This piece is my submission for Eric Martell's (@drmagoo) Fall Flash Festival. I must admit though, I wrote it with the prompt from Rebekah Postupak's Flash!Friday a couple weeks ago. I didn't submit for that though because it was WAY too long and I had a migraine. It ended up at 959 words. The contest required a 200-1000 word story with a fall-inspired theme. Enjoy!
Becoming
“Come take a walk with me, kid.” Winston said as he hobbled
past my seat in the cafeteria. I moved to pick up my tray, but he placed his
arm on my shoulder and shook his head no, “Leave it.”
I stood and followed him. I could’ve easily put my tray away
and still caught up to him. He hobbled along, his back bent and contorted
beneath his trench coat. The arm canes fastened around his forearms. His hands
hidden in the sleeves. “What can I do for you, Winston?” I asked, worried that
I may have done something wrong without knowing it. I had nowhere else to go.
He turned to look at me, his bright blue eyes the only thing
about him that didn’t seem old. “You’ve been here a week now, right?”
I nodded. It had been a week exactly, actually. Lunch had
been my first meal, brought to me in the study.
“Do you remember what happens if you survive a week?” He
continued out the door and onto the expansive lawns. I felt flushed despite the
chill in the air. The leaves crackled like fire on the branches, while some
crunched underfoot.
“Yeah,” I answered with a little hesitation. It seemed too
good to be true. My stomach rumbled rather loudly. “Mr. Jack said I get to be
an Odd Fellow and call this place home.”
“Now, now, none of that. He told you to call him Jack – just
Jack. You’ve made it. We’re family now. You’re one of us.” Winston hobbled faster now, much faster than
I’d seen him move before. His pace seemed impossible with all his physical
limitations.
“Right. Just Jack.” A crisp gust of wind whipped through the
trees, raining molten leaves down on us. My new home. Could this be real? What
was to keep them from kicking me out tomorrow? “How did he get the money for
this place, anyway? Did he inherit it? Is he part of the mob? Does he actually
work somewhere?” I tested the waters, so to speak, to see how far I could push
them. Could I let myself believe? Pain cramped my stomach for a moment before
continuing its general distress.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Golden Goose’?” Winston
halted on the path and turned to face me, not ruffled at all.
“Sure.” I answered,
even though it seemed off-topic. My stomach was cramping repeatedly now and I
could feel sweat break out on my forehead despite the chill in the air. Had I
eaten something bad, or was I just this nervous?
“Well, let’s just say he has one.”
“Okay.” That answered nothing. “But why would he even take
in people like us? We have nothing to offer.” Perhaps I should go lie down. I
felt dizzy and rubbed the back of my neck.
“It’s more about what you will become than what you bring
with you.” Winston cocked his head to the side. “We find that what you want to become
influences what you will become. What do you want to become, Sam?”
No one had ever asked me that. Ever. My stomach churned. Was
it safe to share my dreams with these people? “I’ve always wanted to be a
pilot. I’ve never been in a plane before, but the idea of flying is…intoxicating.”
I felt really warm now and I wiped my face with the sleeve of my arm. My forearm
began to itch; I scratched absently.
“Anything else?” His eyes were practically glowing.
‘I always figured I’d join the military, or the police
force, or something. I want to protect people from the fate I had.”
“Of course. That’s understandable. And I am intensely
curious at its outcome.”
My other arm started itching, and my back did too. I looked
down and screamed – I was bright red! I must’ve gotten a really bad rash. “I
think I need to go to the nurse…” I looked up at Winston and froze. He wasn’t
standing there, hunched over, he was…unfurling in front of me. He tossed his
canes aside and his trench coat followed. His arms unfolded and his legs and
two other sets as well… He seemed to stretch and then flopped on to all eight
legs. He looked at me and smiled. “It’s so hard to confine myself like that!
It’s nice to stretch.”
I scrambled backward a couple steps and fell. “Wha-? What
are you?” Was all I could think to ask, my personal issues dimming for a
moment.
“I am Spiderman. Much more so that that silly comic book
hero. The more interesting question of the moment is, ‘What are you?’ or more
precisely, ‘What are you becoming?’”
“What do you mean?” The pain in my stomach redoubled and I curled
into a fetal position on my knees in the grass. “What’s happening to me?” I
didn’t hear an answer though. I screamed as my skin tore open and glittering
ruby scales appeared instead. My body broke and pulled and stretched until I
must’ve blacked out.
I awoke feeling very odd, but not in pain. My stomach was
still churning, so I must be me. Then I tried to stand. I pushed off with my
hands as I opened my eyes. I would have overbalanced and fallen over, but my
wings unfurled and beat rapidly to settle me firmly on all fours. “What’s
happened to me?” I said, then felt the need to belch. I sprayed a plume of fire
that stunned me. My stomach settled.
“A dragon. Well done! Jack will be so pleased.”
I looked over at Spiderman and asked, “How?”
“It’s amazing what a magic bean can do when it’s not
planted.”
“But I’m…I’m…”
“You’re an Odd Fellow. Welcome to the family.”
