Balance - Book one

  * * *

  The following day Benny dropped me off outside the Defence Training Office. My walk up the driveway revealed something rather astonishing, namely: the damage to the building which I had caused. My last visit had ended with such an abrupt departure I had not had time to view my handy work. But now, as my winding approach took me up the tree lined driveway, I could clearly see the domed roof that protruded from the mansion’s nether regions. It sat in two complete separate halves. The kind of force required to do this, I imagined, was equivalent to one seriously powerful bomb. Perhaps a few.

  Again I attempted to locate some source of extra Spirit within.

  I approached the mansion for what would be my last visit to Selena and headed for the steps, taking note of two vans at the building’s flank that identified themselves as “Construction Experts”.

  As I neared the front door I was a little surprised to find Selena herself waiting for me.

  “A construction team is at work,” she declared, “We shall do today’s lesson outside. Follow me.”

  I thought I detected a cold edge to the interaction. Indeed this was a rather bold statement, kind of like announcing you had detected a block of ice in Greenland, but still I was convinced.

  She led the way around the rear of the building, through a small gate and into a courtyard.

  Here, positioned around a central swimming pool, was an entertainment area housed under an enormous thatched rain cover. It looked to be a pleasant place in which to spend a summer’s day, although I got the feeling that it had not seen guests in some time, or perhaps ever.

  Selena took a seat at one of the stylishly rustic wooden tables and gestured for me to join. I did so, now hearing sounds of heavy construction from the mansion windows at my back.

  To my left a glistening water-feature bubbled water restlessly into the swimming pool.

  “Today you will learn how to make use of a Primary Crutch,” Selena said, “This will not take long.”

  “Okay.”

  Again I got the impression that she dealing with me in a cold and detached manner. You might point out that this should not have surprised me, considering I had just done what equated to hundreds of thousands in damage to her house. But I was certain this was not the reason for the behaviour.

  “Take your time,” she continued, “Think hard and find something in your life which you cannot do without; a habit, a routine, a regular distraction. It helps if it is something that is already integrated into your life. Harnessing it to become a Primary Crutch is then easier.”

  I paused and thought, listening to the tinkle of water as it flowed in stark contrast to the sounds of metallic construction behind.

  The first idea that came to mind was the painkillers. I played with the idea of sacrificing a clear mind for the benefit of being free of the demon. But after a few moments of contemplation decided that this would likely be the exact wrong choice to make. I may as well just turn myself in and head to a Magical Detention centre.

  “Do keep in mind that convenience is vital,” she added softly.

  I racked my brain, realising I lived a life of very few solid habits. Curse me for not being a smoker.

  After five minutes of fruitless thought I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Behind me Jenny the assistant emerged from glass sliding doors.

  “Mister Clarence,” she said by means of a greeting.

  “Hello, Jenny.”

  “You have made rather a mess of the house.”

  “I did. Sorry about that.”

  “Not too worry, I have always fancied a skylight in the main hall.”

  “Oh. Good. Glad I could help.”

  She offered a professional smile and turned to Selena. “I thought perhaps you would care for some refreshments, Miss Stephania?”

  “Coffee would be nice Jenny,” Selena responded, “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” The young assistant turned back to me. “And yourself, Mister Clarence? Coffee?”

  “Coffee.” The word left my mouth and the puzzle piece fell into place simultaneously.

  I looked at Selena with eyebrows raised. “Coffee?”

  She nodded. “Yes, this will do. We can work with coffee. Well done, Jenny.”

  “Thank you, Miss Stephania,” replied Jenny, smiling at me placidly.

  “If you would please bring coffee beans and a grinder.”

  “At once, Miss Stephania.”

  The young woman clicked back into the house. I watched her go curiously, racking my brain as to whether there was significance in the fact she had offered me coffee twice before, and in such peculiar circumstances. Surely Logical Prediction could not be used in such a way. It seemed impossible.

  A few minutes later I sat with an old fashioned coffee grinder on the table before me, complete with a cup of choice grade coffee beans. At least I assumed they were choice grade since anything else would have seemed completely out of place.

  “What do you know about coffee?” Selena asked, not registering the bewildered fashion in which I stared at the grinder.

  “I know how to drink it.”

  “You do so often?”

  “Daily. Other than that, I wasn’t even sure it came from beans until five seconds ago.”

  “Then I suggest you begin to learn some details, because from now on coffee is going to be a major part of your life. Understand? You are to develop a passion for coffee beyond the level of a casual coffee drinker.”

  “Okay.”

  “It is the action of making and drinking coffee however, which will become your Primary Crutch.”

  “How?”

  “Channelling Spirit. Simply put; the Spirit with which you would previously feed a demon will now be put into making gourmet cups of coffee.”

  This seemed a straight forward idea and something I had gathered from watching Benny and his smoking habit. But I recalled also Benny from the previous night, his face sweating and eyes bulging like a man drifting dangerously close to the realm of “losing it”.

  “And this technique is fool proof?”

  “Fool proof?” She stared at me. “Nothing is fool proof. But when used correctly this technique is perfectly adequate.”

  “What if I… start slipping? Or don’t feel that it’s working properly?”

  “Most likely you are not doing it properly. Alternatively it is not impossible that your relationship with your demon worsens. Keep in mind that a Primary Crutch is used best in conjunction with a solid grasp and understanding of your situation. Should you feel that your mental state is deteriorating, contact me immediately. Especially considering the recent developments with your new Spirit Level.”

  “Okay.”

  I thought again of Benny. As I suspected he had not been telling me everything. His condition was slipping and he had not contacted his trainer, whom I guessed with some level of accuracy to be Selena.

  “Well then?” she said impatiently.

  “Well then what?”

  “Start grinding. And do exactly as I say. No questions.”

  I did so, cranking the handle on the old steel grinder until I found a rhythmic pattern.

  “Now what?’

  “Now focus. Focus on the action which you are performing. Focus on the simple mechanics of the device which you are using. The handle turns, round and round, cogs, wheels and teeth.”

  I watched the rotation of the handle and visualised the internal workings. I saw cogs, one linking into the other, as they worked towards the solitary goal of operating the rows of grinding teeth.

  “Round and round,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, “Teeth interlinking with teeth, merging with each other, working together for a single purpose. A simple purpose, the grinding of coffee beans. And it is a purpose the machine performs with unchallenged, unwavering perfection; a master of the art. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  My arm continued the repetitive motion, hand gripping the wooden handle. Fro
m inside the grinder came a metallic whirring noise like a tiny engine chugging as it attempted to fire up.

  “Feel the cogs, become familiar with their purpose. Know the mechanics; become intertwined with their characteristics.”

  My focus intensified to a pin-point, thoughts becoming lost in the simple action that became the centre of my world. My mind’s eye could see the chugging pieces of the grinder clicking into place, churning like clockwork.

  “Now,” she leaned forward, “Find your demon.”

  “What?”

  “Your days of attempting to contain it are over. It’s time to get it out, one way or another. Find its place of residence within yourself.”

  Doing this would ultimately draw my demon into the physical world. “Selena if I…”

  “Do not flinch from it; your fear gives it power. Reach for the emotions. You know them now. It is no secret.”

  Indeed, it was no secret.

  I reached for the memories and tore down the walls behind which they were hidden. The scene began to play.

  My father entering into the living room, stumbling on the carpet and striking his head…

  The flame in my stomach ignited like a furnace. My cheeks burned and lips began to tremble. Sweat sprang out on my forehead.

  Now I felt it. Now I felt the Spirit which Benny and Selena had insisted I possessed. It crackled violently into life around my body in a popping throng of energy. Amazingly even as I felt its intensity as being at least a dozen times more than previously, it continued to grow, soon engulfing me in twisting tongues of raw Spirit.

  Simultaneously there was a sensation of the energy splitting off into a river and dispersing, a flowing stream into an internal black hole. This was the energy which was supplying my tuxedo wearing friend.

  “Now dump it!” Selena barked, “Drop it into the grinder! Do it now!”

  I switched my focus to the grinder and my spirit followed obediently. As if an invisible dam wall had been lifted the inwardly directed river changed its course. It flowed into the grinder and swirled into the still rotating gears, dispersing.

  The process continued for five minutes. I worked the handle and allowed the energy to flow safely away. Soon results became apparent as the energy showed signs of becoming slacker in its flow, as if a full bathtub gurgled away down an opened drain.

  After another five minutes it had drained completely.

  I let out a deep breath, my arm aching from ten minutes of non-stop grinding.

  “Well done,” Selena said flatly.

  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” I replied, wiping sweat from my face, “but it seems a much lengthier task than I first assumed.”

  “The first time always is. As long as you continue to perform the ritual regularly and do not allow for a build-up, it should take no more than a few moments.”

  “Good.”

  “Practice. Daily. I would recommend twice a day for the first month. At least once every second day after that. Would you like me to write this down?”

  I shook my head. “No. Anything else?”

  “Yes. I would recommend developing an interest in coffee as of today. The more Spirit you direct into the habit, the less there will be for your demon. Take it seriously. It will spiral out of control very quickly if neglected.”

  “Got it.”

  “I need not tell you that the bond is now completed. Understand this. There is virtually no way to be free of your demon from this point. I recommend finding joy in the coffee. It will be easier. In time, you may even forget the purpose of the coffee all together. This would be preferable.”

  Honestly the idea of the coffee obsession appealed to me. There seemed to be something awfully sophisticated about the whole affair, and I could already imagine the time I would spend smelling fine coffee’s in a snobbishly critical fashion.

  “Then we are done,” Selena declared unceremoniously, “I will send your certificate of completion to the Department of Magic. Good day, Mister Clarence.”

  She turned and headed for the sliding doors. I watched her go, filled with a crushing feeling of loss. Every fibre in my body screamed for me to stop her. To at least make some attempt at saving the situation.

  “Selena!”

  She stopped in mid stride, looking back over a shoulder. “Was there something else?” I thought I detected a glint of expectation.

  But I had not thought past calling her name. My lips flapped; no sound emerged. Part of me wanted to confess love. Regardless of the fact that I had no real connection to the word, and did not believe it genuinely explained what I felt, I just wanted to say it. That’s what people did in the movies, didn’t they? A confession of a love: a tearful girl, embracing, everything working out for the best. If I had thought about it, I would have said something like; “Would you mind if I called you?” Or perhaps; “Maybe we could have coffee some time?”

  I said none of these things.

  Instead, I settled for; “Thanks.”

  “Very good, Mister Clarence.”

  And then she went inside and was gone.