Alexander the Mate - Chapter 11
In the denouement of our collaborative Tag Team Tale, will the Gods smile on our troubled teens? Whose time is up... and who is going to get *really* lucky?
Got the hang of what what we are up to? If not, please see our attempt to explain it all at the end, and a link back to Chapter 10.
Chapter 11, brought to you by Stephanie Bretherton
‘The strangest thing, Xandy love. I was just in the chemist when some dashing bloke in a very expensive suit, standing right behind me and holding a black cat of all things, overheard me asking Mr Singh for the latest and best advice on treating Covid. As I left with the cough syrup and the antihistamines and the aspirin, he pulled me to one side and handed me this…’
Mrs Magnus waves a purple packet at her son, edged in gold trim. ‘He said that we should take this to chase away our nasty illness, and that we wouldn’t regret it!’
Xandy pushes his mum’s hand away as she tries to feel his brow.
‘Sikander’s Very Special Herbs,’ the package announces in curlicued writing, and then underneath that, in brackets and plainer text, ‘The Anti-Viral Miracle Cure.’
‘Of course it seems crazy, and I would never normally, but… well, there was just something so charming and persuasive about the man. I almost felt like I knew him, like we’d met a very long time ago. Anyway, I’d started feeling a bit rough myself – that’s why I had my mask on in the pharmacy, wouldn’t want to pass anything on – so I decided to swallow a couple of these on my way home… and now, honestly… I feel right as rain! Never better, in fact.’
‘Give me that!’ demands Xandy, swallowing five as soon as he can get them out of the packet. ‘These better bloody work. Gotta meet Roxy at the slots tonight for a hot date with a llama, I mean Llandy. I mean Andy. And then I have to see a hamburger about a job.’
‘Are you aright love?’ she tries to feel his brow again, ‘you seem a bit delirious? Anyway, you won’t be going anywhere until that fever comes down and we can do another test! Otherwise it will be a very hot date indeed.’
*
Xandy is walking on air towards the arcade. No, really. He’s pretty sure he is actually hovering. His Nike swooshes seem to have grown wings.
Then the sound of a text. Then another, and another.
Oh, no, please don’t be cancelling!
It’s Trevor:
‘Sorry Son, I know you’re feeling better and on your way there after all, but the job’s off. Just had some horrible news, Brian got run down by an Uber! One he’d called for himself apparently. Bloody hell! Must have had a skinful and decided to abandon the Merc. Anyway, he’s a goner. Toast. Hard to believe!’
After that:
‘There’s definitely something weird going on though cos I nearly had my lights put out by an Uber the other night. Except it can’t have been the same one. Word is, the one that did for Bic Mac was a yellow Attica with a flying bloody horse painted on the side. I mean, you don’t see many Greek cars on the road here as it is, never mind yellow with horses, never mind working as Ubers! It sped off without stopping I heard, so the coppers are out in force.’
And then:
‘Anyway, no need to turn up at the slots after all, son, sorry. But look I’ve been a bit lucky with a windfall myself so I can always help you out if you’re skint? And sounds shitty I know but there might be an opening for me now managing the arcade. Brian’s widow won’t want to get her hands dirty with all of that. And his boys are busy running his “operations” further afield.’
Xandy laughs, though he knows he shouldn’t, and doesn’t really know why he has. But he’s halfway there now, feeling completely fine after an excellent nap, with three negative Covid tests in his pocket to prove he isn’t going mad (and isn’t a completely selfish little shit.) Besides, Andy had replied to his very cool question of ‘tomorrow night?’ with:
‘Yeah, if that’s OK with you? Roxy said you’d be at the slots. Could do with getting lucky…’
There’s no way he isn’t going. They wouldn’t shut down that money-printing palace even for the death of actual royalty, never mind old Mcready, short-arsed Kingpin or not. Xandy quickens his pace. Or is that his invisible hover board? Or his magic trainers? (Whatever it is that seems to be floating him to the arcade.)
The night is all his now. And he can burn through the coins in his pocket cos Trevor will sort him out for more. And he will forgive the man and accept it, because why not?
Roxy is sucking on a swirly lollipop and already spinning her favourite machine when he gets there. But wait… there’s that bloody cat again… running up to and rubbing up against the mighty legs of Andy Adlington. Who is smiling in his direction. And now walking over and handing him a can of coke. Which Xandy takes and downs, then crushes in his hand.
‘Wanna play?’ asks Xandy, returning that smile.
‘I do,’ says Andy, ‘Yes, I really do.’
The place is rammed but a space at the machine in front them opens up like the red sea. Except it’s not quite the Ocean’s Eleven vibe he’d been hoping for. It’s one of those ‘grab a soft toy with some stupid claw’ thing.
Xandy keeps his cool and goes for it anyway. Starts finding the right coins and pushing them in lovingly. Maybe he’ll pull out the pink elephant he can see at the top and present it to Roxy. That’ll make him look good in front of Andy? Time for a new obsession for that girl anyway, and pachyderms seem perfect.
He looks over to Roxy with a strange softness in his heart. It was good of her to set all this up. He won’t forget it. And now a random thought comes into his head as he gazes fondly in her direction: She will make a really good mother one day. Even if it’s hard to imagine her ever actually marrying anyone.
But now Roxy’s being approached by some very tall woman with huge eyes and curly hair all decorated with peacock feathers – and way too much class for this dive. She is smiling at Roxy and handing her a card. Now this creature is suddenly over by them, handing a similar card to Andy.
‘Hi’ she says, staring into those beautiful blues, and Xandy feels the prick of jealousy. Who IS this random cow? And why is everything so fucking ‘random’ right now, anyway?
‘Don’t worry, I’m not a perv, my darling, just a recruiter for the Argo Extras Agency. We’re shooting a commercial at the big air show tomorrow, seeking good-looking young people who can carry themselves well. Call if you’re interested. The money is good and we’re paying cash. Oh, and you can bring your skinny friend along too, if you like. He’s just about “pale and interesting” enough to pass muster. And that certainly is a magnificent nose. In fact, he reminds me of someone… someone special,’ she winks at Xandy, ‘well, must fly, I’ve done very well here tonight. I may have spotted some real talent in that young lady over there. I’ve invited her to audition for my drama school. And I do like a bit of drama. Just ask Aristotle.’
With that she’s gone. Not just gone. Disappeared. Behind Andy. In a puff.
Shit. Maybe I AM still sick, after all? And who the hairy bollox is Aristotle? Maybe he was the driver of that flying horse Uber… maybe it was some kind of hit on Big Mac after all. What must he have done to so badly piss off a load of Greeks?
Andy hasn’t noticed the vanishing act behind him, nor Xandy’s astonishment, he’s just pocketed the card and said, ‘Cool! I could really use the cash! Are you up for it, mate, shall we call her tomorrow?’
Xandy focuses, ‘Oh, I’m always up for you… I mean, I’m always up for a wedge… of dosh. And I bloody love aeroplanes. Have I ever told you that? Probably not. I even dreamt I owned my own airline last night. Salamander Skies, or something weird like that. Really strange dream though… Oh never mind. So, Andy,’ he says turning his hips towards the grab-what-you-can machine but keeping his eyes on the real prize, ‘can I interest you in a cuddly toy…?’
Next thing all the lights in the arcade are flashing and the bells and whistles are going off. There’s the sound of cheering. Xandy and Andy follow the magnetic commotion to its source.
Well blow me. Roxy’s slot machine has hit three golden llamas in a row. Jackpot.
(link back to Chapter 10 and from there to 9, etc.)
For more about Stephanie Bretherton, please see below the notes.
That’s all folks! (For now?)
Tag Team Tales: Welcome to a special kind of serialised short (well, quite longish actually) story, in which 10 authors from The Breakthrough Book Collective have collaborated to compose a chapter of between 500 and 2000 words and then pass the narrative along.
Each author had a free hand — within certain guidelines — to let their imaginations run, in their voice and style, from any character’s point of view and introducing new characters and plot twists if so inspired. Each contributor had one week to add their chapter (circumstances permitting) and could also share input when it came to the final edit.
The story was kicked off by an initial prompt drawn from a non-fiction book, opened at random on a page which happened to mention Alexander The Great in the context of modern neuroscience and, bizarrely, jet fuel.
We will be posting a chapter a day over 11 days (one author who was holding the story thread topped and tailed).
Born in Hong Kong to a pair of Liverpudlians (and something of a nomad ever since) Stephanie now lives on a cliff in Cornwall, in deep gratitude for her coastal perch. Before returning to her first love of writing fiction, Stephanie spent many years pursuing alternative forms of storytelling, from stage to screen and media to marketing. Meanwhile, an enduring love affair with words has led her down many a wormhole on the written page.
Drawn to what connects rather than separates, Stephanie is fascinated by the spaces between absolutes and opposites, between science and spirituality, nature and culture. This lifelong curiosity (and occasional conflict) has been channelled into her debut novel, Bone Lines, a Kindle bestseller, and its award-winning follow-up, The Fire in Their Eyes, book two in The Children of Sarah series (which is currently on a special e-book deal). Stephanie also writes short stories, such as Human Error and Entropy published in Breakthrough Books’ Taking Liberties and Order and Chaos anthologies respectively, and The Right Kind of Medicine for Sunshine Superhighway from J Henge.