Strange Aeons [Book 1]

22. Mi Casa es Su Pollos [part III]

«I'm most certainly not telling them about the chair!» shouted Garaham, with a sudden change of mood. He looked something unusual: embarrassed.

«Ok, I'll tell them about the chair.» announced River.

«Not in a million times! If mention of those disgraceful events has to be shared with everyone just so you will all be able to laugh at my expenses, I would be the one to manage the narration, to be sure no details be spared for the audience to judge!» Garaham exploded, and then he put down the fork, cleared his voice, took away the napkin from his knees, put it beside his, empty, plate and started narrating to the waiting public.

«I was eleven and River just eight. It was quite a normal day. I had spent in the farms most of my summers, and I would have much preferred to commit my time to some useful kind of activity, like deepen my knowledge and control of Magic that I, and him, had already developed, or increase my personal culture by engaging in some constructive enterprise, like theatre or musical concerts. But, no, of course, "kids must spend time in the open air", my parents said. So, my only hope for an enlightening afternoon was to sneak in my summer bag as many books as possible and try to reach a sort of compromise where I would stay in the open air, but reading.»

«Man, you're wordy.» whined River. «come to the good part! The one with me!»

«Shut up, you deranged oaf!» snapped Garaham. Then cleared his throat again. He surprised himself in discovering he wasn't as uneasy as he thought he would be, telling secrets of his childhood to this heterogeneous mass of people. «River, on the other hand, and as you could all well imagine, was quite the contrary, to my contempt. He loved spending time outside, with the animals who clearly matched his brain functions and whose company put him at ease, finally finding himself with his peers. Yes, I'm insulting you.» Garaham didn't even let him interrupt.

«One of his damned favorite pastimes was to morph into one of the farm's animals and torment me, quite sure I would have never adopted violent solutions against what could as well have been an innocent, playful beast, unaware of my distaste for my situation. Such an annoyance he was, I learned how to Dispel a single spell on someone by the age of eleven, that fateful summer indeed.»

«So, on the fourth day of that damned July, I had found some peace and solace, sitting on the rocking chair on my grandparent's porch with a very interesting essay about the Seven Majestic Forces, entry-level but still enjoyable, when a horse came running from the stables. It played some tricks in the mud in front of the porch. It had rained the day before, a detail I forgot to mention, and it just ran happily around.»

«Now, I've never been an animal person, but that warned me: what had that bloody beast to be so happy about? So, when it approached me, as I was desperately trying to ignore it, and started munching my hair with the utmost disrespect for my privacy, not to mention good manners, I was sure: I dispelled it.»

«Aw, River, you're too obvious sometimes.» laughed Chico.

«I wasn't finished.» growled Garaham. «I dispelled the damned horse, with the only result to having it look at me in the most puzzled and stupid way an animal could look at a person. While I was thinking that, truly, there is a reason why men are atop the food chain, what happens? That the damned rocking chair under me goes "tee hee hee" and I find myself violently ejected forward, right in the mud, book and all.» he gritted his teeth. «The pinhead oaf had learned how to morph into inanimate objects.»

A moment of silence fell around the table.

«Isn't it, like, very very difficult?» asked Irissa, who was the only one who wasn't desperately trying not to burst out laughing. «Inanimate objects are, like, the top-notch of polymorph, and not even all the mages could achieve them during their life...»