10. Hungry?

The wizard shook his head. “Fämäli. You say it like ‘fah-MALL-ee’, but I guess it sounds like family when you have a southern lisp like yours.”

CHOICES is the first book in the Chronicles of a Hero fantasy series. This is the story of Wendell P. Dipmier, who I’ve been writing about since 1990. I hope you’ll join me on this new adventure….as I tell the honest, complete story of this amazing 17 year old, exclusively on Life of Fiction.

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CHAPTER 10

Better out than in.

I carefully folded the yuck into the pillowcase and looked for a place to…deposit the mess. Hot goo into an empty dresser drawer. Yum. 

“Okay,” I breathed out, wiping the specks of goo from my face with a sleeve. “I’m alone, and I can’t trust anyone.” My reflection stared back through the mirror, fingers gripping the edges of the dresser. “…and I’m going to remain vulnerable and needy as long as I’m ignorant.” I nodded agreement. “Which means question asking is your new priority, Wendell.”

The unexpected sound of a toilet flushing in the next room jolted me from my personal pep talk. There was a ‘flap’, ‘flap’, ‘flap’ sound from behind the wall…and then silence. When I heard a deep burp at the other side of the door, I pounced to fling it open.

“AHH!” I gasped.

“AHH!” Dax yelped, stumbling away from the door. He scowled. “What the crap is wrong with you, kid? Always screamin’ and jumpin’ in people’s faces! Can’t you open a door like a normal person?”

“S-sorry,” I said.

Dax was dripping wet, in a towel that could have wrapped around his entire body…twice…all bunched at his waist. “Shower’s free,” he added, clearly annoyed. Leaning in, he sniffed loudly and wrinkled his nose. “Trust me, you need it.” Pointedly stuffing a cigar into his mouth, he waddling away, dragging the towel down the long hall and out of view. 

I shook my head.

Getting to know that little monster was going to be a challenge. There had to be more to Dax than what I was seeing. I’d noticed moments when situations stuck him deeper than his scowl. There had to be a story behind that attitude, and I wanted to hear it. Still, I didn’t understand why the High Council had to make him my guardian? Something all too familiar, however, overcame my concerns and line of thought. I sniffed the air.

Mmmmmmmm…

A mouth-watering aroma of fried bacon filled the hallway, making my stomach grumble. 

Food!

My stomach gave a roar loud enough to wake the dead. I was SO hungry! It was all the invitation I needed to quietly follow my nose to the carpeted stairs.

I had to admit that it was comforting to see this house, or wherever I was, looked ‘normal’. Yeah, I know that’s a relative term, but there were no stone or torches around. Even the stairs looked like any other modern house I’d find back on Earth. It was an open gallery, plastered with pictures. Dozens of wood and metal frames displaying cute snapshots of people and events. There was one in particular, wrapped in what looked to be an odd, handmade wood frame…by someone with minor talent, that caught my eye. The rough-cut wood cradled a picture of Chuck, holding an ugly baby with sickly green patches of skin and enormous pointy ears. The child tugged on the wizard’s long, grey beard with both hands, and both were smiling. Well, Chuck seemed to be in a moderate amount of pain, but he still looked happy.

I couldn’t help but smile.

My eyes rolled from one photo to the next as I descended the stairs. Most of them were of Chuck and someone else, but he was always in the picture. It was easy to recognize him because he sported that robe and pointy hat. Always a shade of grey, and of course you couldn’t mistake that crazy long beard and genuine smile.

So many people.

Hundreds of smiling faces beamed back at him.

Among the pictures, I found the High Elder, his son, Shea…and even Dax in multiple settings. That’s when the weird photos started.

There were pictures of dragons and great serpents wrapped around the wizard’s neck and body, and great cats so big, they looked more like horses than felines. I leaned in closer to study a picture of Chuck standing next to a giant so big, the wizard only reached the ankle bone. He held a handmade sign with an arrow pointing upward.

Bob.

As I continued down the stairs, I found pictures of Chuck in formal dress, smiling while accepting awards. There was a cluster of  photos of him standing on a field of battle in a pose of glory — his sandaled foot on a vallen’s chest. Another displayed nearly a dozen other wizards, all with their pointy hats and robes in various colors, sitting around a table, laughing, enjoying drinks.

When the staircase finally ended, opening up into the living room…I skidded to a halt. 

“No way,” I stammered out loud. 

Mounted on the center wall was a theater system, complete with the largest flat screen television I had ever seen. It had to be over 100 inches wide. They mounted speakers on either side of the screen and in each corner of the room. Right below the TV were multiple video game systems, controllers hanging on hooks, and a library of games to go with it. 

I gasped at the setup and then laughed to himself. 

The pictures said Chuck. The games, though? My guess was Dax.

“Oh, yeah. Uh-HUH!” came a voice from behind me.

On the opposite wall of the TV, there was a rather large archway leading into a beautiful kitchen.

Chuck was busy cooking. A tiny cord hung from each ear. “Yeah, baby…let’s DO this!” he sang aloud to himself, adding a nod and rhythmic shake of his hips. The abnormally long beard and mustache had been stuffed into the pocket of a blue denim apron. Wielding a spatula in each hand, Chuck flipped pancakes into a deep pan resting beside him and tossed hash browns about with the other.

What shocked me was how surprisingly spry the old guy was. To whatever beat he was listening to, knees jumped  high and hips rotated, and I had to bite my lip not to laugh. My stomach growled fiercely, but I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt the wizards…moment.

At least not until I got a better look around.

The letter created an itch in the back of my mind — one I decided not to ignore. It had only been days since I’d arrived. I didn’t know these people. That mattered, regardless of how nice they seemed.

Ugh, ‘nice’.

Hated that word. Contrary to popular belief, I’d never been nice a day of my life. ‘Kind’ was another matter. My life’s focus revolved around a drive to being kind. To do what was right for others, because I wanted to do good, regardless of how others felt.

That meant being cautious. I had no idea what Delnar, the Council, Dax, or even Chuck had in mind. What their focus was. 

Unnoticed, I turned my attention back to the living room to inspect. It was so hard for me to accept that this was all real. Yes, I could see it, but I’d ‘seen’ thing over the past couple days that defied my version of what ‘reality’ was.

Everything here reminded me of home. The carpet, the games, a TV, even the style of furniture…especially the grand piano in the bay window. It was all stuff I saw on a typical day on Earth. It was also different from how the High Elder lived. Nothing like that Bedur-place we’d had the Council meeting in. 

Which reminded me, it was probably wise to memorize some of those council names before I looked like a fool. I made a mental note to ask Chuck about the Iskari High Council and how it functioned.

I stopped at the coffee table to pick at some of the neatly arranged magazines across its surface.

Wizard’s Day?

Monster Mystery Mayhem?

Better Shacks and Gardens?

Gnome Geographic?

“These people are nuts,” Doubt whispered. “You’ve checked into the looney farm.”

Oh, come on. They seem harmless enough.

Fruit gardens, fire breathing creatures and models in static poses smiled from the glistening covers.