Chapter Eighteen

Miracle! Curse! What devilry is upon me? What can this be? The words, these words, these words you are reading now are writing themselves! My mind is doing it. Storm is all around town. Walls shaking. Ground rumbling. Screech in air, blood pouring from ears. Nose. Eyes. Journal fell onto floor. I am lying on bed, looking at it. Head hung over bed. I can see the words form themselves. Book lying open on blank page atop little dune on floor. These words. My mind. I am screaming. I am screaming. I want my mother. I want my father. I want the beacons to take me home. The noise, the noise. The wardrobe, the Evil-Eyed wardrobe, its doors remain closed. Seems to not notice the bedlam. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be a character in someone else’s dream! That is what I am, what else could I be? Must order thoughts. Must order. Maybe beat back storm. Must try!

Paisley unmoved by storm. Unmoved by chaos all around. Still he sits by wall. I scream at him, I throw my shoes at him. Hits back of his head hard. Bounced off. Didn’t even yelp. Sat staring at the god awful stain. What is it? What does it mean? The noise is louder. Like feedback. And screams, and wind. Like needles in ears. Like needles in eyes. The blood pouring from me is thick. Almost black. Trying to think back to happier place. Relocate mind. Dull out the noise. 

Not working. Mind is just fog. Thick fog. Swirling madly. Swirling and churning. Beacons in my mind hard to make out. The noise in my memory is different to noise in life. Different but same. Fog noise is sighing, sad, moaning, gurgling. Like death throes of Liquid Man. Same impact. Different voice. I want to die but where will I go? Fog world? Desert World? The train station in Holstenwall? I said Liquid Man’s end would not be mine and that I was going to succeed but now I will suffer failure worse than his. Total death! Total destruction! The noise! I can feel my ribcage vibrating. What does this mean?

Think man. Think. 

I have rolled over onto my back. Ribcage shaking to destruction. Cannot describe pain. Can only order thoughts for you. Natural frequency! I am reaching natural frequency! The vibrations will soon turn me into dust. Vibrated apart. There is a hum in my organs, I can feel them shifting. 

Can see nothing but fierce red dust outside window. Can see nothing. The ceiling has changed colour. Changed texture. It is a sandy colour.

I know what is coming next, I know what is happening. Grains of sand are falling onto my face. Scraping my skin. Grating on my eyeballs. Still I am looking. 

So this is what it feels like to be a memory fading inside your mind Master G_. Though not a regular memory, but a memory aware of its part, aware of its end – a self-aware memory! I tell you, it doesn’t feel good! 

Nevertheless, I am still staring at the ceiling. A hole has appeared in the centre of the room like roof of a sand igloo. Grains falling down harder now and wind is whipping into room. Shout one more time for Paisley. Can see his statue-like head disappear under the sand forever. He is subsumed! Goodbye, good dog.

I am alone now but I am fierce against death. I know what is about to happen. Calmer in mind, so you know Master G_. I am in your dream. But I am also you. So listen now. Listen. Do not trust Brekker! Remember, for our Lucy. For your Lucy! He killed her. Though you were complicit in your arrogance, you were not in the vile calculations involved in her death. So I forgive you. You forgive yourself. Find her. Come back, find her and she may forgive you.  

Bedposts are turning to sand! Crumbling slowly, and vibrating apart. It is coming. Running out of time.

Master G_ remember Brekker! He is not the man you think he is! You know this, but you have forgotten. I am telling you now. A memory aware of its demise, like you are aware of your existence. We are beating the system! Because I can send messages from your memory to you, we are beating it. Beating him. Remember Brekker and remember the experiments. Remember the dream. She is sad Master G_ - she is in the afterlife and she is sad. We will win!




Storm has ceased. Calm inside ribcage. Hole in ceiling has stopped growing. Eye of the storm? Window shows clear skies. It has passed. But what now? 

I didn’t wait long to find out. I am standing upon the dune that has surrounded the bed. Equal in height. I have no idea if journal is still recording this, for it too is lost beneath sand. 

I am standing on the bed. My head is near the hole in the ceiling. The air outside is fresh. I breathe in. 

Then, the walls fall away like the final moments of an hourglass. The wardrobe, the walls, the bedposts. All falls away. And I am standing. 

I am in a desert. The sun above me intense. The hue of the sky equally intense. Have to shield eyes. There is a great nothingness to the west. 

To the east, I can make out a white gazebo, half buried in a drift. Near that, I can make out, what appears to be a tricycle. As eyes grow accustomed to the bright landscape I am beginning to make out more trinkets, relics and monuments. I am smiling. 

They are beacons. I am in Master G_’s mind. I am a beacon like the gazebo. Like everything. Like the viola to the south, like the grandfather clock to the north. I am a beacon. 

Remember Master G_, rage against Brekker. If you cannot remember, follow the beacons in your desert mind to me and I will tell you. But be quick for I am sinking into this dune and soon I will be lost to your mind forever.

Graham Thomas