Utterly Mad

Mashad Clearwater

   ‘This ‘story’ is how I began to see, not in the literal sense however. But in a spiritual sense, a sense I haven’t tried in a long time. My name is Mashad Clearwater, and after meeting that man, ‘Puledro Clydesdale’. Who was full of mysteries, beginning to end.’

   ‘When I look back, why was I in Leprett? This religious little ranch town. Did I just happen upon here randomly?’

   ‘Or was I drawn here? Was I destined to meet this gunslinger? This Bounty Hunter?’

   ‘It was rumored that this little town had the most beautiful church in the American Frontier. Not that I could see it very well, of course.’

   ‘I grew up as a pastor’s son, and I thought I was destined to follow in his footsteps. When I was four, I already could read the bible front to back. My father was beyond proud, he called me his ‘Little Parrot’.’

   ‘In my late teens I was diagnosed with ‘Glaucoma’. And my eyesight was going. It hasn’t completely left me yet, but it’s like looking through a straw.’

   ‘A few years back I told my father I was leaving, becoming a Missionary. That was a lie, but… I boarded a train in the black of night. Couldn’t see anything strange about it.’

   ‘But it ultimately caused me to lose most of my eyesight. But it gave me a ‘strange ability’, And a mark that reads, “Luna malum ortu.”’

   ‘“Bad moon rising”’

---

   And then, just for a moment, the milky whiteness of Mashad’s eyes went away. “H-huh? I-... I can see?” He said, dumbfounded. Clydesdale looked him in the eye as he walked away, and the milky-whiteness returned.

‘What just happened? It couldn’t… It’s not possible…’

‘But the disease… Did that really happen?’

‘I touched it… that man’s revolver… My eyes…’

   Mashad’s thoughts ran wild, “W… Wait! You! How did that- How could I see again?!” He shoved past the crowd, “Excuse me, let me through! Dammit move!” He hollered, one of the citizens gave the blind man a look. “What? What’s so-?” Mashad shoved past, “Not now- sorry! Dammit-- Wait!”

   Clydesdale rubbed his eyes, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Christ, boy. What do you want?” he barked, as the blind man wheezed a bit. “What- How did that happen? You saw something. I could see again.” He sputtered, as the bounty hunter let out a silent curse. “Alright, listen. Lemme-” He checked through his wallet for a moment, “Dammit… I’ll treat you to a meal an’ explain it. C’mon.”

   The pair got settled with a stew that’s been cooked for far too long and a rough wood table in a corner of Leprett’s saloon. Clydesdale took out a leather bound journal, with a simple charcoal pencil. He drew a simple rectangle in the journal’s back pages.

   “So. There’s a shape called ‘The Golden Rectangle’. You prolly heard of it. It’s a rectangle that’s made to the ratio 9 to 18. It’s got several characteristics-- Let's say I make another rectangle…” 

   Clydesdale drew another rectangle, “This rectangle I just made is the same ratio, 9 by 18. Now, let’s add another line. See? Another rectangle. And then I make another, and another, and another. And so on and so forth.”

   Clydesdale continued to scribble on the journal, “When I connect the centers of all these shapes… I get a spiral that theoretically goes on infinitely.” Mashad gave him a look, as Puledro took the steel ball and set it on Mashad’s hand. He gave it a spin and the blind man’s eyes healed once again, if only for a moment. “It’s a disease, ain’t it? ‘The Spin’ can’t get rid of the disease, but…” Clydesdale looked Mashad in the eye, “Forget it.”

   Mashad gave a shocked look, “But--    Why did you explain this to me?!” He shouted, slamming his hands against the table as he stood back up. Clydesdale explained calmly, “Y’prolly could figure it out yerself, you seem smart enough.” He explained, standing up to leave the table. Mashad simply stood there, stunned as he watched him walk up the stairs to his room.