disciple (ch. 20)
by Tom Stuckey
20
Things really were moving along swimmingly, Sandra looked up from her knees with a doubly surprised look, as I realised that I had said these words out-loud, but it wasn’t completely out of context as she fought past her gag reflex to improve the experience for me. She was, it must be said, the best at what she did. I thought about this as she worked, and it was work; we had formed a supply and demand system whereby I would get her cigarettes and she would provide me with her services. Sandra had not yet figured out that a new admission had smuggled in the cigarettes, and that I was getting them from him, and until that happened our agreement was solid. We were in a volatile market that was not unlike any other, and I felt some shame at the fact I was manipulating the market somewhat. The saving grace was that in here there was largely no inhibitions, alas we were free to be every dark cringing part of ourselves, the system had granted us freedom in their ward of our inability to make the right choices. It was quite interesting, and probably something someone could write a thesis on: Madness the only real way to escape Morality’s Prison. She really had a technique quite advanced, she oscillated her tongue on the underside of my gland, whilst clamping her lips over the heads ridge. I finished in her mouth as a thought rose from the deep, Disgusting, You will never be good enough for love. “Do you believe in Love Sandra?” She looked worried at the thought. “No,” she replied. “But how can you not?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Because birds don’t understand what cages are.” and pulled her top back down and walked out.
Another new member of our institution was a young androgenous person, a new gen patient, and seemed locked in a electronically created hell. They really were like a character from the film The Matrix, where the sky had been scorched and all that they knew to be real was the machines that were both their enemy and their saviours. All this made sense to them as a system, a machine that had been hunting them since their birth, they were born onto a screen and it had looked at them every step of the way; they trusted no one, and had very little sense of Self, outside of its blinding glare. They looked at the TV and did not look away as their mother left, crying with so many confusing thoughts running through her mind.
I was in danger of being released soon, if things stayed the same, beds were very precious objects here. The news was on the T.V. and it was showing the naval ships in the Strait of Hormuz. We were watching preluding scenes of War, and the different colours of the flags on the various vessels made it feel catastrophically worldly. Things seemed to be perpetually moving in terms of WAR, whilst we all stood still and watched from the outer reaches of nowhere. The moors were as quiet as ever, except for a few screams at night and the deadly quiet wolves that hunted always. I thought it would be best if I showed myself to be useful, so went over to the nurses and made a suggestion that we put on a play, I offered to write it and direct it. My offer was excepted. I went back to the group who were all watching the news and switched off the T.V.
“Hi everyone, I thought it would be best to do something different, I have asked if we can put on a play, so how’s about it?” The room was still and morose, but Billy surprisingly kicked in some enthusiasm and Clive quickly came in behind him.
“Yes we could do a remake of Midsummers Night’s Dream.” He looked for backing but I feared no one knew of this play here so helped him out.
“Good idea but I thought that it would be fun to put our own spin on Harry Potter?” The room was more receptive to this, particularly Sandra, who started to quote Miss Granger.
“OK, I’ll go and work on it and tomorrow we will start work on it.
Back in my room I could hear some bustle of activity and felt good at my ability to do something for others, and began to write the script.
The title would be changed to Stanley Potter, (Billy to play Stanley); a teen boy fighting to free himself of the street gangs violence when he befriends a big giant shaman who is buying psychedelics from him, but seeing his plight offers to transport him to the moors where there is a man they call the Wizard. The Wizard through innovative use of psychedelics and Transcendental meditation has found a way to move beyond the dark forces of the world, and into another consciousness. Voldemort the leader of the street gangs (to be played by the new person, I don’t know their name) sets off to hunt and kill Stanley as an example of their control and reach over their domain, and to prove there is no salvation in holistic measures, only darkness. Sandra can play a slutty version of Humani, I’m sure she will love that, and causes havoc within the compound of the Retreat. Clive can play the close friend of Stanley. George can play the Wizard. The use of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in the original films was a nice touch I thought so we will make a more widespread use of their music, as there is no copyright laws with such a small production such as this. The theme would remain as Potters battle with the light and dark forces, and is played out by the hypocrisy of The Wizard buying the drugs from Voldemort in order to gain a higher consciousness. Screams from the communal area broke my thought stream and reminded me I was far away from sense, but then sense was the biggest of lies, and when you realised this, life did seem interesting.
Photo of Tom Stuckey
BIO: Tom is a writer from Devon in England. His work can be found at A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Bristol Noir, Nut House Press, and Pulp Magazine. He is the author of The Canary in the Dream is Dead and The Sun Marches upon Us All. Learn more about Tom Stuckey at www.tomstuckey.com.