Beautiful Lion
Short Fiction Story
By Michael A. Sullivan
‘Why are you such a little nightmare?’ Mother asked, rolling her eyes.
‘No I’m not!’ I turned to face her and waved my fingers, magically transforming her into a tiny robin redbreast, ’Why are you a bird?’ I retorted.
‘Oh! Now you’ve gone too far,’ she twittered, ‘Turn me back immediately!’ I shrugged and did as she asked, then we walked on.
We journeyed down the high street slowly, while browsing the various shop windows. Technically this wasn’t the actual high street, but an adjoining street. The bulk of what was actually considered “the high street” was much wider with bigger shops, and that was round the corner.
Mother enjoyed looking through the large panes of glass at the varied selection of items on display, and then she would walk to the next shop and look in that window too. She could not walk in a straight line, like me. I could walk in a perfectly straight line. I tried to teach her how to do it once, and she got mad at me.
The reason I wanted her to walk straight was because she would carelessly get in the way of all the passing clowns. Sometimes her staggered walking routine would inadvertently push me in the way of oncoming clowns too. Speaking of which, a familiar clown was approaching while Mother admired a clothed mannequin in one of the shop windows.
‘Hiya, Marian, how’s things? Not seen you in town for ages.’ said the clown.
‘Hey, Paul, fine I guess,’ Mother replied, then looked my way, ’This little git’s been acting up all day though.’ Her hands moved in quick motion as she spoke, she always did this when talking to anyone. If she had the magic fingers like me, I’d say she should use those fast hands of hers to banish this clown immediately and get him out of my sight! Only problem was that she’d be far too friendly with these wretched circus monsters.
‘Hey Danny Boy, my wee man,’ the clown addressed me. ‘How’s it going? You’re looking taller since I last saw you.’
I flinched after a brief moment of eye contact and then fixed my gaze down the high street to count the number of shops on the right-hand side of the road. I did not speak to clowns, and I’d avoid even looking at them when I could. Oh, Clown Paul, how he had ruined my day! I did not trust him one bit, I can tell you that. Honestly, I had no idea why Mother even entertained this buffoon. It was as if she had no idea how dangerous it could be when clowns revealed their true form.
There were a variety of them out in the town today, but this one Mother knew personally, and was one of the louder ones with the voice that boomed. My ears were already ringing with the clown’s noise … I re-counted the shops on the right-hand side, and then I counted the windows too. More and more windows than there were shops— this made sense. An issue arose in my mind when discovering the shops were an even number, and the windows an odd number. This suddenly made no sense to me at all, and I was finding it hard to process. I thought this would be a good distraction but it had ended up making things worse!
The discomfort I was feeling from all of this was beginning to overwhelm. Things were getting a bit too much now. I could still hear Mother and the clown, talking back and forth.
‘Well, you know how it is, Paul. The hospital trips are a palaver, getting the time off work and fitting it all in,’ Mother was saying, ‘I need to get things in order. I called my sister to see if she’d help out.’
‘If you need a hand just ask, I drive that route regularly and it’s not much of a detour to pass by your place.’ Clown Paul’s voice jarred.
I tried to comfort myself by closing my eyes and putting my fingers in my ears. I imagined where we’d just been, the big shop with the nice lights.
We went there a few times a year and I always felt content when we were there. I think it’s the way they spaciously organized the place, that’s what really made me appreciate it. On the top floor was a café, and after everything was done we’d go there to have something nice. Mother didn’t eat much, but I would enjoy the—this was not working—the anxiety was rising to an unbearable level. Clown Paul and Mother, all the noise, the cars going by. I tried to focus, but there was no comfort and just an increasing feeling of panic.
I was interrupted by firm hands on my shoulders, and I heard someone scream out suddenly. It was me, I was screaming and everything was spinning. If I opened my eyes I could see the lights trail and make patterns. I closed my eyes, the lightshow stayed but faded in and out. Now everyone was louder. Or was it just me? I could hear them all and yet so distant, with ears a million miles away. My ears were on the outside, I was on the inside. I felt like I was flying. Being carried away, I was a kite.
Commotion had finally ceased, I was now seated in the waiting area of a shuttle station. This was an inter-dimensional station where transportation knew no bounds. The possibilities were endless! Although, the shuttle we usually boarded would just take us back to our flat. I really liked this place a lot, with exception to these uncomfortable benches, and the walls with their miserable tone of blue. Nevertheless, I was very impressed with the technology they used. I once tried to ask the pilot if the transport systems were powered by magic, or perhaps some other cross-dimensional energy source. I didn’t get a clear answer so I assumed it was restricted information.
Overall, the station operated in a fairly simple fashion. Shuttles would arrive and depart regularly, taking a variety of entities where they needed to go. We would board shuttle number seventy-two here in order to return home. I scanned our surroundings and I could presently see no clowns in the vicinity …we were safe.
‘You’re a stupid little shit, you know that? Don’t you realise what you're doing to me!?’ Mother was whispering at me aggressively, trying not to make a scene, ‘You totally embarrassed me in front of Paul, and he knows everyone at work. This is going to get back to all of them.’
‘Our shuttle number is seventy-two,’ I reminded her, ‘And Paul is a Clown.’
‘Shut up, Danny!’ she raised her voice briefly and then lowered it again, ‘Just don’t say another word. And cut out all the clown shit, Paul’s been good to you over the years'.
‘Our shuttle will arrive at fifteen forty-five.’
I had just provided urgent and crucial information regarding our journey. It was currently fifteen twenty-nine according to the clock on the wall. That would give us fifteen minutes to prepare for shuttle entry. Mother was wasting time defending Clown Paul and she was not considering the issue with the clocks.
It could be assumed that station clocks were fairly accurate, although, there was always a level of doubt. Once or twice, the shuttle clock had not matched the station clock. My magical abilities were vast, but there were limits, and I could not use my powers to alter the passage of time. I’d attempted to do this on multiple occasions and the clock remained as stubborn as ever. That was simply one of those things I had to accept. I reminded myself that clocks were at least predictable, and in many ways I respected the clock’s refusal to bend to my magical whims. On the other hand, I could use my powers to transform most people into just about anything; a slimy slug, a dormouse, or even a dirty old pig. Last month, with the well-timed wink of my left eye, I turned the local checkout clerk into a baboon. The clowns however, they were a different story … One of the reasons I loathed them so much was that they had the terrible power to transform me into a complete nervous wreck.
Anyway, my point is that the clocks were stubborn and this is why Mother should have been paying attention to our current predicament. She had no idea how much chaos would be unleashed if we missed our shuttle – these things mattered. Mother was not interested in any of this, though, she was still angry.
‘I don’t give a toss about the bus times, Danny! I need you to cut this shit out, d’you get it? Can’t I just have a normal fucking day?’ she pleaded in a harsh whisper through her teeth, ‘I can’t always be there to fix things, Danny. Please just try to understand me?’
Mother sighed and sat down next to me on the bench to wait for the shuttle. She had been getting upset a lot more recently and I didn’t know how to make it better. The weekends were always really busy, maybe it was that and all the traveling. I’d noticed it was in the afternoons that she’d become so gloomy, in the mornings she was far more cheerful and optimistic.
On days like today, after we came back from the hospital, she’d be more likely to shout and get upset if things went wrong. She’d never let me in the special room where they gave her the medicine, I’d have to wait outside. I liked the hospital because I’d get to look at the different books and magazines, so it didn’t bother me to wait. I had superpower patience to wait for hours if I needed to.
She’d be different, though, after we came out of that place. That’s when she’d start to walk funny and get in the way of all the passing clowns. Things were a lot more confusing recently and it was quite difficult to understand why. All I knew is that I wanted things to be better. I knew it was never impossible to make things better.
I realised suddenly what needed to be done … Magically transforming Mother was the only option now. She was far too sad, and we should both cheer up for the shuttle trip home. I lifted my arms in the air to initiate my super-transformative powers.
‘I will turn you into a beautiful lion!’ I announced at full volume. An awkward echo pierced silence. I hadn’t meant to be so loud.
‘You don’t need to do that, Danny.’ Mother was looking down at her hands and twiddling her thumbs.
‘Well, for one thing,’ she looked up and smirked just slightly, ‘I won’t fit through the shuttle door if I’m a lion, right?’
'Oh, yes you’re right!’
‘And also, I don’t think we’re allowed to use magic in the shuttle station, I’m sure I saw a sign somewhere.’
‘Oh no!’ I had totally forgotten that this was a no-magic area.
‘Anyway, we’ve gotta go soon,’ she stood up and routed for our shuttle passes in her handbag as she spoke, ‘If you want, we can stop off at the corner shop and look at the magazines later?’
‘I’d like the one with all the pictures of animals!’
‘Yeah, well we’ll see, but don’t be upset if there’s nothing there.’
‘Right!’ I remembered, ‘The magazine man …’
I knew this, magazine men couldn’t be trusted. Sometimes the magazines weren’t in stock. I’d never seen the person who actually delivered them, but no doubt it was probably a clown in disguise.
‘Ok, c’mon let’s get in line, Danny. I wanna make sure we get seats.’
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