And So He Walked
—-

They were roused from a light sleep around 7:30pm by the ring of Minus’ phone. It was Kotoko. Minus answered.

“What the Hell, dude,” Kotoko was clearly frustrated. “I’ve been driving around for almost an hour. The street you said you lived on. It’s not here! I’m fairly certain it doesn’t even exist!”

“It’s alright, Kotoko,” Minus seemed very calm, and this calmed her down. “Do you know anything about synchronicity?”

She started to answer, but someone was opening the passenger door to her car. She reached for her purse, scrambling for the mace.

“Hi, I’m Minus. I think you’ve heard about me.”

“How the.. What? Where did you come from?” She wasn’t as confused as she should be. It seemed almost normal that Minus was now sitting in her passenger seat.

“My place. Go ahead and pull out of this parking lot, and go the right.”

Kotoko did as she was told.

“There will be a road on your left, the sign will say, ‘King’s Lane.’” Minus was directing her to his house and Jane.

When they approached the street sign, Kotoko was astounded. She had driven by this area a dozen times, and there had been no King’s Lane. She was certain. But there it was. A gravel driveway. She turned on to King’s Lane.

“My place is the only house back here. You can park next to my truck. Jane will be waiting for you at the door. I’ll take care of the groceries.” Minus said as Kotoko parked her jeep.

He got out of the jeep and reached into the back seat, picking up some bags. Kotoko went to the door, where she saw Jane peaking out. Minus could see them hug each other, and the tears that followed.

Kotoko went in, and Jane bolted all the locks behind them.

“What about Minus?” Kotoko was no stranger to magic, but she was clearly confused at the situation.

“It’s okay,” Jane said through the tears, “he’ll meet us in the basement.”

They continued through the house and into the basement door. Jane turned all the locks and knobs, locking them in again.

As they went down the flight of stairs, Kotoko was surprised that Minus was standing there, pouring three glasses of wine. She could see all of the grocery bags on the small counter he stood next to, and the luggage full of Jane’s clothing was by an opened closet on the other side of the room.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kotoko. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Jane tells me you have interest in the occult?”

He reached into the drawer of pills and pulled out two tiny blue capsules.

“Take these.”

And Kotoko did. She swallowed them with a large drink of wine. She was startled again for a moment, as she realized that she did not drink and had never taken drugs. Why had she done what he said without thought or question? As soon as these thought passed through her, her mind was quieted. She felt calm, and relaxed, and at home.

“Wait, you’re a straight, aren’t you? You must be. Jane said you were good at divination,” said Minus. Both of the girls looked confused.

“Like, you don’t drink, or take any kind of drugs, right?”

“No.. I mean, yeah, I don’t do anything like that.. But I just did, didn’t I? Why am I not bothered or worried?” Kotoko tried to look stern, but she wasn’t really able to.

“Okay, no worries. Those pills. Not drugs. Not real drugs anyway. It’s a metaphysical relaxer. Opens your senses, and leaves you calm. No dangers or addictions. Now had you actually been into pills, I’ve got stuff around..” Minus trailed off.

“No, I feel great.. It’s like my soul let go of my fears and pretensions.” Kotoko was surprised at how easily she understood things, and how clear and fluid her thoughts were.

“You’re not bothered because it was me who gave them to you. Just like you weren’t all that upset when I got in the car seat next to you. I don’t really know why that is, but Doctor Mancini has told me things like that before. A lot of people have really..

“Anyway, just relax, we’ll fill you in and you’ll fill us in, alright?”

Jane and Kotoko nodded in unison.

The three talked for what seemed like hours. Then there was an odd, snapping feeling, and Kotoko left, and Jane went to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, Minus locked the basement and front door behind himself, and started walking due north.

Jane, Kotoko, Mancini, and Othin would all awake the next morning, around the same time, feeling unusually happy.

At that exact moment, Minus would see two ravens, perched on a tree older than the continent, and feel horrible despair. He did not enjoy this the last time.

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #19
End: Part 1
And So He Walked

I lied. It’s not a story at all.

What is it? It’s a call.

This was brought on by a post my Mexican brother, Renato, sent me sometime late last night. It was a story of love, and loss, of pride, and attitude. Please, just read it yourself. Fair warning. It is slightly graphic. But it’s goddamned beautiful.

What Renato made me think of with that post is not something I can really even begin to explain. But, being the cocky bastard that I am, I’m gonna fucking try.

It reminded me of something I had forgotten. Something that I am afraid Renato may have forgotten by the end of that post. I hope not.

I had forgotten everything that got me where I am today. Some people might call it vanity or pride. Some people might say an undeserved sense of self worth. What I am getting at is attitude. I have always believed that my stories are meant to be read, by sanction of god, or satan, or odin, or zues, or who gives a fuck. I’ve always had a feeling deep inside me that what I am doing is right. No matter what anyone had to say about it. That I was walking that golden path that so many before me have walked.

Is it pride? Sure. Is it vanity? You’re damned right. Is it undeserved? Go fuck yourself.

The attitude that we own this. That we belong. That we are meant for far greater things. It doesn’t matter if we are wrong, because this is the only attitude that ever changes the world. Some will fall, some will rise. It matters not.

Change is brought on by the cocky bastards out there. Do the world a favor, and buy one of us a beer. We’re easy to spot. Look for the guy that has absolutely no right to be dancing with the best looking girl in the bar. Look for the lead singer that takes all of the drinks the crowd offers up, and still doesn’t fuck up a song. Look for the guy surrounded by empty beer glasses and notepads that everyone stops to talk to and buy a beer for.

Look for us. If we are not screaming for attention, we are drowning in despair. We will be remembered, because we will not settle for less.

We spot each other with a word. We are brothers.

Jack
I Listen.

I listen better if that’s a six pack in that grocery bag.

You see, this goes very far back. As long as can be remembered, great blues musicians have had legends told about them. Legends about how their life hit the lowest of low, the saddest of the sad, the deepest of depressions, and often, they went to the railroad tracks to kill themselves.

While awaiting a train to end the misery of miseries, these men were approached by the Devil, who offered to give them fame and fortune and abilities with music that could be surpassed by no man in their lifetimes, in exchange for their immortal souls. As people are weak, they often agreed.

The part the Devil often forgot to mention in the contracts and pacts is that despite their fame and abilities, these musicians would never lose this deep despair they currently felt. Thus was born the name, The Blues Devil. He is now often sought, and seldom found.

Jack.
I Listen.
I Travel.

-Loki.
Developmental Theology 089
Lesson #22