Mandragora: The Librarian

The kids were all around a stone piled dock down the rocky waterside hill, where colourful wooden houses had their deep laden foundations. On Ogma Island It can get so windy that a sturdy foundation is essential. The summers are mild and the winter’s cold. It was a good day for fishing and Tayls, ten years old, had already caught five devilfish that must have added up to twice his own weight. The other boys weren’t catching anything however and they started to ask him how he’d been so lucky.

“It’s just a feeling I get… it tells me where to cast…”

Leil his heavyset friend stood up and poked fun.

“All you’re catching are those wretched devil fish they’re so ugly- look at the hardened skin and those ugly spikes.”

The other boys laughed then Tayls stood up and smacked Leil across the head.

“I don’t sulk.” He said.

Leil punched him in the stomach and Tayls fell to the ground. Leil looked around at the other boys sitting around the stone piled dock and sneered. While Leil and Tayls play fought and rolled around some of the other boys reeled in their lures to watch, while others were too focused on fishing to bother. Leil the larger of the two boys was cocky and didn’t see that Tayls’s move was to swing a trip and not regain his balance. It wasn’t long before the other kids took up their fishing rods again and returned to casting. Under the hot sun of the calm summer’s afternoon by the ocean they both lay down to catch their breath and looked up at the sky.

“It’s warm today.” Tayls said

“Very warm” Replied Leil.

Leil turned to Tayls shocked and said

“You have some white hair!”

“What no… don’t joke about that!” Tayls replied.

At hearing this all the other kids reeled in their lures at once while Tayls stood up and went over to the edge of the water to look at his reflection. The other boys already knew but he didn’t believe it yet.

All of the kids followed him home some of them whispered but it was a quiet walk up hill, along the wooden boardwalk that winded side to side up the hillside. His house had white-rimmed round windows and blue shingles made from wood that was now chipping from all the fog that rolls over Ogma Isand season in and season out. His yard yard like many others had pin and chokecherry trees. The house was small and mostly submerged underground below the slope of rocky hillside. It had been in his family for generations. He turned back to face the kids who had followed him out of respect and nodded goodbye.

Inside his mother was walking down the hallway to greet him “Oh my gosh… Tayls what did you do to your hair… tell me this is some kind of joke. That better be bird shit in your hair.”

“No, it isn’t… its real.” Tayls said.

“Haifres…Our son … Come here… Now!”

Haifres his father stomped into the entranceway and by then quiet tears streaked Tayls’s face.

“I see… Let’s have a family meeting?” He said turning to his wife “Is dinner about ready?” He asked.

“Well yes…” She replied

“I’ll help.” Haifres said.

Outside the window, the sun was dipping- revealing a few left over clouds caught lonely above the reddened horizon. Tayls’s whole family was gathered around the long white pine wooden table that had been in his family for generations, once used to butcher livestock the scars and blood stains were still visible. The whole family gathered for dinner- his little brothers and sisters- his older sister and brother and his parents. There was a somberness in the air- staleness on the faces of his family and he was careful not to let loose as he had done earlier at the doorway. His father interrupted the unusual silence:

“Tayls you have two choices, I think you know them, you can leave Ogma Island or you can become a librarian.”

His two little sisters were laughing and playing under the table with raggedy fish dolls and squeaky voices and it was then that he knew how much he would miss his family. His mother quietly wept as he spoke up:

“I will study to become a librarian.”

His father slammed down his fist on the table:

“Well than by the gods you better study hard.”

Tayls stayed up all night scrambling to remember everything. By the time a halo rose out of the distant waters he had already packed his begs. Ready early- his younger brother of three years old had heard him and knocked. Tayls opened his door and the brightness of his room, from the sunrise that peered through his window that overlooked the ocean spread out into the hallway.

“When are you coming back?” His little brother asked.

“When you’re old enough to swim out to the halo of the sun.” He replied.

“I’m too young now, maybe when I’m four.” He said rubbing the sleep sand out of his eyes.

“Maybe.” Tayls said.

Tayls’s younger sister walked out of her room grinning.

“Can I have your room while you’re gone?” She asked.

“It’s alright by me, you better move your stuff before anyone else does.” Tayls said.

“Oh really.” She said.

With his younger brother helping with an open hand supporting one of the leather bags Tayls was carrying he made his way to the doorway.

“It’s not too heavy.” Tayls’s younger brother said.

His whole family but his mother gathered around the doorway- his little sisters fighting over an old worn out fish doll. His father called down to his mother who was hiding in her room.

“We’re leavin already! Aye your mother’s beside herself this morning too much sea grapes last night.” Haifres declared.

She slammed her bedroom door and crying walked upstairs from the basement. She hugged him straight away and kissed him on the cheek, hard pressed to look him the eye, she did long enough to say goodbye:

“I’ll see you one day I know it and then you can teach us…”

Tayls’s father took him by the hand- he said his goodbyes and lead him out the red pine door.

Tayls and his father walked along the wooden boardwalk road that wound from side to side all along the waterside hill. They past one floor yellow, blue and red houses, past their submerged greenhouses with roofs that rose out of the mossy ground and port holes from which steam arose. They came upon a nesting ground for puffins. With the advent of warmer weather the eggs were soon to hatch and the mothers we’re over protective, they squawked and squawked.

Further along the boardwalk Tayls and his father heard laughing and round the next bend they saw a few kids hammering old rusty nails that they were finding strewn about the rocky hillside and we’re assembling a kind of splintered shack with. Tayls and his father took a moment to look back and to breathe in the fresh sea air. They watched the crashing waves- their spray reaching for the sky and the birds that bobbed just close enough to the rocky shore so as not to be dragged in.

“Why me?” Tayls asked.

His father pointed at a puffin’s nest:

“Now watch carefully.” He said.

Tayls watched patiently and soon saw a Puffin waddling about watching over her egg. Out of the rocks the back of a crouching ferret that the puffin mother couldn’t see moved towards her nest.

“Why don’t I warn her?” Tayls asked.

“It’s not our place to interfere. There are unfathomable consequences.” His father replied.

They watched as the ferret maneuvered the rocks and reared itself to snatch the Puffins egg. The ferret sprang out from the rocks and the Puffin was so startled that she hovered in the air pecking at the ferret as she floated back down but it was too late the ferret had turned back around with the egg in it’s mouth and was already in the safety of the rocks.

His father looked at him and said:

“This will always be your home whatever happens this is your home Tayls.”

Continuing on their way it wasn’t long before they turned their last leg and were submitting the plateau of Ogma Island. The view wrapped around them endlessly and they were suddenly left daydreaming.

“I’m not tired any more.” Tayls announced.

“In ancient times our ancestors would come here to discuss the ways of the world.”

The top of the plateau stretched all the way to the center of Ogma island. There were skimpy larch tamarack trees that were all bent from battling the wind season in and season out. Approaching the entranceway to the library, wrapped in the blue sky the building was like a hexagonal sun. It had various protruding compartments that all curved towards the earth and folded in on itself at the ground forming a lining all along the base. There was a neat garden of hardy shrubs and low bushels and drooping plants and a neat stone path lead to the hooded entrance doors.

“If something blocks your view it can easily shift your direction.” His father said.

Inside at the reception booth a librarian took one look at Tayls and smiled.

“Welcome Tayls.” She said.

She then turned to his father addressing him:

“We can take him from here thank you.”

Haifres leaned over and wrapped his big arms around his son who gulped to keep from crying. His father whispered in his ear:

“Schedules help to be present minded… if you need to forget us then do it for us first and for yourself afterwards.”

They said their goodbyes and his father’s eyes were teary but he contained his sentiments as well as his ancestors who knew the sea like the backs of their swollen hands.

The woman was calm and composed. She had a sleek stern face, cold blue eyes and tight blue clothes.

“Welcome to the Ogma library- consider yourself fortunate. This will be your home now. It is here that you will be understood more than anywhere else in Mandragora.”

She approached looking him up and down:

“Alright how about a test?”

“Okay.” He said as she stood behind him.

“Good now stare at the wall… Good, now you can’t see it or smell it I hope but my hand is close behind your head, notice any feelings…”

“Feelings?” He asked.

“Quiet!” She said moving her hand further away.

“Okay now my hand is far away. Notice any feelings and calibrate.”

She then proceeded to randomly place her hand either far or close to the back of his head while he continued to stare at the wall. At every position she stopped and asked him if he thought her hand was close or far from the back of his head. Out of ten different positions he guessed every one correctly. She was so impressed that it was difficult for her to suppress herself.

“How propitious… You’ve a gift for sensory acuity… You’ll do just fine young Tayls.”

Seven years later

Tayls smiled, turned and entered the branch that was now to be his home for the next thirteen years and the door slid shut behind him. The layout was like eight interlocking octahedron shaped non curve-linear chambers- each with two open sides to pass through to other chambers. With the exception of the central chamber- which was for rest- every side was concave. At the center of each side was a looking glass- an oval seamed fuchsia yolk sac which once entered re-orients the neural peptides and perception for the engagement of repository experiences. The whole branch was organic- the walls were tissue and everything breathed.

The next morning lids peeled off of bulges on opposite sides of the non curve-linear arched ceiling. Tayls's carnation coloured womb-like-bed refrained from hugging his body and deflated.

“Home?” He wondered.

It wasn’t long before he left the central chamber and was looking at the brightness of various looking glasses as the brightness determines the intensity of the repository experience. Despite his training he was homesick and the larger the inventory of feelings he internalized the sooner he would be able go home even it was many years away. The more intensity he dealt with the swifter he would be able to internalize new feelings- this was a dangerous path he’d been warned against but he chose the brightest looking glass anyway.

He put his hand through the looking glass and it was thick and tepid to the touch. He stepped through and fell into it. Still as can be he floated and the yolk gelled from his wake. His body was eased to the back of the sac, where he then floated upward. His head rose into a walled in air pocket.

His eyes de-focused and blurred momentarily until coolness brought it back and with a shock he noticed a sight that made him forget that he was not of the repository world that had manifested. On a rock face wrapped in violet mycelium veins that infused all over- there was an old and wrinkled stranger with eyes of a child peering out blankly. He wanted to move to leave mere observation and engage the vicarious experience but it was forbidden.

Stuck in peripheral vision without a sense of her self- atrophy of the fovea centralis had set in. Her eyes were left beaming blankly to her side, to where the rock wall curved out of the enclave in which she lay suspended by the edge of moss patches and trickling mountain streams that zagged through the mycelium in narrow bands. This mycelium had grown over much of the cliff face in webs. Even the plants and far off trees were wrapped in this stuff.

On the rock wall where it had oozed out of the cracks too slow to watch this old woman- her predicament was binding. She was left in thoughts that we’re no longer her own but helped with forgetting the world.

“What’s happened?” Tayls said forgetting it was a ghost world. “It’s not real?” He repeated while abrubtly disengaging from the looking glass.

He’d had enough semblance for one day and was sweating and shaken. He retreated to the central chamber for rest however even while eating slowly it was not food that was the touchstone of his thoughts but the binding predicament that he couldn’t help wonder about. The old woman was terribly compelling for reasons that escaped him like the first dream of deep sleep.

The next morning the lids peeled off of bulges on opposite sides of a non curve-linear arched ceiling allowing daylight in and Tayls's carnation coloured womb-like-bed refrained from hugging his body and shrank. There was a cycle of squelches and the atmospheric pressure waned. The purple tissued walls ruffled and the amaranth pipes that branched inside throughout the walls slowly throbbed, accompanied by diminuendo moaning.

Thinking things over, his impetuous heart quickly took over. He’d never witnessed any experiences like that before. His mind was already made up despite any rationalizing it was only an after thought, an after taste like a side kick pretending to be the leader yet still he wondered whether she was even ready for to leave? Whether she’d become fed enough with the binding predicament to change. It appeared as though she had forgotten all about where she was so how could she possibly become fed up with it.

Standing before the bright fuchsia coloured looking glass he took a deep breath and wondered whether his compulsion would prevent him from helping her. He decided to engage her experience at an earlier time and approached, then entered the looking glass. He floated up to the tissue-domed air pocket and defocused until the other side was manifest.

There was a small white haired girl hurrying through the woods breaking branches, crying and murmuring. Although her head was down her toes struck a rock and she tripped ahead and fell. Her frustration was interrupted by the curious sight of strands of violet mycelium. She continued on, and further on passed more webs of mycelium. This time she almost tripped and it occurred to her that whatever this stuff was it was like a metaphor, like it was a warning of the places where she might trip and fall letting her know where to be careful. And so she followed it until one wondering strand lead into more. And she came upon another much larger mesh of webs as high as the ferns.

There was a wiry one eared hare with long spindly legs and she thought that it must have been the oldest in the forest. The hare was nibbling obliviously on the gooey mycelium. After gazing at it having it’s full, she knelt down to take a whiff and it was like a sweet fruit so she put her small hands inside and felt it’s cool spongy texture. She brought a scoop to her mouth and downed it. It was too much for Tayls to take in all at once and he withdrew. The yolk sac turned viscous once again easing him back out to the octahedron shaped chamber.

The next morning lids furled off bulges on opposite sides of the arched purple ceiling. Glowing bulbs revealed themselves and Tayls's womb-like-bed deflated from from his body. The womb spun open and he awoke to widening beams of early light.

“Is this home?” He wondered.

The organic walls discharged small amounts of blue effulgent puss like sweat through pores. He stepped out of the womb, stretched his arms and moved to the nectar orifice. He chose a bitter scent to get his day started. The murky walls of his library branch ruffled and inside pipes slowly pulsated, accompanied by diminuendo moaning. The purple walls tautened and after a hardy meal Tayls left for the inventory of looking glasses.

He paced back and forth shaking his head:

“How did this happen?”

He then penetrated into the viscous yolk sac. It was tepid as he floated into it emerging enough to breathe within the domed air pocket. Tayls’s eyes de-focused and blurred momentarily and through the looking glass he saw of the oldest hare in the forest but a tiny face nose and clipped ear. As for the girl, her hair was no longer white but dirty blond and she was no longer a small girl but middle aged and in seeing this- the coincidence struck him with the need for a reprise.

He withdrew to the domed tissued air pocket and accessed the experience that he had delved into on the very first day in this the branch of the Ogma Library that was now his own responsibility. He peered through and saw her eyes, which for the first time moved to his own. Against his better judgment he ceased to be still and did what was forbidden. He stepped through the looking glass and then knew that he would have to take the lower ground or suffer further compulsion. So before her he stood and they gazed at each other until the days warmth melted away. After hours of standing Tayls’s lower back had grown sore and his legs were throbbing yet still she gazed on stuck in peripheral vision refusing to focus even on him.

He knew that he had to take the lower ground but with his back aching he thought that there couldn’t be ground lower than the ground upon which she took her refuge. The leaves rustled and something deep within Tayls was allowing itself to be known and for the first time in his life something that could never have be taken was given. His feelings changed drastically and he yelled out through the forest and met with distant trills and chirrups- it resonated focus. He gave her the chance to feel the same effects that now compelled him and again he yelled: “It’s time!”

The fungus that had encased her so tightly bulged, brightened and then it sweat out puddles of oily residue. This sickly slime oozed over her body that twitched. Her eyes focused and liberated from peripheral vision as though revivified, she had energy enough to speak however so costly it seemed that he wondered if he shouldn’t just leave. He wondered whether he was putting too much pressure on her- whether he was too close yet she turned to him and spoke.

“Why are you wasting time pouring out false hope so recklessly? It’s disheartening! I was once a dignitary but after being treated like who I was being taught to be I left alone. I don’t deserve kindness… this is my home now. Isn’t it clear that I’m being taken care of? I know what there is… I know how to breathe, here, even if I’m helped… I’m needed… go now before you become too mired in it… it happens to those who gaze this way. It’s not me that’s appealing and it knows it. Don’t be deceived I’m old and lazy… I’m not as special as you think, I’m part of a family… Why don’t you be part of yours… I only know how to be what I was taught, but no person can know that as alone as you are.”

He took a deep breath and spoke:

“Your breathing helped, your energy symbiotically imparted, your dignity preserved because you’re lazy and unappealing. It understands this- so much so that it guards you from others who would believe otherwise and bring you the burden of false hope… you don’t need that… you need to be taken care of because your old and lazy. In fact you’re so decrepit only a space for breathing, only your mouth should be exposed to the open air… That way you could see its dedication and breathe for it only… Isn’t that what you’re already doing? What else but in thoughts of it can you be at rest can or safe and ignorant of your world but that’s your love isn’t it… Why move anyway?”

“I move but not in the way you know- a way with such solemnity… I move inside… How long did you stand there? Not long enough. You can’t ignore me because you think I’m something I’m not. Something that is in you that you move unto me. A part of you knows this. Leave before we shift your gaze…”

Tayls knelt by a grounded web of violet mycelium, scooped up some of the oily secretion like slime and took it to his mouth and tasted it with an after-flinch.

“What are you doing?” She said, “Don’t do that… It’s not for you.”

He swallowed it down.

“That’s enough…” She said louder then ever.

He felt his insides quiver and energy waste away. That night he kept eating and eating and felt his face sinking and sinking- his limbs caving in- his back hunching over- his skin drying and his bones bruising and chilled. By the next day when the sun was over the treetops even the warmth of day could not affect him. He wanted only to live in deep sleep.

Growing old lying before where she hung wrapped in violet mycelium, Tayls felt cold and was soon sweating only it was not sweat, it was the same oily secretion that had slowly spilled over her. As Tayls’s body was gradually covered and encompassed in the mycelium it’s voice grew louder until it was louder then his own, yet for all it’s sway it could not shift his gaze from hers. There was a growing comfort with its own guilt and he fought it with his training and endurance.

For five days the symbiotic mycelium encroached upon his body until it became like a necessary organ for his survival. On the fifth day she began to cry and for the first time since she gave herself to the helper of the helpless she wept. First the oily substance and then finally her own salty tears. They made brittle the mycelium bringing limpidness to it- enough that she was able to break her limbs out of its encasing. She fell to the ground unable to brace for the impact.

In a tired scramble her hands wondered until they came upon puddles that were the accumulation of mountain water that was ever impervious. She drank and drank from it regaining clarity and before long her old age washed away along with its memory. She stood up a brown haired child and before Tayls who was now an old man she yelled:

“L o o k out… O u t!”

The faint words came to his mind and with all the energy that could be cumulated he was able to speak:

“This isn’t real… it isn’t real.”

He repeated this over and over until he too gave way to tears.

His entrapment became brittle and his sore joints aggravating but he contorted and broke free. Lying on the ground out of breath, he looked up at the mysterious girl and barely managed to speak:

“I’ve confused you with the entirety of my experience.”

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I’m just a librarian.” He concluded.

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