Short stories to read on a bus, a car, train, or plane (or a comfy chair anywhere). Includes the novella «Duck Creek». Colin David Palmer
ies to read on a bus, a car, train, or plane (or a comfy chair anywhere)
Includes the novella "Duck Creek"
Colin David Palmer
© Colin David Palmer, 2017
ISBN 978-83-8104-943-6
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
“THE ORPHAN GENIE”
Evan Floyd stepped out onto the dark street on the most momentous day of his life. Not that anything had occurred … yet! To Evan, it had just been another day like any other day, nothing remarkable to think about and no additional stress in his already over-stressed life which sort of made it good day. But he never got to think that way as events transpired to change his life in a most unusual manner and everything that happened before was relegated to another time, another life even.
I could see him coming down that dark street as I’d seen him on previous occasions, sometimes during the day and sometimes like now in the early evening, his thoughts utterly dependant on whatever drives him from his office at this exact time almost every single day. I know he is in Real Estate; I’ve seen his office and even took one of his business cards which is how I came to know his name – no slight of hand, no wizardry, no spells, no trickery – just for a change. His steps are closer and though I see him, he has never set eyes upon me before until he walks around that corner … now!
‘What, what the hell! Hullo? Are you alright?’
I had awashed myself with bright light as he rounded the corner so that when I materialised, it was during a brief period of blindness. For Evan, it would have appeared that I had always been there but the wash of light, he would explain to himself, was caused by the lights of a car in the adjacent car park. I felt positive about this otherwise I would not have risked such an overt exposure.
It was imperative that he think that way or it could mean my demise. My insight did not fail me and his words of concern soothe me. I reach up with one hand like a leper or some street beggar (which was indeed how I was portraying myself), and though my appearance would be shocking to some, Evan was homely enough not to ignore a fellow man in such poor circumstances as I appeared to be. I had always known I would have to do something to attract his attention, and his attention alone, but I also had to be certain that he was a suitable subject as my alms are not delegated lightly. My hand hung limply but he didn’t step forward to take it, his face struggling with revulsion of my slovenly appearance.
‘Help me Mister’ I said as pathetically as I could, ‘help me?’
He paused for such a length of time that I thought he might turn and run, his loathing at my sight like a neon sign on his cringing face. Then resolve and charity perhaps took ahold, and he stepped toward me and grasped my hand, and as they met then so did a certain immediate understanding, for I passed that on to him to assist in the commission of my duty and his favour. Instead of helping me rise he squatted down in front of me, his hand still in mine and the care that shone from his face was like a trophy for me.
‘Hey, it’s all right fella,’ his comment eliciting such sweet sorrow that tears spilled over my ancient cheeks. ‘Whoa, it’s okay, let me help you up?’
The exhilaration at hearing these words made me cry even more and with fabricated effort and his assistance, I gained my feet. He quickly released my hand and stepped back in surprise, for sitting against the wall I had appeared childlike, a waif, but on uncoiling my frame I towered like a collossus over his own six foot tall and overweight mass. Fear replaced his surprise, fear and revulsion but just for a moment – then my disheveled and desperate appearance reasserted itself and he tentatively slipped his hand into the crook of my elbow.
‘Come my man’. He spoke loudly with false bravado, given away by the slightest tremor and the fact that he was looking around desperately for other sources of possible assistance … for himself or for me, I could not be certain.
‘Where … where are you taking me?’ I stooped slightly so he could more naturally and comfortably lead me.
‘Well, I’d say we’d best get you cleaned up first,’ he pinched his nose for effect, ‘then maybe some food? You hungry?’ He peered into my face waiting for an answer but then went on, ‘I hope you’re not fussy, I, I don’t have much. Hey, I’ll just get pizza, order it while you’re showering! What d’ya reckon?’
I nodded at him, my tear streaked face appearing sad, my exhilaration well camouflaged, ‘thank you.’
His modest home was close by and he ushered me around and fussed like an old woman. Ensconced in the bathroom with the shower beckoning, he smiled at me and closed the door, the apparel he had provided draped across the edge of the bath. I completed my ablutions in short order (just a thought away) and left the shower running for some minutes. My powers are more useful than merely materialising wealth for others! Not that I had done so for a goodly length of time, provided for a Master – but that is my purpose here and I had selected Evan to be that Master, if he should so choose. Did he rub a bottle or a lamp? No, he had not. He had earned it.
He knocked at the door and announced the pizza, I donned his ill fitting garments and retired my now sweet smelling soma to his living area. Evan was opening two pink pizza boxes and he stopped as I approached the table, looking me up and down, then his face broke into a cheery grin which he initially tried to swallow before his laughter burst forth in an unstoppable delight. I looked down at myself and apart from the trouser hems only reaching halfway between my knees and ankles, and the sleeves of the indian cotton sweatshirt coiling loosely about my elbows, I felt my appearance was not too unkempt. His continued guffawing and the tears now rolling down his face forced my own mirth to surface and I bellowed away with him, deep and resonant chortling roiling over the top of his laughter. Light fittings jingled and crystal ware in an adjacent display case chinked away with us, until I realised he had ceased and was staring at me intently.
My laughter died. ‘There is a problem?’
‘You’re bloody tall, you’re bloody skinny, but that’s one hell of a voice you have’ he smiled. ‘God, I haven’t laughed like that for ages – come on, hook into the pizza,’ and he sat down at the head of the table. ‘Sit, um, what’s your name anyway?’
I pulled out a chair and as my knees would not fit under, I sat back away from the table. He briefly laughed again at that and I was becoming happier by the minute with my choice.
‘Zoltan’ I informed him, then even though I already knew, there was a certain pretence to maintain so I asked, ‘and you?’
He reached out a hand which I grasped, careful to be gentle and not crush his delicate human fingers.
‘Evan. Welcome to my home.’
He picked up a pizza box. I had never eaten pizza so presented and was concerned that it might taste similarly to the box. Taking his lead I delved in and selected a piece and after a tentative taste was pleasantly surprised with my first mouthful.
‘Mmm, good, excellent’ I nodded at him as a streak of molten cheese dangled from my hairy chin.
No other words were exchanged as we ate ravenously and it was painfully evident how Evan got so portly! He eyed off the last piece in my box but when I offered it to him, he shook his head. His charity was never ending so I insisted and rubbed my stomach to show him I was sated. In truth, I could have consumed another three or four whole pizzas.
‘Thank you Evan.’
‘Wuffor?’
‘Your hospitality. Your kindness. Your concern. Everything.’
‘S ‘right’, he swallowed his final mouthful looking a little sheepish.
‘I’d be even more grateful if you would let me reward, repay you.’
‘Of course,