If Wishes Were Horses 8

Today’s word count : 1739        Total word count: 14,399

Arriving home I walked through the lounge, putting my notebook and the two volumes Ami had found me onto the table. I figured I faced a three pot problem, as Sherlock Holmes didn’t quite phrase it, and went straight to the kitchen to make some tea. I should have known that I wouldn’t be allowed too long without my Dark Elf. The books had at least given me a way to think of him, and I hoped the name would not offend his sense of politeness. Dark Elf: Dee for short.  I’d concocted the label on the bus ride home and felt slightly better about having to face him, now that I had a proper name for him.  I certainly didn’t have the deep sinking feeling I expected to experience when I caught sight of him in my apartment. There he stood, or rather lounged, by the breakfast bar, looking every bit as slimily suave as I’d seen him before.  I walked past him and proceeded to make a pot of tea as if he didn’t exist.

Today he wore a light coloured suit with a dark shirt under it, open almost to the waist. His feet were squeezed into excessively long, snake skin winkle picker shoes and his hair formed a cloudy bouffant around his head. The 1970s crooner image needed only a thick mat of chest hair and a gold medallion for authenticity. Come to think of it, he had absolutely no apparent body hair on any of his visible skin, which struck me as strange, given how much hair his original incarnation had – the one I mistook for a monkey. I had a sudden mental image of a reptile of some kind, and I shuddered involuntarily.

“Nasty! You shouldn’t think of me like that. This chest wax took forever and I did it especially for you.”

I gave him the most disdainful look I could muster. “No you didn’t. You can make yourself look like anything you want within seconds – even less than seconds – so it took no effort at all on your part. Don’t try to kid me that you make any attempt to please me.”

He turned his head half-way from me and gave me an odd look from the corner of his eyes. I thought I caught a glimpse of fear or confusion, but it passed swiftly and I couldn’t be sure.  His reply sounded measured and phrased with care. “Actually this amount of Glamour takes a lot of maintaining. You should be flattered, because I do make an effort.” Then he paused, and I felt as if he expected me to respond.  Instead I ignored him and continued to prepare my brew. At the time I had too little knowledge to recognise the capital letter on that word, I realised he had emphasised it, but believed he just meant his appearance. Instead I considered what could have caused his changed behaviour, and I pondered what advantage I could take from this obvious new development.  If I hadn’t been so scared of his reading my mind I would have thought more sensibly, but at the time I was still a novice and terrified of who else he might kill if I thought the wrong thing.

I took my time over boiling, mashing and stirring, trying hard to think of some way to investigate the possible vulnerability I had noticed. He showed distinct signs of discomfort but so far I hadn’t a clue what had caused them. I thought back over what I had read in the afternoon but couldn’t find many hints in what I remembered. I would need to study in much more depth and take notes.

“You’re concentrating very hard on that tea. Anyone would think you’d never made a pot before.”

Had he chosen to ignore my thoughts or could he genuinely not read them at the moment? But that didn’t make sense. He had clearly seen my thoughts about his lizard skin, so why didn’t he comment on my reading the book? He must realise what and why I had fetched them from the library.  An image of Ami slipped in between my thoughts.  Dark Elf frowned.

“You’re not wearing my pendant. Why not?”

Surely he had seen the image of the librarian that could not get out of my brain. He should be taking the opportunity to criticise or bully me about it, but he hadn’t taken the chance.  I decided to risk upsetting him.   

“I realised I don’t really like it. It’s quite cheap and nasty, now I’ve had a good look at it. I think I paid well over its proper value, in fact. I’m considering sending it to the charity shop.”

At the word ‘charity’ he winced but he didn’t let that stop him. “That won’t help, you know.”

“What won’t help? Won’t help with what?”

“Making me leave you alone. You can’t get rid of me that way. I’m attached to you now, not the pendant. There’s no way you can get rid of me now. I’m yours for life.”

That scared me. But I carried on, determined not to give in to his trickery. “What makes you think I’m trying to get rid of you? Did I say that?”

“Well you didn’t want me around the last time I was here. You threw a proper tantrum and said get out of your life.”

“Oh that. I was tired. I’d had a bad day. Let’s just ignore that. Pretend it never happened and start again. “

He actually smiled. I had lied to him and insulted him in the space of a couple of sentences and he had not retaliated in any way. So he couldn’t have had any idea what I had been doing all day, but I had no idea what I had done to protect my thoughts from him.  A fascinating situation, but what should I do with it? I walked back through to the lounge with my pot of tea. He followed, so closely that I felt uncomfortable, but I determined not to let it show and just kept going until I could put the teapot down next to the books. When I turned around he had left a wider space between us and his chest now sprouted a fine pelt. Still no medallion though.

“That’s better,” I said, “That’s more like the you I first met.” He looked down sharply and seemed surprised at what he saw. Then he looked back quickly at me, and followed that with a long, slow appraisal of the room, finally landing his gaze on the table, which he stared at for several seconds. “By the way, I’ve decided to call you Dee,” I announced.

He tore his eyes from the books very slowly and gave me his cautious, sideways look again. “Oh yes, and why did you settle on that?”

“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? It stands for…..” I stopped myself quickly as a thought hit me. “What do you mean ‘why’? You can read my mind. You must know why.”

“Well of course I know. I just wanted to hear you tell me yourself. I’m giving you the chance to gloat.  You must think you’ve been very clever to work out my name.”

He was bluffing, I could tell. Dee wasn’t his name, just what I’d chosen to call him, but I couldn’t work out why his attitude had suddenly changed. His whole demeanour showed less confidence, more hesitation, and he seemed to have shrunk a little. This caginess didn’t fit the Dee I’d encountered before, but I liked it, because I felt I had hit a weakness, if only I could work out exactly what weakness I’d found.

“It came to me while I was reading earlier,” I said, and his eyes flashed to the books again, the fearful expression more obvious this time.  Then he tried to upset me with a new attack, but I thought I detected another increase in furriness around his neck.

“And what kind of trashy piece of chick lit were you indulging yourself with?”

“Not chick lit. Not fiction, in fact. It’s a text book. A rather old text book, if you must know. Interesting English. I’m fascinated by how our language has changed over the centuries. I plan to read it all the way through because it’s very educational.”

No doubt about it, those books scared him. I didn’t know quite how I would use that weapon, but at least I knew now that it was in my armoury. I tried something different, and leaned over to the table, putting my hand close by the two volumes I had left there earlier. He stepped back and turned away from me, clearly troubled by the move, but when he turned back to me his face had returned to its supercilious version. That meant the weapon had a limited range then. I wondered if the power would increase if I actually touched the books and reached out to move them, as if I planned to pour my tea.  He immediately turned away again and I heard a strangled voice say, “I don’t think you’re much fun tonight. I’m going.” And I watched him grow steadily hairier, and shorter, as he faded slowly away.

I had no doubts, something about the books had made him at first uncomfortable, and then scared, as I got closer to them.  He didn’t like them at all. Maybe they really held the answer to my problem and he knew that somehow. I’d have to read both of them carefully to find what I needed to know and swiftly decided there was no time like the present. I settled down with the books and started trying to make sense of them; notebook at my elbow and freshly sharpened pencil to hand.  The almost impenetrable language made it tough going, but I persevered and soon I could understand more of the words, but still they made very little sense as I read them together. I needed help, and I thought I knew who would be able to help. I had the perfect excuse to go back to the library and talk to Ami, but first I had to get an early night. I couldn’t get away with having another day off work and I had to face the reality that I would spend tomorrow at the office, even though my priorities were elsewhere.