The Accidental King of Achoo

by Linda J. Falkner

  When they woke in the morning, Orgizo turned to look at Despotis. “I love being in bed with you,” he said. Despotis grabbed him, and they had fierce sex again before getting up and finding their muddy clothes on the ground.

  “We can’t wear these. They are wet and muddy. Awful! We must carry our clothes back, along with the mushrooms,” Orgizo said to his lover.

  When the two men arrived back at the village, several people (who already considered Orgizo their king) whispered to each other, “Look, the king has no clothes.” They turned away and pretended not to see Orgizo and Despotis, muddy and naked, walking into the village. Nothing Orgizo could have done—not even killing someone—would have turned his loyal followers away from him.

  While Orgizo had been gone, his daughter, Erastísa, had begun cooking dinner for the village.

  “I need these mushrooms included in the dinner,” Orgizo insisted, after he had washed and dressed.

  “I have the menu all planned out,” Erastísa argued.

  “One little change won’t hurt. You can cook the mushrooms and mix them in with the meat.” Standing behind her, he reached around to massage her breast and gave her a little kiss on the cheek.

  “Okay, they will add flavor,” she conceded.

  When dinner was ready, Orgizo made the villagers wait while he climbed onto the stage to make a speech. “You are going to love this dinner. I cooked this dinner and added every spice, flavoring, and a secret ingredient. I am going to make Achoo great again, as I have made this dinner great. After you eat, you will feel wonderful. You will say, ‘Orgizo, we have never felt better in our lives. Your dinner was magical. Amazing!’ Now it is time to applaud me for this wonderful dinner. Nobody else, especially not crooked Mikro, can cook a dinner as fantastic as mine. Now let’s pray and thank me for this wonderful dinner.”

  The first course was curried corn soup with ginger. Erastísa had browned the corn and ginger, added milk, and simmered it for hours, mixing and watching the soup cook. While the soup was simmering, she had cooked a short-rib potpie. She added spices and onions, and she chopped the mushrooms her father gave her into tiny pieces. By the time they cooked, they were part of the sauce, adding flavor but not visibly noticeable. No one looking at the potpie would realize it was spiked with hallucinogenic mushrooms. Finally, Erastísa had baked a carrot cake and frosted it with a cream cheese and coconut frosting.

  “This food is amazing,” Theo said. He felt peaceful and loving as he watched colors and geometric shapes swirl around his head.

  Marcos agreed. “Never have I had food like this. It is magical.” He reached for the rainbow circling the sun and pulled it toward him.

  “We didn’t know you were such a good cook,” the villagers exclaimed. One by one, they came up to Orgizo to compliment him on the meal. Orgizo swaggered as he soaked up the praise. He never once gave Erastísa the credit she deserved, but she was not upset. She knew her daddy. She knew the rewards and punishments he could hand out, so she did not want to anger him. She knew what the villagers did not know. Her father was loving to her at times, but he also had a short fuse and a violent temper.

  Dr. Grigoros had not eaten. “I suspect that Orgizo has poisoned the food,” he said. “This doesn’t look right at all.”

  “But who will believe you?” Mikro asked.

  The villagers were swaying and chanting as a few fights broke out. “Fight, fight, get them,” Orgizo shouted, inciting the crowd. His supporters, the Truppers, were ready for a fight.

  Ahavah’s wife, Pandora, was swaying and moaning. He watched her and the other villagers with alarm. “Something is seriously wrong here,” Ahavah said.

  Gynaika overheard Ahavah, who had climbed up into a tree and was mumbling to himself. “This is frightening,” said Gynaika. “What is wrong with all these people? They look drugged.”

  Meanwhile, Orgizo was on stage, yelling loud enough to gain everyone’s attention. “When I become king, I will make Achoo great again. I will make everyone feel wonderful, serene, and happy, like now. I will bring everyone plastic Trupperware. I promise Trupperware to all of you!”

  “Trupperware! Trupperware!” the crowd yelled.

  Mikro looked at Noimon and said, “They are deplorable.”

  “The Truppers seem drugged,” said Gynaika. The friends had been suspicious of the meal and therefore had not eaten, so they remained clearheaded while most of the villagers were intoxicated.

  “There is something wrong here,” Ahavah said. “This isn’t normal at all.”

  “Oh honey, he is wonderful,” said his wife, Pandora. Her voice was smooth like honey, and her eyes looked glazed with a drugged love for Orgizo.

  Ahavah called over Dr. Grigoros to check Pandora’s pulse, which seemed okay. However, he was still worried about his wife. He had never before seen her act like this, as though she had lost her mind. “Let’s go home, honey.” He grasped her arm and tried leading her home.

  “Don’t you touch me!” Pandora pulled away. “You go home. I’m staying here to listen to Orgizo talk. He is going to make Achoo great again.”

  “I will make Achoo great again,” Orgizo yelled from the stage. “I will make Achoo strong. I will make Achoo safe. I will make Achoo proud. I am the only one who can do this,” When the crowd clapped and cheered, he swaggered with power. Orgizo loved nothing more than attention from large crowds.

  Then Orgizo noticed Polemistis standing on the sidelines. “Get that black monkey out of here. I will be the king, and I will unite us. I will make Achoo great again. I will make Achoo white again! I love everyone. I love babies, and I love people with dark skin. No, I’m only joking. Get him out of here.”

  A group of people on the sidelines grabbed Polemistis. One man took a swing and punched him in the eye, giving Polemistis a shiner. Others were beating him with their fists, and someone grabbed his leg and twisted hard. Finally, a few villagers came to his rescue and dragged Polemistis away from the crowd.

  “I’m like a smart person. When I am king, I will send all the dark-skinned and crazy-hat people out of the valley. Then I will build a wall to keep them from coming back in. I will make Achoo great again. I will be the plastic king and give everyone Trupperware.”

  The Truppers cheered, “Build a wall! Build a wall!”

  Bruised and limping, Polemistis made his way to Dr. Grigoros. He winced as the doctor patted a medication on his bruises and put an ice pack on his eye, which was swelling shut. “I don’t like the way Orgizo encourages violence,” Polemistis said. “But I don’t think he has a chance of winning the kingship. He’s much too self-centered and uncaring.”

  “You are right,” agreed Dr. Grigoros. “But I’m upset when I see how many people are falling for his crowing. He’s nothing but a self-aggrandizing bag of hot air.”

  Polemistis said, “Still, he’s doing a great deal of damage to Achoo. My dark skin has never before been a problem for the people of Achoo. Orgizo started it, and his followers ganged up and beat me up. And it’s not just the dark-skinned people—they are fighting the Hatters too.”

  Orgizo’s followers seemed blind to the disturbing trend of violence and hatred that followed Orgizo wherever he went and that he encouraged.

  Mikro, Noimon, and Gynaika left the crowd and found a quiet place to talk. “We can’t let that con man become king,” Noiman said. “After burning the pork, I am out of the running. But I will do everything in my power to help you win, Mikro.”

  “I’m with you too, Mikro,” Gynaika agreed.

  “We will both speak to the villagers on your behalf. We are well thought of, and they will listen to us,” Noimon said.

  “I’m concerned,” Mikro responded. “Orgizo has never been kind to the villagers, and he has no idea how the king is supposed to help people. And yet they are blindly following him and acting like they are drugged. He keeps lying about me being a
liar, calling me crooked, and saying I have no stamina. Some people are starting to believe his alternative facts. I don’t like it.”

  “He cheated in the contests too. There is no way he won the scavenger hunt. Something about it doesn’t seem kosher,” Noimon said.

  Mikro laughed and said, “You don’t keep kosher. Your favorite food is pork chops.”

  “Humph,” Noimon snorted. “I wonder who put the extra wood on the fire, causing the pig to burn and knocking me out of the race.” He looked at Mikro.

  “Hey, team,” Gynaika interrupted, “the important thing now is that Mikro wins. Orgizo would be dangerous as king. He can’t be trusted.”

  The three friends agreed. They would talk to the villagers and try to break the spell they seemed to be under.

  The next dinner was Despotis’s turn. However, all he served was alcoholic drinks such as White Russians and vodka.

  “Where is the food?” the villagers yelled. They were hungry and irritable.

  “I’m not here to feed or care about you villagers,” answered Despotis. “I care only about Orgizo, and I will do anything to help him become king. Do not look to me for help in any way. You have nothing to offer me. Only Orgizo has Trupperware and the booze that I crave.”

  “Then go away and leave us alone,” one villager said. “We don’t trust you or your family.”

  The contest had narrowed to two contestants, Orgizo and Mikro. Mikro had a steady temperament and knew the villagers well. Orgizo, in contrast, was a loose cannon. Nobody could predict what he would do next, or whom he would hurt. Orgizo seemed more interested in the attention he was getting than in being king. The contest should have been decided easily, but Orgizo’s mushrooms, combined with his psychopathic charisma, had drugged the villagers.

  “Charisma is a funny thing,” the counselor Axio explained to a group of friends. “Some people seem to have it naturally, whereas others struggle. People are attracted to others who seem to have a lot of self-confidence. Many people are secretly insecure and need constant approval. Other people lack a conscience and use their charisma to take advantage of people. They do not care how they hurt people, even those who love and care about them, because they are incapable of feeling any emotions other than anger and hate. They are like trained monkeys coloring a picture. It is coming from the outside. Just as the monkeys will never develop the ability to appreciate art, these sick individuals are all about themselves, and they will never understand what others feel.”

  Mikro was preparing a speech. “Come to bed. It’s late,” said Andras, her husband. “You have had a long day and worked so hard.”

  “All my days are long,” Mikro said. “I always work hard. This is such an important decision. The people are being tricked into making a serious mistake.”

  “I know, and I’m worried too. But in the end, they will realize that you have cared about the villagers for many years. They’ll see that Orgizo is a con man just out for himself.”

  “I sure hope so,” Mikro agreed.

  “Come here.” Andras turned to kiss Mikro, but she was already fast asleep.

  Since Mikro was asleep, Andras decided to go for a walk to his favorite park. When he arrived, he saw a woman in a dark blue dress in the distance. “Hey,” he yelled to get her attention.

  “Hi, Andras,” she said. They began a conversation and soon found themselves holding hands and walking to her home. “Do you want a drink?” the woman asked, as they went inside. She made his favorite, a snakebite, which includes an equal mix of hard cider and lager beer. After a few drinks, the couple became amorous without even bothering to get undressed. They kissed each other on the mouths and various other body parts.

  “Can you stay the night?” she encouraged him.

  “No, I have to go,” Andras said. “I need to be home when my wife wakes in the morning.” They kissed passionately for a few minutes, and then he left.

  When she was undressing for bed, the woman noticed a wet spot on her dress. I will wash it in the morning, she thought.

  CHAPTER 5

  On his way home, Andras met Ahavah wandering in the park. “Hi, what are you doing out so late tonight?” Andras asked.

  “Pandora asked me to leave. We have been fighting ever since that dinner Orgizo made. She just does not seem to be the same person. It’s as though she’s been drugged.”

  “He has been causing a lot of conflict in the village,” Andras agreed.

  “Yes, but don’t worry. I have no doubt that Mikro will win and become our first female king. I will certainly vote for your wife.”

  “Thank you, Ahavah. A lot of people have told me that, but it’s frightening how much hatred Orgizo is spreading.”

  “I know.” Ahavah sighed. “My marriage was good before he came along. He frightens me. I’m going to stay with my brother for a few days and hope Pandora cools down.”

  “Good luck,” Andras said. Then he walked home and cuddled up with Mikro. Her skin was soft and she smelled of flowers. Thinking about the changes in the village, Andras reassured himself that most people would make a rational decision regarding their next king. Eventually he fell into a restless sleep.

  The next morning, Mikro continued writing her speech. She worked long and hard, making sure it was perfect and expressed her thoughts and skills. When she was finished, she asked her husband, Noimon, and Gynaika to check it and give her their feedback.

  “It’s good here,” Noimon said about a particular passage.

  “But this needs to be rewritten,” Gynaika suggested, pointing to a rough spot.

  “I think it’s perfect. You are an amazing woman and an amazing wife,” Andras said.

  “You aren’t objective. Go away,” Mikro told her husband good-naturedly.

  The group of friends bantered back and forth, modifying the speech until it was perfect.

  Meanwhile, Orgizo was on the mountain playing golf with Despotis. “Don’t you think you should be preparing your speech?” Despotis asked.

  “No, that isn’t necessary. I have a very good brain, and I’ve already memorized what I’m going to say.”

  Despotis looked puzzled.

  “Yes, I can remember it all. I don’t even need to write it down. Just wait, you’ll see. It will be amazing … Look at that shot! Hand me another ball.”

  Speech day arrived and everyone was excited.

  Orgizo spoke first. “I am Orgizo. I am the best and the richest. I will make Achoo great again. Believe me. I will get rid of all the problems in this valley. I will give everyone who supports me Trupperware. I will send the dark-skinned and crazy-hat people out of the valley, and then I will build a wall to prevent them from ever coming back in again. I will make Achoo safe, and I will make it great again. I have a good brain and I am a smart person. Believe me—after I unify the people of Achoo in color and belief, there will be nothing I cannot do. No task is too great. No dream is too large. No goal is beyond my reach. I am the only one who can do this. Don’t vote for crooked Mikro, who can’t be trusted. So sad. You can trust me bigly. Vote for me. Believe me. I will make Achoo great again!”

  The Truppers cheered, yelled, and clapped. This was their man, the future king of Achoo. He would build a wall and make Achoo great again. They believed him.

  Noimon was up next, to give a speech supporting Mikro. “Thank you, everyone. I want to be clear. This contest is not about Mikro or me or Orgizo. This contest is about giving the people of Achoo the best king that they have ever had. People in the village are struggling to make a living and feed their children, while the families living in the mountains wear silk, sit in golden chairs, and store their food in Trupperware. The people in the village do not store our food, because we barely have enough to fill our stomachs from day to day. We struggle, while the 1 percent live in luxury and profit from our hard work. We need a king who understands the real problems
of the people and who can offer solutions. Not swaggering bravado, not fearmongering, not name-calling and division. We need leadership in Achoo that will improve the lives of everyone who lives here, no matter their color or beliefs. We need a caring king who brings us together and makes us stronger.

  “Mikro understands that we all need to work together to provide the best possible lives for everyone. Mikro understands that the cooking fire is too close to our homes, and that breathing smoke every day is making people sick. She has a plan to move the cooking fire downwind of the village. I have known Mikro all my life, and I know she will be there for the people, cooking dinner and providing compassionate care when there is a loss in a family. Mikro will work to move the river beavers who have been flooding our homes with their dams. Mikro will make sure that all children get an education and learn to read and write. Mikro supports health care for all, and she will help Dr. Grigoros train more healers. Mikro understands that our young people need support and training for their work.