Attic (The Strangers III)

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The spaceship came into vision with a snap from Basil's fingers. Helen, two steps behind them, staggered to a halt.

She could hardly believe what she was seeing. They can't actually be aliens?

But those eyes, she thought. You know they weren't exactly human.

For a while she fought with herself. Logic tried to take over. She battled it with factual data, intuition, even mathematical probability. In the end, curiosity took over, and she suspended her beliefs.

Meanwhile, Basil and Romana stepped into the ship. There they discovered a boy of about ten, tied up in tentacles.

"It's your own mistake, you know," Basil said to him, arms folded across his chest.

"Help me," the boy pleaded. "Help!"

"Ralph?" Helen stepped into the spacecraft warily, as though she expected it to disappear at any moment. "Ralph!" she gasped, seeing him. "What is that? What's happened to you?"

"You know him?" Romana asked.

"He lives next door!"

"Your little friend decided to investigate our spaceship," Basil said. "Hello, Ralph. I see you've met the pet." Romana rolled her eyes and went to an inside room.

"Yes, but what is that?" Helen asked, gazing at the almost leathery black tentacles, one holding tight around the boy, the others swaying menacingly. It all seemed to come from a little red pot, and in the center was a void lined with teeth, dark and menacing.

"It's a potted plant, what else could it be? Bought this beauty to spice up the interior decoration. Romana calls him Attic, can't imagine why. Then again, he is family." he explained.

"What's it gonna do to me?" Ralph moaned.

"Oh, don't worry, he hardly ever devours anyone."

"What?!"

"Yes, it's been ages since his last meal. I'm training him to be vegetarian," he announced proudly.

"And are you... Succeeding?" Ralph tried and failed to hide his distrust.

"Well, to be honest I've never tested him. Hey, maybe we'll find out today!"

Ralph visibly paled.

"You can't test your carnivorous plants on a person! What kind of alien are you?!" Helen burst out.

"Alien? My name is Basil," he said, very hurt.

"Whatever!"

"And that's rude, you know. What if I call you an alien?"

Helen opened her mouth to reply but Ralph gave out a scream –

"It's hurting me! It's hurting me!"

"Yes, yes! We get it!" came a voice. It was Romana, emerging from whichever recess of the ship she had retreated into, and holding – Helen raised her eyebrows – woollen gloves. She pulled them on as she addressed Ralph.

"Please don't shout again, I have delicate auditory nerves."

Ralph watched in shock as Romana stepped cautiously towards the nearest snake-like arm and attempted to stroke it.

"Now, Ralph," she said, in a business-like tone, "Listen carefully. I need you to gently squeeze Attic, round the tentacle that's holding you."

"What?!" he yelled incredulously. "I can't do – I – it's squeezing me, my arms are tied up in this thing!"

"No they aren't."

He looked down. Indeed, the tentacles were around his chest and neck, but his arms were free to move.

"You see?" she continued. "He makes you feel trapped, but you really aren't. He gets inside your mind, makes you feel powerless. Remember: you aren't powerless, ever. All you have to do to prove it is make one move. Squeeze him. Embrace him. Then he knows who he's dealing with, and out of awe, he'll let you go. He'll get out of your head, and the struggle is over."

Helen blinked.

Ralph grimaced, looking down again. Closing his eyes doubtfully, he wound his arms around the slimy, leathery mass of plant and hugged it tight.

Unbelievably, its grip loosened and Ralph was released. His eyes shot open and he stumbled as his feet touched the tiled white floor. He took a step forward and Attic cleared a path for him.

"Told you. He's a good boy, Attic," Romana beamed. Ralph sighed in relief and ran right into her arms.

"Thank you," he mumbled into her hair.

"Don't be silly," she said.

"Yes, you are being silly," said Basil matter-of-fact-ly. "Sorry is what you should say."

~

"So how did you really do it?"

"Do what?" Romana asked.

She was walking with Helen in the park. Basil had gone off to feed Ralph some ice cream, to help deal with his shock.

"How did you figure out Attic's weakness?"

Romana looked up at the sun. She was going to miss this one.

"I always knew his weakness. Potted tentacles tend to have that kind of nature. But Basil doesn't get it."

"Doesn't get what?"

"He doesn't get the significance, the poetry behind it. He's a scientist, an adventurer, he doesn't have the depth to see this. But you do, I think," she looked round at her. "You're a word spinner. You see it, don't you? You know that plant has a message for you."

Helen looked at the ground. Romana smiled at her, her dangerous smile.

"I wonder, can you guess Attic's full name?" she asked.

Just then, a baseball bounced once and rolled at their feet. The ship was concealed just ahead, so Romana picked it up and threw it right back.

Helen was trying to remember a word she had picked up in a dictionary, a long time ago...

"Atychiphobia?" she hazarded.

Romana laughed.

"Exactly right. The fear of failure. I found the name through an intergalactic encyclopedia. You surprise me, word spinner!"

Basil turned up behind them, guiding a chocolate covered Ralph.

"What's happening here?" he asked.

"Helen has finally got it right."

~

That night, well past midnight, Helen wrote.

Writing is hell, she thought, even as she did it.

But when the words come fast and free, you're at the centre of the fire. You're not the one burning anymore. You are the flames.

I am the flame, she thought.

And yet the tentacles of fear swayed menacingly around her, threatening to strangle her, to snuff out the heat.

If she wanted, she could have succumbed. She could have let go. They could have strangled her.

But she embraced them, embraced her fears and carried on. Sometimes you just have to accept it the way it is.

Ambition always finds an enemy in Atychiphobia. But you can't always be afraid, otherwise how will you breathe?

An alien came to tell her that.

Do you need one as well?

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