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Last summer, my family and I performed in New York. Before we arrived, even if I wasn’t reading volumes of True Psychic Tales under the covers, I couldn’t sleep a wink! Instead of sleeping, my siblings and I stayed up talking. Well, almost all my siblings. Frazie would bury her head underneath her pillow. We talked until Dad would stumble into our caravan with heavy eyelids. Our imaginations went wild with skyscrapers, a sea of people and taxis, and endless lights.
On that fateful morning, I was the first one awake. Dressed in my sweater, jacket, hat, and goggles, I was ready to see the center of the universe. At the crack of dawn, we hurried up to the window and pressed our faces against the glass to see the skyline we had only seen in magazines. A vista of rolling forested mountains and a lake greeted us, with endless buildings and the ocean nowhere to be found. The sign we passed by read, ‘Welcome to the village of Lake George!’
Queepie was the first to break the silence. “A lake?”
“I thought we were going to the city,” Mirtala said. A collective sigh rumbled between us. Mirtala walked back to her bed and flopped over. She wormed her face into the fur of her stitched up stuffed cat. “Wake me up when we see the green statue.”
“There’s one here.” Dion tugged at my sweater. I rolled my eyes and slapped his hand away. He let go, but not without shooting back a smile.
Frazie yawned. She turned over in bed to face us. “No city, huh?”
“Nope,” Dion replied.
The rumbling caravan came to a stop. There were three quick raps at the door, and then Dad came in. He scanned the room.
“Razputin, since you’re dressed, can you give me a hand?”
There was nothing better to do now. I followed him outside and helped him with setup for the performances. A few hours later, Frazie came out. She was dressed in a blue summer dress and a pair of tights.
“Hey Dad?”
“Yes, Frazie?” Dad looked up from working.
“Can I go into town?”
“I’m going too!” I piped up.
Frazie rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I guess my little brother could come too.”
Dad looked over to Mom. Mom nodded. Dad dug into his pocket, then pulled out a few crumpled-up bills. He handed me a twenty, and Frazie two.
“Be back by sundown.” Dad turned to Frazie. “And keep Razputin out of trouble.”
“Bet I can get there first!” I sprinted with my arms outstretched off the fairgrounds and down the sidewalk. A laugh rang out behind me, and another pair of frantic steps joined my own. “Oh no you don’t!” Frazie and I chased each other towards the main street.
Soon, I screeched to a stop. A few seconds later, Frazie came sprinting up beside me. As I caught my breath, I looked around. Restaurants and novelty shops lined the street. People wearing fancy city clothes wandered about. Though there were plenty of people, this town was a mouse compared to the concrete jungle of skyscrapers, unfamiliar faces, and honking cars in my dreams for the past week. Upon seeing the look on my face, Frazie ruffled the lock of hair peeking from my pilot cap.
“I know, it’s not the Big Apple. I just figured we could make the most of it, y’know?”
I nodded my head. Running under the blazing sun had stolen my voice. We began to walk down the street together. Frazie let out an exasperated whew.
“I’m melting in this heat. And from the looks of it, you are too.”
I managed to muster up a ‘yeah’.
Frazie stopped and turned, looking for something. When she walked into a tucked away path, I stood in silence on the sidewalk for a few seconds before following her. Frazie blinked.
“Man, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?” She laughed. “Why don’t you take a look at the sign?”
I lifted my head to read the sign above the little shop. When I saw the sign, I bounced up to the counter. Malamute Ice Cream.
Standing on my tiptoes, I eyed the selections scrawled up on the chalkboard. They had the standard flavors - vanilla, chocolate, vanilla-chocolate swirl. Then, there were flavors I had never heard of. Pralines & Cream, Tagalong, Rum Truffle? Was a Tagalong a sort of fruit? We didn’t have fancy flavors back at the circus.
“Can I get a scoop of banana split?” Frazie asked the employee behind the counter.
Frazie’s eyes blinked down to look at me, and then back to the employee.
“And a scoop of mocha Oreo, for Razzy.”
I bounced up and down. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a chance to taste the delicious blend of chocolate, coffee, and cream. We got our ice cream, Frazie paid, and we continued down the shady path.
“Frazie! You remembered!”
“How could I forget? Annoying as you may be, you’re still my little brother.”
Frazie reached down and pinched my cheek. I tried to squirm away. She giggled.
“I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”
As we walked and savored our ice cream, we took a flight of stairs down to the waterfront. Long shadows cast from the buildings overlooking the shore shielded us from the sun. Unfortunately, the mix of shade and a frozen treat didn’t release the heat’s grip on my brain.
“Man, I’m still sweating bullets!”
“I don’t know what you expected wearing a sweater in July, Razzy.”
“Let’s get out of the heat.”
Frazie looked at the storefronts surrounding us. “Where? Looks like it’s all restaurants around here.”
My eye spotted a storefront that didn’t say Cafe, Buffet, or Seafood. Above the doors, in fancy letters read Banjo’s Oddities and Curios. The building it was a part of was a bit taller than the surrounding buildings, casting a longer, darker shadow. Frazie raised an eyebrow and shrugged. We ate the last of our cones, then headed inside.
A bell tied to the inside handle rang out when we walked in. Warm orange light from uncovered lightbulbs filled the room. The smell of old books covered in a layer of dust and half-melted lavender candles floated through the air. There was a wooden desk, with no one behind it. Behind the desk were bookshelves forming a tight maze. The shelves were overflowing, lined with rows of colorful plastic bins to hold excess. There were lamps, clocks, statues, stuffed animals, books, paintings, figurines, jewelry, mugs, purses, toys, posters, china, globes, compasses, calculators, generators, matching salt and pepper shakers.
A deep voice bellowed from the depths of the store. “Oh, sorry! Some new shipments came in today!” Around a corner came a barrel-chested fellow with a lion’s mane for a beard. A large coat draped down to his ankles. He towered over Frazie, who towered over me. Brown eyes poking through his dark beard and hair peered down at us.
“Ah, children! Call me Banjo.”
“I’m sixteen,” Frazie replied.
From the depths of Banjo’s stomach and through his beard came a deep chuckle.
“What brings you to the great Adirondacks and my little shop?”
“We’re with the circus! My name is Raz-” I took a small bow. “-and this is Frazie!”
“Well, have a look around! Don’t be shy! I have gimcracks, kickshaws, and folderols from all around the world!” His voice was the rumble of thunder between the tight walls. I didn’t know what any of the things he said he had could be. I looked over at Frazie. Some of the color in her face had disappeared. I figured it must have been from the heat outside. She could cool off in here. I took Frazie’s hand and tugged it. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, we walked down one of the hallways.
I peered at the odds and ends lining the shelves, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A small book caught my eye, sandwiched between a stained-glass lamp and a colorful ceramic orb. The book’s cover was black, dotted with hundreds of tiny painted stars. Printed in white letters: An Abridged Fieldbook to Minds and Mentality.
In a heartbeat, I snatched the book and flipped through the pages. I had seen this book before - well, that is, in True Psychic Tales Number 74. Written by Helmut Fullbear a few months after the founding of the Psychonauts, it was his original guide to exploring mental worlds. In the years afterward, forgeries of the book appeared on store shelves. I had to make sure this was the real deal. I turned the book to the back cover. Etched on the back cover was an outline of a brain. Below it, in letters that I had to squint to read: Property of the Psychonauts, 1963. The letters glittered purple in the light from a hidden layer of Psitanium. This was original Psychonauts memorabilia! I turned around to show Frazie.
She was facing a shelf, flipping through a leather-bound tome with crinkled yellow pages. I stood up on my tiptoes to peek inside. There were symbols I had never seen in my life. Was an ancient book of spells? Was Frazie a witch? Were psychics also witches? Once we got back home, I would have to ask her to teach me some of her favorite spells. (As it turns out, psychics and witches are two different things.)
Despite making myself as tall as possible to look over Frazie’s shoulder, she didn’t turn her head. Is she ignoring me? I asked myself. Is this some sort of game? I decided to press my luck. I took a single step, touching my foot against the floor as light as a feather. The floorboard underneath me let out a loud creak that echoed through the hall. Frazie didn’t look up. I took another step. Frazie still didn’t look up. Was I home free...? Continuing to tiptoe, I crept around a corner of a shelf until I was out of sight. I braced myself for an annoyed ‘Raaaz?’. Not a single word came from her. Freedom! Freedom at last!
Clutching the Psychonauts book to my chest, I explored the depths of the store to see if there were any more treasures hidden within. As I made my way down the hall, the lights above became dimmer. At the end of the hall was a thick door held on large metal hinges. ‘Staff only! Keep out!’, the door sign screamed. The door swung open, and out came Banjo. He had a cardboard box covered with dozens of labels under his left arm.
“What can I help you with, son?”
“Do you have anything else related to psychics?”
“Well, nothing like that book you found came in on this shipment. But I do have something else that you might find interesting.”
“What is it?”
Banjo set down the cardboard box between us and crouched onto his knees. He dug his hands inside. Packing peanuts crinkled as he pawed through the inside. After a moment, he pulled the contents out and freed it from its bubble wrap prison. In his hands was a dark wooden puzzle box, twice the size of a large onion. Each side had colorful gears, knobs, levers, and more protruding and embedded into it. The parts were carved into the shape of the sun, moon, stars, and flowers. Etched across the box were symbols like the one I saw in the book Frazie was going through.
“The Fiamberti Configuration. From what the seller told me, a brilliant engineer created this in the sixties. It was one of his last creations before he vanished. Don’t know if he’s being exactly truthful about that. The man who sold this is a strange fellow.”
Banjo outstretched his hand towards me. I set the book down, took the box into my hands, and turned it around. The wood was smooth and worn. Touching the tips of my fingers was a slight warmth, like the one of a small animal. My eyes followed curving paths on the grooves and mechanisms. With one finger, I traced out the paths. The craftsmanship of the box trapped my thoughts like glue.
From inside the box came a faint gurgling sound. I held the box up against my ear and shook it. It responded with the sounds of sloshing and bubbling, louder than before. It didn’t sound like water.
I had to fight to tear my vision away from the box to look back to Banjo. If the outside of this puzzle was so captivating, what could it hold inside?
Banjo smiled when he saw the look on my face. “Curious little thing, isn’t it? I’ve never had much luck with puzzles.”
“I’m great at puzzles!”
“Perhaps you would be able to solve it?”
“Do you know what’s inside?”
Banjo laughed. “Not the faintest idea. You’ll just have to find out!”
“Raaaz? Raz, where are you?”
Frazie’s footsteps approached us, getting louder with each step. Banjo placed a leathery hand on my shoulder. He smiled. “It’s yours,” he mouthed to me. I nodded and slipped the box into my backpack. Moments later, Frazie came around the corner. She held a glittering necklace in one hand.
“Did you find anything interesting?”
“I found an original copy of An Abridged Field Book to Minds and Mentality! Look!” I picked up the book and held it out. She looked to Banjo, then to me, then back to Banjo. Her nostrils flared.
“Just pay you upfront, right?”
“Mhm.”
Frazie turned around and led me back to the front of the shop. Banjo picked up the cardboard box and followed behind us. In the thin corridors, his shadow loomed over us. Between two fingers, Frazie fidgeted with her hair. Her head was slightly bowed.
Soon, we reached the front desk. Banjo went behind the desk and typed into a computer that looked older than me. We handed our bills to him. When Frazie handed Banjo the money for the necklace, she kept her head lowered. A few keyboard click-clacks and the ding of a register later, Banjo handed us our change.
“Thank you for coming in, friends!” Banjo handed Frazie the receipt. “I’ll have to catch your show sometime soon!”
She took the receipt, crumpled it up in one hand, and stuffed it into her dress pocket without looking.
“Let’s go, Raz.”
Frazie snatched my hand and yanked me through the doors. Before the door closed behind me, I looked back into the shop. Banjo gave me a smile and a wink. I blinked. He had vanished. The door slammed shut, and an icy breeze ruffled my jacket. I slid the book into my backpack, placing it next to the puzzle box.
“Make sure Dad doesn’t see that book.”
“Frazie? Are you okay?”
Frazie swallowed her spit. After a moment, she sighed. There was a frown on her face.
“It’s… just my imagination, Raz.”
“What are you imagining?”
“Nothing important. Let’s go.”
We started to walk back to the fairgrounds. Frazie didn’t say much on the way back and dragged her feet behind her as we walked. At first, I thought the heat had stolen her voice like mine. Yet, she wasn’t sweating one bit. Her eyes were blinking a bit faster than usual. What had caught her tongue?
When we got home, Mom was still outside, putting up decorations. She greeted us with a smile and a small wave.
“Your father is about done cooking. Did you two have a nice time?”
“Fantastic! We got ice cream and explored for cool stuff at a weird store!”
“It was nice, Mom.”
“Well, you two should probably- my. What is that stench?”
From my backpack came the scent of oil and wet Playdough. A couple of months ago, Mom chewed Dion out after she caught him sneaking gross stuff into our bags.
“Must be your older brother again… Speaking of, where is Dion?”
“Probably getting in trouble again, Mom.”
Mom sighed. “I’ll go look for him after dinner. You two head inside. I’ll be there in a moment.”
I made a mental note to myself to check my backpack after dinner. Frazie and I headed inside the common caravan and took our seats. Mirtala and Queepie were already at the table. Dinner tonight was Manhattan clam chowder.
“So what did you do today, Mirtala?” Frazie asked.
“After helping Mom out, she took me to the arcade! I won a bunch of toys.” She smiled.
“Daddy? Can I help after dinner?” Queepie asked Dad.
“Of course you can, sweetheart.”
Midway through chowing down, a security guy came in. He had a furrowed brow, and his head was slightly tilted downwards.
“Augustus, sir? I apologize for the interruption. Someone wants to talk to your son.”
Dad got up from his seat. “They can talk to me.” I held my tongue. Even Dion wouldn’t argue with Dad when his voice became cold. He walked out of the caravan. A few moments later, we heard a conversation. At first, the voices were only wordless rumblings. There was an annoyed tinge in Dad’s voice. As the voices grew louder, we strained our ears to make out what they were saying. Mixed with Dad’s voice was a rough rumbling much deeper than his; it could only be Banjo.
“...is dangerous. I need it back,” said Banjo.
“Please leave, sir. My children didn’t buy anything like that from you. You’re mixing them up with someone else.”
“No, it’s not-”
“Leave.”
“I need to talk to your son! Raz!” Banjo’s voice was the roar of a grizzly.
“Security!” The sound of Dad’s feet hitting the grass came inside as he fled. Even without seeing the scene outside, I knew that Dad trying to take on Banjo would be akin to fighting the dancing bear.
A fist pounded against the door. The floor beneath us rumbled as if an earthquake had struck. Silverware, plates, and bowls rattled. Everyone jumped in their seats. Even Frazie screeched in terror.
“Raz!” Banjo yelled. “I- Get off me!”
Sounds of a struggle came from outside as security dragged Banjo away. A few minutes later, Dad came back inside. He let out a pent-up sigh.
“That man was certainly something else. Razputin? Do you know what he was talking about?”
“No.”
Dad sat back down, and we continued eating. Silence filled the air. An itch crawled up my back, causing me to shuffle in my seat. Mirtala looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I replied with a shrug and a blink; ‘I’ll tell you later.’ A screeching wail of a siren from outside broke the silence.
Mirtala looked to Mom. “What’s that alarm for?”
“The firefighters in towns around these parts are volunteers, dear. The siren tells them to get to the station.”
Once our bowls were empty, Mom gathered up our dishes. Queepie hopped out of his seat and scurried to Dad, jumping as high as his two little legs would let him. Dad laughed, took Queepie’s hand, and led him outside. After doing the dishes, Mom was the third to leave.
“You want to show me some of the toys you got from the arcade?” Frazie said as she got up from her chair.
“Yeah!! You’ll love the little robot dog I got!”
“Would you like to join us, Raz?,” Frazie asked.
“I’m going to catch up on some comics.”
Frazie shot me a wink as she put on her worn vinyl jacket. Then, she followed Mirtala outside. I headed out after they left and walked toward the bedroom caravan. Mom was adjusting her coat with one hand and waved at me with the other.
“Have fun. I’ll be back with Dion in a couple hours.”
I waved back, then went into the bedroom caravan. At this point in the evening, the sun had dipped below the mountains. A half-faded red glow spilled from a window into the caravan, but I had to turn the light on regardless. I took off my backpack, hung it over the back of the desk chair, and took the puzzle box out. The field guide would need to wait until after bedtime. I sat down in the desk chair and set the box in front of me.
“Time to crack you open like an egg.”
As it turns out, the puzzle box refused to give up its secrets so easily. After ten minutes, I pulled out my journal and a purple gel glitter pen. I jotted down notes; of the symbols, the way each part turned, slid, and twisted, what fit into what and what didn’t. The light from the window faded away as I took notes and experimented with the box. Slowly but surely, as I fiddled with the pieces, the box split and twisted apart more and more.
An hour or two into figuring out the puzzle, a sliding panel revealed a combination lock. Where numbers or letters were supposed to be, there was a series of symbols on the dials. How was I supposed to solve this? I took a look at the symbols engraved on the box, and then back to the lock. Some of the symbols on the dials matched those carved on the box.
I turned the dials to match the symbols that I found on the box. When I set the last dial, a gear in the shape of a flower popped further out. Curious, I toyed with the gear between my fingers. It no longer turned. Instead, I had to slide it through a groove in the box. Soon, it came to a stop in the center of one of the sides. I turned the gear between my fingers. A click of a handle rang out from inside. The hinges creaked, and the two halves of the box split apart as I opened it up to discover its prize. Except that there was no glittering bounty inside.
Surrounded by sharp wooden teeth lining the inside lids of the box was an open container of black slime. Opaque bubbles of various sizes gurgled on the surface. When the bubbles popped, they belched out the disgusting scent from earlier. The surface of the slime rose, surging towards the edges of the box. Not keen on getting my hands covered in goo, I set the open box down on the table. The slime continued to grow, spilling over the sides of the box and oozing out onto the table. I backed away but was unable to take my eyes off it. Its slow and slippery movement had caught my mind, like watching a slug slithering in the mud.
“What is this stuff?”
I had encountered slime toys before. When she was seven, Mirtala bought a can of neon green slime. She played with it until one of the dogs got into the can and ate it. However, slime that boiled like a mad scientist’s concoction was the stuff of late-night drive-in movies.
A single poke with a glove on couldn’t hurt, right?
I reached out a single finger from my right hand closer and closer, then gave the substance a quick jab. The slime had the consistency of melted bubblegum and the stickiness of flu snot. Fresh, yellow-green snot. It was warm, and I felt pulsating beneath my touch. A wet slorp came out of the slime as it squeezed between my finger and the surface of the table.
Despite my light touch, my finger was glued in place. I tugged with my wrist to free it from the slime. When that didn’t work, I pulled with my shoulder. My finger eventually came free, but a thick string stuck to the tip of my finger emerged from the slime. A pit at the bottom of my stomach, and I swallowed to try and keep it down. I wove my hand to get the string to break. The slime became tangled between my fingers and draped over my hand.
Through the hole on the back of my glove, the slime slid onto my skin. A tingling sensation crawled under my skin from where the slime touched. The sensation engulfed my hand, made its way through my arm, and up through my neck. I grabbed at the slime on my skin with my left hand to pull it off. Instead of coming off, the slime smeared and stretched between my hands, refusing to let go.
The tingling flooded my veins on my cheeks and made its way onto my forehead. There, it grew rhythmic, morphing into a pounding sensation above and between my eyes. I held my hand against my forehead. A blast of heat surged through my head from where my fingers touched. I yelped, and my hand shot away as if I had touched a hot stovetop.
Underneath where my hand was a moment ago, there was a soft, swollen lump. The mound was more painful than a black widow bite. The pit at the bottom of my stomach sank lower, and a shudder shot down my spine. Now aware of its presence, I could feel the mound growing, squeezing itself against my skull.
For a moment, the floor beneath me rocked in the waves of a storm. Sparkles flashed in my vision. Then, I could feel the growth moving, swiveling back and forth inside my head, and a thin layer of skin flickering up and down over it.
I had gained a third eye.
The room swayed back and forth. More eyes emerged from underneath my skin across my forehead. I could feel each one hollowing out skin and muscles to create sockets. Each pull, swell, and squeeze stacked on top of each other and burned through my nerves.
Holding the edge of the table with one hand, I tried to stand up. My legs trembled as a swelling pressure built inside my left foot. The muscles twisted themselves into a bundle of tight rubber bands. Then, there was a snap. Something growing from my foot ripped through the fabric of my shoe. My sense of balance gave out, and I fell to the floor.
The slime oozed over the edge of the desk, beaded into thick drops, and dripped onto me. Each slimy, sticky drop splattered and soaked through the fabric of my sweater and jacket. Goosebumps erupted across my skin.
I opened my mouth up to scream. Instead, silence fell on my ears. A weak cry escaping through my lips broke the silence. I trembled against the floor. My body was splitting apart into a corrupted reflection in the pieces of a shattered mirror. What would happen if I kept splitting apart?
Fighting through my thoughts, I tried to find the strength to get back on my feet. My body swayed on my mutated foot, but I managed to stay upright. I staggered towards the door, hobbling as quickly as I could in case I gained an extra leg or three that broke my balance.
Once I reached the door, I grabbed the doorknob and began to twist and push. At first, the doorknob refused to turn. Beneath my gloves on my fingertips and palms were misshapen lumps. They prevented me from getting a good grip on the handle. I didn’t dare try to take my gloves off to get a better grip. Instead, while trying to open the handle, I threw myself against the door. The door crashed and swung open. I took a brief tumble down the stairs and onto the grass.
A mix of moonlight and carnival lights cast a soft glow on everything. From a ways away, I heard Frazie and Mirtala giggling as they played with the toys Mirtala had won. Above me, the stars had come out, but my vision wasn’t stable enough to gaze up at them. I crawled around a corner and hid behind the side of the caravan facing the trees. The shadows cast from the forest obscured my twisted body.
Putting my hand up against the side of the caravan for stability and guidance through the dark, I limped towards Frazie and Mirtala’s voices. Normally, I would be able to get to them in moments. Now however, each moment was stretched out. My shaky breathing and slow footsteps counted every second ticking by. Blades of grass brushed against my skin as the growth from my left foot continued to force its way out of my shoe. The sound of my feet dragging against the leaves and grass caused Frazie and Mirtala’s playful laughter to stop.
“Is someone there?”
“Frazie?”
“Raz? What’s wrong?”
I could hear her heart sinking. I dipped my head so she wouldn’t scream.
“Help me,” I whimpered.
Frazie’s tentative footsteps approached me. I braced myself in place, trying to focus on the ground below me to block out my swirling thoughts. Her footsteps stopped. The yellow spotlight of a cheap plastic flashlight cut through the shadows and landed on me. There was a moment of hesitation.
“Raz… No, no...”
Frazie’s voice trailed off. Her hand came under my chin, guiding me to look up at her. When I did, I saw her staring at me with wide eyes. Her other hand was covering her mouth. Her body rattled, and tears welled up in her eyes.
“Fraz? Is everything alright with Raz?”
Frazie gulped. “Go help Dad or head inside.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t stutter.
“But I want to help Raz-”
“Mirtala, do as I say, not as I do.”
Mirtala left without another word.
Frazie took her jacket off, then buried her hands under it to improvise gloves. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to find a place to begin.
“I… Let’s get this stuff off of you. Give me your hands.”
I held out my hands, and Frazie reached out. The shiny outer layer of the jacket was her only line of defense from the slime. She grabbed my slime-covered gloves the best that she could manage, then yanked. My gloves came off, and we found ourselves face to face with another new ‘feature’ of my body.
My fingers and nails had split in half. The cuts started from my fingertips and went halfway down the length of my fingers. Skin covered up where copious amounts of blood should be gushing from. The ends of the growths curled into spirals, and new nails grew on the tips. Free from the confines of my gloves, I instinctively wiggled my fingers. Each growth moved independently of one another like real limbs. Frazie leaped in her skin and dropped her jacket and the gloves.
“What the fuck is happening?!”
I could hear pounding in Frazie’s ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Careful to avoid touching the sleeve of my jacket or sweater, she grabbed one of my ten-fingered hands. She led me outside the shadows of the trees behind the caravan.
I didn’t have time to wonder where she was taking me. Moments after we left my hiding spot, a blast of cold water hit me with the force of a kick to the stomach, forcing out a screech. Frazie spun on her foot to face the direction the water came from.
Standing in front of us once again was Banjo. He had replaced his winter’s coat with a bright orange jacket, with his long hair buried beneath a plastic yellow helmet. His hands were covered with a pair of heavy-duty gloves, holding a hose dripping with water.
“What- what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Frazie yelled.
“I’m washing all this mutation gunk off him.” Banjo brandished the hose. “Stand back!”
“No! You’re going to kill him!”
Banjo raised his eyebrows. “What are you on about?”
“You set us up, didn’t you?”
The hose fell out of Banjo’s hands, followed by a loud thud. The boom in his voice vanished.
“What… Why on earth would I kill an innocent child?”
“Frazie, I feel better.”
Frazie turned to me and gasped. The cool water caused the pain to fade away. My extra eyes lost form, shank in size, and melded back into my forehead. My split fingers fused back together. The growth coming out of my foot retreated into my skin and shoe.
Frazie’s shoulders went slack and she let out a sigh of relief. She reached towards me with open arms. I reached back towards her. Before she embraced me, her eyes fell on my hands. Her breath stolen away, she gasped and shuddered. I raised my hand to look at the back of my palm to see what she had seen, and my eyes went wide.
My skin had begun to boil. The bubbles filled with pus, turned white, and gained irises and pupils. New eyes tore through my sweater, jacket and pants as they emerged on my chest, arms and legs.
My fingers peeled apart like paper being ripped in half. The new cuts made their way down onto the palms of my hands.
The growth came back as a fully grown foot, tearing my left shoe to shreds. It pulled apart from my left foot as a third leg emerged. Sharp cracks of the bones in my foot and leg breaking apart filled the air.
The pain also surged back, shredding my nerves apart and burning them to a crisp. A scream erupted from my throat.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!!”
Another blast of water hit me. This time, the mutations fought back. My third leg slung my body forward, and the extra eyes focused on Banjo. I twisted and dug my right foot into the ground to anchor myself. My twenty fingers and my third foot started to drag me through the dirt towards Banjo. While the water caused the fingers and eyes to become smaller at first, they resisted and the shrinking soon stopped. The water pressure grew stronger to keep my body at bay. Frazie backed away from me.
“We need more water!” Frazie said.
“Any stronger will tear Raz apart,” Banjo replied.
From afar echoed a screech from Mirtala. She came running towards us.
“Why is our room flooded with… I don’t know?”
Mirtala’s eyes fell on the scene before her. The color drained from her face, her breath went still, and her eyes glazed over. She was a deer caught in the headlights of a runaway train.
With the two eyes that I could control, I looked towards our bedroom caravan. The slime was pouring out the door and over the steps. “The… the box is in our bedroom.” I choked on my own words. Something had begun to grow inside my throat, slowly forcing its way up and out.
“Of course!” Banjo shut off the hose and ran into our bedroom caravan. For a moment, the caravan shook from his footsteps. Then, he came out. Held in his rubber gloves was the puzzle box. Slime covered the box, its shape being the only way to tell what it was. He forced the box shut; for a moment, I wondered if he could crush it between his hands.
With all his might, Banjo hurled the box across the fairgrounds and into the lake. It spun through the air as it flew, then hit the surface of the water with a thunderous splash. For a moment, the box bobbed on the surface. A hail of tiny bubbles burst around it as water flooded the inside. Then, the box sank into the depths of the lake, disappearing into the dark waters.
The shock of ice-cold water flooded my veins. The slime became thinner in seconds and dripped off my body. My fingers fused back together. The third foot and extra eyes melted away, mixing with the slick slime. Banjo hit me with a final shower of water, spraying the putrid mixture off me. My now ragged sweater and jacket clung to my skin, causing a shiver to shoot through me. But compared to the feeling of being shredded apart in two, the feeling of damp fabric was a blessing. Frazie ran up to me and grabbed me by my shoulders.
Mirtala broke out of her trance. “Fraz, don’t-”
“Raz?” Frazie shook me by my shoulders. Her eyes were still wide. “Raz, answer me!”
The rattling flipped my already knotted stomach upside down. The only answer I was able to muster up was vomit. Acid burned into my throat and nostrils, and the bitter sting of bile coated the inside of my mouth. It was a soft kiss of normalcy, a reassurance that I was still me. I stumbled backward and collapsed into water-soaked grass.
“It’s gone.” The two words rattled around on my tongue and in my skull. I pulled my knees up to my chest, not bothering to get up from the ground. “It’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone…”
Frazie scooped me up into her arms, pulling me close to her chest. Instead of trying to escape her touch, I went limp in her arms. The world spun and teetered back and forth. She choked between loud sobs. Her tears dripped onto my face. I had seen Frazie smile, laugh, and pinch my cheek. That fateful night was the first time I ever saw her cry.