Good Morning, Mr. Kay - E.M.P. Book 1

eleven.

Chapter illustration: https://www.quotev.com/story/13784110/Good-Morning-Mr-Kay-EMP-Book-1/11

Mr. Kay and Hua gathered about a small fire, and the beautiful flames danced about like rose petals caught in a spring breeze. A purplish forcefield surrounded the dangerous thermal energy, protecting the wooden boards of the ship from being singed. Mr. Kay gripped a roasting stick in his hand, a fat marshmallow pierced on the prongs, and he held it through the forcefield and right above the fire. The mica in the rocks surrounding the burning sticks sparkled as the light flickered about. Hua was nibbling on some of the graham crackers her father also crafted with his ability, and Eve was up in the crow’s nest, her head twitching this way and that as she observed the world.

Hua looked up at the beast. “Dad, how did you find White Space?”

Mr. Kay pulled his sugary treat away from the heat and pressed on it, testing if it was ready to eat. He put it back over the blaze. “An accident. I thought I heard a bird in the chimney, so I crawled into the fireplace with a flashlight to check it out. As I was crouched and looking up into the flue, I lost my balance. I swung my arms about, hitting the walls and trying to catch myself, and that was when the portal opened. It opens when someone hits the fireplace enough.

“Yeah, I was scared to death, but when I finally worked up the courage, I looked into White Space. Eve was there, watching and curious about who she was supposed to help next. It was a terrifying experience, but I learned that something scary can actually be something important and lovely. Our fear just helps us survive and be cautious of things we don’t know about.”

“That’s cool,” Hua muttered. “So, where is this land you are talking about?”

Mr. Kay rotated his body towards the slender bowsprit. He held up his arm and pointed to a grayish glow on the horizon. “There. I have this story I want to make, about two witches living in a medieval town. They want to practice their magic, which is good magic, but they fear they will be killed because of it. I want to try to recreate the story.”

                                                                                             . . .

Mr. Kay listened to the distant, hushed clapping of boards as other buildings grew and constructed themselves outside. The witches’ home slithered about around the trio as Mr. Kay’s ink became material, and various herbs fell from the ceiling’s battens, strung up by twine. A grand steel cauldron rolled into the middle of the room and righted itself upon a stand made of iron before it filled with boiling water. A small fire burst up underneath it. Glowing crystals began to emerge from the wall, igniting the room with various hues of purple and green and blue, and Eve bent down a tad as the spears started to inch towards her head.

As all the ruckus dissipated, two jolly women spun out of Mr. Kay’s line art, giggling and happy to create something to save a sickly child down the road. They spoke to each other in loud voices as they worked, throwing this and that into the roiling stew, and they paid no attention to their audience.

It was at this moment that Mr. Kay thought about his ability in White Space. Was this playing creator? Did Eve give him something that no human, good or evil, deserved to have? But he then considered the reality of the situation. The gleeful women before him and the townspeople who awaited outside their house’s doors weren’t real. They were just a manifestation of his imagination and nothing more. They were synthetic, not actual organisms. All of this was just a strange form of therapy, and he returned to a peaceful state, unburdened by morals.

“Oh, oh Eleanor!” one of the witches shrieked. “Thomas also has a sore throat! Some dragon’s hide to fix that?” She held up a sheet of thick skin, the underside still coated in dried blood and scabs.

“Excellent, Mary. Toss it in, my dear!”

The greenish fluid in the cauldron sloshed about as she launched the flesh in, and some droplets flew out and sizzled on the cold, dusty concrete ground. Eleanor bumbled up to the viscous concoction and stirred it with strong hands. She grabbed a terracotta jar off a crooked shelf and dumped all of its contents in. The stinging scent of sugar flew up Mr. Kay’s nose, and Eve released some strained coughs under her mask.

Mary held out a muffin sheet to her friend, and Eleanor dumped spoonfuls of the magical batter into the molds. Mary threw the sheet into a clay oven with a twisted copper chimney, and the furnace coughed and sputtered as it burst to life after Mary threw a spell upon it. The cheery women danced about on their worn sandals, swinging their skirts, as they celebrated their wondrous creation.

“Oh, Ellen, Ellen, the parents of Thomas will be so grateful, won’t they? Their boy will live!” Mary grinned brightly, her wrinkled skin creasing.

“They will indeed be smothered with joy!” Eleanor shouted, her more youthful complexion glistening in the warm firelight.

“The muffins must be ready!”

Mary flamboyantly jigged to the oven and opened the hatch. A cloud of pink, sparkling smoke erupted from the belly of the oven, and Mary pulled out the grayish treats. Eleanor bounced up to her teacher, and her smile faded as she looked at the unappetizing deserts. Mary recognized her hesitation.

“Add an illusion!” Eleanor yelped before flicking her thin wrist.

The muffins bounced up in their cups and twirled about before falling back, now looking like scrumptious blueberry pastries with brown sugar topping. A warm, mothering scent filled the room, and Hua breathed in deeply, absolutely taken with the odor. The witches cackled joyfully before putting the treats into a woven basket. They burst out the door, their hips swinging from side to side as they energetically walked to their neighbor’s home.

Hua looked at her father, and his eyes sparkled with satisfaction of seeing his tale come to life. He burst out the door and twirled about in the village, trying to see the entire scene and all its details. Hua and Eve crept into the sunlight.

“Hua! Hua!” Mr. Kay cried. “This is it! This is what I have been missing!”

Hua dashed up to her father and embraced him, tears slipping from her eyes. “I am so happy for you,” she muttered. “This would make an amazing play, you know?”

“A play?”

Hua pulled back, fearful that she offended him. “Maybe not a play. Maybe a book?”

"Oh, I thought this was enough," Mr. Kay said. "This is what I want. I don't want to go back. I want to stay in White Space forever."