Naplian's Potion

Naplian's Potion Part 2: Black Cat

I taught mathematics at the local high school, and since my university days to the present time, my life was totally focused on logic and reason. The description of the potion and its alleged magical qualities defied all logic and was irrational.

Due to a government cut back, my teaching hours were reduced so I attended the school only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I lived alone having been divorced for some years now. However, my ex-wife dropped our kids to my house most weekends.

After I read that book, I was feeling tired and decided to nap for an hour. It was now two in the afternoon, and the bangers and mash lunch made me even more exhausted.

I fell into a deep sleep as I lay on the couch. Was I dreaming or was this real as I saw a large metal caldron boiling with a frothy fluid sliding down the sides? A pigeon flew from it, but it wasn't an ordinary pigeon. It had massive claws and hollow black eyes. The claws were tearing into my flesh. I screamed. At that moment, I came to my senses realizing that it was only a nightmare. I felt relieved, but something was gnawing at me, and words echoed in my mind:

"Make the potion. It'll change you. Great wonders will enrich your life. Do it."

Was I going mad? I heard voices. I didn't suffer from mental illness. Was it the damn book and this crazy author Naplian that caused all of this to happen? There were a lot of questions and no answers to the dilemma I was in.

The school called me on my cell, but I wouldn't answer the phone. It was like I was an automaton in a trance where all I could think of was to make that potion. Everything else meant nothing. I left the house at three and visited Fred, my neighbor across the street. He was about the same age as me, being in his 50s, but he was stout with a large beer belly and balding. He answered the door and wore a broad smile. I knew Fred kept pigeons. I asked, "Fred, can I buy one of your pigeons?"

"What, are you getting into pigeon racing, Alan? You'll need more than one for that, old man."

"No, I just want to keep one as a pet."

I had a twisted smile, knowing that soon after I got it home I would slit the bird's neck!

I was surprised when Fred rushed out of the living room and came back holding a pigeon with black-blue markings on its wings. "Here she is, Alan. She's an old bird and not much use to me for racing. She had some good innings, but I just keep her in the cage now as she's not fast enough. Treat this as a gift. Here is a cage and feeding instructions as well."

We then chatted about some mundane nonsense. l almost ran home, and as soon as I stepped through the front doors, I put the cage on one of the side tables. It was perched on a piece of bamboo in there. The bird looked content, but she didn't know her days were numbered!

I had caught a spider in the bathroom before I left to see Fred. I placed it in a partially open glass jar, and he was still crawling in there.

The hardest part was going to be the cat's eye. Where was I going to get that? I knew a black cat visited my small back garden, but the visits weren't regular. One day it would be there exploring the wild shrubs and weeds that adorned my neglected little patch of land. Then it would disappear and not venture in my yard for weeks at a time. I got a saucer of milk and placed it at the edge of one of the shrubs. I waited, but there was no sign of the mysterious feline visitor. My mind was blank, and all I could think of was to get the funny ingredients for that potion. An hour later the cat appeared. I could see its dark form bent over the saucer. I grabbed a long fishing net from the garage. I slowly opened the porch doors trying to make no sound. It was still there licking the milk. I was five feet from the animal. It didn't notice me. With a quick downward swoop of the net, I caught its head. I stepped closer and grabbed the cat. It scratched my hands, writhing violently. I held onto it and placed it in a cage I had for the pet rabbit that died several months ago. I was delighted. Would I have the nerves to kill that cat and tear out one of its eyes? Would I need to kill it? It could still survive with one eye, couldn't it?

k>Yok