by Steve Aylett
More than a year later, Fain arrived to find the mossed cave empty. With no way of knowing when the old lunatic would show up or of hastening time forward, Fain set up camp in the cave, and waited.
Over time, the few artefacts he had brought from the palace began to look strange on the shelves of the cave. Did they really belong in a palace? And how did The Adventures of Young Fade end? He sat inventing endings for the book. But wasn’t the end already written?
Fain remembered a long golden beach, and shells of red gold collected in a green gold grotto. He remembered a woman with gold eyes and a hard smooth head like a seal’s. Who was he waiting for?
He roasted chestnuts on a fire outside the cave, and those he didn’t eat he stored in a jar. One night he tipped the jar over, hearing a nut rattling around inside which refused to fall out. Sticking his head inside, he quickly understood that he was stuck. He could smash the jar on the cave wall, but wasn’t it valuable or special? He should wait a while before doing anything rash.
The next day he heard someone approaching the cave. It was a young man, sounding weary, and Fain remembered.
‘Hello old lunatic. Let me help you with that.’
The young man smashed the urn from his head.
‘Man, you really took your time,’ said Fain, chuckling at the sight of his younger self, and told him about the three wishes.
‘Only three wishes?’ said his younger self. ‘Well, I happen to be able to see at great distances as though through the strongest telescope ever created, but observing conversations and certain other scenes in this way can be frustrating, and so I wish to be able to hear at great distances, only at times when I want this power to manifest. Secondly, that the sardines I can currently draw magically from my pockets should instead be replaced by chestnuts. Thirdly, I wish that all my magical powers should be imparted to Princess Aleksa of Envashes, while yet retaining such powers myself.’
‘You choose hell, young stranger,’ Fain cackled. And he found himself traversing a golden mapless land via Drake’s curse and blessing to arrive in the shallow surf of a warm beach. Beside him lay the mermaid, telling him about a conch shell through which he could speak into the dreams of any person anywhere.
No, he would not use the shell to escape paradise. He would be witness to the blue sky, and the flashing tail of his beloved. He would finish his lessons in understanding the ocean’s sand-messages. He would live out his life where the sea polished every shell to a precious gem and colours lived for their own deep sake.
[end]
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