The Stranger - Max Frei [62]
“That could very well be. All the worse, Sir Max, all the worse.”
“If you really are going to be looking out for me, then please recite the safety measures to me just before I climb into bed. I’m either becoming absentminded, or the creature is turning me into an idiot.”
“You’re right. Stranger things have happened. In any case, an extra reminder never hurt anyone. You’re not eating enough. Don’t let nonsense like this spoil your appetite. Problems come and go, but your belly stays with you. Its needs are sacred.”
“I promise I’ll be good, sir.”
And indeed I was. I devoured a plateful of food, and after wiping my plate clean, I reached for a second helping. Sir Juffin Hully looked at me with the approval of a loving grandmother.
Soon it was time to go back home and see this night’s screening of Nightmare on Elm Street, starring poor Max. I can’t say that I was really looking forward to it. Now I was struck by my own idiotic heroism, under the influence of which I had refused to stay over at Juffin’s the other day. It was supposedly in the “interests of our mission,” but to tell the truth, it was just plain stubbornness.
Home was cozy, in spite of it all. Rays of sunshine beat through the new chocolate colored curtains I had procured to turn the bright light of day into the warm half-gloom of an underwater grotto. Of course, the main reason for my purchase had been to get rid of the view from the window, which only a few days before had been one of the main arguments in favor of my choosing this place as my home.
I noticed the evidence of Juffin’s presence in the living room (an unwashed glass and an empty kamra jug), and in the bedroom (the pillows and blankets had migrated to the far corner of the gigantic bed, and my library at the head of the bed had undergone thorough censorship, with the consequent scattering of all books deemed improper about the room). Following a strange logic of free association, I started thinking about cats. As soon as this is all over and done with, I’m getting a kitten, I promised myself. I tried to settle in more comfortably.
Hey Max, Juffin’s call jangled in my head, importunate as the sound of an alarm clock. Don’t forget to put on the scarf!
Sinning Magicians! I nearly forgot the talisman! How was it possible? I was so frightened there could have been no question of absent-mindedness. I quickly wrapped the protective cloth around my neck.
Looks like you were right, Max. You’re able to focus your attention on anything but matters of your own safety. Thoughts about the amulet were blocked, and in a very interesting way, I might add. It’s too bad you wouldn’t be able to understand my explanation of the matter yet. It seems we’ve come upon a very curious phenomenon. Perhaps you have some other amulets as well? Just objects that you especially like, or things that calm you down, like a child with his favorite toy. Lie down with things like that arranged from head to toe. They can’t do any harm, and who knows what small talismans are capable of? And don’t huff and puff so much trying to send me a message! I’m near you all the time in a sense. I see everything and I hear everything. Everything is under control. So just relax. What was it that you said recently? Over and out? Well, that’s all. So long!
I tried to think. Amulets. What sorts of amulets could I have? Actually, I do have one thing I could probably use: the balsam box from Sir Makluk’s bedroom, which was my very first trophy. I had removed it from the place it had so clearly not wanted to stay, and I had the feeling that the trinket was especially fond of me. So I placed my little friend carefully at the head of the bed.
But what else? Was that all? Except maybe the Child of the Crimson Pearl, which was, after all, a royal gift. It couldn’t hurt to have it around. And the third volume of Sir Manga Malifaro’s Encyclopedia of the World, too. I really had grown used to falling