Modern Merlin

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Modern Merlin Page 2

by Jason Paul Rice


  There wasn’t a series of pictures this time.

  Only

  One

  Still

  Frame

  That red-stained mouth.

  Those teeth.

  What were those red stains?

  Mike forced his eyes open and stumbled back into the kitchenette, grabbing a rolled joint off the counter and tucking it behind his ear. He finished the floater on the counter and tried to chase away the nasty image. The young man couldn’t wait to talk to Kyle about last night.

  Mike Merlino struggled to quietly open the dilapidated door to his humble abode. He got frustrated and had to kick it open. He stepped out into the searing heat after, all in all, a typical start to the day. Throwing on an old pair of black sunglasses, he walked toward the woods behind his apartment.

  “Whoa, slow down there, sailor,” a soothing, yet high-pitched female voice rang in his ears.

  “Sailor? What the?” Mike stopped near the tree line and turned around. He rubbed his eyes under his scratched lenses.

  A female dwarf who looked like a strange Disney princess stood in front of Mike’s apartment. A sparkling purple dress hugged her thick curves and tapered out around her hips. The bottom of the dress skimmed the ground as she took a few steps closer. Fierce blue eyes studied Mike like a student preparing for a final exam.

  She emitted an aura of enchantment and seemed to have been dipped in stardust. The woman had long, thick braids that alternated from platinum blond to black and hung to her midsection. They looked like ornately chiseled columns of ivory and obsidian.

  She spoke in an English accent. “Sorry, just a figure of speech. I need to talk to you.”

  Mike scanned the area. “I must be seein’ stuff. What did I do last night?”

  Her angelic voice rang out. “I could tell you all about it. I’m here to help you.”

  Mike lowered his voice. “If you want to help, you would shut the hell up so you don’t wake that girl up in my place.”

  She peeked over her shoulder toward Mike’s apartment. “Don’t worry about her. She is still snoring. I can hear her from here.”

  Mike tried to shake his head and shed the confusion, but the fair fleshed dwarf with rosy red cheeks and pointed ears remained in front of him. When that didn’t work, he turned and entered the woods, swatting some branches of a big bush to the side. He walked about twenty feet, pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, and spun around to face her.

  The dwarf scurried around the wide trunk of an oak tree, her heels sounding like pounding horse hooves as she approached Mike.

  A smile that would’ve warmed the heart of a murderer spread across the woman’s glistening purple lips. She didn’t have wrinkles but her calming face resembled that of a loving grandmother. The sun strained its golden rays to poke through the camouflaged canopy above, adding an argent shine to her flesh.

  “Stop right there, you weirdo. What do you want from me?” Mike asked.

  She stopped creeping closer. “I want to help you. My appearance may be strange, but that doesn’t change the fact that you have greatness within you. I’ve been sent to bring it out.”

  Mike chuckled, unamused. “You seen my place back there, didn’t you? The only thing I’m headed for is an unmarked grave. Save your spit lady, or whatever you are.” Mike turned around and started walking away again.

  Without slowing down, he grabbed the joint from behind his ear and put the skinny end between his lips, then patted his pockets for a lighter or matches. “Damn it.”

  He didn’t want to go back to his apartment and risk waking up the girl, but his bones were really hurting. They needed their medicine. He doubled back.

  The dwarf held her right hand high with her index finger extended. She closed her eyes and blew a stream of pink dust from her mouth that danced in the air before rushing to her extended fingertip.

  The pink glow turned blue, then red, before a steady orange flame sprouted from her fingertip. She looked like a miniature Statue of Liberty as she opened her eyes. “Need a light?”

  Mike took seven skeptical steps toward her and leaned down with the joint in his mouth. The dwarf lowered her finger gradually, forcing Mike to lean down lower. He stood up in disgust and ripped the joint from his mouth. “Come on. Quit playin’ with me.”

  The woman’s low-pitched, snickering laugh finally died out, and she put on a serious face. “You’re right. I know you need it for those aching bones.”

  Mike leaned in and she allowed him to light the joint. He noticed tattoos on the backs of her hands. One said FAB, and the other said FOUR. He cocked his head to the side. “How the hell you know that anyhow?”

  She blew out the flame and held the same index finger over her lips, touching the bottom of her nose. “I know everything.”

  Mike’s eyes widened as he tried to figure out if this was real. “I still don’t know what the hell you are, but thanks for the light.”

  She said, “I’m Alayna. I’m a faerie. Sent to awaken your blood.”

  It was quickly shaping up to be one of the strangest mornings ever as Mike’s pocket buzzed. He pulled out his phone and smirked. The call was coming from the Prince’s Mountain Police.

  Mike shook his head and slid the phone back into his pocket. He extended the joint, pinched between his middle finger and thumb, toward Alayna.

  She held up an open hand. “No, thank you, kind sir. That’s all you. Alright, have you heard of Merlin the Wizard?”

  Mike thought for a while. “Is he the one from them movies about the midge...I mean, about them people like you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Those are hobbits. And his name was Gandalf. Hmm, let’s try this. Have you heard of King Arthur?”

  Mike closed his right eye and concentrated. “I thought it was a queen that was in charge of England right now. Real old, too. She die or somethin’?”

  Alayna shook her head slowly, and her long braids slithered back and forth. “I was hoping you were just making colorful use of the vernacular. I’m having my lawyer file a labor complaint as soon as I get back home. I made one request. No stupid people. Too much to ask, it should seem.”

  She stopped ranting and apologetically peered into Mike’s blue eyes. “Sorry about that.”

  Mike hit the burning roach and spoke in a high-pitched voice as smoke poured from his mouth. “Sorry ‘bout what?”

  The dwarf looked up to the sky as the sunlight faded. “Well screw me sideways.”

  “Screw me,” Mike said and laughed, which sounded more like grunting.

  Alayna pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “So they gave me Beavis or Butthead, huh? I am also going to have my lawyer file a motion for retroactive time and a half. This is clearly going to be an overtime job.” She removed her hand and opened her eyes. “Okay, let’s start from scratch. Do you know what a wizard is?”

  Mike nodded. “I seen ‘em in movies, like I said. Shootin’ lightning outta their hands and putting crazy magic spells on people.”

  A glow of relief came over Alayna’s high cheek bones. “Good. Progress of any sort is good right now. Wizards are not exactly like that, but close. You are the descendant of a really famous wizard named Merlin. Some people come from long lines of proud wizard families. You do not. You come from a long line of fake wizards...but there is a silver lining.”

  The joint went out on its own, and Mike flicked it away as she continued, “Your female ancestor, quite the vixen apparently, seduced Merlin, the greatest wizard of them all. Through long convoluted research, we found out that you are the end of a long line. Since most of your ancestors didn’t carry on Merlin’s legacy, his magical bloodline was nearly forgotten. It matters not. You have prime wizard blood circulating through your system. The strongest wizard blood. It merely needs to be awakened.”

  Mike laughed until his eyes reddened. Through a lazy smile, he said, “This must be some good shit, too, ‘cause I still see you.”

  She thumbed her chin
and stopped as if a thought hit her. “By chance, have you an extremely intelligent neighbor? Mayhaps I’m at the wrong address.”

  A dopey look clung to Mike’s face. “Probably. What about all those other wizards out there? Why don’t you go get them? You’re too late for me. I’m a walking corpse, lady.”

  Mike turned and walked away. He could hear a clomping sound from behind as Alayna tracked after him in her black high heels. It didn’t make sense in the soft soil, adding to her magical aura.

  She squeaked, “All of the other wizards have died. Dark spirits abound. Searching to erase every benevolent wizard in America. You are one of the last hopes out there. What do you say?”

  Mike spit a white foamy wad from his dry mouth onto the pink flower of an Appalachian azalea. “I say you should stop wasting your time.”

  Alayna tapped her pointer finger against her temple. “What can I do to prove this? How will he believe me?” She chased after Mike, who went deeper into the woods.

  She said, “I know what I can do. How can I relate this to you? Ooohhh, do you know who Bruce Lee is?”

  “Aint he that crazy kung fu guy? I think I seen a few of his movies.”

  Alayna tossed her head from side to side. “He wasn’t crazy, and although kung fu is technically right, he studied what was called Wing Chun. He crafted the principles from that practice into what he called Jun Fan Gung Fu. That basically translates to Bruce Lee’s kung fu, so you are correct.”

  Mike looked down at the woman, his mind twisting in knots, trying to figure out if his eyes were playing tricks on him. “I know I just got blazed, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Alayna used her golden fingernails to chase some dirt from the waist of her dress. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a know-it-all at times. Back on track now. Have you heard of the Bruce Lee one-inch punch?”

  “No.”

  She smiled. “That’s all right. Basically, Bruce Lee knew that a lot of fighting could be extremely close-quartered, so he developed techniques to be effective in these scenarios. For our purposes here, we will call it the fingertip punch. Mine are shorter than yours, so you should have an advantage.”

  Mike turned to walk away again when a shrill call resonated in his ears. “Stop.”

  It was only one word, and Mike never listened to anyone. He went to continue on his way, but instead, his body involuntarily made a one-eighty turn and faced the smiling dwarf.

  Alayna walked up and leaned against the trunk of a big oak tree. “I wasn’t finished with my spiel, and my time isn’t cheap, so you should appreciate these lessons. A fingertip punch works like this.” She held her fingers straight out and placed them against the rough bark of the tree. “Imagine the tree is my target, and I can’t wind up. I have to punch from only a fingertip distance away. I make a fist.” She curled her bruised knuckles into a ball. “I can only strike from this distance away. And I have small fingers.”

  Mike asked, “Why in the hell would you do that?”

  She shook her head. “As I said, it is to be used in close fighting and whatever other situations might warrant it. This technique proves that power doesn’t have to derive from brute strength. It can come from your mind. Do you want to try it out?”

  “You going to leave me alone if I do? Whatever. Kyle’s probably still sleeping, and I don’t got anywhere to go right now.”

  She chirped at him. “You first.”

  “You want me to hit a little girl?”

  The smirk on her lips curled in the other direction. “Don’t worry, I’ve been smacked by savage beasts much bigger than you. I’m not a little girl either. I am nine-hundred and ninety-nine years old. Now hit me, you little bitch.”

  Mike laughed and shook his head. “Is that like twenty-nine for most women? Have you turned nine-hundred and ninety-nine, like, forty or fifty times?”

  Alayna shook her head and flipped him off with both hands. “Hit me.”

  Mike shrugged his shoulders. “If you really want me to.”

  “Oh, I insist.” The faerie pointed to her shoulder, and Mike leaned down and placed his hand near the target.

  He gave her a final chance to call it off, but she didn’t, so Mike closed his fist and rammed it into her upper arm. He jolted her upper body with the punch, but her heels remained dug firmly into the earth’s soil, and her feet didn’t budge.

  Mike immediately felt bad about hitting a tiny woman. “Sorry, but you asked for it.”

  Alayna mockingly brushed off her lace flower-decorated shoulder and blew on her fingernails. “The bugs must be biting today. My turn. My turn.”

  She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Mike felt a gentle breeze as a cloud of green smoke rushed from the open aperture. Alayna put her hands on her hips and raised her head. Her nostrils widened like an angry bull’s and the emerald fog suddenly started to flow in reverse.

  She reclaimed the magic gas through her nose, shook her head and opened her eyes, looking refreshed. Mike started to back away as she approached him.

  She pestered him, “Where are you going? You aren’t afraid of little ole me, are you, big boy?”

  Mike stopped. He wasn’t afraid of her. He was terrified. This had to be a figment of his imagination. Still, he kneeled and pulled up the short sleeve on his shirt, exposing his corded bicep and the bulging blue veins tracing around his upper arm and shoulder.

  Mike waited for his love tap but the woman was staring at him adoringly. “You gonna do this?”

  She flickered her eyelids. “I’m sorry. I feel like I just got lost in a portal or something. I’ve traveled back in history many times, and you remind me of a great warrior. The rippling muscles, haunting blue eyes and short blond hair. His hair wasn’t always long, and it certainly wasn’t dark, the way some of the books like to claim. Most of the movies and books get it wrong.”

  “And who in the hell are you talking about?”

  She instantly replied, “Lancelot.” A flash of electricity ran through her eyes, but it deadened when Mike returned a dopey stare.

  She shook her head. “I forgot that you are not exactly scholarly. Rest assured it’s a great compliment. All right, you ready?”

  She moved in closer, laid her silky fingertips against Mike’s triceps and moved up to his shoulder. Four tiny golden fingernails disappeared into her palm.

  Quick as lightning, her tiny fist sprang into motion, ending with a harsh thud against the big man’s solid flesh. Mike toppled over on the ground as sharp, jagged pains centered in his shoulder and ran down his arm. He used his other arm to recover his sunglasses from the ground.

  “You wicked bitch. What the hell was that?” he yelled.

  She held her index finger over her lips and whispered, “Magic and mind-power, my dear. And I quite like that nickname. Don’t get it twisted, Mike. You can be much more powerful than me.”

  Mike stood up and shot her a dirty look before jogging away.

  She screamed, “Stop.”

  Again, Mike didn’t want to, but he turned around involuntarily and walked up to Alayna. Perhaps he yearned for structure or discipline. Hell, Mike would take any parental-type figure just giving a lick about him. However, he still didn’t think that this lady was real, although that punch had most certainly felt real.

  Sudden anger rushed through his body. He thought he must be dying. This had to be some lucid dream before he was judged and sent to hell. The confused young man locked eyes with this magnetic woman.

  “Uh oh. You look mad. I’ll give you a chance to wind up and hit me. It’s only fair. Go ahead.”

  Mike watched in awe as a glow equal to the gold of sunshine washed over the dwarf like a waterfall. She retained her pearly white complexion as the yellow gleam faded. He rubbed his eyelids harder this time but the strange image remained standing a few feet away.

  “I would never hit a woman with a full punch,” Mike promised and turned to leave.

  He immediately spun back around and threw a haymaker at
the dwarf’s shoulder. His fist, forearm and shoulder passed through the target as if the woman was a hologram or projection. His momentum caused him to plant his face in the dirt.

  Alayna chuckled like Scooby Doo.

  Mike scrambled to his knees.

  She informed him, “I can teach you all of this. What say you now?”

  Mike started to walk away, paused for a second and turned around. He glared at her mousy nose and mouth, and could picture whiskers on her cheeks. He slapped his cheek, assuming he was hallucinating. “You want to know what I say. I say you should take your midget ass outta here before you get mistaken for an animal and get shot. Hell, you could get eaten by one of the bigger animals round here.”

  Her blond brows lowered, face flushed, and anger latched to her face. “I’m a faerie, asshole. I can help you with the cancer despite you acting like a fool right now. Don’t be stupid. Oh, look who I’m talking to. Come on, I thought you didn’t have anywhere to go. He’s going to kill you if you don’t take my help.”

  “Who’s gonna kill me?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “George.”

  Now he was convinced this was only a figment of his imagination. The weed always carried a calming effect, but the herbal remedy couldn’t prevent Mike from getting riled up. He wanted to keep the secret about his cancer diagnosis just that, a secret. He flipped her off with his right hand and turned his back for the last time.

  Mike broke into a sprint, and before too long, the heavy sounds of following footsteps ceased. He pulled his phone from his hip pocket and called Kyle.

  Chapter 2

  Emily

  EMILY POKED HER HEAD in the open screen door of the Wallace Avenue convenience store. “You guys sell Red Bull here?”

  The salt-and-pepper bearded clerk wore thick, Coke-bottle glasses and seemed to be looking to her right, not directly at her.

  He said, “Sorta.”

  Emily spoke in terse, desperate tones. “Look, look. Either you sell it. Or you don’t...fucking sell it. It’s not hard.”

  The clerk still looked to the side of her and said in a stern manner, “Tell you one thing we don’t do with round here, an’ ‘at’s cussin’, young lady. Said sorta ‘cause we don’t sell that fancy name-brand stuff. What we got’s over there in the cooler, and I’ll thank you kindly to mind your tongue as well.”

 

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