3. The night in which the pursuit of oblivion is interrupted by a visitor

∘₊✧───≋❈3❈≋───✧₊∘

The night in which the pursuit of oblivion is interrupted by a visitor

∘₊✧───≋❈≋───✧₊∘

Kally sighed; this time a sigh of relief, enjoying the contentedness of a fine swig of beer. It is amazing how different a sigh can feel. This one was light and breezy, warm but not stifling as before, and seemed to originate from either the gut or her feet.

She was unsure which.

Wherever it came from, it resonated within her and created a sense of calm within. She needed this. She sighed again.

Bliss.

She took another intended full gulp but midway through, lurched forward, rounded, with a hard swallow shattering her tranquil state. Nothing lasts forever. She sighed in her trademark response. No point in savouring it anymore.

She chugged it until every drop had slid down her throat and warmed her insides. A slight glow to her green cheeks, like a child experimenting with lipstick as blush. She lifted her glass higher, the froth still clinging to the rim. Her teeth, pearly white, formed a dazed smile. She brought the glass to the table with a satisfying hollow thud. “Next one, Karin,” she drawled, aware of the cliche but past the point of caring.

Karin was at the other side of the bar, taking an order from Kian. The same old order, the same old Kian. Kally kicked her foot against the bar, the other foot, impatiently and repeatedly, tick-like. The wooden panels of the bar were used to this treatment. Scuffed and beaten from her and others’ frustrations, luckily for Karin, they took the brunt of it.

Karin was aware of her mood, as always, and had heard her request. He sauntered over to her, beer in hand, with a wide grin plastered on his face. This had the effect of making him quite goofy looking, which conflicted somewhat with his harsh features.

Distinguished lines, angular, garnished his face. He leaned over the bar, goofy grin brandished at her, daring her to take umbrage. It had the effect he expected. Kally laughed. He’d served her long enough to know what to do. His bar had the same clientele most nights and he had grown to know them all.

Intricacies and all.

She shuffled, like a child caught out, and mumbled something he could not hear.

“Oh, nothing. Never mind,” she said, sipping.

≋❈≋

He leant against the wall to his left and surveyed the area. It was quieter than usual, only filled with the hardcore regulars. Magic must be high today. He had stopped checking the forecast these days; it was so rarely correct. Still, there were enough in to keep him occupied and in business.

He wondered why he had a faint sense of uneasiness tonight. He couldn’t quite shift this feeling, and his eyes kept on being drawn to a corner of the room that was never occupied. Deep in the shadows where the excess wood piles lay.

≋❈≋

“Karin.”

“Kally.”

She grimaced.

“Do you think it would be awful of me t— um, no, never mind. No.” She hesitated.

Karin stared. “Go on, it’s okay. Might be better to get it off your chest.”

“Um, maybe.” Kally still looked unsure and took another hearty swig of her drink. Butch courage, the old saying goes. Doesn’t it?

“Your choice,” Karin said, then quieter, “In my experience, sometimes just voicing it… helps.”

Kally hesitated again. “I’m not sure you’ll understand. It’s just a horrible thought I have.”

“You won’t know until you try me.”

Kally took another sip of her drink - that butch courage again - and stumbled over her point, “Do you think it would be awful of me, um, I mean, I’ve had these thoughts lately about, um you know…”

She motioned towards her toe, and then bowed her head. She took her head into her hands and would not look at Karin.

“Well, anyway, about her, would it be awful of me to, well, it sounds so harsh saying it out loud. So abominable. So detestable. Despicable, even. Maybe that’s my answer. Yes. It’s a no. I can’t do it. No.” She looked up, pursing her lips in a determined fashion. “I will carry on, as I am.”

Karin, feigning confusion at this point, scrunched his face and shook his head. “Glad I could help… with… whatever that was.”

Kally looked intently into her drink, finding patterns within the froth. Karin knew she was lost to the world for a while. Lost, like often, in her obsessive thoughts.

≋❈≋

Some time had passed. Kally was unsure how long. Two more pints in, possibly. Despair drinking, a time sink, and she sank deeper and deeper into her pints. She put her head down, inconspicuous, not there. Kian had stood up and was heading over her way. She sighed. Was this a conversation, or was he in need of, ahem, relief? The bar’s facilities were in her direction, after all.

A plonk of a body on the stool next to hers answered her question.

She turned to him, her world a blur. “And how are you, Kian, my dear?” She collected all her energy into this greeting, a forced friendly but friendly nonetheless.

He gushed, “Not bad, Kally. Not bad.”

Kally nodded and sat, content in the silence. Kian had come over to her; he should drive the conversation. He stumbled slightly, his execution off, obviously not well practised with conversational flow.

“How are y-y—you?” he stammered.

Kally laughed. A broken bell chiming. As if strangled within her throat.

“Not bad, Kian. Not bad.”

He just watched her. It was as if he was searching for something. “Same old, same old,” she expanded to herself as much as to him.

“Things will look up for us all, one of these days. The heroes will arrive.”

She laughed again. The optimism of some folks. “Yes, Kian. I guess they must arrive, someday.”

Kian beamed, assuming he had cheered her up. He headed towards the facilities and Kally realised she was a pit-stop before his relief.

Still, she was relieved also, though for a different reason.

≋❈≋

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She glanced at her toe again, or rather her boot, willing and wanting it to stay quiet. It was so unpredictable, like the children in her class. Oh, Marrow turning to beetroot! That had been a pain. Once the children had left, she put together the paperwork that needed sending off to Marrow’s doctor. She then spoke to Marrow’s father, explaining the situation and Marrow’s peculiar smell, hopefully, temporary. All because somebody left the window open or opened it.

She was aware of the others around her, the feeling of pins in her back as eyes, weary, watched her every mood. They watched as she sighed, fidgeted and, worst of all, looked at her foot. Their eyes were drawn to it each night. They were both drawn and repulsed by it. Even during the performances, there was a mix of repulsion and enthralment, each emotion vying for dominance.

Kally drowned out these looks with each gulp of beer. She noticed it less: when someone shuffles by and sidesteps further away from her, when voices are hushed but pointed, when the eyes are analysing her in a visual interrogation.

She should be slowing down tonight; that was what she had planned. This would be her last one and then she would head home. One last drink to savour.

≋❈≋

~ “Well, I think it’s ridiculous, personally.”

~ ”A damn shame. A damn indictment of the state of the kingdom.”

~ “Not sure what we can do about it though. It’s so set now.”

~ “Nothing is set. Magic makes sure of that.”

Knowing nods all round.

~ ”She’s so, well, I’m just going to say it… ignorant,” and then the reply, “Yeah, I can’t stand rudeness.”

~ “Despicable, I tell you.”

~ “She is in no state,” a quick laugh, and the retort, “Everything about her is a state.”

~ “No need to get vicious,” a quip, “Oh, I didn’t realise you cared?”

~ “I don’t. It just devalues our points if we get caught up in personal feelings. Don’t you agree?”

Eyes roll.

~ “She should not be holed up in here most, if not all, evenings, drinking herself to a stupor, and then teaching children in the morning. It’s not right, I tell you.”

~ “I don’t mind the drink so much, personally. We all have our vices. Especially in these times.”

~ “Oh?”

~ “Yeah, I’m just going to say it. It’s the toe I can’t get past.”

Not even a batting of an eyelid.

~ “That toe, hush, it might hear us.”

~ “Ah, let it hear, what’s it going to do? Kick us?”

A cackle.

~ “Bet it packs a right bite.”

~ “Hush guys, you know what happened last time…” a worried plea.

~ “How can she sit like that, with the freakish lump of a toe of hers?”

~ “No amount of drink.”

Nods all around.

≋❈≋

Karin brought Kally another drink. So much for drinking less tonight.

The ragged man ran ragged, ran ragged did he. Did he run ragged? Or raggedly? Or was he a rugged man who ran ragged? You can’t run rugged, really, though it has a nice ring to it. Ring ragged. Ring run? Run rings. Kally swayed, all a-slump. Cloudy crystals formed in the back of her mind, jagged and rough, piercing, her brain turning to mush. Words were incoherent. Movement was clumsy. She had already had a fair few, that was for sure. The room fell silent as they all looked to the door.

Tommy entered. The rugged man, perhaps?

He entered with difficulty, pushing hard against the door to force it open. He struggled through the bar, weaving around the tables. Karin leapt up and rushed towards him to offer assistance.

“Ah, you’re alright, lad. I need to get used to moving around.”

Karin smiled and nodded, rescinding his offer. He backed away but stayed alert. It was painful watching him drag himself with his underdeveloped arms. Still, Tommy was right; he would only get better with more practice.

Kally was unaware of Tommy’s entrance, and only started to come round to the fact when she felt a hand lightly pressing on her arm. She looked up, bleary and sad, directly into Tommy’s eyes.

“Ah, lass. This is no good.” He scratched his soft wisp of beard. It crackled.

“Mmmhmm,” Kally mustered, possibly in agreement.

“We can’t have you go the way of Betsy now, dear.”

Kally puffed up. “Oh, but, Betsy. Betsy. Betsssy. Betttsssy…”

Tommy stifled a sigh. “Oh, Kally.” He turned to Karin and asked for some water. “And put some of the juice in it. You know the stuff, the special stuff.”

Karin obliged with the water and brought over a small container, a perfume decanter, still sealed. “Are you sure? She’s not going to thank you for it.”

“Aye, I ventured out to speak to her, and I can’t do that with her in this… state.”

“Still, rather you than me.”

“I’ll take my chances. Two drops’ll probably do it. Any more and she’ll have one heck of a headache in the morning.”

Karin, his hand not at his steadiest, took the lid off with a pop and proceeded to add two droplets into the water.

Getting Kally to drink the water was a challenge.

She did drink it though, in the end. Its effect was instant.

“This better be good,” she growled. Her vision throbbed in strange hues and frequencies.

“My dear, I would not be here if it was not necessary.” He motioned towards his stumps.

Kally softened, realising who she was talking to. She had always liked Tommy, since being a child. No nonsense, but kind. Besides, his sock puppets had brought her some enjoyment today.

“You’re right, of course, Tommy,” she replied softly, almost demure.

Karin watched this with a bemused look on his face. There were still a few surprises left then.

“I’ll get straight to it, lass.”

She nodded.

“I assume you have heard about Betsy?”

“Betsy, no… What happened?” She noticed Tommy’s solemn expression. “Oh no, she didn’t? Surely not. Oh.”

“She’d been talking about it for a while, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“No, that’s true. Still though, it’s not…” She slumped in her chair. “Well, I’m not too sure what to say.”

He patted her arm.

“Aye, there’s not much to say. The practical side is sorting the arrangements for her passing. That will fall upon us.”

Kally welled up but pressed the tears down.

“We can arrange it together. I can’t believe it, or rather I don’t want to believe it.”

“Aye, lass. It’s a tough one. At least it’s what she wanted. I keep thinking that. Went out with a bang. Got swept up in the purple. Saw it with my own eyes, I did.”

Kally smiled a faltering smile. “She always did love that purple…”