Price vs. Prized
He came to me with magic. His purple hat with its wine satin sash whispered of rabbit ears and miracles. He said he wouldn't perform for free. I asked how much and he said "Enough". I thought, Enough was reasonable. I had Enough to give. I could spare Enough. So i asked him to show me his tricks. The first thing he pulled out of his hat was a smile, just for lil ol' me. Perfect and pouty. I tried it on. I looked good with a smile. I asked him if I could keep it and he pretended to consider it. He always knew i was going to ask and that he was going to make me pay. Foolish as i was, I thought I was getting a smile for the bargain price of Enough.
Then he pulled out laughter. It was a lovely fuchsia powder which you mixed in water and drank. It smelt like pink brandy and it tasted like delirium. It was heady. He teased me and raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. Gullible as I was made to be, I nodded my eager head giving away more than just that. I had just pawned a part of my soul. And I had absolutely no clue. Next he pulled out a puppy dog with the most restless tail. He was soft and I wanted to hold him so. Love. Beautiful, faithful love. He didn't have to even ask. I reached my willing hands shamelessly to him. The soft mass of liveliness and adoration cost me the rest of what I could call mine. I traded universes of possibility and galaxies of hope for that one instant of pure, unshared, whole love. Oh sublime love. Oh sweet love. Puppy love and a permanent leash. "What are you going to call him?", the magician asked me. "Mine. I'm going to call him Mine." "Oh that is just perfect." I liked to please everyone. It pleased me when I've pleased someone. And at moment I was very pleased with the magician being pleased with me.
He stuck his hand into his tophat again. I waited with bated breath. It was a box of colours. At first I made my premature disappointment apparent by blowing a raspberry. That offended the magician. He glowered and I cowered. But then he was just playacting. He knew he had already laid claim to my spunk. He would carry it away in a spunk-proof cage. I was so foolishly enamoured by his magical imagery, and I thought I had Enough and more. Already my tongue was making a hasty and disgraced retreat back into my mouth. I have never felt this apologetic in my life. Not ever. And here I was, dilated pupils like tulip blossoms. Pupil. Tulip. No lip from me. No sir. He liked my subservience, yes. And brought the mundane box of colours for a closer inspection. I couldn't touch it, of course. Fat colour pens, with things of wonder floating in them. Clouds and stars, fairies and kisses, hugs and stardust, friendship bands and love letters, birthday cakes and surprise presents, horses and fame, rainbows and presents tied in ribbons. Dreams. Sweet, sweet ones. Big ones, small ones, happy ones, sweet ones. Dreams. I wanted them all. I wanted more than Enough. So much more. Dreams that would keep me awake at night. Dreams that would steal the blackness of restful sleep and leave instead the branding of skeleton-coloured nights. Dreams that would make the night settle in bags under my eyes. But I didn't know that. I thought Enough would cover all my expenses. Enough included all my parent's love, all my childhood treasures, all my innocence, all my spunk, individuality, all my goodness and some spare sacrifice. But Enough was not enough. The magician made his invoice. I asked for it. He gave it to me with put-on reluctance. I think his eyes glinted. Did he register me as an infrared image of vulnerability? Eve's child. I eagerly took it from it. What a shock! I had grossly miscalculated. I was severely in his debt.
Smile, laughter, love and dreams. Those were engraved in my fate. And I was to give it my all in return for them. They were my destiny. And I would be their prisoner forever. I would pursue them doggedly. Because I asked for them and I couldn't afford to pay for them right away. Credit collector. And I was running out of time. The hands of karma completed yet another revolution. It was nearly time.
Did I strike a deal with god or the devil? I hadn't a clue. Minutes after that, my mother delivered me in a gory macabre of excessively dramatic proportions. I yelled like hell. And thus I registered my presence on earth. Destiny, here I come.
