The Fall of Chance

by McGowan, Terry

  He found some clothes and a towel and made sure the Wizard was properly dry before he put them on. He recoiled a bit when he had to go near the top of another man’s legs but he gritted his teeth and blasted through it. Dressing him was difficult but at least the Wizard didn’t struggle. He didn’t even complain, which was worrying.

  “I’ll draw you a bath,” Unt said loudly. The Wizard owned a deep, metal bath. They used it rarely because it took so long to fill and it normally lived outside.

  “I’m not deaf,” said the old man.

  “Just keep talking,” said Unt, wanting to keep him awake. He hurriedly made a fire.

  “I must be in the shit if you want me to do that,” coughed the Wizard.

  When Unt had got the fire burning he drew water from the butt outside and put it on to boil. He then went for the bath and dragged the heavy thing inside, putting it by the fire.

  “Don’t waste your time with that,” said the Wizard. “Just bring me some tea and I’ll be all right in a while.”

  Unt doubted that but said,” When the water’s boiled, I’ll put some aside in a mug.”

  “Make it an herbal one,” said the Wizard.

  “Tell me what to put in, then.”

  Unt listened patiently as the Wizard directed him around the stores. He dragged his heels, letting time for the water to boil while the Wizard was distracted.

  When he’d gathered the ingredients into a muslin bag, the water was coming to the boil. He dunked the herbal bomb in a mug of water and left it to brew while he put the remaining water in the bath. He then put more on to boil.

  He took the mug over to the Wizard and held it as he drank. The Wizard sipped greedily. He didn’t even bother to push away Unt’s assistance. “Ah, that’s the ticket,” he said.

  “I’ll put some in your bath,” said Unt.

  “And brew me up like a great pot of this stuff? Why are you trying to get me wet anyhow? Being wet’s my problem.”

  “Being cold’s your problem,” said Unt. “There’s nothing that will put the heat back in you like a hot bath.”

  “That’s your medical opinion, is it?”

  “Just common sense.”

  “A contradiction in terms if ever there was,” the Wizard sulked.

  It took four batches to make enough water to fill a bath and by the time the last was finished, the water at the bottom had been cooling for twenty minutes. All together, it was nice and hot but not scorching.

  “Here, let’s get you in,” he said and went to undress the Wizard.

  “Make your mind up, do you want me dressed or undressed?” muttered the Wizard. He assisted Unt this time but his fingers were shaking. Unt helped him get in and he sank up to his shoulders.

  “Bring me that tea, lad,” he sighed and Unt obliged. As he picked up the mug, beside it was the Wizard’s hat with its massive horns. He looked back at the old man and saw that he really was an old man. He looked a lesser creature without his horns.

  * * * *

  Unt got the Wizard dry after his bath and put him to bed. An earthenware bottle filled with hot water was placed below his feet and would keep him warm through the night.

  Unt stayed up for hours after, watching the Wizard from the fireplace. When he finally got too tired to stay up any longer, he rolled out his own bed in front of the fire and went to sleep.

  At one point during the night, he woke and went over to check on his patient. He had only a candle for light and had to lean in close for a look. He was alarmed to see the Wizard’s skin looked grey. He touched him and the flesh was cold.

  Horrified, he thought he was dead. He shook the old man in panic, desperate for a reaction. The Wizard stirred weakly and Unt sighed relief but his condition was far from good.

  The Wizard went back to sleep unprotesting and Unt tried to sleep too. From time to time, he would nod off but it didn’t last. His mind wouldn’t let him sleep too deeply. He worried that if he did, the Wizard might slip away in the night.

  Morning came with no signs of improvement. The Wizard couldn’t get out of bed and needed Unt for everything. As the day went on, he had to do latrine duty which was unpleasant and then he had to feed him too. By the day’s end, the Wizard had made no progress and had barely even spoken.

  * * * *

  That day became the template for many days to follow. It fell to Unt to not only nurse the Wizard but to tend to the camp itself. All the jobs that they had shared between them were suddenly his responsibility and he had to be a full-time carer too. The short days didn’t help either. Unt had a very small window in which he could get any work done outside.

  The Wizard was an insufferable patient. He complained about the food, he complained about the temperature and he quizzed Unt constantly on what he was doing. Whenever Unt told him, he would say it was the wrong thing or that Unt was doing it wrong. If he couldn’t find an obvious fault at the first time of asking he would drill down into the smallest detail until he could find something to pick on.

  Justifying his work methods tired Unt more than the work itself. He’d wanted to avoid being a Medic and this was why. Unt had no patience for a bad patient, even one he was close to and the Wizard was the worst.

  He snapped one evening when he was feeding the Wizard some broth. The Wizard had just told him not to bother and had pushed away the spoon.

  “You’ve got to eat,” Unt told him.

  “What for? I’m dying.”

  “Course you’re not.”

  “Yes I am. I’m useless. I need you to come and feed me like a baby.”

  “We all get sick,” said Unt.

  “But not everyone recovers,” said the Wizard, “And I’m not going to.”

  “Why not? I was weaker than you are when you saved me.”

  “And I did a better job of looking after you than you’re doing for me. A better job of the camp too. Look at that firewood: there’s barely a log left and what there is is green or has damp in it.”

  “Well if you don’t like the way I do things, you’d better get well again. Then you can do stuff how you want.” Unt slammed the bowl down and left the Wizard to the food he couldn’t reach. He would have stormed out but there was nowhere to go so he had to settle for crossing the room and sitting in silence. It wasn’t the grand gesture he might have hoped for but he could feel its effect. The Wizard was sat morosely, brooding over Unt’s words.

  * * * *

  That night, he awoke and the Wizard wasn’t there. He looked around the cabin desperately and then he heard a noise outside. It was a muffled-sounding tap. A couple of seconds later, it was repeated.

  Putting on his coat, he went outside to investigate. There, at the other end of the camp, was the Wizard. He’d gone out with a torch and stuck it in a holder and that light now lit him up.

  The Wizard had dressed himself in his old clothes and was busy chopping firewood. Somewhere, from his reserves of strength, a man who’d been unable to lift a spoon that evening was now wielding an axe with both arms.

  Unt hurried over. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  “What does it look like?” The Wizard swung another blow.

  “Fate’s sake, stop!” Unt put out a hand toward the axe. The Wizard looked like he would hit him with it.

  “You’re the one who said that if I didn’t like things I should do them myself.”

  “After you got well, I said.”

  “That’s weak talk,” said the Wizard, “I never got sick before I met you.”

  “I didn’t make you sick,” said Unt.

  “I should never have picked up your worthless carcass.” The Wizard was unlistening. “The first rule of foraging is never pick up what the carrion won’t touch.”

  “You’re making yourself worse,” Unt tried.

  “Sickness doesn’t get you ‘til you let it,” said the Wizard. “The way to beat it’s by not giving in.”

  “You’re going to kill yourself,” said Unt.

  “I�
��ll die if I don’t do something.” The Wizard buried his axe in another bit of wood. It buried so deep that the head stuck in the chopping block.

  “Look, maybe you’re right,” said Unt, “but now isn’t the time. You wouldn’t be chopping wood at night when you were healthy so why the hell would you do it now?”

  The Wizard struggled to free the axe but he was listening.

  “Just come to bed for now,” said Unt. “In the morning, you can decide what you want to do and get yourself back into work.”

  The Wizard gave up on the axe and followed Unt back into the cabin.

  * * * *

  The next morning, the Wizard didn’t go back to work. He didn’t even get up. Whatever reserves had given him the strength to do what he did had expired. He was back to his old self. If anything, it was worse. Unt was torn between relief that he’d stopped him before he could do himself more damage and guilt with the idea that maybe the Wizard had been right. Maybe he should have let him continue. He was, after all, a law unto himself.

  Intellectually, he knew his doubts were nonsense. There was no way a man that ill should have stayed out in the night of winter. If Unt hadn’t woken last night he’d have gotten up in the morning and found his body surrounded by firewood. But doubt is often illogical and it had Unt firmly in its grip.

  The fire in the cabin raged day and night. Ash was building up in the grate at the bottom of the barrel but Unt was loath to let it go out, even for an hour. The Wizard shivered more and more and Unt feared that he was fading fast.

  The heat was so intense that Unt would go and stand outside just to escape it. He’d got beyond the point of needing to explain what he was doing. The Wizard didn’t care. All the energy he could muster went into flinging vocal barbs at Unt. Unt no longer heard them, they were just noise. There was no longer a thinking mind behind them.

  He was shocked then when he went in one day and found the Wizard on his feet, shuffling across the room. In his grey underclothes he looked like a ghost.

  When he heard Unt enter he looked like a child that had been caught red-handed. At first Unt thought it was because he’d caught him out of bed but when he looked in his hand he saw a book. It was the red volume. Unt looked at the direction the Wizard was facing and saw he was headed toward the fire. He recognised instantly that the old man intended to burn it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, sternly.

  “None of your business.”

  “You’re not going to burn it.”

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave it for you to pour over my thoughts when I’m dead and gone.”

  “I couldn’t care less what you’ve written down,” said Unt.

  “Exactly,” said the Wizard. “What interest am I to anyone except someone to be laughed at? You don’t care about me. You’re only looking after yourself.”

  “No I’m not,” said Unt. “And even if I were, haven’t you been telling me all along that I should do just that?”

  “Since when did you ever listen to a word I’ve said? You just want what’s in this camp.”

  “I couldn’t care less about all your junk. If that was all I was after I’d just take it, wouldn’t I?”

  “Yes you could,” said the Wizard. “And that’s why I’m going to stop you getting this right now!” He brandished the book and took a step toward the fire.

  “Wait!” said Unt. “You told me you kept that to preserve the man that you’d been. If you throw it on the fire you’re wiping yourself out of existence.”

  “Only the worthless half,” said the Wizard, “The half no-one ever gave a damn about. The useful half - the bit I should have focussed on - is still on the shelf there. You’re welcome to keep it but this book here must die before I do.”

  “No!” shouted Unt and went to grab the Wizard’s arm. Too late, the Wizard got his throw off and the book landed on top of the fire.

  The barrel was so full of ashes that the book landed near the top. The fire had died down and if he was quick, Unt could save it before it caught light.

  He went to snatch it out of the fire but the Wizard grabbed him with startling speed. “Let go!” he snapped but the Wizard snarled and fought at him with miraculous strength.

  “If you do this now you can’t undo it,” grunted Unt as they wrestled.

  “That’s my choice to make. If you were ever my friend, you’ll let me do it.”

  “Being your friend’s the only reason I won’t,” said Unt.

  With arms pushing each other up and wide, the two men cartwheeled across the cabin in a strange kind of dance. Unt couldn’t believe the Wizard’s force. Every time he thought he was gone, he found some more energy but this final surge was dying at last.

  Unt guided the struggle over to the bed and let the Wizard drop. The old man’s fight sank into the piles of fur. He started to weep. Unt looked round at a cracking noise from the fire. He was too late: the fire had taken hold of the book now.

  Unt stood over the pathetic creature, the fury welling up inside him. He could crush him like an egg right now. He could pick up that lantern beside the bed and smash his brains in. Nobody would ever know and the old man would be out of his misery instead of stuck in this pitiful, drawn-out decline. At that moment, Unt hated him.

  The moment passed. The temptation went away but the possibility of it arising again went unresolved. Unt didn’t so much wonder at the rage that had put him there, he wondered what had staid his hand.

  He would have liked to think it was innate decency. He knew it wasn’t fear. He wasn’t outraged either. No, what he felt was like what he’d said about burning the book: once something was done, it couldn’t be undone, so why risk regret? A horrible, callous part of him said the old man would be dead soon so it was just as easy to let things run their course. He couldn’t feel guilty about that.

  He pulled the covers over the Wizard and went back outside.

  22. Departure

  The day after the argument, a strained civility took over the compound. It was an unwelcome guest, one only endured because all knew that it wouldn’t be staying long. Both men recognised that they had reached an impasse, a point from which their relationship could never recover.

  If it weren’t for the Wizard’s illness, it would have been Unt who departed. Instead, it would soon be the Wizard who was leaving. The only thing keeping them together was the Wizard’s sickness. Loners though they both were, there was a common bond, true of all people, that made it unthinkable for Unt to turn from a dying man.

  It was ironic that the thing keeping them together was also the trigger for their divide. Not that it was the real reason for their fracture, it was just what had brought underlying matters to a head. Unt now realised that they had always been doomed to part and most likely on ill terms too. The Wizard had been too steeped in his own self, too easy to take offence to ever have a lasting friendship. Unt had long grown weary of walking on eggshells. He realised that the only thing that had kept him here was a lack of anywhere else to go.

  It was something he would have to address soon though. The Wizard was dying, there was no doubt in either of their minds. Neither spoke of it but death lurked in the shadows made by the ever-roaring fire.

  * * * *

  Unt was darning clothes outside the door to the cabin. The door was left open a crack so he could hear the Wizard and now he heard him calling.

  “Unt, get in here!” he shouted.

  Unt got to his feet and went inside to see what he wanted now.

  “It’s too warm in here,” said the Wizard.

  In his whole illness, the Wizard had never claimed it was too warm. Unt hoped he wasn’t gearing up for one of his old fights. “I can’t just make the fire go out, can I?” he answered wearily.

  The Wizard’s smile was oddly gentle. “I know that, son. Just let it die.”

  “How can it be too warm? You’ve wanted that fire raging all month,” said Unt.

  The Wizard smiled a second time. That m
ade some kind of record. “I know,” he said, “but I’m really feeling all right just now.”

  Unt put his hand on the Wizard’s forehead. It actually didn’t feel too bad. He went to get the thermometer. He hadn’t known what one was when he was brought here but now he knew it intimately. He put it in the Wizard’s ear and was surprised when it showed close to normal.

  “How is it?” asked the Wizard.

  “Good,” said Unt.

  “Surprised, eh? You’ll learn.”

  “I guess I will.”

  The Wizard shifted himself so he sat high up in bed. “Do me a favour, lad. Go out to the meat locker and get out two of the best venison steaks.”

  “Steaks? Are you up to that?”

  “I know, I haven’t been up to anything for a long while, but right now I’ve got me a hankering for a good bit of grub.”

  “All right,” said Unt and did as he was asked. “They’re frozen stiff,” he commented when he came back.

  “Thought so,” said the Wizard. “Just lay them on the side there and you can cook ‘em later.”

  When that was done, Unt came back and found the Wizard had perched himself on the side of the bed. “What were you doing when I called you in?” he asked Unt.

  “Darning.”

  “Well, scratch it for this afternoon.”

  “Scratch it?”

  “Yes, take the day off.” The Wizard had never said to take a day off before. The old man wheezed with laughter. “Yep, you heard me. You’re going to sit there and tell me what’s going on out there. Tell me what you’ve been up to, what projects you’ve got planned and what sort of state you’ve got my yard in.

  “I’ve been out of things too long. Stuck in here, day after day, the mind wanders. I’ve no idea what’s going on and what our situation is. So, I want you to humour me, take the day off and fill me in.”