She shrugged and walked away to where they’d left the bag and the sketch pad. He followed her and sat on the edge of the dune while she opened her doctor’s bag and pulled out a plastic bag that had something dry and shredded in the bottom of it.
‘There’s less left than I thought. It should do you though.’ She handed the bag to him and said, ‘Just eat it.’ He emptied some of the dry flakes into his hand and ate them, and as he chewed she said, ‘It’ll probably just play tricks with your vision, okay? You might hallucinate but not everyone does.’
He fought to swallow the first mouthful and said, ‘I heard people think they can fly and jump off things.’
‘Lucky there’s no multi-storey car park out here.’ He emptied the rest into his hand and took them. ‘You want me to stay with you?’ He shook his head. ‘Okay, just wait for it to kick in or take a walk or something. I’m not going to be far away.’ He smiled this time, because she sounded concerned and protective, and yet until this morning they’d probably never imagined speaking to each other.
She wandered off with her camera and he stayed sitting on the edge of the dune, looking out at the sea, his fingers playing absentmindedly in the cold sand. He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there before he noticed the changes. They crept up on him, his vision slowly expanding, the colours, the essence of things becoming stronger.
He picked up a handful of sand and watched it falling through his fingers, each grain radiating colour and light. Even his hand looked more real, possessed of an intricacy and beauty he’d never seen before. He looked up at the sky and was transfixed by its blue, a deep inviting blue he felt he could fall into and swim through.
He got up and started walking through the dunes. He liked this, the way he was still consciously him and yet his vision had been opened up. It was the same world he could see around him but with the dull surface torn away, exposing the reality beneath.
He’d been walking for a while when he heard someone call out. He turned and saw a child running between the dunes. There were other people out here. He followed and saw a glimpse again, not sure if it was a child now. Maybe it was Lorna or someone else. He walked on and as he cut between two of the dunes he saw the person ahead, sitting hunched on the sand, back towards him.
He moved forward slowly, trying to focus on the shape of the person sitting there. It kept changing in size, in colour, intensity, now a child, now someone bigger. He was only a few feet away when he heard a noise and stopped, distracted. It was something growling, like a large dog.
He looked at the back of the figure on the ground in front of him, hunched over, head bowed, face hidden. It was a child, he thought, and there was the growling again. He looked around, becoming fearful, back at the figure, and realized then, that the child itself was growling. If it was a child, whatever it was.
Will began to back away, disturbed now, and the growling was getting louder, more menacing, the shape threatening all of a sudden. He started to run and he could still hear it behind him and the dunes were confusing, the noise coming at him from different directions.
He heard his name called and stopped, the panic subsiding, his name again. He turned and Lorna was standing there. Morticia. It felt like hours since he’d seen her. She took hold of his face, looking into his eyes, and said, ‘Just a little dilated!’
‘There’s a dog,’ he said. ‘It was chasing me.’
‘There’s no dog.’ She took him by the arm and led him back to where their things were. ‘Sit down here and relax.’
‘There’s a dog.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.’ He believed her. He lay back in the sand and looked up at the blue of the sky again, finding it comforting and familiar. He couldn’t hear the growling now anyway. All he could hear was the sea, a long way off, whispering gently.
He slept and when he woke it took a while to realize where he was and what he’d been doing. His vision was clear again. He felt like he’d slept a long time, as if the world had moved on while he’d been lying there. He lifted his head. Lorna was sitting on the side of the dune facing him, sketching, looking at him.
‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘How long have I been asleep?'
‘Years,’ she said and turned the sketch pad to show him. It was a picture of him sleeping.
‘I like your drawing.’ She smiled and looked at the picture herself. He thought of the experience with the mushrooms and said, ‘That was amazing. I’m gonna do it again.’
She grimaced slightly and laughed, saying, ‘Funny, I wouldn’t have said it was your ideal drug of choice. Maybe you should stick to gin and tonic or sherry or something.’