The 'Magic' Potion |
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The marble moon shone upon the waves, its silvery light turning the sea into a glistening carpet. Across the vast ocean, a boat could be seen. As it approached, I began to see its passengers more clearly. Two men, dressed in queer brown cloaks, sat in the boat. They shouted out for help, and I could clearly see what was wrong. They had no food or water, and their boat was leaking. Naturally, we helped them up. Any sailor's greatest fear is being stranded like they were. We had plenty of space to spare, and gave them food, water, and a place to sleep. All the time, they kept repeating their thanks. One of them, whose name was Arnold Fredrickson, was very tall. He actually had to stoop to enter doorways. His face was gaunt, and he looked like he had not shaved in a long time. He rarely spoke, and when he did his deep voice was barely audible. The other, John Smith, was only slightly shorter. He wore thick glasses, which made his eyes look very big. In contrast to his friend, he spoke almost constantly. Hearing his excited voice seemed to make him feel better, more comfortable. Possibly the strangest thing about these two men was their cloaks. They seemed to be concealing something, and I was constantly nagged by the feeling that this thing they hid was dangerous. I never saw them take their cloaks off, not even when sleeping. They said they had been fishing, but were hit by a storm and capsized. All of their possessions had sunk, and for two days they drifted aimlessly, hoping to reach safe land. The first thing I noticed about their alibi was that two days ago there were no storms in sight. The sky had been almost totally clear, and we were all suffering due to the heat. Nobody else seemed to realize this, so I decided to stay quiet. * * * The next day we all breakfasted at the long table in the dining hall. Nobody sat at the head of the table; the captain did not want to feel isolated from everyone else. As I sat at the table, happily munching away on my toast, I sneezed. There was something irritating my nose, an invisible dust that smelled very much like ash. I felt very strange, and was very irritated with Jean, the person seated opposite me. Why did she have to breathe like that? And she was talking! That sound is so irritating! She saw me staring at her, and smiled. She knows! She knows I do not like it and does it to torture me! I could not stand it anymore. I screamed, "Why do you do this to me, Jean? You know I loath it almost as much as I despise you! Just stop it!" At the same time some other men uttered similar insults and complaints. After that, I felt okay. I could not think of any reason for the sudden outburst, and saw confused looks on many other faces, but John and Arnold were laughing. It was sort of funny, and I started laughing too. So did everyone else, and all was forgotten. * * * At dinner, however, it was different. I took a sip of my ale, and felt a sudden warmth come over me. My eyes snapped up, and their gaze fell upon the suddenly stunning and beautiful face of Kate, the captain's wife. I marveled at it for a second, before realizing what I was thinking. But she's the captain's wife! , one side of my mind said. That does not matter, because the captain is too busy paying attention to the lady next to me, the other, darker side observed. Helen is sitting next to me. Didn't I marry her once? I wonder why. Then the dark side said, quite loudly this time, That doesn't matter, because Kate is so beautiful. As I tried to argue, I found the dark side taking over my body. I spun off my chair and leaped onto the table. As I wondered how that had happened, the dark side repeated itself. That doesn't matter, because Kate is so beautiful. I started to speak. "Oh, you are so beautiful, Kate! One day I will marry you and live happily ever after!" This time, I was the only one to speak. Everyone else sat there staring at me. They were thinking about how close they had been to saying very similar things, at least the men were. The women gasped, shocked at what I had said. The silence was broken by a suppressed giggle, and then a laugh. John and Arnold were unable to stop themselves, and were immediately noticed. "Hey," one man shouted, "what are you doing to us?" John and Arnold fled onto the deck, but we followed. "Okay," John said. "I admit it. Arnold and I aren't fishermen, we are a couple of scientists trying to have some fun with a new discovery." He held his cloak open and we saw several vials of a silvery liquid, which could be easily emptied into a cask of ale, and some sachets of a black powder, which could be dusted into the air and inhaled by unsuspecting victims. "They modify your feelings. Strangely enough, they don't affect females. I guess they just have better control over their emotions." "That's got to be illegal! What's in the stuff, anyway?" "I could tell you it's chemical X mixed with powder Y and boiled for Z minutes, but you wouldn't know I am telling the truth. So let's just call it magic." He reached into his boots and produced a long container. "And now we really have to go. I must say I am very impressed with you people. You were the only ones who found us out within a day of 'rescuing' us." He smashed the bottle on the floor, and a foul-smelling cloud erupted in front of us. We heard two splashes, and they were gone. As the cloud cleared, I began to laugh. * * * I laughed because I had managed to steal some of their precious potions from them. I asked a friend to use some of his high-tech gadgetry to analyze them, and I now know how to make them. I was unable to catch the two vagabonds, but now I can share in their crime. If you want to know how to make the stuff, then this is my reply: I could give you a list of ingredients and complicated instructions, but you wouldn't know I am telling the truth. So let's just call it magic. |