The Treatment

"Positive. Absolutely positive. That little green man will be gone in no time."

"And his pitchfork? Will it scratch my mind ever again?"

"You'll be your old self within days. You'll be bagging potatoes. No scratch that. Forget about bagging vegetables, you'll be running Cung Brothers Merchants in no time Larry!"

"Enough of the sweet talk. You need to work your magic before he returns."

"In the presence of a witch, no elf would dare to show his face I'll have you know." The five-foot eleven apprentice-witch combed the fingers of his left hand through his messy hair and fondled through a dusty drawer of potions with his right until, "Qwah Dep!" He exclaimed in Old Scorchish, "Here we go."

Larry Cung, the easily led middle son of Krzysztof Cung a local business man clenched his bony hands into fists. His wiry body was strapped onto a long wooden table as he awaited the cure. He stared up at the basement ceiling. Candles created eerie shadows around the room. The tension was building and he began breathing heavily.

"If half the town were witches, I'd like to think you'd be coming to me anyway Larry"

"Sure, of course." Larry began to realise that Bert was in complete control and quieted down.

"Brace yourself! This is gonna be a bumpy ride my friend!" Bert raised a vile of red cloudy liquid into the air with exuberance, lowering it to sneeze over his shoulder and turning back to watch his patient who grew anxious as the time for treatment came closer.

"Ok open wide Larry and think of happy thoughts. Think of your family, your future, your girlfriend-" "-she left me last year Bert!"

"Oh, well then don't think about her so."

The liquid spilled from the vile into the mouth of the patient as Bert chanted, "bwee chang ung...com zang nong...ba oi!…ba day."

The candles in the basement all flickered as a swirling gale picked up in the room, though all windows were sealed. Larry's eyes remained open, but had a glossed over look to them and his narrow body convulsed repeatedly as if being electrocuted. The dust of his old suit was sucked into the wind and his shoes clapped together with each convulsion.

Bert paced around the table three times, keeping his eye on the patient. He began to feel light-headed and fell across Larry's chest, the two bodies creating an ‘X’. The room fell silent. No wind, no chanting, no convulsing. Silence.

"Uhhh-heeeeh". Larry spluttered back to life.

"Bert are you okay?" The apprentice-witch lay slumped over his patient. "Bert? Say something old friend."

Helplessly trying to free himself, Larry began to question why he came down here.

Just before panic set in, "Oh, yeah. Grand. All that spell-casting really takes it out of you.” Larry hopped onto his feet. “At least it's Friday. I've only got Mrs Winkercheif in the morning and then I can relax 'til Monday."A smile came across Larry's face. Bert was back to himself.

"So, I'll leave you sleep in the spare bed and we'll do some measurements and tests in the morning."

"Bert-" "No need to thank me, I was born like this." The apprentice-witch turned towards the stairs.

"Bert!" He shouted. Larry looked back at the strapped-in patient. "Untie me."

"Oh right. Of course. You're wouldn't have been the first one to spend the night down here strapped in. Have I told you about the time I left Councillor Krinkle in here overnight? She came in because of some visions she had about giving those giraffe- necked gogglebiddies the vote.”

"You hadn't told me."

“Well you don't know, okay?”

Larry was set free from the table and with each step he felt the soaring effects of what took place. He followed the chatty Bert up to the ground floor where they toasted to a successful treatment over a few glasses of gecko wine. The basement sat in darkness waiting for a new patient to enter its confines. The howling winds that had rushed through the room had dispersed.

 But they would return.

Side Note ; This story was written by the returning Gerard Gilroy who was off travelling for a while. I hope to have more from him soon while he is back in Ireland