1525 words (6 minute read)

The Spark

The rest of his night had been spent yawning and smoking weed, before eventually stumbling upstairs, where he laid in his bed, and drifted off to sleep, his head spinning in circles. He woke up 15 minutes before his alarm was set to go off, clear headed and in a good mood.


He realized that he had fallen asleep in the clothes he had on the night before, remembering that he had laid out on the lawn of the backyard, gazing at the stars. He decided to take a long shower after his morning workout, then go downstairs to cook breakfast for his grandmother, which he had never done before.


He didn’t have to be at the shop for another couple of hours and the walk only took him about 15-20 minutes. He decided to do 10 extra pushups and sit-ups along with his usual 50. After his shower, he got dressed, and saw his gun sitting on the top of his dresser. 


He realized that he didn’t need it unless he needed it, and decided he would leave it home today, stashing it back inside his top drawer before making his way downstairs. His grandmother was still asleep in her bed as he made his way to the kitchen. He crept past her silently, trying not to wake up Norman as well, who would surely alert his grandmother to his presence.


He put on a pot of coffee for her, and started to gather ingredients for his breakfast. He grabbed two eggs, two slices of bread, green onions, garlic, salt, and pepper. He scrambled the eggs, cut up the onions and garlic and threw them on top, sprinkling on salt and pepper as he mixed them all together. He was just putting the buttered up bread into the empty frying pan when his grandmother popped up at the kitchen doorway.


“What are you doing?” She asked curiously.


“Cooking you breakfast.” He said as he flipped the bread over. “There’s coffee in the pot. I can’t stay and eat I have to get to work by 9.” He checked the clock on the microwave, 8:25.


“What has gotten into you?” His grandmother asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as she did so.


“Nothing, just want to help out a bit more is all.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Love you.” He said as he made his way for the front door. 


“Junior.” He heard his grandmother say as he turned around. She had tears in her eyes and her face was all scrunched up.


“I love you too.” She said.


He went over and gave her a hug. 


“I’ll be back tonight ok? Call me if you need me.” She nodded her head, unable to speak as she placed her hand over her mouth.


He smiled at her and left.


The boy got to the shop with a few minutes to spare, so he stopped at the deli, deciding to get a banana and a coffee. It actually wasn’t that bad, he thought, as he tossed his banana peel at the base of a tree trunk that was planted in the sidewalk. He entered the store to find the old man sipping his coffee and reading a newspaper as he sat on the stool behind the counter.


“Good morning.” Greeted the boy cheerfully as he made his way to the front counter.


The old man looked up and smiled at him.


“I assume you were triumphant in your heroic journey?” He asked, folding his newspaper together and placing it on the counter. 


“How do you grow mushrooms?” The boy asked.


“Right to the point I see. Good. I sense much transformation in you already. It may be easy to change, but it is quite the difficult task to maintain that change.”


The boy removed his hoodie and went to place it behind the counter.


“No gun today?” Asked the old man curiously.


“No.” Said the boy. “I felt like I didn’t need it.” 


The old man grinned. “Very good. Your transformation is developing nicely. Did you get to confront your fears?”


The boy thought about it. He had definitely confronted the dark side of his moon, and had indeed come face to face with parts of himself he never knew existed. He did feel that he was no longer afraid of the mystery of death, how could he be afraid to die when he knew what it felt like to be one with everything.


Maybe when I die, I’ll just become a part of that everything, he thought. That brought the boy much comfort. Even though, the thought of actually dying still made him very uncomfortable.


“Yes.” Said the boy, “I have.”


The old man laughed.


“We shall see.” he said, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.


“Now that you have experienced what it is like to be at one with the cosmic energy, your roots are strong enough to grow deep, and we can move forward.” Said the old man as he pulled a crumbled joint out of his pocket like a magician.


He put his hand in his pocket, but was unable to find a lighter. He pointed a finger at the boy.


“Despite what you may think, transformation does not come overnight. What you felt was a spark, it is now up to you to keep the fires lit!” Said the old man, with an odd face that made the boy feel like he was accusing him of something.


“As far as mushrooms are concerned,”continued the old man, who had found the lighter he had been searching for, “They are not to be abused. Mushrooms are a sacred sacrament and should be respected as such.” The old man lit the joint as he leaned back slightly.


“I want to grow them and give them to the world.” The boy said as the old man coughed. “I want everyone to feel what I felt last night. I want the world to be connected to everything like I was, together. I think if everyone was on that same level, we could...we could change the world.”


The boy looked at the old man hopefully, surely he would understand. But the old man frowned, and looked at the boy with great sadness. 


“The world is not yet ready, because you are not yet ready.” The boy looked very hurt by this. 


“Your ambitions are in the right place, but you must first grow yourself before you can grow the world. That is how you grow mushrooms, they use you to grow themselves, and you use them to grow yourself.” 


The boy was having a hard time understanding.


“This knowledge, your wisdom, will grow in time.” Stated the old man.


“This shop, is it just a front to sell drugs?” The boy asked earnestly.


The old man gave him a very offended look.


“I’m sorry.” Apologized the boy with his head down. “I just didn’t see anyone come in yesterday but Rowan, and...”


“And you thought that’s all I do here.” The old man interrupted. “Sell mushrooms to hippies?” 

The old man laughed. “My boy, did you not see everything that you cleaned yesterday. The books, the incense, the crystals, the jars of herbs and powdered fungi?” 


The boy looked around the shop, then looked back at the old man. 


“The mushrooms are the spark, the shop is to keep the fire lit. Every crystal here affects an ailment and deals with one or more of your chakras. Every book, every little brass instrument, has its purpose. That is why you are not ready. You have yet to understand the deeper meaning behind everything that you see. You cannot help the world by giving people mushrooms without guidance. Or else, you really wouldn’t be anything more than some common drug dealer.” Finished the old man.


The boy took all this in, breathing deeply. He felt like he wanted to cry, it all felt so overwhelming. But he wanted to learn now, he wanted to know how to heal people.


“I understand.” Said the boy.


“Good!” Replied the old man. “Good good.” The old man walked over to the book shelf, scanning it thoroughly before removing a tattered, off white colored book. He handed it to the boy. 


“This will teach you the basics of what you want to know.” The boy looked at the book, The Psilocybin Mushroom Bible: The definitive guide to growing and using magic mushrooms.


“Start there.” Said the old man, tapping the cover of the book. The boy was about to open the book when the old man stopped him.


“Not now.” He said sternly, “You still have a lot of work to do.” 


The boy nodded, and placed the book behind the counter by his hoodie.


“So what are we doing today?” The boy asked.


Next Chapter: The Dragon