Sort of Dead

74 - Licks Or Locks

Marra's POV:-

Hands clasped firmly over my ears while Illusory Gaba continues to ramble on like an old scooter about how I ruined his life is an experience I will most certainly remember for the rest of my life, whether I desire to or not. Even more torturous is the knowing that I will probably spend the rest of my life this way.

I have never wished I could die more. And permanently, at that.

Me and Uncle have stopped talking across the cruel, thick wall that separates us. The more concise, succinct way to put it would be to say we can’t talk anymore. Our throats feel like sandpaper, and speaking feels like . . . like, well, I don’t know. There’s no comparison to it, they’d all fall short.

Worse still is the fact that I know only too well that Uncle doesn’t have much time left. And how about Aar? Bee? See? Are they already dead?

TJSOMB: Ooh, why, yes, they are, and you know it, don’t you, Mar?

The Jerk Section Of My Brain explodes into life inside of me somewhere, and I am loath to think of a popcorn, which causes my stingy stomach to do athletics you won’t believe. Yoga masters would be ashamed if they witnessed the calamity of exercises my alimentary canal exhibits. Meanwhile, TJSOMB, in a voice that has never been more further from mine, warbles and chirrups on.

You know it like the back of your own hand! You know it like you know your own shadow! You know it like –

Oh, shut up.

I don’t think I will, boss. I think I’ll keep hectoring on, and on, and on, until you lose your pea-brain! How’s that sound? Want to hear a joke? Why, that’s the spirit, young man! Tell me. What do you subtract from your life to make it better?

Erm, I don’t know.

NOTHING! Nothing's going to make things better for you now, boss! You are going to sit here snuggled up for centuries, while your friends become fossils and your spirit lady latches on to another host! You’ll become a skeleton, why, yes, you will! But will you die? Oh, no, no, no. Will you forget? Oh, no, no, no. I don’t think so, young man! ‘Cuz I am here. To remind you, and remind you, and remind you –

‘Gaba-goo-ba.’

‘Stop it, Gaba,' I say in response, clapping my hand over my ears again. I don’t even know when I got them off.

Why, listen to Gaba, boss! He’s knocking right, sensible things into your daft head! Either listen to him, or I’ll keep talking like this, until you go mad and start laughing like a maniac at your own misery! Yes! Yes, I will, boss. I will make your insides curl and make you use them as a pillow! A very soft, bloody, guilt-ridden pillow indeed! Manufactured by –

I uncover my ears. It’s better to listen to illusory Gaba than my own senseless brain.

‘Goo-ba-boo-bii,' the voice says again.

'Gaba, please. I know you’re not the brightest candle, but at least talk legibly.’

‘Ba-boo-gee-gaa cuddles baba.’

Wait. This isn’t Gaba. This is . . . but how?

I stand up - although not for long, because I fall back down almost instantly, falling on my sensitive bum. (Bum reminds me of Jason. Ah, I remember the days when I thought being called Buttwipe was the worst thing that could ever happen to be. Good ole days. Stay in school, kids. Don’t go out looking for witches.) There’s no strength whatsoever in my legs.

But – but the voice –

'Baba be quick like me when I want pedigree tasty foody goo-goo.’

I don’t know how, but I get what this means: be quick, or you’re toast.

I lay my hands flat against the wall, find an imperfection I can stick my nails into, and heave myself upright. Something as simple as standing up has become such a task for me. Kids, have your green vegetables, please. And this is coming from a guy whom you know hates broccolis and cabbages and all that junk.

Okay, I take it back. Do what you want. But, like, try, maybe. Or not. Your life. Am I stretching this out for too long? I think I am. Whatever. Okay. Cool. Let’s go.

I take a step toward the bars, where - tun-tadah-tah! – is See, the laziest Beagle to ever have walked the earth! Also the only Beagle who can talk in English when a spirit uses her powers to do so!

Also the stuff of my nightmares. But let’s crop that part out.

(Subconsciously I sigh with utmost relief, because this indirectly means my Es is fine. Thank the skies for that.)

Anyway, you cannot possibly imagine the sheer amount of repose I feel at seeing him there. After several attempts lost with no cause, I finally trundle over to the bars, reach out a hand and stroke his linen fur.

‘Ah-ooh-ah baba,' See says, obviously enjoying himself. His jaws move while he talks, and it looks weird as heck, but his tongue – it licks me all over, and I’m not even disgusted by that as I usually am. I relish the touch. I feel the love See's relaying onto me.

Still the girliest animal to ever have girled. Shaking my head (not really).

But he’s not licking me just for the sake of licking me. As he's dabbing me with moisture, I feel something cold and metallic scrape my chin, followed by a jingling sound as that cold, metallic something falls to the ground on my side. I look down. See looks down.

Keys. A bunch of keys.

There’s no need to tell me what locks they unlock.

I mean, I told you chapter 41 had a role.