Chapter 8 #2
They all lift their flasks in the air and drink a big gulp of whatever’s inside.
Your mycelium majesty rules all the land
While we are but your humble servants
Ready and willing to lend a hand!
“I think I know what they’ve been foraging,” I whisper to Skylar.
Your flawless fungi fill the earth
Bringing nourishment and revelations
Of marvelous worth!
We protect you and your dark, damp home
So you may flourish in peace
Wherever your spores may roam!
Skylar chokes. “They’ve been tripping balls on hallucinogenic mushrooms?”
“I’m afraid so,” I say with a sigh.
Once the chanting ends, several of them pick up instruments and the music starts up again. A bunch of the gnomes begin dancing around the fire as they sing to their supposed mushroom god.
“For fuck’s sake, they’re… twerking. I did not need to see naked gnomes twerking.” Skylar shudders. “Ever.”
I snort-laugh. “It’s like that scene in The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Bette White out in the woods,” I marvel. “Only so much weirder.”
“But no less entertaining,” Skylar adds.
Evidently, our conversation was not as covert as we thought because Glowstick Necklace Gnome dances his way over to us. “Did I hear you mention The Proposal?”
“Uh… yes?” I say.
His eyes start to sparkle with glee. “How perfect! We love that movie!” He cups his hands around his mouth and yells to the group, “A new challenge is before us, my friends. We must perform our homage to Lil Jon’s ‘Get Low.’”
An enthusiastic roar of agreement goes up.
“Bring forth the Songmaster!” several of them call out in unison.
“Songmaster?” Skylar asks.
I shake my head. “I can only assume it’s the same musical genius who wrote ‘The Great Sporefather’ number we heard.”
A rather elderly-looking gnome hobbles forward with the help of a tiny cane, his beard trailing in the sand. After consulting with several of his cohort, he bops around in a geriatric fashion until he seems to get his rhythm, then starts to chant while waving his arms and cane in the air.
To the forest, to the lake
’Til more nudists we shall make
’Til all the stitches break!
“Down with clothing! It’s a prison for the body!” a voice cries out.
“Yeah!” they all shout as one.
More enthusiastic twerking resumes as the participants sing along with growing gusto.
“Is this really happening or did I somehow fall into an alternate reality?” Skylar asks.
“No, it’s all very real…” I whisper, unable to look away.
The Songmaster pays the world around him no mind and starts bouncing along to bongos as he adds new words to Lil’ Jon’s song.
To the planets, to the Sol
’Til we all be trippin’ balls
’Til all the clothing falls!
All the gnomes start singing along while more join in the haphazard dancing around the bonfire.
That’s when Skylar bursts into loud laughter, clutching his stomach and wheezing. “Oh, fuck… I can’t… even…” he gasps, then dissolves into full-on giggles.
He’s laughing so hard that tears stream down his cheeks—and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve struggled to get more than a quick chuckle out of him. But seeing him overcome with mirth, I feel like I’m getting a sneak peek into a side of Skylar he rarely shows, and I’m so happy to be witnessing it.
One of my new objectives in life is making Skylar laugh more.
My thoughts are interrupted when I sense someone coming our way. I look over my shoulder to see Baxter jog down the steps from the trail and stride in our direction.
We get to our feet to greet him, Skylar wiping at his eyes and rubbing his stomach.
“Pretty sure we’ve solved this case for you,” I offer.
Baxter studies the gnomes and heaves a tired sigh. “What the hell have they gotten into?”
“Best we can tell, they’ve been foraging some kind of hallucinogenic mushrooms in the forest and appear to have made some type of alcohol from them,” I explain.
Skylar turns to me with a puzzled look. “Can you make alcohol from mushrooms?”
“Not on their own, but with a sugar source for fermentation, you can make wine or beer from them, I would think.”
Baxter rounds up one of the loopy gnomes still holding a flask. “What have you got in there?”
The gnome blinks at him a few times and grins. “Why, the finest mushroom-infused mead you’ve ever tasted.” She takes a swallow as if to prove her point and then burps.
Baxter uses his radio to call for backup. In short order, several other police officers arrive and begin rounding up the gnomes, taking away their flasks and securing them in a transport van.
“We’re gonna take them back to a room at the station. Let them sleep it off and then have a conversation when they’re sober in the morning,” Baxter explains.
Fortunately, the gnomes are too high to be all that bothered and treat the whole escapade as an adventure.
“Were you able to prevent their war with the lawnmowers earlier?” I ask.
Baxter’s large nostrils flare, and he huffs out a breath. “Fortunately, they stopped for food at the diner first. They ended up stuffing themselves and then toddled off to their camp for a nap.”
“Glad to hear there was no damage to public or private property,” I say.
Baxter’s mouth sets in a firm line. “Now that we know the root cause of their recent erratic behavior, we can put an end to their hijinks.”
“Godspeed, my friend,” I tell him with a salute.
Baxter’s really had his work cut out for him lately.
Skylar and I help secure the gnomes’ tents and put out the bonfire so things are safe for their return later. Baxter thanks us before taking off with his officers and the gnomes in tow.
All too fast, it’s just me and the man I’m head over heels for alone on the beach.
We stare at one another for a long, silent moment.
I open my mouth to say something, I’m not sure what, when a loud splash in the water startles us. We turn in time to see Marius, one of Mystic Hollow’s merpeople, break the surface of the water, his tail slapping the water behind him.
“Please tell me you’re going to give me a better show than those gnomes. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good display of nudity when I see one.” He shudders. “Emphasis on good. Theirs was not. Too many beards for my taste.”
Skylar gapes at Marius. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s maybe never seen a merperson before or because Marius is incredibly beautiful.
As Ryder likes to say, it makes up for his intrusive tendencies and slightly off-putting personality.
He’s Mystic Hollow’s most notorious voyeur and enjoys spying on people within viewing distance of his natural water habitat.
Since he moved in, a committee has been appointed to make sure warning signage is always posted for visitors to the lake.
Marius tosses his long hair over his shoulder and leers at us. “Don’t mind me. I’m happy to watch while you two get your freak on.” He winks at us. “Or I would be more than happy to join you.”
Skylar and I turn to one another at the same time and, with what I suspect are matching looks of horror on our faces, hightail it out of there.
“Party poopers!” Marius yells after us.