wasn’t anything compared to the pain that rocketed from the bite. Bill immediately grabbed my hand in his, but it wasn’t like I was in a rush to try that again.
“Food.” Bill shook his head solemnly.
“I’ve got something to tell you, Tallboat, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“You mean it’s worse than bugs that eat your memories?”
“It’s a matter of perspective.” I noticed she was in hurry to get off of me. She was speaking as she headed south.
“What the hell, Linnick?” I should have known she was distracting me, I never even got all the information or the option to disagree with this plan of action. My entire right side went numb as Bill moved in. “Wait a min–!” Was all I managed to get out before I was once again completely engulfed inside of him. Somehow, knowing about the pain makes it worse; you tense up. Or maybe the second time around just is worse, like your body absolutely doesn’t want to handle the stress of being reduced to the atomic level and then put back together again and again, like Humpty-fucking-Dumpty. I didn’t even have the advantage to visit a happy place as I recovered because I couldn’t even imagine such a place existed. I won’t go into the pain again, why would I? It was worse than the first time and altogether an experience I wish the Thrimes had taken with them.
At some point, I realized we were mobile again, though I was certainly not under my own locomotion. Bill was carrying me half inside of him like I was luggage tucked under a fat man’s arm and his body had wrapped around the bag. Linnick would occasionally lift an eyelid to see how I was doing, or ask, but I could do little more than grunt that I yet lived.
“How long this time?” I asked. My throat was rough and raw like I’d chugged scalding grapefruit juice, heavy with pulp and seeds and those little bits had burned into the soft flesh of my esophagus.
“It has been five days since you were bitten.”
“The Thrimes?”
“They are next to you.” I tried to move away but I was wedged tight and now that I thought about it, I was claustrophobically wedged tight. Tight as in: Let Me the Fuck Go. Now. tight. You ever have an older sibling hold you down and torture you? Yeah, that kind of squeezed tight.
“Let me out, Bill.” At first, it was a statement, then it moved quickly to a demand, then right off into pathetic begging. Bill released his grip. It was sort of like being released from a giant jello mold replete with squishy and glopping noises. I fell to the ground. For some reason, I felt like a recently birthed hippo calf. I don’t know why; perhaps because I’d just dropped unceremoniously to the ground and I was covered in what could be considered afterbirth. Bill’s features circled his head like a damned lighthouse in a particularly foggy night, warning mariners of the dangerous shoals, although I knew he didn’t want to warn anybody but us of impending danger.
“What have I missed?” I asked Linnick when I felt I had the ability to stand again. My eyes went immediately to the two Thrimes still encased in Bill. They were the size and shape of a birthday candle, except for the mouth and head part that looked very much like a tick from my world. The head was small and dominated by mouth parts that burrowed and locked into its host with evolutionary amazement. Little fuckers.
“Tomas is much nearer; we must not stop moving.”
“I am really sick of this movie. I think I might ask for my money back at the concession stand.”
“Bill, says that you have to eat the Thrimes.”
“Um, fuck no.”
“They have eaten memories important to you and the only way to gain them back is by eating the Thrimes.”
“No, Linnick. Have you seen those things? They make you look like a Disney Princess. And who gives a shit about a few memories? If I can’t remember them what do I need them for? Kind of like a junk drawer–you stick everything in there that you’re too afraid to throw away because you figure someday you’ll need it. But you know what happens? Ok, I’ll tell you. First you forget it’s in there, so you go get a replacement which might also be swallowed up by the drawer. Another likely outcome is you never ever need it again and all you do is completely fill the damn drawer up. I had a house once where we had three…three active junk drawers. Who does that shit?”
“Tallboat, what is your daughter’s name?”
“Huh! That’s easy enough, Nicole. My daughter’s name is Nicole.”
“Your other daughter.”
“What?” I was completely perplexed. I had absolutely no idea about what or whom she was talking about.
“You had twins with Azile.”
“I know Azile!” I said triumphantly. “And MJ, yeah I know him. Even Oggie and the damn cat!” But there it was, a hole where I knew something should be. Like when something small has been removed from a not often dusted dresser top. I could see a bunch of pictures on there…but, yeah…why is that one spot free from dust? I knew there should be a frame housing a picture, but of what?
“He says you do not have much time, that he has slowed their systems, but once they eliminate, their gleanings will be lost forever.”
“So, you’re saying that once my memories become shit, they aren’t retrievable? I mean that’s what he’s saying, isn’t it? Oh, just fantastic.” I swallowed hard, looking at the worm-like parasites. Maybe shouldn’t have done that. I saw hairs, thick hairs that covered a fair amount of their bodies and the parts that didn’t have fur were scaly. I psyched myself up as best I could to do what needed to be done. “I’m ready, Bill.” He pushed them closer to the surface where I was able to grab one. I tilted my head back and dangled that wiggling mass above my head; I was going to do the goldfish swallow. Not that I’d ever done it, but I’d seen it done before.
“You have to chew them up good, Tallboat or they can attach inside your body.”
“Oh, for fuck’s…you suck, Linnick.” I stuck the first one in my mouth and chewed like I needed to break rocks, trying to avoid my tongue, which is impossible, by the way. The entire thing tasted like a blister pill of bile and had the consistency of a raw oyster. There was not one redeeming quality about the entire experience…until some lost memories rushed back into their respective holding spots inside my head; suddenly, there was Mathieu, holding a mug of deep brown ale up to the light. I’m not going to say, I couldn’t wait to devour the last two of those juicy little suckers, but I wanted what was mine. The second one, after watching what had happened to his friend, was wriggling with extreme prejudice making sure those barbed hairs were touching me continuously. He was hoping I’d drop him and he could go about his way. Not a chance. I ripped his head off like a geek on a chicken. I chewed, c
hoked, and chugged that thing down, saddened that I had nothing to wash the bitter taste away with.
“Alianna!” I raised my head triumphantly. “Her name is Alianna!” It didn’t completely make me forget about the taste in my mouth, but it helped. “How could I ever forget that?”
“It is good to have you back, Tallboat. You umm…have a little bit of gore in your facial hair.”
I wiped it away quickly with my sleeve, definitely not my tongue. I could only hope that what I wiped away was something like the discomfort from a diaper rash I suffered when I was a year and a half old, I’d be alright not recalling that one.
It took me longer than it should have, I was still trying to get over the lingering ache from the transfer and the bitter bugs I’d had to swallow but I finally got around to thanking Bill.
“Hmmm,” he grunted.
“Well, that’s different.”
“He’s worried.”
“Do tell.”
I couldn’t help but think Linnick was making this up as she went along. Sort of like my Nicole used to do with her baby brother Justin. We’d be in the car on a hot summer day and Justin, at eighteen months or so, would utter something that sounded like Klingon, but not quite, and his “big sissy” would decipher it for us and it would usually sound something like “Justin says he wants ice cream” or “Justin said he wants to go to the water park” when I’m pretty sure all he was saying was “red truck!” or “my farts smell.”
“We had to stop frequently while you were recovering, and in that time, Tommy did not move much closer, though he should have been able to. Also, the demons are beginning to push the Polions back–straight toward us.”
“So, Tommy is merely keeping an eye on us, which means he has a healthy fear of us and/or he is waiting for backup. Doesn’t make much sense. He would not keep tailing us for all this distance without coming in for the kill.”