Sunday, October 3, 2021

Erik

Whenever Erik would visit Rust Alley, he'd see the donkey-headed man grinning at him. Erik would look at his big white teeth, even though he isn't supposed to, and the donkey-headed man would say a thing so weird, that the contemplation of its meaning would consume in unhealthy ways a good portion of Erik's waking life. Sometimes it would haunt his dreams too.

The donkey-headed man is three legged, blind and vast. His appendices stretch away, hiding in the shadowy corners of the alley. Heart-shaped sunglasses reflect the lamppost's light, looking back at Erik with two bright pupils, and like graffiti on a wall, his body merges with the derelict shacks behind him. He says:

Why do I hear a telephone ringing? The wiring isn't installed properly. Am I blind? Am I not deaf? Ruined by your vindication, I smile to welcome fear, for a broken messenger I am. Would you fix me with your coins?”

Then he asks for change to get his tile-like teeth whitened. Erik knows he's a crook. Everyone in Rust Alley is. But why doesn't he just ask for money? Why the cryptic lines? If it's an elaborate mendicant's trick, it works well, because Erik always gives him something. The donkey-headed man's teeth don't get any whiter though. He only gets more vast.

Erik is part-time librarian and part-time the bottom right piece of a three-man human pyramid. To make it bigger he must make more friends. He must also convince Daryl to lose some weight, or he can't be top anymore. Daryl is the answer to the question, who ate my happy thoughts? Usually asked around vanished happy thoughts. The third member of the pyramid is Kim. Kim is imaginary. She's Erik's favorite person in the whole world, while he admits he has never been anywhere away from The City. He also admits, Kim doesn't pull her weight when it comes to human pyramids, but she's always there. And she always listens to everything Erik tells her.

When Erik arrives to the tavern, he knows he's there, because he sees the sign with the serpent circling around itself, eating its tail. The Green Donut he calls it. A great place to meet friends for his pyramid. Like the regular that he is, Erik knows all of the other regulars. He enters waving intensely, while trying to provoke eye-contact with as many people as he can. There's Horatia, the canned magic bean seller, her beans have repeatedly fed the irritated beast inside Erik's swollen belly. And there's Jimiwhiskers the pirate cat, whose boat shrunk and now she's too big for it. There's Erik in the mirror. He says Hi to all of them.

With feet dancing to the band's excellent tunes, he makes his way to the bar. It's Pan's horned ghost on the piano and a pair of floating clams on additional percussion. The tap dancer accompanying them isn't top. Just tap. The Mushroom Cult is Erik's favorite live performance band, and he never shies out of karaoke nights. His favorite act is weeping at the microphone under sad piano tunes. He can always cry at will. Erik considers himself a dabbling performer.

First thing, Erik places his lantern upon the bar. He always carries a hooded lantern with him. It doesn't have a hood, but he bought it in a store in the hood, as he likes to call the assortment of civilized edifices around his house. It's a little joke of his, oftentimes used as an ice-breaker in a conversation with a potential friend. Erik's sense of humor is analogous to the amount of friends he has.

The lantern has smoked glass and inside lives Erik's saner self. Doctor Oji put him there, so Erik can have fun.

He orders two drinks. One for himself and one for Kim. He drinks both of them, then his face gently welcomes the varnished wood of the bar. Before Erik falls asleep, he tells Kim to wake him up if any friends arrive. He closes his eyes and the lantern lights up. To Erik, dreams make much more sense. 

 

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