Amazing Journey
by ff_b
("Sickness will surely take the mind...where minds don't usually go." -- The Who)
Many cultures have regarded the visions which one may have under the influence of drugs or illness to provide a portal to alternative realities, or at least be a source of profound insight into the self. Without wanting to go there, the tainted frozen off-brand hamburger pizza that Simon had consumed had taken him to that portal, his food poisoning making him suddenly and violently ill. "I'm running off at both ends," muttered Simon between bouts of projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea. After well over an hour of this, Simon was weak and nauseated, his nostrils reeking from his own puke and his guts heaving. He later passed into an uneasy sleep, covered with flop sweat.
In this troubled sleep, Simon opened his inner eyes to behold his furry self sitting on the edge of his mattress. "Hello, Mate," said the wolf. "Nasty touch of salmonella you've got there," he observed with concern. "You've really gotta be more careful about what you eat, 'ya know...'you are what you eat,' as the hippies said in the '60's..."
"Far freakin' out," thought Simon. "And just who might you be?," he asked the wolf.
"Why, I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together," grinned the wolf, paraphrasing the Beatles. "I'm what you are inside," he continued, "I'm yer inner furry self!"
"And I am the walrus," added Simon, rolling his eyes. For a moment, he thought that he saw the wolf puff on a joint.
"No, you're a wolf," his furry self counseled, exhaling some really pungent-smelling smoke. "And you've got to let me out more! Give me a paw at the helm, so to speak." The wolf shifted on the bed, crossing his legs. "I only want to dip my muzzle!"
"I'm just a fan," protested Simon weakly. "You're not really there!"
The wolf was growing annoyed. Rising to his feet, he picked up the delirious Simon by his puke-spattered shirt with one clawed hand as if he were weightless. "Now y'all listen here," growled the wolf, baring his teeth. He held Simon's face inches away from his yellow eyes. "I'm at the very core of you! I'm your energy, your strength, your driving force, your freakin' SOUL! - -You ignore me at your peril!" The wolf tossed the young man roughly back onto the bed, obviously not strained by the effort. "I can get you through this crappy life, if you let me!"
Simon's guts rolled again; he looked green about the gills. "If you can get me through this, you can take over," he offered weakly.
"I thought you'd never ask," the wolf said with a grin. He reached out a powerful clawed hand to clench the young man's shoulder, this time in fellowship and unity. At his touch, Simon's head snapped back on his neck, his eyes rolling into his head; it looked like he was having a seizure. The wolf leaned his own head back, and opened his jaws in a powerful howl. So piercing was the cry and so vivid the image that Simon awoke from his sleep with a start, and was alone...
Looking about, Simon sat up in bed and swung his legs to the floor. He felt like he had slept for a long time. The food poisoning seemed to have run its course. Simon pulled off his stained shirt revealing his hairy, well-muscled chest. He sniffed at the shirt, curled his lip in disgust, and flung it away.
"Guess I need a shower," he muttered. "There's going to be some changes around here. And after I clean up a bit, I just might run something down, and kill it..."
