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.Movies	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 2234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, based on Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter List
- 5
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The next morning we had breakfast as usual. This time I assembled biscuits. Mary sat miserably on her side of the table. For once, I heard Spooky approaching. She moved like she was made of porcelain, sitting down carefully and wincing as if the sound of the vinyl hurt her.
"Okay," I said, sliding a biscuit to each and buttering my dozen. "I understand what's wrong with her. Why are you a sad sack?"
"Oh, Doctor Ebbeleta has isolated the shrinking…Formula…in my bloodstream."
"That's great," I said. I poured honey for a while, then offered a few drops to either of the girls. "So, you know how far off the suspected level is?"
"Two years," she said. "And if I spend every day like I did yesterday? Water, water, everywhere, coming and going? He figures I can shave a whole 23 minutes off the time."
"Oh."
"What if," Spooky moaned, her face still resting on her forearms, "we build you a treadmill under the shower. You run while drinking, building up a sweat, and pee while running, so you never have to stop." Mary stared at the side of Spooky's head. Then she looked up at me in mute appeal.
"We'd have to really waterproof the treadmill," I pointed out.
"Um… No. Thanks, Spooky, but no. Not… No, I'm going to live my life instead of concentrate on changing it." She waved in a general way to indicate the two giants she spent time with. "My life, such as it is, anyway."
"OH! That reminds me, you need to write a letter to your brother-in-law. He asked about you. Worries about you. Words to that effect."
"What," she joked, "you don't remember them exactly? YOUR memory isn't clear?"
"No," I admitted.
"Do you think it was alcohol related?" she asked in a teasing tone.
"Maybe," I agreed. "After all, Bill HAD had a couple of beers by that time."
"What does his drinking have to do with your memory?" she started to ask. Spooky started to snore. She did it weird, too. She'd breathe in with a rattle, breathe out with a rattle….then she'd offer her imitation of a kazoo. I really couldn't tell if she was breathing in or out for that stage, then another regular snore cycle, then back to the kazoo.
Mary and I looked at each other, shrugged, then I carried her quietly out of the room, down into the store to open it for the morning. We discussed the great bar experiment. She laughed to hear how we evaluated the bar for possibilities of defense and escape. "Mostly," she said, "I just ask if there's live music and what sort of bar food they offer."
"They have FOOD?" She jumped back on the counter in surprise. "I'm sorry, but… They have food in bars?   Why did no one ever tell me?!"
"You were hungry?" she asked.
"A little," I said.
"You had dinner before you left, and you don't eat as often as the Lilliputians do," she said.
"But when they eat, do they eat a significant percentage of their body weight? Or of a cow's?" The bell on the door jingled as it opened and Mary ran into the bank. We have a big plastic pig bank on the counter. From the outside it's a donation point for Sister Sarah's mission. Inside, there's a coin reservoir and a little apartment. Mary or any of the tiny people can observe the store from inside.
A woman walked in, dressed in colorful silks and lots of jewelry. "Hey! I'm new in the neighborhood, can I put a card in your window?" She started to lift a small poster to where I stood, then she paused. She was staring at the pig bank. Like it was about to strike.
I watched as she moved her head back and forth. "The eyes seem to follow you around the room, don't they?" I joked.
"No, it's the mouth that's watching me," she murmured. Great. She could see Mary seeing her.
I took the poster and stepped a bit to the side. "So, you're advertising your new business as a gypsy fortune teller." I looked down at her costume, at all the makeup and accessories. "I never knew you guys came out of the little glass boxes!"
She looked back at me and smiled. "I actually do have some fortune telling machines in the front room!"
"Machines?"
She laughed as if I had made a joke. "Anyway, I'm trying to drum up business, so I was hoping to put this where your customers…" She paused to look around the empty aisles. "Um."
"It's fine," I said. "Give me two. I own the bakery next door, too."
"Great!" She reached up to shake my hand. "I'm Winnie, no relation to the bear."
"Bear?" I asked, taking her hand. She froze once more, staring at our gripped fingers.
"Yeah, Pooh," she said distantly. "Have you, uh… You're a lot older than you look, aren't you?"
"Flattery will get you anything," I said. She forced a laugh and wandered off, shaking her head.
"Oooh," Mary said as she came out. "You have GOT to go to Winnie's!"
"What? Why?"
"She's the real deal!" She jumped up and down, pointing at the pig bank. "She sensed me, she sensed your age, you have to see what else she can do!"
"Mary, have you forgotten that you and I both have, or even ARE secrets? I'm not in the habit of looking for someone who might uncover my true identity."
"But it'll be COOL!" she insisted.
I picked her up, though keeping the register between her and the front window, and looked her in the eye. "Cool is not my priority. NOT BEING FOUND OUT is a bit higher than you having fun."
"Oh." She kicked her feet back and forth a bit. "But you need to know what she knows," she finally said.
"Why has your voice dropped an octave?" I asked.
"She may KNOW something. She touched you. She has psychic powers. Maybe she'll start to work up some sort of anxiety about the impressions she got!"
"Anxiety?"
"Well, she won't know, or think to guess you're a giant, right?"
"Probably."
"So she'll never actually uncover your secret. But she MAY invent completely different secrets."
"Which would be fine for me!" I insisted. "Bad secrets I can live with."
"Right up until she has the neighborhood burning you for witchcraft?"
"And what does one wear to a fortune telling?" I asked.
---------
One wears comfortable clothes. Mary suggested a shirt for me and selected an outfit for Spooky. Spooky had slept through the day and woke up in the evening, completely recovered and ready to go. I put HELLO, I’M WAYNE in charge of the store and we stepped out. Wayne is still a little resentful of how my countrymen intended to kidnap Mary, so he tries to take it out on me.
It was hard to notice at first. Lilliputians don't have a lot of what I'd consider personal space. My people do, but that's usually a matter of physics. We're very careful around each other because impacts are no laughing matter. The Lilliputians bounce off each other all the time, so they also bounce off of me as they go by.
But Wayne had noticed humans actually use body space as a language. Slamming a shoulder into someone to pretend you didn't notice them, sending a message that they are beneath your notice, that sort of thing. When he tried to do that to me, I just thought he was being a regular little Lilly (aheh) space invader. Turns out it was intentional. It just didn't work out all that well.
He slammed into me while I was stepping forward. His shoulder made contact and he popped up into the air and over the counter.   I strolled around the register and looked down.   "Sister Sarah's running late tonight. Give her every assistance."
"Yes, sir," he said.
I went out the front door and Spooky fell into step with me. "You know he was trying to hurt you?"
"With anything less than military grade weapons?" I asked. "No, he's just trying to get me to apologize for the scientists." She rolled her eyes, but shut up.
The front of Madame Wincezca's Fortunes was an arcade. Fortune telling machines were all along the walls. Some used the strength of the user's grip, some used resistance, there were buttons to push in a certain order and just random acts that spit out fates. Tables across the way were next to vending machines. It looked designed to be an informal hangout.
Spooky went straight to the random ones. Drop a quarter down a ramp to see which dog bowl it lands in, shoot a duck in a shooting gallery, she was collecting little fortune cards like gift receipts. Then she ran to a table and laid them all out.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm looking for the pattern," she said.
"It's random. Meaning…Random!"
"Right, right. It might also mean that the pattern is just too subtle for mortals to easily figure out." She started arranging them alphabetically.
"You're insane," I told her. I went to the strength machine, of course. Any Brobdingragian who has spent time among the humans can easily see that strength is deeply intertwined with fate. The little humans suffer theirs, we grab ours.
I took the grip in hand, slid a coin in and carefully squeezed, stopping at the next to highest light on the meter. I figured that there was no need to go all the way up, I wasn't there to show off.
"Yeah," Winnie said as she came into the room, "that top light's burned out. I'm trying to decide if I should replace it."
"Why wouldn't you?" I asked. It seemed like a no-brainer. Nonfunctional components make my brain itch.
"Oh," she laughed, "the tough guys keep coming in here, dropping their quarters and try, try, try to make the top light come on. They're usually good for five dollars. Ten if they lift weights regularly."
"Ah," I said. "I keep forgetting that most people are in business to make money." I looked at the top light, then just handed her a $5. "I don't lift," I explained.
"I knew I liked you," she said. "Whatever you are."
"What the hell do you mean by that?" Spooky asked. Screamed, really.
"He's not in business to make a profit," Winnie said, looking from me to the woman who was carefully dressed to appear homeless. "So… I just meant, I don't know what he's REALLY doing. At his store. If he's not a businessman, I'm thinking… Um… A sociology project?" I moved a little closer to her. This sounded interesting.
Spooky passed me and moved very close, even for a Lilliputian. "What's sort of sociology project?" she asked.
"It, uh, it would be an experiment, I guess, I dunno.   Maybe a survey?" Winnie stepped away, but we kept pace. "You, uh, you're trying to research some aspect of society, so you observe people. A small business as cover? Maybe?"
"And what would our goals be?" Spooky asked. She was right in Winnie's face. I tugged her belt, trying to keep the human from feeling threatened by Spooky's proximity.
"You, well, you wouldn't tell anyone. That'd ruin the experiment, wouldn't it? I mean, if people knew you were counting red t-shirts, some people would choose not to wear red shirts and some would choose to wear red, just because you were counting them, but not for the reasons you were trying to establish."
"And would it account for a number of other people on the premises?" I asked. "Employees that change regularly?"
"Those would be your grad students, working as interns?" She was in a corner of two machines. I had stopped her from staring at Spooky, but now her eyes flashed from one of us to the other. I grabbed Spooky's elbow and moved both of us back a full pace.
"Interesting," I said. "We could use this."
"As long as she doesn't tell everyone where we got the idea," Spooky shrugged.
"I won't!" she practically shrieked. "I'll never tell."
"That's fine," I said. I moved us back another step. "That'll be helpful."
"But if we use her cover story," Spooky said, "she'll wonder what the real story is."
"We're government," I said, my tone pitched to imply that I was sharing confidential information. "But we've never been particularly happy with the cover story others constructed."
"What was that?" Winnie asked.
"That I was bored," I said, "and bought a business to not be bored."
"And that I was homeless," Spooky added.
"Oh. That…. That does sound like a government approach," Winnie said. She was looking at me funny. Same way Barasano did, trying to tell if I was lying. Lucky for us all, I wasn't. I just never said WHICH government.
She relaxed, a little bit, smoothing down her dress with her hands. Spooky went back to her pattern search. Winnie turned to me. 'So, uh, you want your fortune read?"
I pointed at the light I'd managed to bring to life. "I already know. I am lucky as a god, and a happy ending shall surely be mine."
"Yes, well, that's a one-quarter fortune," she smiled. She also waved the bill I'd given her. "Want to see what your five-dollar fortune is?"
"Yes, he does!" Spooky said. She sidled next to me and whispered, "Maybe there's a secret to the pattern we can use!"
"You're not as quiet as you think you are," I told her.
"No, you're not," Winnie smiled. She asked me, "Have you ever had your fortune told with Tarot before?"
"Not to my knowledge," I told her.
"Well, the first time can be significant. So your friend will have to stay out here. You can discuss it later, but it's traditional to be alone for the first time."
"Don't worry," Spooky whispered, "There's plenty of circulation."
"Still not all that quiet," Winnie said as I followed her into a back room. We sat at a table and she dimmed the lights. I tried to ignore sounds coming from the air vents. "Alright," she said, sorting through a deck of cards. "Do you know what the Tarot deck is, in general?"
"There's a Death card, which means a minion dies in the hero's place, there's a card for Lovers, which means the hero and a foxy lady, usually on the other side, and there's a card that means a tall dark and handsome stranger is waiting for what turns out to be an important plot point." Winnie blinked. "Um, basically," I tried. "Cards mean something and the way they are dealt means something, and you'll tell me what they mean."
"Yes," she said, smiling and happy to be on safe ground. "Okay, first we need a card to represent you." She nodded towards the front. "Let's go with Strength, shall we?"
"Ah. Because I don't lift weights but got near the top. Works for me." She put down a card. It showed a woman stroking a lion's mane and holding his jaw. "Am I the woman?"
"No, you're the strength that she uses to control the lion."
"Ah." She shuffled the deck and let me cut it. Then she dealt out a card.
"The Hermit covers you," she read. "This is your environment, and this card indicates silence, prudence, receiving instructions from above and seeking truths." There was a giggle in the vents.
"Right so far," I said quickly. The next card 'crossed' me, an obstacle. It was the Lovers. Spooky gasped.
"Lovers doesn't mean sex," Winnie said with a smile. "It could be harmony. Say that your professional life and your private life work together.   As an obstacle, it could mean a failed marriage." And damn but she was usually a lot quieter up there in the dark. "Um, betrayal, temptation, your mind isn't on your job."
"My mind is entirely on my job," I said.
"Then maybe it's a temptation. Maybe one you're ignoring, but could be a growing problem?"
"No," I said.
"Okay." She nodded and put another card down. "What's beneath you, an unconscious influence, your id as it were, is the Fool." Not a SOUND from the vents. "The Fool just means that you're aware that you have things to learn."
"So, open to knowing new things? That's my job description."
"And then you're probably good at it!" Winnie said. "A passing influence is the 8 of Cups." A man walked away from a stack of golden goblets. "This is turning your back on success."
"And that describes my business," I said with a smile. "But that's passing?"
"Yeah, you may be interested in profits, now." She tapped the Lovers. "Of course, the 8 of Cups can mean turning your back on a love…"
"No," I said with finality.
"Okay. The Two of Cups crowns you, it's an influence that's strong in your mind."
"What's the Two of Cups indicate?"
"Don't get mad? But it's kind of a weaker version of The Lovers." She gave a half-giggle.
"Alright, fine, I'm obsessed with a love interest, it's my Kryptonite and I'm through turning my back on Love." I sighed. "Or the three cards refer to three different relationships, one fading, one a problem, one occupying much of my mind, right?"
"Could be," she agreed. One more card was turned over. "The Knight of Swords," she said. "It is a coming influence, your near future."
"It's upside down," I pointed out.
"Yeah," she said slowly.
"And the Knight is a tall, dark, handsome stranger?"
"He's… Upside down, he's a jackass, really," Winnie said. Her brow was furrowed. "Dangerous. Quick to fight, a big bully. Gets his way all the time."
"Got it," I said in a small voice. "I know who you mean."
"You do?" My expression was miserable. She let it go. "Okay, then. Your fears are: The Seven of Wands."   A man stood on a little hill, using a staff to fight off six other staffs. Presumably someone was holding the staffs.
"He's a little outnumbered," I said. "I'm afraid to get outnumbered?"
"You're afraid to face your enemies from a superior position," she said. "You're afraid of success in this fight."
"Yes," I said, looking at the Knight of Swords. "That makes sense."
"Ooooookay," she said. "Then the way your family sees you is- Holyfuckingshit!" She had turned over the Strength card. People saw me as the card she'd chosen to represent me.
"How many of those cards are in the deck?" I asked.
"One," she said, her voice breathy.
She started to reach for the center of the spread, the card hidden under the Hermit. I reached out and pinned the stack in place with a finger. "Let's leave it where it lies, alright? There's…. Well, there's more than a little magic in my background. We learn not to poke it with a stick."
"Okay," she said slowly. She went back to the deck and drew another card. Before she put it down, she looked at the new Strength. "You, uh, your family, friends, whatever, the community you're part of, they see you, your personality, as a force of nature. If you say so, that's what goes."
"Okay," I shrugged.
"Your hopes, with respect to the coming Knight, are the Two of Wands." A man held a staff and a globe, and another staff leaned on a wall. "It's bravery in the face of a new beginning. Being open to new ideas. Everything turns out well."
"Got it," I said miserably.
"And finally, the final outcome." She turned over the Nine of Swords. A woman sits in her bed in the night. Nine swords hover over her bed. She looks like she's had a nightmare. "Nightmares," Winnie said miserably. "Horrific loss, horrible fates, bad things. The nightmares come true." We sat silent for a moment or two. "Sorry," she said.
I stared at the spread for a moment. She stared at the second Strength card. I could see she was itching to uncover the first one. But what magic we have on the island seldom tolerates close scrutiny. Winnie moaned in dismay as I swept up the hand and shuffled it all back into the stack. "Trust me," I said as I put the deck down. "You don't want to see what was under there."
"Okay," she said with a slow nod. We stood and went back out into the front of the store. A number of people were examining the arcade games. That meant that Spooky couldn't pop back up without drawing a lot of attention.
"I've never, um, seen anyone worried about success," Winnie said, trying to think of anything except Strength.
"Imagine that you're seeking employment because your father has been condemned to execution," I said.
"Yes?"
"And you just got word you'd have good fortune applying for the job of executioner…"
"Oh. So, the fortune…meant something to you?"
"Yes." I nodded towards the front room. . "See to your customers, I'll think on this a while."
"Are you quite sure?" she asked.
"Yes." She pat me gently on a shoulder and moved to welcome the newcomers. I leaned against the wall, trying not to look like I was looking for the air vents.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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