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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Fantasy · #1836856
And imaginative telling of what it's like to be schizophrenic
                                                          The Mad Magician and the Two Heads
                                                                        By Joe Pool




      One morning, in a cold grey cave, a lonely and slightly mad magician clutched a shining bottle and poured over an old, thick spell book.  Totally absorbed in what he was doing, he was startled, and more than a little disturbed, when a bodiless head slowly grew out the side of his body.  It was surrounded by a pinkish-orange glow, and a glittering golden string, floating lazily in mid-air, attached the head to the magician’s torso.  The head bared its pointed teeth and laughed. 
    The magician dropped the bottle.  It rolled away from the magician and into a corner of the cave where it made a faint clink as it hit the wall.  It was at that moment the head began to speak.
    Before the head could get more than a word out, the terrified magician put his fingers into his ears and looked in the opposite direction.  This proved to be useless as another head started to emerge from the other side of his body.  This one was attached by a thick string, shining like silver.  The second head, too, had a glow about it, but it was more of a bright, white light.  It floated upwards until it was level with the magician’s head.  The magician dared to look at it and found it to be smiling at him. 
    If the magician hadn’t been plugging his ears he would have heard a grunt of disapproval from the first head.  But, since he had his ears plugged, he looked fearfully away from the smiling head and straight at the first one.  It now wore a grimace upon its face.
    The magician scrunched up his eyes and bent forward at the waist until his nose was an inch from the ground.  He stayed there for a few moments, breathing shallowly and rapidly.  Once he started to calm down a bit he, bravely, sat up and opened his left eye and looked at the second head. 
    The smiling head was still looking at him.  “Hello, Vadim,” it said. 
    The magician opened his other eye and stared, wide eyed.  He was still staring when he heard the first head say, “Manners, manners” it said.
    The magician, though still in shock, was annoyed.  He had manners.  It was just that it had been while since he had anyone to talk to.  He turned to the first head and said nothing. 
  “It’s okay, “the second head said from the other side.  “You can talk to us.  Well.”  It paused.  “It’s okay to talk to me.”
    “What about me?” asked the first head.  “Don’t I count, too?”
    “Don’t listen to him, said the second head.  “He’s trying to hurt you.”
    “What, and you’re the big help?” countered the first head.  “You don’t want to help him.  You are the one who wants to change him; to get him to be something he is not.”
    “No, I’m not,” said the second head a little heatedly.
    “Yes you are.”
    “No.  I am not.”
    “Yes….”
    “Quiet!” the magician yelled.  “Enough!”  He scrambled to his feet and made his way over to the entrance to his cave.  The sun was shining, and he stood there for a moment feeling the warmth upon his face.  His head cleared a bit.  But when he opened his eyes the two heads were still there, side by side right in front of the magician’s face.
    “ARGH!”  The magician screamed in frustration.  He reached up into the left sleeve of his robe and pulled out his wand.  He pointed it at the two heads. 
    Stepping back a few paces, he tried to put some distance between himself and the heads so he could cast a spell.  Any spell would do it seemed.  But the strings attaching the heads were short, making it hard for the magician to get a direct shot.  The heads followed him like helium balloons.
    He turned and ran to the corner of the cave and picked up the shining bottle.  He faced the floating heads and gripped the cork of the bottle so hard his knuckles turned white.  “All I have to do is open this bottle, “he said with a scowl on his face, “and you’ll both be sorry.”
    The first head laughed loudly.  “And what will happen to us if you do open your pretty bottle?” he sneered.  “Will we be blown sky high or something equally unlikely?”
    “You’ll be burnt to a crisp, “the magician said, still gripping the cork.  “This is a Bottle of Fire.  If I open it, flames will come shooting out of it; flames hotter than those of the sun.”
    The first head frowned.  “And what have we done to deserve this?”  A tear rolled down its cheek.
    The magician didn’t know what to say.  He stood there still breathing rapidly. 
    “Leave, “he finally managed to say.  “Just leave this place and leave me alone.”
    “I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said the second head.  “We’ve been assigned to you.”
    “Assigned?”  the magician gasped.  What do you mean “assigned?”
    “I was sent here to watch over you, “said the second head, his tears drying upon his face.  “To make sure you don’t make any mistakes.”
    “And I was sent here to mess with you, “said the first head smiling for the first time.  “And judging by what’s happened so far, “he nodded at the bottle, “I’d say I’m doing a pretty decent job.”
    The magician glared at the first head and said nothing.  He turned to the second head and said, “I don’t need a babysitter.  I am an adult.”
    “Yes, but you’ve made mistakes in the past, “said the second head.  “I don’t want that to happen again.”
    “Mistakes are…are… inevitable,” fumbled the magician.
    “Yes, but you haven’t always learned from your mistakes,” said the second head with a stern look upon its face. 
    The magician was silent.  Barely conscious of what he was doing, he lowered the bottle.  The first head laughed again and said, “Gotcha!”
    “That’s not true, “whispered the magician.  “I learn.  It’s just that it takes me longer to learn than other magicians.  I learn in my own time and in my own way.  Plus, ‘he continued, “I’m a little bit slow, and I learn from doing rather from watching or listening.”
    The first head yawned a great yawn.  The second head, however, grew brighter and brighter, almost blinding the magician.  “You may think that’s a good enough reason, but you are wrong,” it said.  “There are no excuses for your behavior.  It is best to aim for perfection.”
    “But, that’s….” the magician started to say.
    “Don’t say it!” commanded the second head.  “Don’t you ever say that word!”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s…. limiting.”
    The magician chewed his lip.  Raising the bottle again he snarled at the second head, “You are trying to get me to be something I am not.  I am not perfect.  I am not like other magicians and I will not pretend to be.  And if you can’t accept that, I’m afraid I will have to open this bottle.  And I will aim it directly at you.”
    “Go for it, “coaxed the first head.  “Do it.  You’ll feel lots and lots better.”
    The magician paused and then turned to the first head.  “I shouldn’t listen to you either.”  He gritted his teeth.  “Get out before I make you get out.”
    “Good luck getting rid of us, “jeered the first head.  The second head nodded in surprising agreement.
    “Fine,“ said the magician.  A determined looked appeared on his face.  He straightened his spine and strode over to his spell book.  He sat down and began to furiously flip through the pages.  The heads bobbed along beside him, both of them staring at the magician with smug smiles on their faces. 
    It was near the end of the book when the magician finally found what he was looking for.  He held the page down with one hand and quickly read the spell.  A slow smile spread across his lined face.  He got to his feet, his spine still straight.  He bent his arm back and opened his hand.  A ball of light appeared in his hand.  Eyes blazing, the magician aimed.  “I release you!” he shouted, releasing the ball of light and casting it at the first head.  “I release you from me and return you back to where you belong!”
    The first head’s eyes grew wide as the ball of light cut the glittering string in half.  The head had no time to say anything before it flew out of the cave, the now dull string trailing behind it.
    The magician turned to the second head.  It looked scared.  “What about my assignment?” it squawked. 
    “You should get a new job, “replied the magician.  He repeated the incantation and released another ball of light.  The silver string broke free of the magician with a ping, and in less than a second the head zoomed out of the cave, headed back to wherever it had come from.
    The magician was panting.  He slowly walked over to the cave’s entrance and looked at the sky.  Satisfied, he slid his wand back up his sleeve and made his way back to his spell book.  Sitting down, he smiled at the book before flipping back to where he was before he was interrupted, and got back to work. 
    He wasn’t sure if the heads, or anything else similar to them, would come to haunt or harass him again, but if they did, he would be ready.     
   
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