Elf Sternberg

[CW: Interpersonal violence and suggested sexual violence.]

Spoilsport looks down from the rafters, looks at the wreckage of my pain and despair and says, “This is great. So how do we monetize it? Exploit this?”

I said, “Oh, grief, not you. Girl Scout! Help!”

Girl Scout ran in and grabbed Spoilsport, pulling him down to the floor. He hits face first with a satisfying thud. “Come here you son of a bitch. You wank. You know what Spoilsport? Tonight you have the right to remain crunchy.” Girl Scout picks up his head and slams it into the floor again. He grunts.

“You can’t do this. You can’t!”

“Tonight I can. While this is going on, I can, Spoilsport. You’re not welcome. We have enough problems without you. What do you want to do with him?”

I said, “Oh, I don’t know. Hey, Ryla? Think Gnash would like to have a good go at him?”

Ryla grins. “I think that’s a very good idea.” There’s some sounds in the back of the Stable. Gnash comes out. Big, intimidating. Big, he steps forward and picks up Spoilsport and says, “Come on lad, let’s you and me have some fun.” He drags Spoilsport up the stairs. The crude stairs on the right side of the building. Fantasy, not sci-fi. After a while there are shrieks.

Jay looks up at me, her eyes wide, shocked. “He could kill him.”

“No. No Jay. You know the rules about alters as much as I do. Alters die from three things. Alters die from neglect because the shiny comes along. That’s Riley’s curse. Alters die from duty that distracts you from having your imaginary friends. That’s Christopher Robin’s curse. And alters die when we die. It’s just the way it is. I could encode as much of you as I can on paper and maybe try to fit you into the minds of others. I love all of you. And I love you, Ken, P’nyssa, Aaden, Wish, everyone.” And I lay there on my side in the hospital bed. Weak. Weeping. And they came and they laid their hands on me. On my sides, my shoulders, my arms, my hip, my legs. Such different touches. Ken’s strong hands, Wish’s tiny hands, Aaden’s big paws, ond P’nyssa’s nimble pads. And they stroke me gently. And they reminded me that they love me. And as they walked past me, they told me I’m a future.

I said, “You deserve more from me.”

Ken said, “You’ve done everything you could. Life happened. You gave us so many opportunities. We have no complaints. Except maybe you should finish a few more.”

“I’ll try. I really will. But I have to get past this first.”

P’nyssa said, “Yeah. Yeah, you kind of do. I don’t have anything to give you. Not really.” Although she did put her tentacles on my belly. I saw Nance standing behind her. I love them like that. I’m so grateful he’s in her life. When they pushed, they pushed warmth into me. I felt them looking for the damage. And P’nyssa said “It’s a mass. I can only speed up the metabolism a little bit to clear it out. I’ll do what I can.”

Ken said, “Do what you can, beloved. Elf needs you. And Elf? The council needs you. The stable needs you. Life. Life needs us. Even a little bit. Life needs us. Us.”

Slowly, all of them began to fade away as the Ativan took over. Funny how they’re like God like that. They’re able to be held in abeyance by a molecule. They accept you.

And Girl Scout is still just standing there. Arms crossed. Resting. I won’t say it. Don’t use that language around little girls, right? She grins. “Come sit with me, Girl Scout. Just keep me company. Keep me from being stupid. Let me sleep.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

I said, “I know you will. Good night to the council. Good night to the stable. Good night to my world. I still love you. And you deserve to live longer than Hogwarts. You do.”

Next day:

I said, "Hey guys, I have an idea. I don’t know if it’s stupid or something, but do we need an alter for Chef? Not you, Critic. You’re a good man, but it’s not your job.

Critic acknowledged, “Of course.”

I said, “Do we need a role for Chef? And if we ever get everything back, can we build a ritual master?”

“A ritual master?” Muse said.

“You like the idea?”

“Yeah, actually I kind of do. You’ve been making it up on your own. I mean, you’re good at it, but having a ritual master might make a lot of sense. You could extend it away from the ritual of coffee… to rituals of place. For writing code and so forth and so on. And maybe we could rebuild…” She looks dreamy for a moment. “We could rebuild the ritual of sodomy. I hear members of the stable are wooing over that.”

I said, “Yeah. Definitely going to build a Chef. Definitely going to try to build a ritual master. Sounds good.”