The Owl, Lucia Morosanu [best book clubs .txt] 📗

The Owl

For a moment, the room stopped spinning around Jason. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. The stench of sweat and filth made its way to the lowest pits of his stomach and he cringed. He realized he had been out, but he didn’t know for how long. As he looked ahead, he noticed wide, green eyes staring back unblinking. He slowly tilted his head. The eyes mimicked his movement. Jason frowned, trying to understand at what he was looking. The face had human features, but at the same time they seemed out of place and wrong. The yellowy face was oddly proportioned, the skin hard and callous.

“Who the hell are you? And why are you painted like an owl?” asked Jason, his voice raspy.

“I am here for you, Jason” said the owl.

“Right… You do realize you look like a meth head who decided to become an owl, don’t you? And how come you know my name?”

“If you think a bit harder, you will understand. I know all names when the time is right. But, the important thing for now is that you can see me.”

“What the hell kind of an answer is that? And why wouldn’t I be able to see you? You’re right in front of me. Do you think you’re invisible or something? I thought that once and I ended up being kneed in the groin by a girl in the lady’s bathroom. It wasn’t fun, I can tell you that. Just because you think you’re invisible, that doesn’t mean you actually are.”

The owl was silent. Jason frowned again. There was something about those eyes that made him unable to look away. The color was deep and rich, and the shape wide and round. He blinked rapidly as though to break the spell.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have owl snack on me right now to give you. What do you want?”

“What do YOU want?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake; do you understand what you’re being told, or do you just repeat whatever you hear?”

“I could ask you the same question and it would be just as valid.”

Jason gave a long sigh. The owl was starting to get on his nerves. He forced his eyes to look away. There was nothing on which he could focus his attention. He moved his gaze from blurred shape to even blurrier shape. He turned back to the owl.

“Apparently, you’re the only thing I can see for now. This is the last time I tell that asshole drug dealer to surprise me when he asks what I want. What happened to this world when you can’t trust your friendly, neighborhood drug dealers?” asked Jason, giving a short laugh.

He thought that the joke might drag out some sort of emotion from the owl, but he was wrong. It was sitting, just as placid and as peaceful. Jason observed the frail and pale shape of the owl’s body. It was naked but for a long, brown skirt that covered the lower part. There was nothing frightening or menacing about the creature. It almost looked forgettable. Like another nameless body, drifting somewhere in his peripheral vision. Even with the odd colors and questionable features, the owl’s body could go undetected; everything except those eyes.

“The first thing you told me was that you were here for me. That means that I should know you, but do I?” asked Jason, struggling to get up from the floor.

“You do. Everybody does. I have been here since the beginning of life. But, at this moment, I am here for you,” said the owl.

“Again with the saying of the words, but not the making of the sense,” said Jason, annoyance building in his voice.

He took a deep breath and tried to arch his back, but the muscles of his shoulders felt as hot as fire and as stiff as a poker. He relaxed to stop the pain.

“My muscles are all swore. I think I’m going to be here for a while, so might as well get to know each other. So, for some strange reason you already know my name. I’m not going to ask again why, because I have a strange feeling you’re going to tell me about the ethereal quality of the human spirit and I’m too tired for that. But, do you have a name?” asked Jason.

“I go by many names, each person, each culture calls me something different. But, I have always been and forever will be the same.”

“So, I was right! You’re answers are getting weirder and weirder. I feel like with every answer you give me I just get more and more confused. You know what? If you said that each person gives you a different name, I’m going to give you one myself. I’ll just call you Owly. You know, because you look like a fucking owl.”

The creature was silent and still. It almost looked like it wasn’t breathing. Jason thought whether other people could see this creature, or if he was hallucinating. He had met a lot of odd characters during his drug adventures. He remembered one time after shrooms he had a very lengthy conversation with a five-headed otter that told him to quit his job and open a tea shop named ‘The Jasmine Dragon’. But the creature sitting in front of him was by far the weirdest. He wanted to reach out, but his arms felt paralyzed. He looked down and noticed the needle sticking out of his left arm. He tried to flex it. A fast flash of pain numbed him. He bit his lips to stop the shouting from escaping his mouth. He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. Second by second, his pain receded, but not fast enough for him. It had been a long time since Jason last felt this bent.

“If you do not get out of here, you are going to die,” said the owl.

Why can’t I move my body? How long have I been out? I need to call someone to help me up, or this weirdo might be right, thought Jason, trying his best to keep his mind away from the pain.

He opened his eyes and looked around. He knew there should be other people there, but the room was poorly lit and his eyes were still unfocused. Shades of grey and brown danced in front of him, but they made no sense or shape.

His body felt weak; weaker than he could ever remember. He knew he had to get out of that place and go somewhere he could be safe until he was again in control. He remembered he had some money in his back pocket, probably enough to get home. He tried to make a mental plan.

Ok, he thought. First, get this needle out, because I have no idea how long it’s been in there. Secondly, get up and lose the creep and his fucking premonitions because he’s bumming me out. Thirdly, get home and take a shower. And maybe some McDonald’s on the way because I’m starving. But I’ll need someone’s help.

He opened his eyes and looked at his arm again. He tried again to move. He couldn’t.

“Owly, could you do me favor? Could you pull this out for me real quick?” asked Jason, looking at his left arm.

“I think it is not necessary. If you choose to live, you will need it,” said the owl.

“Aren’t you just fucking hilarious? I meant the needle; the metal thing sticking out. I’m not sure how long it’s been in there and I don’t want it to keep my vein open. I would do it myself, but I’m afraid I can’t really move for now.”

The owl came closer and with both hands, took out the piece of metal with great care. It looked at it for a few seconds, examining it from every side as though to understand it, but threw it away over its shoulder. Jason tried to focus on the chest of the creature. The texture looked like skin, but it was blue and green. The colors were overlapping in weird patterns. They almost looked like feathers.

So, this idiot is actually real. Good to know, thought Jason.

“Nice tattoos; must have hurt like hell to get them,” said Jason.

“They are not really there. They are just details to make you remember.”

“Make me remember what?”

“Why I am in this form.”

“I don’t know what you took man, but I have to try it next time.”

“The next moment is promised to none,” said the owl, in a stern voice.

“You’re really getting annoying and the fact that your answers managed to make me more confused is not really pleasant either. And listen, I know I can’t really move right now and I’m pretty sure I’m standing in a pool of my own shit and cum, but I know I’ve been worse. Once, after I snorted too much cocaine I ended up not sleeping for three days. I was concerned at first, but a week later I was good as new. I’ll be fine after I get home and take a hot bath and a long nap,” said Jason, a small smirk forming on his tired face.

The owl sat crossed-leg in front of him. Jason noticed the yellowy tint of the creature’s feet. There was no hair on the legs, but there were some scars.

“So…are you going to help me out of here?” asked Jason.

“You are now on the edge of death. The only one who can decide if you live or die is you. What do you decide, Jason? Do you want to live?”

What the fuck is wrong with this guy? thought Jason. He was still having doubts whether the creature in front of him was sane or not. But he had no other choice but to talk to it. He still couldn’t see or hear anyone familiar around him. He stared at the owl. The ominous eyes demanded a response. He thought he should do something more drastic to increase his chances of getting himself out of the current situation.

“Of course I want to live, you crazy asshole!” yelled Jason.

“Then get up and get out of this place, because otherwise this will be your tomb.”

Jason frowned at the creature. He felt anger building in his chest, like lava bubbling inside a volcano. He hated that he couldn’t focus on anything around him. He hated that his body was not obeying him and he was now hopeless and at the mercy of strangers. He felt a storm of rage form somewhere deep inside his core. But most of all, he felt a great flame of hate for the owl in front of him.

“What do you choose?” asked the owl again.

“I’m going to live!” shouted Jason, the words scratching his throat as they were spitted out.

“Then get up and walk away. If not, follow me.”

“Follow you where?”

“I cannot tell you. I can only show you.”

“For fuck’s sake. Get away from me! I’m done with this place and with your bullshit. I need to get home before you eat my liver, or some fucked up shit like that. I’m not going to end here!”

Jason tried to stand up. He pushed his back to the wall as hard as he could. He could feel his muscles ignoring his orders. Try as he might, he could only hunch his shoulders. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breath. I can do this, he thought. He tried again, but his body disobeyed. Pain rushed from every movement. He was trapped in his own body.

As he was focusing on his control, he felt a hand on his wrist. He opened his eyes and looked down. As through mist, he saw a hand with a familiar ring on the thumb. It was his friend, Mike.

“I’m still alive, you asshole,” said