Dyna-Mike

3.

I arrived home with mercifully few further incidents. I observed that it always seemed home was farther away when you were in a hurry to get there. By this time my torn pant leg had fallen completely off and I was fully exposed on the right side from my waist to my ankles. Plus I had to pee, which made my gait even more unusual.

I turned the last corner from my house. My neighbor, old Mrs. Daltry was watering her juniper bushes in the front yard. She spied me as I came hobbling up past her.

"My heavens, young man… You should be ashamed of yourself… simply shocking!" she exclaimed in disgust as I crossed the street into my yard. I sighed with relief as I began walking across my driveway to the front door. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath my sneakers was comforting to me, and I noticed the sun was starting to break through the morning overcast clouds. I stopped at the front door, and reached into my pocket for my key. Oops, no pocket! My hand fumbled around looking for the missing pant leg, and then I realized I was locked out of my own house! I sat down on the front steps and hung my head. A robin flitted down from the eaves and trotted a few feet in front of me on the walkway, chirping gaily. The sun broke through the clouds a bit more, and a bright, warm ray of sunshine hit me, warming me instantly. I smiled, and looked at the bird. It chirped a few times, and then flew over me toward the roof of the house. I felt a slight thump on my head, and felt the gooey substance left behind when Mr. Robin left his calling card in my hair. I reached up to wipe it off, smearing it all over my hand.

"Great," I said, looking for something to clean my fingers on. Naturally, there was nothing. I slowly rose, and walked to the side yard, opening the gate as I got there. It creaked slowly on its old rusty hinges. My dog, Nickle, shot past with a triumphant bark before I could block his path, and blazed off down the street as fast as his legs could carry him. Soon he was completely out of sight.

I continued to the back yard, and arrived at the rear door. It didn't take long to realize it was locked too. I looked at the nearby windows, and noticed the bathroom window was slightly open. I pried on it in an attempt to force it open far enough to squeeze through. It started to move, then with aloud cracking sound it shattered, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. I instinctively shut my eyes and waited for the sounds to subside. When all was calm, I slowly opened my eyes to evaluate the damage. I was standing in a pile of glass in front of an empty window with one pant leg on. I shrugged and pulled myself through the window space.

I knew it was a long drop to the floor on the other side, and I was pretty sure there was glass in the area as well, so I closed my eyes as I slid into the bathroom. I began to fall. And fall. And fall. And I kept falling. After a few moments I realized the floor couldn't possibly be that far down, and I opened my eyes.

I was falling, all right. Dark swirling mists surrounded me, with billions of tiny red lights twinkling off and on, as far as the eye could see. I flailed my arms about, causing the mists to whip around me, and the lights to blink faster as they rushed past me. I felt my descent slowing, and I finally came to a halt in the middle of this dark nothingness. There was a sound like steam escaping from a tiny hole, but I saw nothing but the dark clouds and miniature ruby lights.

"Witherrrrspooonnnn," croaked a deep voice in the darkness.

"Um, who's there?" I timidly asked. There was sudden motion to my right, and a large figure seemed to be floating toward me through the black fog. As it approached, its features became clearer. I gasped when it came into full view.

His stature was tremendous. He was at least seven feet tall, with a massive black head covered with fur. His blazing red eyes had dark gleaming black pupils that emitted an eerie light. His body was as big and expanse as a buffalo, but in the shape of a man, with muscular arms and huge legs, all covered with coarse black hair. He carried a staff of gnarled ebony wood eight feet long, with a crystal globe at the top, in which gray smoke swirled in constant motion. When he stopped in front of me, his mouth opened, revealing long, yellow, pointed teeth as sharp as daggers; and a tongue as black as obsidian, which wagged obscenely as he moved.

"Youuuu are in MY domain now, Humannn, " boomed the deep, menacing voice. "I am Mortach, Keeper of the Dark, and you are in my Lair."  He moved around me slowly, regarding my features and snorting with disgust occasionally. I could hear whispering voices snickering and giggling, but I could see no one but Mortach.

"SILENCE!" He bellowed, and all fell quiet. "You are a foolish pawn, Witherrrrspooonnnn. You have been seduced by the beauty of the deceptress Gabrielae and The Fair, and have unwittingly fallen into their wicked plot." He stopped moving and peered into my eyes. "I do not understand what she sees in you, Humannn. You are weak and foolish, no warrior at all. How could you possibly oppose the Immortals?" He spat angrily. His staff moved toward me until the crystal globe was under my chin. He began to push up with the globe until my head was strained up and unable to wiggle out of his grasp. He stared into the globe for a few minutes, saying nothing. His breath was hot on my neck as he curiously read into the swirling gray smoke within the orb, and finally he removed it from my neck.

"I see…" he said slowly. "So you are the heir of Adam, are you?

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I squeaked with fright. "My Dad's name was Elmer, and he died before I was born; and my mother's name is Hannah. I don't even have an uncle named Adam!"

"FOOL!" Mortach cried. "Your insignificant lineage is of no matter to me. You are Humannn, and your ancestor is the Adam, the First One. By some incomprehensible miscarriage of justice you have inherited His blood, and that is why you are the Chosen. I am sure she did not tell you this…" he glared at me.

"She, she said it was Fate, that she just liked me… she told me…" I stammered.

"Do you believe everything you are told, Humannn?" Mortach growled. "She is a liar, and uses her costume of beauty to deceive her pawns, as do all her people. She cares nothing about you at all. She knew of your bloodline, and your inept loneliness, and took advantage of your gullibility to manipulate you."

"NO!" I shouted. "She is good, and she likes me! You can do what you want, I don't believe you!"

"Strong words for a half-naked fool with feces on his fingers and head…" laughed Mortach menacingly. "Know this, Humann: I will oppose you. You will not succeed in your Quest, and you will never receive the Gifts of Eden! I shall see to it personally! You meddle in things you cannot begin to understand. Go home to your meaningless life, and abandon this futility, or you will be destroyed!" Mortach reached out and pushed roughly against my chest with his black staff. My body began to float away from him, turning head over heels, until I became quite dizzy. The spinning continued until I thought I would pass out. I closed my eyes to try to steady myself, then fell suddenly on the floor… the floor…

…the floor… the floor of… of my bathroom at home! I was in Fairmont again. What the heck was going on? Was I suffering from hallucinations, or just losing my mind? I climbed to my feet, and shook my head. Everything looked normal, except for the shredded pants, the broken glass all over the floor, my mother standing there yelling at me, …um…my Mother?

"Are you out of your mind? What the heck do you think you're doing? Why aren't you at school? Why in the world are you smashing my windows? Who's going to clean up this mess? What the heck did you do to your pants? Do you think money grows on trees? Who's going to pay for all this? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…" her voice droned on until I heard nothing but noise. I looked up, smiled sheepishly and said,

"I'll take care of it, Mom." I walked down the hallway to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I stood looking at my reflection in the floor-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. Man, my ears were big. I looked like Dumbo the elephant! My knock-knees protruded ridiculously to the sides, and my skinny stick-legs barely held my pathetically weak body up. My hair had been butchered by the nearly blind barber my mother took me to every other week, despite my cries of injustice and fashion suicide. I could hear her words echoing in my brain…

"Listen here, young men. When you start paying the bills around here you can dress any way you want. In the meantime, you'll dress and wear your hair as I choose, and if you don't like it, you know what you can do!" Mom was always so sensitive.

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