Not A Fluke

We went back into the shop, which had the acrid stench of something left on a George Forman Grill for about twelve minutes too long. Buck ran behind the counter, grumbling, and flipped the charred bacon into the trash can. He cast me a disgruntled look. "If you hadn't blown up, we could be eating perfectly cooked, crispy bacon right this minute. Now we have to start all over."

I laughed. "Okay, but what if I blow up again?"

"Then I eat the bacon by myself. You said you'll be fine, so I'm not gonna worry if it happens again. Where'd you go, anyway?"

I realized I hadn't told him my perspective. While he laid strips of raw bacon on the grill, I filled him in on the odd blast of color and sensation, and that I'd come back to myself in my own bedroom.

"So you teleported home?"

"I guess so."

"And it didn't hurt?"

I considered. "Well... it was really uncomfortable. Like I didn't have a body. No, more like I had a body but it was made of smoke or something. I was all shifty and I felt like things were passing through me, but there was nothing except this insane mess of colors... I don't know. But it wasn't painful, no."

Buck looked at me for a moment, considering, then finally nodded. "I wanna try!"

"Um... okay?"

"It sounds f*****g trippy and awesome! Where's that book?"

We looked around, and I spotted the slim leather volume on the floor next to my reading chair, looking innocuous. I picked it up, looking through page after page of nonsense for those special syllables. "Here," I said, handing the book to Buck, feeling bizarrely jealous. I was terrified of the stupid thing, but for some reason I felt like it was mine. 

I pointed to the little string of looping, scratchy characters (Yayin Aayatana, I seemed to hear,) and stood back. "Okay dude. Hit it. Just... say it out loud."

Buck stared at the page for a moment. He squinted. "This doesn't say anything. How am I supposed to pronounce this? Hrr'kkh-k? Because that's what it looks like."

"No, just look. It'll make sense. Sort of."

"This isn't even letters!"

I leaned forward and pointed carefully to the beginning and end of the phrase, slowly. "From here to here. Just look at it."

"It still looks like... I don't know, f*****g Goblin or something. I don't speak Goblin. Just tell me what it says." He was starting to look annoyed.

I rolled my eyes. That actually made a lot more sense. "I don't know what language this is supposed to be, but it says... what the hell? Um... something like ayaya yaama... no... s**t. I can't remember."

"Are you serious?"

I was. The words were gone, vanished from my memory as though I'd never heard them. I remembered speaking them aloud, but it was like I'd just made some funny noises and my brain hadn't bothered to write them down. "Let me see the book for a second."

"All right, you do the Goblin thing. I'm gonna take the bacon off."

He went behind the counter after grabbing some paper towels, while I flipped through the book. Maybe I'd shown him the wrong string of nonsense. On a page near the back, though, there it was. (Yayin Aayatana) It shone among a page full of scribbles. I looked up to Buck and opened my mouth to tell him the words, but in that brief instant I'd already lost them. 

What the f**k.

Buck looked up from his project, bacon dangling from his mouth. "You find it yet?"

"Yeah, but... this is gonna sound crazy, but I think I can't remember what it says unless I'm looking at it. Not even for a second."

"Well," Buck mused thoughtfully, gnawing on bacon, "I guess nothing's especially weird. Under these circumstances."

"Good point."

"Okay, so just read it to me while you're looking at it."

Without thinking, I nodded and looked to the page, found the squiggly little phrase, and began to speak. This time, I actually noticed my voice growing strong and resonant, echoing powerfully off itself, like I was speaking into a microphone with the reverb set to nine.

"Yayin Aaya-" 

I forced myself to stop, gasping for breath, my stomach heaving. I almost fell over, but managed to catch myself, although a powerful vertigo forced me to sit down immediately. Buck was staring at me, the bacon in his hand forgotten.

"Why'd you stop?"

I tried to catch my breath. "Started to happen... again... everything... got stretchy. Freaked." I heaved a sigh. "I don't think I can tell you what it says without it... happening. You know?"

Buck smacked himself on the forehead in the ancient Eureka! gesture. "Duh! Because reading it out loud was what made it happen. Man, we're dumb."

I sat there, panting, waiting for the dizziness to go away. It had been hard to stop the phrase from finishing. I'd basically had to wrench my eyes away from symbols that had suddenly become hypnotic, fascinating... and the instant my gaze shifted, the words had stopped, falling out of my mind like running water. 

What was this book, and where the hell had Beck found it?

And why would she think it was mine?

Buck spoke up, breaking the silence. "So... I guess it's only gonna work for you, then."

"What? Oh, the book. Uh... I guess. Sorry."

"It's fine, dude. I'm not gonna get upset about not blowing up. But why does it work for you? Why did Beck have a book that's full of weird magic scribbles that only you can read? That seems like a bizarre coincidence."

I thought about it. This book clearly hadn't been mine, and Beck seemed to think it wasn't hers. Why would she have my book?

This book. Not my book. I had to stop thinking of it that way. "All right, I'm gonna call Beck."

"Too soon, man."

"Not about... us. About the book. Just to figure out where it came from." I fished out my cell phone while Buck shook his head. Surprisingly, I had a text message waiting for me.

FROM: Beck

05:48 PM

need to talk to you. might have left you something i need. out of work @ 10.

"That's weird."

"What?"

"She texted me like right after she left here. And she says she left me something important. Do you think...?"

Buck looked at my book and grinned. "Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise."

"That doesn't make any sense. What time is it?"

"Like... seven."

So I had three hours. Three hours to wonder about this stupid object before any chance of an answer might come. Suddenly I understood Beck's feverish need for information. "Okay... I'm gonna try this thing again. Maybe I'll notice more this time. Don't freak out if it takes me awhile to come back. You've got my cell number."

"Be careful," Buck muttered, watching me closely.

I opened my book to that page in the back, found the now-familiar scribble, and felt the words burning in my mind, desperate for release. It was like having a song stuck in your head, or some forbidden curse. I needed to hear myself say it, desperately, immediately.

The words tumbled out of my mouth, echoing against the inside of my skull, and the world pulled away from me as though it was disgusted with what I'd done.

*