Monday 9 November 2015

If Wishes Were Horses 9



Today’s word count: 1693              Total word count:  16,088

I’d really have preferred not to go to work that morning, but I’d already taken two days off and I didn’t think I could push it much further. Besides, I didn’t know if or when I might need time off to sort out my forthcoming battles, which I assumed I would have to face if I ever wanted to be completely free of Dee.  One thing the reading had taught me was that the fight to be safe again would be a long and hard war. While many of the magic creatures I’d read about could be overcome with spells, incantations and amulets, others were like bad stains that could be faded, but they’d leave their shadows behind and never quite disappear.  The only thing I had with any apparent power against him was the books. I’d taken them to bed and kept them close all night in the hope that their proximity would continue to protect me. My dreams were untroubled, so I figured the volumes had helped to keep me safe from nightmares, and I decided to take them to the office with me. In fact I was aiming to have them on me as often as possible for the foreseeable future, until I had built up some other sort of safeguard to stand in for them. After all, they were only on loan. Sooner or later the library would want them back.

My drive to work was reasonably uneventful. The usual bunch of idiots broke as many laws as they could around me while I tried hard not to wish anything bad on any of them. It was not easy! I’m not a naturally patient driver and before the pendant I would have been shouting all manner of insults at everyone else on the road, particularly cyclists, and posh car owners who seem to think they have more rights than those of us in ordinary sized saloons. One guy in a red sports car, who clearly wanted to be in Formula One, joined the rest of us at a notorious junction and took no notice of anyone else as he raced straight off the slip way and crossed all the traffic to head directly into the fast lane. I saw little more than a scarlet flash as he went across in front of me, missing my car by inches, and tanking off into the distance. That kind of selfish behaviour made me so angry. “Moron!” I shouted. “I hope you meet yourself coming back!” Then I shut my mouth tight in horror as I realised what I had said. Dee couldn’t fail to see that as a wish, and if the speed king really did meet something coming the other way there would be more than his life at stake in the ensuing collision.  This time it would be on my conscience because I knew the risks and I’d made the wish in spite of the hazard. “Oh please god, don’t let anybody get killed because of me,” I thought. I’m not religious and I don’t pray, but I hoped the afterthought would count in my favour just a bit.  The red menace wasn’t the last moron to cross my path that day, but I managed to keep hold of my temper for the rest of the journey by listening to stupid talk shows on the local radio station. I couldn’t help wondering how the presenter ever passed the job interview, because his non-stop commentary had no apparent planning behind it, just gibberish interspersed by occasional lower than top twenty hits from the seventies and eighties. I didn’t enjoy it, but at least it stopped me thinking about the other road users and putting all of us in danger.

At work Minty reached me almost as soon as I passed the threshold. Her hairstyle today had something of the Eiffel Tower about it. I don’t know how she managed to create the impression, but there were four definite sides to the construction, and it stuck out upwards and backwards from her skull. It came to a kind of point, somewhere behind her.  Around her forehead and above her ears she wore a thin black band with rhinestones set onto it, sort of like floodlights around a church tower. She launched into a flow of words that reminded me of the radio jockey but at least today I managed to stop myself from thinking an order to go away. She expressed concern about my health and cooed that I still looked peaky and why on earth did I come back to work on a Friday?

“Well thanks for the boost to my confidence, you’re a real pal!” I chided. “Do I look that bad? I really couldn’t take three days off for a migraine, Minty. Everyone would know I’d been playing hooky.”

“Were you playing hooky?” she asked and I could have kicked myself for saying it.
“No. I mean that if I’d taken another day off I would actually have been skiving. It isn’t justified. And everyone would have known that.”

“And I guess you’d have nothing to stay home for, seeing as Sir Galahad is here today. How did you get on? Are you going to see him again?  It must have been good if you both missed two days. Don’t you dare tell me you weren’t with him because I won’t believe you!”

I looked aghast at her, hoping that I’d misunderstood. “I wasn’t with him. He took me home and then he left. That’s all there was to it. I don’t want anything to do with him. What do you mean he’s here today? He shouldn’t be anywhere near here.”

“And why would you have any idea where he should be today if you’ve not been with him? To think I’ve been really worried about you and all this time you’ve been playing hooky – and heaven knows what else – with a drop dead gorgeous guy like him!”

“Oh trust me, you need to have been worried about me. You have no idea how bad things have been.”

“You mean you’ve really been ill? I’m sorry I doubted you if you’re really having a bad time.”

“I really am having a bad time and that man is a big part of the problem. I tell you I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t even want to think about him.”

“Does that mean he’s free for me to make a play then?” Her eyes lit up, and a hopeful look took over her face.

“No!” I didn’t realise how loudly I’d shouted until I saw people turning to look at me. “No,” I repeated in a quieter tone. “Leave him alone. He’s really not a nice guy. Stay away. You’ll only end up badly hurt. Please, for your own good, I beg you.”
Her expression quickly changed to one of concern and she looked at me with wide eyes. “Did he hurt you? Did he do something he shouldn’t? Have you told anyone? Have you reported it?”
“Oh Minty, it’s nothing like that, “I interrupted before she could go too far down the road she was on. “I can’t tell you what it is. Just please believe me that you’re better off keeping well away from him.”
In return she gave me such a look of great pity and compassion that I dearly wanted to be able to tell her about Dee, but I needed to protect her against him and his awful powers. I wanted him out of my life, but I had to avoid inflicting him on anyone else at the same time. I would have loved to have her help in getting rid of him, but I couldn’t risk him using her in the same way he was trying to control me. Try as I might I could never think of Minty as being a real grown-up. She always seemed so innocent and helpless, like the proverbial damsel in distress. The fact that Dee had chosen to call himself ‘Sir Galahad’ to her implied he had picked up on the same impression. I couldn’t let him get his horribly pointed teeth into her, whatever else happened. She wouldn’t know what hit her.
“Listen Minty, I promise I’ll tell you one day what went on, but right now I want to pretend it isn’t happening and that he isn’t in this building. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to have to talk to him. I just.....”  I ran out of steam. All this worry and having to watch my every thought was taking its toll on me. Thank heavens the weekend was heading my way.
“You poor thing,” she said, “You’re not really over that migraine properly are you? It must have been a bad one. Take it easy today, if you must stay, and I’ll do my best to keep Sir Galahad away from you.”
“I’m telling you, Minty, stay away from him. Even if you think you’re protecting me. Just stay as far away as you can. Always. OK?”
She gave me a sympathetic look and nodded, but I suspected she didn’t believe that he was actually dangerous. She’d never have believed m, even if I’d told her everything. I mean, you wouldn’t would you? What would you say?  ‘I bought a pendant and it’s haunted by a weird magical creature that promised it would grant me three wishes a day and sometimes it does, but they all come out badly. It was my fault that Mr Elliott died because I wished he’d go play on the railway line and he did. Now I’m too terrified to speak or even think in case I wish harm on somebody else. My thoughts can kill.’

They’d call the guys in the white van with the straight jackets before I could breathe and I’d find myself in a padded room in the mental hospital and doped up to the eyeballs with some calming medicine, dribbling and muttering. And the worst part is that Dee would still be there and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing to get rid of him.

No comments:

Post a Comment