Back to Marra's POV:-
What a place.
Bubbles that fly downwards. Sky that has four moons. Suit of armors behaving like live men. (We even saw this one shop, which sold oil so that their chains don’t rust.)
And spirits. By golly, is there a plethora of spirits.
Only I can see them, of course. But in the name of Count Drac, I never saw such peculiar spirits in my twelve-year-old life. Not where I lived.
Here spirits reminded me of Jar-Jar-Binks and one of those closet monsters you always imagined when you were four. And they were everywhere. Literally. The whole town was swarming with them.
In fact, just moments ago, I went to the washroom and I heard this hiss behind me while I sat on the can, doing my business. That alone should have tipped me off. Once I was done, I got up and realized the spirit of a bespectacled elderly woman reading a newspaper that was as translucent as her (wait, how can a newspaper be a spirit? Wow, I’m learning a lot) just staring at me with her long-dead burnished eyes.
She pulled her intangible specs down to her nose and cackled a standard old-woman-laugh mixed with the habitual spirit-hiss. ‘Peeping Tom,' she croaked, and went back to reading the paper.
Like, excuse me, woman? You’re the one who creeped up into the loo, looking at me emptying my system.
You didn’t need to hear that, but it’s nice getting stuff off my chest.
Perhaps this incident may repeat itself with you, so watch out for these spirit creeps next time you go to the loo. Then again, it’s probably happened a hundred times and you haven’t notices because – cough, cough – you can’t see spirits, can you?
Good for you. Then again, not so much.
Anyway, right now, we're on the streets of Lakoswa-boggle-globble-whatchamallik.
(What is it, Bee? Lako – Lakoswanion, right, right. I’ll remember that. For sure.)
I’d like to meet the person who named this city. What a madcap soul, he/she must’ve been.
The place itself is no less mad, as I’m sure Aar must have mentioned. If not – well, learn to put two and two together, you know.
Oh, and a while back, we met this vendor selling really attractive-looking fruits. So we asked for samples first, and we tasted the best-looking fruit he had – and guess what? It tasted like sand. Literal sand. Ugh, worst fruit experience of my life.
If I were born here, I’d hate fruits even more than I already hate vegetables.
No one here is willing to tell us where we can find the Coven Thirteen. Everyone loses their tongue soon as they hear the name. The fear is real, then, I guess. But we desperately need to find someone who can tell us, because Mr. Om is totally lost now.
Still, not everything is bad, I guess.
The sky is pretty cool to look at. Especially the four moons lined up one behind the other like first-graders craning their necks to meet the magician. (Not my best analogy, but soccer-players don’t always hit homeruns, do they?) Still, yeah, beautiful it was. Es wanted to float up there to touch the moon(s), but I guess she can’t fly that high in Lakoswa-boggle-globble-whatchamallik's atmosphere. I don’t know, Es and her anomalies.
Also, the clouds here are simply terrific to look at. One of them is shaped like a booster spewing fire into the solar system (if this place has one, that is).
(Alright, that’ll be enough, Es. Ugh, okay, fine.)
So Es wants me to tell you that she thinks one of the clouds is shaped like a cowboy shooting a rifle. And now she’s making the worst, most annoying 'pew-pew' noise effects with her mouth.
(Side-note: no cloud here is shaped that way. Either that, or my eyes have cataract.)
So as I said, Lakoswa-boggle-gobble-whatchamallik is a highly –
‘What is it, Aar?’ I say, annoyed.
You see, he just started tugging at my sleeves. And, measly as he may be – have I told you we’re both both scrawnier than Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz? – his tugs are pretty strong.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he points one shaky finger at a humble-looking shop-front.
And my lower jaw forgets it’s supposed to stick with the maxilla. Also, my mouth waters.
Bee hasn’t stopped yet, so both me and Aar tug at her either side until she finally looks at the store. She is speechless as well.
It’s a sweetshop unlike any other.
Unlike no other indeed.
Me: what's the answer to the universe?
Also me: 69