The Mantis Synchronicity - Book Five - 14. Chapter 14 - Mushrooms

Dozi and Tchama were headed to the Teshon City airstrip. Even though it was early morning and springtime, the old tarmac was already scorching hot. The women crossed it to a section where broken boulders made it easy for them to climb down onto the walkway that led along the water’s edge. Dozi and Tchama descended and followed the narrow path. They passed behind Bloodwater Falls, and as they approached the Breakneck Shipwreck, Dozi slipped into the cave where she collected mushrooms. She often foraged on her own, but it was nice to have the company of Tchama. Each season provided Dozi with different varieties of mushrooms, and her favorite foraging season was close.

Tchama followed Dozi into the cave and the two women looked around.

“It’s been over a week since I’ve been here,” Dozi said.

“Because of moving into Shifton?” Tchama asked.

Dozi nodded, but she was distracted. She had spotted something. “Moonshrooms,” she whispered, as if speaking their name too loud might make them disappear.

“Are they here?!” Tchama asked in delight.

Dozi squatted by the wall of the cave, plucked a small cluster of bluish mushrooms, and brought them outside to the light. She examined every inch of the fruiting bodies, their stalks, caps, and gills. “Yes,” she whispered with relish. Dozi looked at Tchama. “We’ll make our first small batch tonight.”

Tchama thrust her one arm into the air. “Alright!” She turned back to the cave’s opening. “Were there more?”

“Let’s see what else we can find.”

Dozi knew mushrooms, even though her first time in the cave she had foolishly acted like she did not, and she paid the price, getting sick on the mushrooms she ate. The entrance and a hole in the roof allowed light to shine into the back, and the two women meticulously went over every inch of the cave, collecting a variety of mushrooms, but they found only a single other cluster of moonshrooms.

The sun was high when they finished, and instead of going back the way they came, the pair of them began to make their way farther along the rocky pathway of Widdershins Bay. They passed the Breakneck Shipwreck and eventually reached a slope in the land that was less sheer and was possible for them to climb. The walk back to Teshon City behind the falls and across the airstrip would have taken a quarter the time, but the tarmac became brutally hot during the days. Their return took them up the coast, to the forest, and eventually to Bloodwater Crossing. The old Oselian entryway that gave Gate Town its name loomed ahead of Dozi and Tchama like motionless sentinels of a bygone era.

“Any deliveries to make in the main part of Gate Town?” Tchama asked.

“Just one today,” Dozi replied. “The others are in Shifton.”

The outskirts of Teshon City had been a rough part of town for generations. The impoverished region was finally on the rise, but there were still struggles. Many people were barely removed from living on the street; little shacks and shanties surrounded the old gates. Most of the inhabitants were just trying to survive, but despite the changes that were slowly improving life for many people, some of them were used to relying on violence.

As Dozi and Tchama walked under the bright sun, the sounds of the city were comforting. They heard people laughing and shouting, and they heard a baby crying. There was some sort of mechanical whistle that rang out for a moment, followed by a repetitive clicking that grew quieter and faded beneath the other sounds of the city. Then the women heard something neither of them liked.

“Hey there, girls, wanna come play?” A drunken and disheveled man came shambling out of the alley toward Dozi and Tchama. “Smile for me, girls! Show me how pretty you can be.” The man noticed that Dozi was in bulky clothes that entirely hid whatever type of body she had beneath, and he grabbed her jacket and tried to pull it open.

“What the fuck?” Dozi squawked, pulling herself away from the letch.

“Come on, how’s about a little kiss?” The man realized that Tchama was missing an arm.

She was reaching for him.

“Freak!” he shrieked. His focus turned from Dozi. “Where’s your arm, freak?” He let out a shrill peal of laughter at Tchama, but to his surprise, she grabbed him by the collar and hoisted the much larger man off his feet. His laughter abruptly ended, and he clutched at her arm, choking out the words, “Y-you’re a… a… a Messiah?”

Tchama’s face became fierce. “Don’t call me that,” she growled. She began to walk, with the man’s feet kicking at the air like a little child seated on a tall stool, and he tried to look over his shoulder to see where she was taking him. There was only a wall, and Tchama pushed him against it. She could have pushed his soft body through the wall, but she simply said, “You need to learn some manners.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.

Dozi stepped up behind Tchama and glared at the drunk. “What would you have done if I’d have said those same words to you? You’d have laughed at me, and you still would have done whatever you were intending. You’re lucky this is who’s with me.” Dozi jabbed her thumb at Tchama. “If Agrell was still here,” Dozi paused and spoke slowly, “you… would… already… be… dead.”

“I’m sorry,” the man blubbered. “I’m sorry.”

“Your sorrys mean nothing,” Tchama stated flatly. “You’re just sorry it turned out that you’re the weak one in this situation.”

“Maybe we should take out his eyes,” Dozi said casually, “in the hopes that he will learn compassion.”

The drunkard looked at her in shock.

Dozi stared right back at him.

His feet were still dangling, and Tchama pushed him against the wall a little harder.

“You’re lucky,” Dozi repeated. “If either of us had been any number of other women who we know, you would be in much worse shape than you are right now.”

He squeaked out the word, “Please!”

Tchama dropped him.

Dozi knelt close to the man and whispered one more time, “You’re lucky.” She pulled a single moonshroom from one of the clusters in her basket. “Eat this,” she demanded.

The drunkard looked between Dozi and Tchama.

Tchama repeated Dozi in an icy tone. “Eat it.”

The man tentatively took the mushroom and stuck it in his mouth, but he immediately gagged and spat it into his hand. “It’s disgusting.”

Tchama made a fist, punched into the wall above his head like a battering ram, and tiny particles rained down on him.

He stuck the mushroom back in his mouth, retching as he chewed, and he swallowed it.

Dozi stood and stepped beside Tchama. Without another word, the two women turned and left him on the pavement.

“What a waste of a good moonshroom,” Tchama complained.

“You know moonshrooms are similar in a lot of ways to the muluflower Olona likes to smoke,” Dozi replied. “We like moonshrooms because they help expand our emotions, but their effects can be very introspective, and they can help people negate old ideals. Let’s hope he gains a little insight from his encounter with us.” She shook herself. “Ugh, why are so many men so gross?!”

“That’s just men,” Tchama replied.

Dozi pointed ahead of them. “There’s the shop where we’re going. Also,” she added, “thanks for protecting me.”

The pair of them dropped off Dozi’s mushrooms at a few little cafés and two markets before returning to their new home.

The sun was just beginning to set, but Dozi did not go to the roof to look for Ilya.

“Aren’t you headed upstairs?” Tchama asked.

Dozi sighed. “I miss Ilya a lot. I wish she’d come home so we could help her come to terms with whatever she’s feeling. I know she’s upset about everything that happened with Unadi, but his death wasn’t her fault, and she shouldn’t be alone.” Dozi kicked off her boots. “I’m not going up to the roof tonight. I wish she’d see that we’ve all made decisions we thought were good but turned out wrong. I wish Ilya would come home. I miss her. We all make mistakes.”