From Jester To King CVII

They started holding ceremonies at my mum’s house and the whole outfit came along just like in Peru with the paraphernalia, the big oil drums full of medicine, and the medicine was strong and you could see they meant business. Initially I didn’t think much of it; it hadn’t crossed my mind to take part and I only wondered what they thought of the house with its marble floors and oak landings, its awe-inspiring majesty, and I wanted them to know this was my house, although it wasn’t exactly mine, it was the one I had the strongest connection to, and I felt that my part should be recognised, this pride honoured, but they were all too busy with their things to take any notice.

They set the stuff down in the dining area above the lounge, and this dining area had been cleared of all tables and chairs, all light fittings; there was nothing in it bar the drums and the sheets plus the music equipment, and it seemed empty and bald or like the decorators had been in. And Karolina was there, and though she wasn’t paying me much attention at all, in fact I’m not sure if she knew I was me, I really really wanted her to know they were in my house, and I thought she would think this was a massive coincidence, and we’d have a chat about it, and then from that or underlying it was this notion that if they were in my house then I had this influence, this power, it meant I was more important than just any old participant, and although I wanted her to know all this, I still felt this ballooning sense of importance, and I went around as if I had the measure of things and that nothing could take me out my control. But then if I had this power, and I did, then our whole interaction would transform, and the love we hadn’t gotten into yet would bloom, and a very deluded part of me told me that she was here precisely for that love, that she had been delivered to me and that I should not let such an opportunity go to waste.

My mother was hanging back in the kitchen. I hadn’t asked her why she’d arranged it but it seemed natural to me, because she always held events in the house and this was just another one and she liked to hang back in the kitchen whilst things took their course, not remotely daring or suggesting that she had anything to offer the event itself, but still present enough that she could rightfully claim to be host. And the medicine men were going in and out of the kitchen, getting drinks of water, opening and closing the door, and I could sense if not hear my mother interacting happily, getting the people what they wanted and generally making herself useful and helpful to all who were there.

And then it came to the ceremony itself, and they decided to hold it up on the landing. It suddenly dawned on me that this would be an ideal time to drink, it was hardly even a thought, it was more a very spontaneous and natural inclination without all the fear that usually came with it, all the associations and logistical issues, and then the thought crystallised into something rational and it was of the ilk that it would be so easy to do in my own house, so comfortable, and I wouldn’t have to beg or pay or do any of those troublesome things that they usually insisted you did before you drank, I could just swing in as and when I pleased, but when it came to it, I missed the cut-off, I was dithering because the thought was occupying my mind, and by then they’d already hauled all the drums upstairs, set out the mats, and the ceremony had started.

And it wasn’t as if I didn’t know the participants. They’d got in Alvin Primus and another guy from school and you could see they were convinced they didn’t have anything to work on, they were resistant, but at the same time, you could see their bodies riven with fear, and they both stood on their mats, not moving, like they were waiting to be teleported, and when they administered the medicine Primus started moaning and quivering, the same Primus who’d always been so high and mighty about his emotional development, his self-mastery, and although a part of me was really relishing his squirming, another part of me could see that I could help him out, that I knew exactly who and where he was. And so I moved closer into the circle, and he was blathering on about some trivial event that had occurred way back, some minor resentment, and the way it was coming out was so theatrical, but so awkward, his body was in spasm, but you could see that this was such a minor thing and the medicine hadn’t even started working a tenth of its potential, and it was almost as if Primus was willingly blocking it so he could stay in this sphere of petty resentments and not have to deal with himself.

I couldn’t help compare myself to Primus, and I realised then that I had moved on more than I had thought. If Primus was having kittens over a dribble medicine, if I could clearly see what was happening to him and lend my hand however I could, I had been underestimating myself, and try as I might, my presence wasn’t really making any difference so I just hung back and watched and let it takes its course, let Primus react in his own way without interfering. And he was still quivering as if someone had just administered 500 volts when I left the room, me still buoyant and relishing this sense of comfort and ease, knowing that things ultimately had to be run past me, and why on earth shouldn’t I have this feeling of not exactly power, but control, because someone had to have it didn’t they, and so why shouldn’t it be me?