The master or the puppet
"Anything new in store, Jeffrey?" Kieran asked as the door into the shop closed behind him. He trod heavily across the carpeted wooden floor, sending strained creaks sounding out into the air. Jeff looked up from the magazine he was reading from on top of the glass counter.
The shop he was in contained a mixture of dolls and dummies. Most of them for display purposes rather than toys, but that was not what Kieran was looking for. He was a professional ventriloquist by trade - at least when he was not waiting on tables or flipping burgers to pay the bills. And he dropped in at least once a week to see if Jeff had anything new in for him to take.
"One or two from off skips and other crap that charity shops couldn't shift," he said. "I've got them in the back if you want a look."
"You know I do, mate," Kieran said as he came around the counter and followed Jeff into the storeroom. The storage space was not as neatly laid out as the shop itself. Various costumes from theatres that had finished productions and cheap-and-cheerful fancy dress shops were either hung up on a rack waiting to go on display, or piled haphazardly onto the floor waiting to be cleaned. In the corner next to a pile of cuddly toys and broken dolls was a small selection of ventriloquist dummies and puppets.
"This is all we've got in," Jeff told him. "I'll leave you to have a look. Give me a shout if you fancy any of them."
"Will do, Jeff," Kieran smiled as he turned and knelt down next to the puppets. The first one he looked at was a wooden old style dummy that looked like a child with lipstick painted onto it. He recognised it from video clips of fifties and sixties ventriloquist and comics. The look of it made him shudder, so he put it down.
The second one seemed to hold his attention for the longest. It was a little larger than the others. Holding it up so that its legs touched the floor at full length it was half as big as him. The damn thing was ugly as sin too. It looked to Kieran to be some kind of bird, likely a raven. The cold black eyes stared lifelessly out from the head, at the top of the black beak which was slightly worn from use. The feathers felt pretty real to the touch. He found himself examining most of them individually; admiring the handiwork of whomever had created the piece. He reached inside the puppet using the hole just in front of where the large tail feathers were stuck inside and felt the lining smoothly caressing his skin - he thought it felt like silk. The final examination of the item involved putting his hand further in and moving the mouth. It moved with relative ease and his hand fit snugly inside. It was difficult to remove at first, but Kieran managed to wiggle his hand free.
"Jeff!" he called out, his mind made up. Jeff came in from the shop and looked inquisitively at Kieran holding up the bird by the back of the neck. "How much for this one?"
"Well I was going to put it on display at just under a couple of hundred, but I'll let you take it away for fifty, seeing as I know money's tight as hell for you," Jeff said. Kieran looked it up and down again before lugging it onto his shoulder and rifling through his pocket for some money, which he passed to Jeff in the form of crumpled paper. Jeff took the money and quickly counted it before sticking it in his own pocket. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah, cheers Jeff, I'll nip around for a beer later," Kieran told him as Jeff disappeared into the shop. Kieran held the puppet and went out through the back door. He walked up the alley until he reached the street and turned to head away from the shop. The bus stop was just around the next corner and, looking at his watch, Kieran knew he would not have to wait for too long.
The bus ride home was eventful enough, having used the opportunity to practise building a character for the puppet by entertaining a couple of children. The two children, a boy and a girl of around six or seven, seemed to enjoy the mirth. The mother seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet the distraction offered her from the children. Using the puppet felt quite easy in comparison with the two dummies he had been using as part of his routine. The only problem was getting his hand free from inside after using it. It meant he would have to open it up and make a few modifications to free up his hand, but he felt he was on to a winner with the mangy old puppet, which would be an ironically fresh addition to his act. Hopefully enough of a change to his routine that would mean he no longer had to work in the fast food industry to keep a roof over his head.
When he finally trudged his way to his apartment through the cold Kieran placed the puppet down onto the kitchen table and chucked his coat haphazardly onto the sofa. Heading back into the kitchen he picked up the kettle, observing the weight of the water contained within, then placed it back onto the side and switched it on. Rather than waiting around the cold kitchen for the kettle to come to the boil, Kieran chucked a teabag into a ceramic mug and went to the living room to turn the gas fire on. It woofed into life from a turn of the switch sat on top of the fireplace. Satisfied that he was now going to be warm and, soon, no longer thirsty, Kieran sat on the sofa next to the raven like puppet.
It sat there staring back at him lopsidedly through its lifeless black eyes. The eyes would have to be switched for something less intimidating, Kieran realised. The eyes it had now, along with the realistic shiny black feathers, gave it a more lifelike feel. The problem with that is it looked too real. Even the sinewy black legs of the avian puppet felt hard and pebbled like they belonged. Thinking about how much he would have to modify of the object, Kieran started to feel like maybe he had taken on a lost cause. Even so the bird looked brilliant.
The kettle gave an audible click when it had come to the boil. Kieran pushed himself up to stand and then paced into the kitchen. He took hold of the kettle and poured the hot water into the mug, stirring the teabag around causing the water to darken as it passed through the ground tealeaves. Kieran put some milk in from the fridge and then picked the teabag out with the spoon. He tipped the spoon over, forcing the bag to drop into the dustbin, and then chucked the spoon casually into the sink as he made his way back into the living room, once again sitting by the puppet. Kieran knew he had nothing planned for the rest of the evening. He could start making the modifications to the puppet before heading out to meet Jeff for a few drinks. There was work tomorrow, but he knew that having a hangover would not put too much strain on flipping a few burgers in order to pay his struggling rent.
"Go on then," Kieran said to himself when he took a sip of his tea and looked at the raven. "One last go."
One hand placed the mug of tea onto the top of the gas fire, spilling some of it over the lip and circling around the base of the mug as it settled. The other hand was already inside the puppet. Kieran rolled his sleeve up before his hand began stroking its way up the silken lining until it reached the hard beak where he tucked his fingers into place and took hold of the puppet.
"So what's your name?" Kieran asked to his covered hand.
"Ray," the puppet replied through Kieran's tight lips.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, Ray Vann," it said.
"Raven?"
"No, you tit, Ray Vann."
"So, Ray Vann, what are you doing here?" Kieran asked, smiling, but only for a moment.
"Well first I'm going to take your body for my own and let you take my place," the puppet replied of its own accord, forcing Kieran's hand to move inside of its own synthetic body.
"What the fuck?" Kieran gasped in surprise, trying to pull the puppet off with his other hand. The raven promptly bit at his hand with the hard beak, with some force, causing Kieran to yell out in discomfort. The raven puppet was stuck to his hand, leaving no room to wrench his arm free from within. In an effort to discourage further attempts at freedom it head-butted Kieran using the beak and his own arm. Kieran held his face with his free left arm and fell off the sofa onto the floor, the puppet still firmly stuck on his right hand.
After a moment of disorientation the puppet came loose and Kieran whipped it off, chucking it in disgust at the sofa. He ran into the bathroom, heading for the sink and hastily turning the handle of the cold water tap, sending a torrent of near freezing water flowing down and around the drainer of the ceramic bowl. Kieran scooped up handfuls of the water and threw it into his face, several times. After a long moment of panicking and vague self drowning, Kieran stopped and looked into the mirror at his face. Breathing raggedly from the experience, sending water and spittle onto the glass surface of the mirror, Kieran looked back down at the sink and turned off the tap. He looked back at the mirror and reeled away in horror.
The eyes!
His eyes!
Kieran cautiously crept back to the sink and mirror, his mouth agape in shock at the sight of his eyes. The whites of his eyes were now a dark brown which Kieran saw envelop the last parts of his deep green irises. He closed them and rubbed at the screwed lids, feeling the sense of touch numbing away. Opening his eyes Kieran looked at his hands. The fingers fused together into a nub of lumped flesh. Turning them over to look at where the palms used to be Kieran saw the tips of black feathers emerging from his skin.
The thing that scared him was that he could not feel it. The sensations of the changes were significantly dulled by the empty numbness of his body. He knew exactly what was happening to him. It was that puppet's fault and he knew it. Kieran could still move around and even as the feathers grew further out of his body he moved away from the mirror, kicking his shoes off to walk because of the shift in shape of his feet. The talons that were on his three remaining front toes clicked on the tiled floor of the bathroom, the fourth rear toe dragged along the floor as he walked. The unnatural black pebbling of the skin only served to anger him further when he noticed them. Nevertheless he stormed his way into the living room to confront the source of his torment and stopped dead in his tracks.
The once bird-like puppet, once only a few feet tall, now stood in the living room facing away from Kieran. The newly formed naked human turned around, bearing no further resemblance to its previous form but for the large black beak and the lifeless dark brown eyes. It blinked and the brown was replaced by the green that belonged to Kieran, which narrowed to show the whites of the eyes. The black beak of the creature paled and shrank and split into several pieces, all of which continued to reduce in size until they fit perfectly into its mouth. The beak had become human teeth, which it took a second to run its tounge over. Kieran was about to reach out and charge the creature that had taken his form with his feathered limbs when he lost control of his legs and flopped to the floor. Holding himself up with his new and useless wings Kieran looked up at what that puppet had become - him. His own teeth fused themselves together and pushed awkwardly out from his mouth, changing colour to the same dark hue of what would become the beak of a raven. One last gasp of air came through the nostrils at the top of the beak before Kieran lost complete control and flopped to the floor lifelessly.
"I'm sorry about that," the new Kieran said as he leaned down to pick up the puppet Kieran. "I really am, but I've been waiting so long for my freedom."
The human took Kieran's clothes from his inanimate body and proceeded to dress himself. He went through the pockets and looked through Kieran's wallet. Taking an interest in the life he was going to lead.
"Kieran O' Reilly," the puppet said with interest as he looked at Kieran's business card. He then picked Kieran up and put him on the sofa before sitting next to him. "Professional ventriloquist, it says here. How ironic."
Kieran managed to blink, once.
"What's that? You need a hand talking?" he laughed at Kieran before placing the unfortunate puppet onto his lap. Kieran felt violated as the thief of his identity and self took his hand and slid it up him, violating what little dignity he had left by shoving his arm up where his rectum used to be. "You were saying?"
"Change me back!" Kieran cried out as his beak moved the previous puppet's hand.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," he explained. "You see, the curse only goes one way at a time, so unless you manage to find someone else you're going to be this way for a long time."
"Please!"
"Nope! I've spent over a hundred years trapped as that bloody bird," he looked at the card again. "Kieran O' Reilly; it's a little different from Charles Whitworth, but I'm sure I'll manage."
"But I'm Kieran," he sobbed. Charles, or now Kieran, let free his grip of the puppet's beak and pulled his hand out from within. The puppet opened its mouth through the shock of the sensation and then flopped down uselessly.
"That'll take some getting used to," the new Kieran told him. "I'll tell you more when I get back, but for now, I have my life to enjoy." The human stood up from the chair and pulled Kieran's keys out of the pocket of the trousers he was now wearing. He headed out through the door and into the world outside, leaving Kieran to listen to the sound of the closing door and the following silence.