However you’ll get nothing but the cold shoulder from the upper class witches on Crypt Island. They aren’t even going to sick their flaming whale on you. Because you aren’t even worth it! That was the general gist of Crypt Island as far as I could tell. Although it was frankly hard to tell because the cold shoulder was so pronounced that it was difficult to tell if it was even being applied. Am I being ignored or not here?
It was very hard to tell because the rulers of this world were not even acknowledging us with an insult. Maybe we had snuck in under the radar of that flaming whale. As always what to do next when faced with these incessant challenges of an indeterminate nature?
I suppose I was beginning to understand why Professor Coffin enjoyed his tumblers of rum. Witchcraft was deeply troubling. Why not enjoy a hearty snoot and then try to fathom the murk? Or just black it out on the demon rum. Take off all your clothes and skinny dip with the primordial sharks. Let’s just end this whole farce with a snap from a barnacle covered apocalyptic.
Crypt Island was made entirely out of glass. It distracted the mind a bit. There was a city on the shore that looked like Old Havana in glass! It was constructed entirely out of blown glass. I shuddered when I thought of the enormity of the lungs that had blown it. We’ll always have Old Havana in glass. Somebody shoot me.
Perhaps there was a giant hunkered down around here somewhere with a set of dastardly pipes. Perhaps he was just slaving over his hideous furnace. Perhaps the giant is too occupied throwing humans into his furnace. That giant will be with us shortly. Then it’s lights out for you. Sizzle, pop, Booster Boo.
I hoped that the hideous giant had died a quiet death of exhaustion. He had expired somewhere out in the wasteland and then the carrion birds had then taken over. It would explain the lack of population, I suppose. The giant had stomped everyone to death. Or he had simply just eaten them. Then the murderous giant had hurled his overworked person into the ocean. But where were the bones? Had the flaming whale devoured them? Perhaps the sharks of the apocalypse feasted on bones.
There had to be a plausible explanation for Crypt Island. Perhaps the flaming whale was also terrestrial. However that panic had to be shelved. There were more pressing matters for the overworked mind to panic over.
Old Havana in glass was chief among them. It had an appalling shudder factor. It kept that overworked mind busy. The point of blowing an entire city out of glass seemed to be to blow your mind. I worked that out. It worked too. Old Havana in glass was mind blowing.
It was a hand blown chandelier that had been expanded into a metropolis. Why not? If you’re going to replicate Old Havana in glass, you might as well take a few artistic liberties. Blow that glass pipe big or go home. Chase that dragon all the way to his crystal cavern.
Is that heavy cut crystal too? Why not spice it up a bit in Old Havana in glass? We don’t mind a little classic crystal too especially if it takes the form of skyscrapers. Why not make that classic crystal touch the heavens? You want to make those savages that darken your doorstep shudder.
We were shuddering in stereo. Old Havana in glass just peep it. It was horrific. But it was also wildly beautiful. It was definitely a magic trick of sorts. Perhaps it was a practical joke too. It was some sort of high level trickery. Why not prank these witches a bit from the lower school. Show off with our magic act.
Put that white rabbit back in that hat. Stop sawing the lady in half. And don’t throw knives at me while I’m strapped to The Wheel of Death because I know you’re thinking about that too. I’m going to permit you to chain me and dump me over the falls in a barrel because I’m going to escape from this test. Bring it on, witchcraft.
Chapter
You couldn’t quite place your emotional response to Old Havana in glass. Should you shatter this abomination? Or move it into a museum? Perhaps construct a dome over it? Then snake an appalling rollercoaster through all the blown glass. Crank out a few loops through that city of glass.
An amusement park of the absurd seemed like a pretty plausible solution. Unfortunately there was already one constructed. I can’t say that I was looking forward to stepping on a glass rollercoaster. The fact that someone had the audacity to snake a rollercoaster through Old Havana in glass was particularly disturbing. What sort of madman does something like that just for openers? Tacks a sign right over the entrance that says The Rollercoaster of The Absurd? That’s not nice.
Step right up and climb aboard, The Old Havana in glass Rollercoaster of The Absurd! Hop on board. We’re going to loop through this delicate city of glass at terrifying speed. We might lose a couple of customers. Or just jump the track and crash into a spire of glass. Wipe out the entire ride.
Don’t let the fact that Old Havana in glass is totally devoid of carnival freaks trouble you. You’re the carnival freak, you see? We’ve built this city of glass so we can observe you. There is nowhere to hide in a world constructed entirely out of glass. That seemed to be one of the selling points. You have absolutely no place to hide in a world of glass.
Crypt Island made Coffin Island seem downright civilized. Presumably not all the wombats could peer at you at you at the same time on Coffin Island. Here it was no problem. Everything was glass. Privacy as a concept didn’t even exist on Crypt Island. What was there to be private about?
Crypt Island was devoid of population. What is the possible meaning of an artistic city with a declared Rollercoaster of The Absurd that is totally empty? Was there a message in this bottle? Was this a message in the bottle city? Why not? Witchcraft demands something this horrible. However how do you decipher the note if there isn’t even a note? Perhaps we weren’t note worthy. Or more likely we were the note.
There seemed to be some sort of artistic play here. An empty city of glass was some sort of object of art. It was merely blown up to the metropolis level. Perhaps the flaming whale was the keeper of the gallery. Perhaps we were meant to stand at gallery distance in silence and ponder this delicate city of glass with the Rollercoaster of The Absurd. And we were doing it. Are you satisfied witchcraft?
That’s all I planned to do. Let the artist come out of Old Havana in glass and explain this fascinating city of glass with the Rollercoaster of The Absurd which was running right through it. I wasn’t going to criticize his work. That’s for sure.
“Welcome to Old Havana in glass,” I said. “I’ll be your tour guide for Crypt Island.”
“You owe me,” Madison snorted. “Seeing as I took you on such a fabulous tour of Coffin Island.”
“How do you like the tour so far?” I asked.
Madison was just as dumbfounded as me.
“It’s strikingly beautiful,” Madison laughed.
“The colors are incredible,” I agreed.
“It’s a trick of the eye,” Madison said.
“Only it isn’t an illusion,” I said.
“It’s a hallucination,” Madison said.
“But it’s real,” I said.
“Which makes it even worse,” Madison said.
“You think it’s a trap?” I asked.
“There is no question,” Madison said.
“We don’t get on The Rollercoaster of The Absurd?” I asked.
“Absolutely not,” Madison said.
“You’re probably right,” I said.
“It’s designed to lure us in,” Madison said.
“There is also the hint of cigar smoke everywhere,” I said.
“It’s like catnip for me,” Madison sniffed.
“This is probably where the cigars come from,” I said.
“I certainly hope so,” Madison said. “I’d prefer to die smoking even if it’s a trap.”
“Can you call down a cigar?” I asked.
“I don’t have any powers in this world,” Madison sighed. “What about you?”
“I can’t teleport out of here,” I said. “I’ve already tried.”
“I thought you were holding my hand because you were scared,” Madison said.
/>
“There was that too,” I admitted.
“Welcome to witchcraft’s third world, Headmaster Booster,” Madison snorted.
“Where we are powerless,” I said.
“Everything is made out of glass,” Madison.
“And worst of all,” I said. “Some upper class witches that don’t give a hoot are in-charge.”
“Where are they?” Madison asked.
“I think the flaming whale ate them,” I said.
“The planet Jupiter hints at it,” Madison snorted.
“I’m afraid to move,” I said. “What about you?”
“I feel like a rabbit that is terrified to move,” Madison said.
“We’re wombats in this world,” I said.
“I don’t even feel cruel,” Madison said.
“I’m not feeling too confident myself,” I said.
“I feel weak,” Madison said.
“That feeling that we’re feeling,” I said.
“It’s feeling human,” Madison said.
“It feels terrible,” I said.
“I plan to take it up with whatever is ruling this world,” Madison laughed.
“I’m sure that they will take a human interest,” I said.
“Damn ingenious if you ask me,” Professor Coffin said while reclining on the deck of Doctor Fast. He was taking a sunbath in his ancient drawers. “The blasted upper class witches have thought of everything. They must have been stealing our rum bottles for centuries. What a charming city of glass. I wish I had thought of it. What an ingenious use of our trash.”
“I thought I told you to throw him over the side to the sharks,” I said.
“I was too busy screaming during the storm,” Madison said. “There was that whole planet Jupiter situation and then the flaming whale.”
“That’s not a very good excuse for the cruelest witch in creation,” I laughed.
“I have to agree with Booster,” Professor Coffin sniffed. “Have you no pride, witch? Toss me over the side like a kindle of kittens.”
“We’re saving you for a far worse fate,” Madison said.
“Crypt Island bait,” I agreed.
“I’m feeling elderly and infirm in this human condition,” Professor Coffin said. “Toss me over the side gently to the rulers.”
“Old Havana in glass looks abandoned,” Madison said.
“Not even upper class witches want to live here,” I said.
“Or something has killed them,” Madison said.
Professor Coffin was prattling merrily about us being human witches but we were ignoring him. He had been talking almost continuously about this devolution since we had arrived on Crypt Island but Madison and I were pretending that he didn’t exist. Professor Coffin hadn’t seemed to notice. He was lecturing us on the benefits of being a hitch. Human witches were powerless but they were somehow witches nonetheless which was somehow useful in a world of glass. I wouldn’t dignify any of his nonsense.
If the rulers of this world were ignoring me then why should I pay attention to Professor Coffin? I also suspected that he was somehow in-charge of everything here. Madison and I weren’t designing our own test. That was for sure. It was either Professor Coffin or The Red Lady that was stowed below deck. There weren’t any other culprits. Except for perhaps the creature below deck but he was a late arrival and not a suspect. He was a red herring that needed to be ignored.
Chapter
I was also quite occupied with working through my Fear. It was so big that it required capital letters. I was afraid that it might increase in hideous size if I didn’t give it the proper respect. It was capital Fear. It was really getting the best of me too like all great panic attacks of a nonintellectual nature.
It was animalistic in nature. Everything was telling me to run which was why I refused to do it. Witchcraft was trying to manipulate me. Dashing into Old Havana in glass was the quickest way to get killed. I just knew it. The Rollercoaster of The Absurd hinted at it too. You don’t get on a glass rollercoaster in a glass city. You just don’t do that in the land of witchcraft if you want to live.
I understood how the wombats felt in the Great Hall on Coffin Island. Movement was death. Sitting in the mousetrap was life. Everything was upside down again. What an alienating affront this particular trap was thought. It was a beautiful object of art but it was out to kill you. But why would some creature build a trap like this?
Was witchcraft trying to demonstrate some uncomfortable truth by having us exchange places with the dreaded magical creatures of the previous world, the wombats? What could be the meaning of making us so weak and powerless? We were also stuck with the unsavory task of greeting ourselves in this alienating world? Shouldn’t something other than ourselves greet ourselves in this new world that apparently did not want us?
“Crypt Island is troubling,” I said.
“Hunting us down is going to be easy now that we’re hitches,” Madison said.
“Along with no powers,” I said. “We don’t have anywhere to hide.”
“We’re terrified to move on top of it,” Madison said.
“We certainly can’t make ourselves disappear,” I said. “I’ve been willing that since we arrived here.”
“Hitches must hide,” Professor Coffin bellowed. “Humans are cowards. We must ape them. And ape them we will. Planet of monkeys is what we will do.”
“Old Havana in glass is a ghost town without any ghosts,” I said.
“Perhaps we’re supposed to haunt it,” Madison said.
“That sounds scary to me,” Professor Coffin said.
“Why did they build it in the first place?” Madison asked.
“Perhaps we’ll haunt it in the sequel,” Professor Coffin said.
“Return to the old haunt?” Madison asked.
“Isn’t once enough,” Professor Coffin puffed.
“Why did they abandon it?” I asked.
“Shouldn’t you fill your Old Havana in glass with something other than emptiness?” Madison asked.
“Does nothingness count for anything at all?” Professor Coffin asked.
“Is this a cursed city of glass?” Madison asked.
“Or is this a benign magical hallucination to quietly tiptoe around like a prowler in the night?” Professor Coffin asked.
“What sort of haunt are we looking at, gentlemen?” Madison asked.
“We’re too terrified to move now that we are humans,” I said.
“It feels like we have invisible chains anchoring us here to the shore too,” Madison said.
The shackles had disappeared. If they’re going to be magical shackles then they might as well disappear at some point.
“That’s just the invisible leash,” Professor Coffin explained. “You’ll get used to that. You’ll miss it when it is gone. Savor that invisible leash.”
“What do you want to do when the upper class witches come for us?” I asked.
“Do you think that they even exist?” Madison asked.
“Actually I don’t,” I said. “I just don’t know what to call what is coming for us.”
“No Thing is coming for us,” Professor Coffin declared. “No Thing is very scary. You don’t fool with No Thing because he is no thing.”
“What do you want to do about No Thing?” I asked.
“I’m powerless and terrified,” Madison laughed. “I’m somehow chained to this spot with an invisible leash. But I’m not giving up without a bloody battle.”
“You can fight No Thing bare knuckled,” Professor Coffin suggested.
Professor Coffin demonstrated some of his old fashioned boxing techniques.
“I used to spare with a lady kangaroo,” Professor Coffin said. “She had a baby in her pouch. That Joey had a wonderful right hook.”
“Professor Coffin,” Madison snorted. “Stop joshing us.”
“It’s true,” Professor Coffin said. “The female kangaroo is called a flyer because they hit below the belt.”
I tugged on my invisible leash.
“I can’t believe that I am powerless too,” I said. “I was just getting used to all that power.”
“Ye’ olden magical powers,” Professor Coffin winked. “It’s quite the lovely nipple to tipple if the old hag lets you.”
“You feast on that dry nipple,” Madison snorted. “Yuck.”
“You drink that sour milk,” Professor Coffin agreed.
“I didn’t even get a chance to abuse the power,” I said.
“It’s been centuries since I’ve been human,” Madison said. “I’m horrifically terrified.”
“That terror is perfectly normal,” Professor Coffin said.
“Can we get off the ship?” Madison asked.
“Of course,” Professor Coffin said.
“This is our first test?” I asked.
“What else could it be?” Professor Coffin asked.
“How exactly do you hitch in this magical world?” I asked.
“You just bumble around in a drunken stupor like anywhere else,” Professor Coffin said.
“We can ride the glass rollercoaster when The No Thing comes for us,” I said.
“That’s how it will come,” Professor Coffin confirmed.
“I’m sure the test here is completely weird,” Madison said.
“We sit for this test,” I said.
“Perhaps you should hide in Old Havana in glass,” Professor Coffin suggested. “No Thing will come and get you.”
“Nice try, guy,” Madison snorted.
“I think we’ll just sit on the shore,” I said.
“Let witchcraft come for us,” Madison said.
“I wonder what’s in the glass coconuts,” Professor Coffin said as he looked down the shimmering coastline. “I have a hankering for a coconut and rum. My blood is getting a bit too thin for my taste. The tropics demand a toot.”
“We should put him ashore first,” I said.
“I don’t see why not,” Madison said.
“We see what happens to him,” I said. “Then we decide if we want to step ashore in this world of glass.”
“Are you ready to be No Thing bait, Professor Coffin?” Madison asked.
Coffin Island Page 10