“I know I've hurt you / And I wonder if you know / That I never really meant to / No, I never, never really meant to???”
From: "Turn Me Around!?" (C. Coltrane); Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.
Meanwhile, back in the lift, Tula was starting to feel the effects of spending time with a man suffering from T.D. (or Terminal Dullness, to give it its full title). As she stood listening to the man's monotonously inane chatter, she experienced for the first time just how tough it was to be around such a person.
To all intents and purposes, she was now as much a victim as he was...
"It's a bit like the dullness is a loaded machine-gun and he's firing it point-blank range at me..." she mused to herself, perhaps a little over dramatically.
"Don't worry!" sighed the man, whose name Tula had just learned was Raymond Snood. "Don't worry - I know this whole Terminal Dullness thing sounds rather bad, but ultimately, it's only me that it will kill. You can't catch it off me, it isn't contagious or transferable or infectious..."
Tula smiled weakly; she really wasn't so sure. She didn't like to say so for fear of sounding rude, but if she had to spend much longer in the presence of this dull fellow, then she was either going to have to jam her fingers in her ears, or risk slipping into some kind of boredom-induced coma.
"I'm just worried about you Raymond," she lied, determined to get a dialogue started to avoid listening to his depressive soliloquy. "Are you going to be okay? You look very pale."
Raymond Snood looked at her, his eyes filled with nervous dread. "Really? You think I look pale? As white as a sheet, you say? Do you think so?"
"Err ... Maybe a little bit, yes... How do you feel?"
"I have a dull pain in my head and a dull ache in my spine - but otherwise I feel pretty normal. I'm rather used to dull pains in my head, just a dull continuous throb..."
Tula nodded, blankly. "Well, that's something, at least..." she replied, fumbling for interesting conversation to make. Raymond was wrong - Terminal Dullness most definitely WAS contagious, and it appeared to have begun impeding and desiccating her social skills already.
"Don't worry..." he smiled and then went back to looking at his feet - suddenly he sighed. "Oh, and before you ask, there's nothing you can do to help me..."
Tula smiled wanly and wondered to herself whether anyone on Earth could do anything to help such an unbelievably dull man. More to the point, it felt like she was the one in need of help. She'd tried so hard to reach the hospital as quickly as possible, only to find herself mired in this suffocatingly slow and boring lift, and now once again her thoughts turned to Horner. She needed to be strong and support Horner in his time of need.
Not that she'd even seen him in nearly four years...
To be perfectly honest she felt nervous about seeing him again, yet also excited, and felt like she'd grown a lot as a person since they last saw one another. More than anything, Tula wanted him to be impressed with her highly developed and individual fashion sense. She was wearing her favourite fake-fur giraffe-print cat suit, and had her hair up in a beehive style, so she hoped that she would look impressive as she strode confidently and assuredly into Horner's room.
Not that her outfit appeared to have had any effect on Raymond Snood - but she decided it would have been a miracle if anything had ever interested Snood. She hoped that Horner wouldn't be similarly under-impressed, but doubted he would be anything but complimentary, as she knew him to be such an energetic and encouraging person.
"You look fabulous!" she reassured herself.
What she hoped Horner didn't notice was the fact that, to be honest, she didn't smell quite so fabulous. The outfit hadn't actually been for Horner's benefit. The truth was that she'd been to a fancy dress party the previous evening, drinking strong black coffee all night. She was more of a cappuccino or latte girl, but they'd run out of milk, and by midnight they had run out of alcohol, which was when the coffee bingeing had begun. She must have had at least, seven large mugs full, and diluted only by perhaps two ginger beers, as a nod to an old friend who had turned up at the party wearing steam-driven stilts.
Anyway - the long and the short of it was that she'd danced until dawn, and then gone shopping on her way home. She'd then returned to her flat, found the message from Horner, and rushed out again in a bit of a panic.
So now, there in the lift, she reckoned she probably did whiff a bit; not that Snood seemed to have noticed...
"Why is this lift SO slow?" Tula exclaimed, almost losing her cool and hammering on the lift door with both fists. "Are you absolutely sure it's not stuck, Mr Snood?"
She looked across at him and was shocked to see that Raymond was now slumped on the floor of the lift, a crumpled ball of a man - all eight foot of him...
"We're nearly there," he assured her weakly, "perhaps the field mice are just a little tired this afternoon - I think they must have had a heavy night last night..."
"Field mice!" exclaimed Tula, who knew a little bit about mice, as it happened.
Snood nodded. "Yes - this lift is environmentally friendly - it isn't powered by electricity, but by a team of field mice strapped to a dynamo, who are occasionally poked with a corn on the cob soaked in chilli sauce."
Tula sighed and felt bad - even worse than she had earlier, in fact. "Environmentally friendly..." she muttered as the lift continued creeping on it's slow journey upward, "...but hardly mouse friendly..."
**
Meanwhile, back in the private room on Ward 7, Simon Yeti was the first to speak. To be perfectly honest, he was feeling a trifle confused - there he'd been, expecting to meet some rough tough brute of a man, only to find that this supposed thug now looked like he'd just walked off the pages of a fashion magazine. All sorts of questions were racing through the yeti's mind - he was a beast of the world and indeed no prude - he just wanted to feel that he understood what was going on. At first he'd thought that perhaps Horner had needed such complete reconstructive surgery after his accident, that the surgeons hadn't been sure if he'd originally been a man or a woman. Then he remembered what Katrina had earlier mentioned about Horner being an amphibian who regularly changed his appearance when he shed his scales.
"Well now!" he said unsurely. "You could almost be sisters!"
No matter how estranged they were, it wasn't the sort of thing a man and wife wanted to hear, and both Horner and Katrina shot him disapproving looks. "Hmm, okay. Sorry! I think I'll let you two talk..." said Simon apologetically, letting out an embarrassed growl as he backed away and out of the room, without even a furry wave of goodbye.
Once the door had slammed behind Simon; there was a long silence. Katrina noticed that Horner was looking extremely flushed, and supposed that this was because his body was getting used to its new form. She had helped her husband through many Skin-Times over the years - but she had no intention of showing him any sympathy now.
In all the years they had been together, Drew Horner had never once shed his scales and become a woman...
"So..." smiled Horner, though he was suddenly looking quite weak and had sat himself down on the bed to rest. "How do I look? Do you like the new me?"
Katrina frowned. "I don't know why you even ask. You're a beautiful woman, husband, which is fine if you want to woo yourself a nice new boyfriend or sell toothpaste, but I know you, Horner. As far as I know, you certainly never had any career aspirations of that kind..."
Horner smiled, pushing back his newly grown hair so that he didn't lie on it as he eased into a more comfortable position on the bed. "You might be right," he agreed, "but who knows where my future lies from here on! I mean, a few hours ago, you'd put a curse on me, and I thought that I'd be dead by now. Tell me Katrina," he added, part accusingly, part sorrowfully, "why was it that you wanted to kill me, again? Had I done anything specifically wrong, or had you just grown tired of me?"
Katrina merely laughed at this, turning to the mirror to admire her nose wart. "If you've called the police, Horner, you shouldn't have - I'll only turn them all into frogs..."
"How original..."
"Okay - antelopes then - green antelopes with pink polka-dot swim-suits" she decided. "And yellow tights!"
"That's all very well - although not especially comfortable for the antelopes. Anyway, it's also ultimately unnecessary, Katrina, as I haven't called the police - and have no intention of doing so, either! Because," he sighed and smiled a smile that made him look even more beautiful, "because - well, I'd have thought it was pretty obvious. Because, Katrina, I still have feelings for you, that's why!!"
**
Meanwhile, out in the corridor, Simon Yeti was still fuming. "You should just go home, dear boy..." he told himself crossly, but knew that he couldn't. "I can't just walk out and leave Katrina!!" he told himself, although he was rapidly beginning to wish that he hadn't become involved with either of them - they both seemed very bizarre if he was honest about it.
It was as he stood near the lifts in the entrance to Floor 2 that the doors suddenly opened, and a very distressed woman came hurrying out. "Help! Help!" she cried. "A man has collapsed, someone come quick, he needs help!!"
The woman looked very flustered and the tall man crumpled up on the floor of the lift looked quite worse for wear, but much to Simon's relief he saw that the hospital staff were doing their job and coming to his rescue.
"What a very odd experience - we'd been in that weird lift for almost an hour," the lady muttered, apparently directing her conversation at Simon, "and then the man collapsed! Apparently the lifts are run by field mice...!"
"Good gracious, dear - really!" exclaimed Simon.
"Well, not all of them - but this one was..." the lady continued, as they watched Mr Snood being wheeled away to be given whatever attention he required.
"I suppose I should let you go with him, Miss...?"
"Swiss - Tula Swiss!" Tula replied, shaking his paw, before adding; "I wasn't actually WITH him - I've actually come to see someone else, Mr...?"
"Yeti... Simon Yeti..."
"Really!? I believe I've definitely heard of you!"
"Maybe we have mutual friends, who are you visiting?"
"A man named Drew Horner, he's in Ward 7..."
"Room B?"
"Oh, why yes!" exclaimed Tula. "Do you know him?"
"Kinda..." replied Simon awkwardly. "My next door neighbour and he are married... or divorced... or both... or something! I'm quite confused about the whole set-up, to be perfectly honest! But how, dear lady, do you happen to know such very peculiar people?"
Tula sighed. "That," she began, laughing gently, "is a very long story! Are you sure you really want to hear it?"
Simon Yeti growled earnestly and nodded. "You know, dear lady - I really think I might!"
**
Horner was feeling odd again. Really, it was quite inconvenient feeling as dizzy as he did, especially just as he was trying to appeal to Katrina's better nature. He had absolutely no idea why he still had feelings for her after all she'd done to him recently, and he certainly didn't know why he'd admitted to the fact! Katrina had seemed quite touched when he'd spoken of his enduring affections - at least she'd seemed to, but then suddenly the witch had risen her head and let out a long loud laugh.
"Oh dear!" she'd replied. "That's all very well! But you're a woman now! I'm very sorry to break it to you, Horner darling, but I'm simply not into blonde bombshells!"
Horner had to concede this point; he knew that Katrina's taste in men didn't extend to voluptuous blonde females. However - her reaction had shocked him into considering whether he really wanted to put himself through begging to have her back. Katrina Hortensia was a devious and dangerous tyrant, who had taken it upon herself to attempt to murder him on a number of occasions. It was hardly what you'd call a secure relationship.
"Horner, you have the worst case of self-delusion I've ever known!" he told himself. So far he'd chosen to turn a blind eye to the situation, but in his heart of hearts he knew that she'd been having affairs behind his back with all manner of wizards, goblins and sprites.
In fact, thinking back, he couldn't even remember where they stood on this matter of being married or not. They'd been wed, divorced and separated so many times that he'd lost count. The last time they'd tried to get their relationship blessed, one of Katrina's aunts (who was a phoenix) had set the registry office up in flames; she was mocked mercilessly for being so careless, but she'd managed to rise above it. Even after their last split, they'd still continued to date occasionally, and even this week Horner had been keen to reconcile the relationship...
All the while, she had just wanted him dead...
As he lay in his bed, feeling quite worse for wear, Katrina had gone to get him something to drink, and after a minute or two over by the sink, she came hurrying back with an expression of genuine concern on her face and a large tumbler full of water.
"Shall I call the Sister?" she asked. "You almost stopped breathing then for a moment - your pretty face went quite blue! Here, drink this." Katrina held the glass to Horner's lips, and he was just about to take a grateful sip when he began to feel extremely paranoid.
Was that the scent of bitter almonds?
Suddenly his suspicions seemed to generate a rush of strength. In a flash, Horner was up on his feet, and had Katrina pushed against the door. He was amazed and proud at how quickly his previous strength had returned even in his new female form. "What have you done? Poisoned my water, Katrina? I can smell the cyanide... Are you trying to kill me, again?"
"Of course not! I wouldn't! I'm just worried for you!"
"I don't believe you - drink it yourself," Horner demanded - pressing the half spilt glass of water to Katrina's lips; "You drink it - let's see if it's poisoned or not!" Katrina shook her head and tried to turn away from the glass, but Horner - so dainty in appearance - was far stronger than she was. "Drink it, Katrina," Horner insisted, forcing the glass into her mouth, "DRINK IT OR I'LL BREAK YOUR FILTHY NECK...!"
Will Katrina be forced to drink the water? Is it even really poisoned? What will become of Raymond Snood? Has Tula made a new ally in Simon Yeti or will Simon remain loyal to Katrina?
Find out in the next fur-flying episode of Dusty Acres - an everyday story of wicked folk with furious temperaments...
Mood music for this episode: "Turn Me Around!?" Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.
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