Lose 10 Pounds of Ugly Fat... Cut Off Your Head

I've been walking for over an hour when I reach the village with the wooden sign labeled "Cliffton". My climb down the ravine and back up again has left me filthy and drenched in sweat. The people on the other side offered nothing but jeers and sneers - no news of Daisuke.

Passing the signpost, I enter the village. It's made up of small thatched huts and rutted dirt roads. One of these houses must belong to the traveler who helped me the last time I was here. My gut clenches with nervousness at the thought of knocking on random doors to look for him.

The people here can't be any meaner than the ones on the other side, I think. Besides, there's really no other choice.

Dust is whipping through the air. It settles for a moment and I notice two men standing not far from me. Only one is facing me, but I recognize him in an instant. It's the traveler! He's talking to another man, tall and well-built with long dark hair. His back is to me and I can't help staring at his rear.

"Really, Sam?" I mutter. I'm supposed to be finding Daisuke, not checking out strange men.

At the sound of my voice, the traveler's companion turns and looks my way. Our eyes meet and my stomach does an odd flip. And then I'm too busy screeching with joy and launching myself at him to be embarrassed, because it's Daisuke.

I throw my arms around his neck and he squeezes me so hard I can't breathe. It doesn't matter. Everything about him feels different, but I don't care about that either. He wasn't this muscly before, and he smells wrong, too - I guess they don't have his aftershave in Cliffton. Still, it's him and I don't want to let go.

He breaks the embrace and steps away. I feel self-conscious in his presence for the first time I can remember. No wonder I didn't recognize him at first. When I left him here, he was thin and his hair was short and spiky. Now it's past his shoulders, he's tanned, and he's put on at least 20 pounds of muscle. This place has apparently been good for him - he looks great.

"Um, Daisuke? How long has it been since I left?"

* * * * *
I'm crouching behind some trees in front of a small house. In the distance, I can hear the rush of a river. Apart from Cliffton, this is the first world I've visited more than once. Until today, I didn't know why.

The man with the bright white hair is sitting on the front step, head in his hands. He calls himself the Straw Man, and I've been watching him for weeks. Most days, his step is light and carefree. Today, he looks like the world is on his shoulders.

I'm at his side before he looks up. He's really off his game today. I lay a hand on his shoulder and he jumps. He isn't used to people coming here. Gray eyes wide, he looks at me.

"You're... like me?" he says.

"Not exactly. But I'm sure as hell not normal."

He winces as if he's got a headache. "It doesn't work on you."

"It doesn't have to. I'm just here to talk. You look like you need a friend."

"I just..." He trails off, then tries again. "I don't feel right anymore. Ever since I touched his mind. The broken man." There's no distrust in his gaze. Though he's got to be at least a few years older than I am, his eyes are clear and childlike.

"I haven't felt right in ages," I say, sitting down next to him on the bricks, "You get used to it after a while."

* * * * *
The sun is setting and a late spring breeze is blowing. Daisuke and I are sitting in his backyard the way we have so many times before. It's not the same, though - nothing is anymore. He's barely here even though he's sitting right beside me. I'm pretty sure I know what he's going through but I don't know how to help.

"I think I made a new friend today," I say.

"Really?" he says. He's staring off into space, a million miles away. I don't know why I bother.

"Yeah, in one of my stories. Isn't that weird?" That gets his attention. His dark eyes flash with anger I wasn't expecting.

"Great, another reason for you to be gone all the time."

"It's not like you notice when I am here anyway," I point out.

"I always notice, Sam. I'm just not ready to talk, okay? How long did I wait for you to tell me about your power?"

"That's completely different. You wouldn't have believed me." I look away, and my voice is barely a whisper. "You didn't believe me, Daisuke."

"Am I supposed to apologize for that again?"

"No!" I practically yell. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go at all. "I just... I just want my best friend back, okay?"

Daisuke looks at the ground and says nothing. He hasn't cut his hair since he came home. It falls in front of his face now, a black curtain hiding his eyes. Just one more thing between us.

* * * * *
He calls himself the Straw Man, and we've become friends. Sometimes we sit by the river, and other times we feed ducks at the park. He doesn't talk much, but I don't mind.

It's raining as I knock on his door. He steps back and waves me inside. Something's different - a second overstuffed chair in the living room. He's made a place for me. It's a thing I haven't had in what feels like forever. The simple gesture brings tears to my eyes.

"You didn't have to do that," I say.

"I wanted you to feel welcome. It's been so long since I've had a friend."

Just like that, I'm crying. Friends are a touchy subject for me these days.

"Daisuke?" he asks. I nod.

"He won't talk to me anymore. It's like he's mad and I don't know why."

The Straw Man says nothing for a long time. The silence stretches out before us but it doesn't hurt. He doesn't have to say a word.

"If I could touch your mind, I could help you find an answer," he finally says.

"It's okay," I tell him. "Just talking is enough."

* * * * *
It's almost fall, and the evening is cool and breezy. Daisuke and I are sitting on lawn chairs behind his house like always. The air is clean and crisp. It would be a lovely night, if we weren't having the same tired conversation for the millionth time.

"You haven't been around much lately," he says. I sigh, knowing this isn't going anywhere good.

"Yeah, I've been traveling a lot."

"Traveling?" he snorts. "Is that what you're calling it now? Like it's your job?"

I don't have anything to say to that. It seems he's always angry at me these days.

He breaks the silence. "You're going to see him, aren't you?"

"Why, are you jealous?" I shoot back.

"I just don't get why you're always visiting some guy who barely even talks."

"Like you ever talk to me anymore either," I mumble under my breath.

"What?"

"What's the point in sticking around here anyway? You never talk to me. I hate it here."

"I'm here, Sam."

"Yeah," I can feel the bitterness creeping into my voice. "Only you're not anymore. Not really."

Daisuke doesn't respond. He studies his fingernails intently.

"Come on, Daisuke. How long are you going to punish me for... for whatever I did wrong?"

"You never even considered what I wanted, Sam." He's glaring at me, eyes hard just like the rest of him now. "It's always about you and your power."

"What are you talking about?" I'm genuinely shocked.

"When you came rushing in to 'save' me..." He looks away.

"What was I supposed to do - leave you there?"

"It's just..." His voice trails off and he won't look at me. "Maybe I was happy."

"You're not like me, Daisuke. You have a life here."

"I had a life here, but that was a year and a half ago. I had a best friend, but even before I left, I was losing her," he says quietly. "Why do you think I wanted to go with you so badly?"

"Daisuke, I'll always be your friend." I get up and wrap my arms around him. His body stiffens but I don't let go.

* * * * *
It's a stormy night, and I'm sitting in the Straw Man's living room. Raindrops beat against the roof; it's a soothing sound.

"Daisuke finally talked to me," I say. "But it only made things worse. I don't know what to do."

"Be his friend, Sam."

"I'm trying! He won't let me." For the millionth time, I dissolve into tears. I hate this.

He looks at me with a gentle smile. "Keep trying."

Suddenly, he flinches and goes pale. He looks like he's going to be sick.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

The Straw Man takes a deep breath, nods slowly and holds up one finger. Wait.

He watches me for a while, head cocked, listening to words I can't hear. Emotions flicker across his face, as if he's having an inner debate. It seems like hours before he finally speaks.

"He loves you too - he's just not ready to admit it. Give it time."

I'm standing in front of a gaping ravine. It's the same one I climbed down just before I saw Daisuke for the last time. For a moment I'm filled with relief - I've finally made it back. If I can just get back down there, I can bring him home. The descent will be much harder without the traveler to help me, but I'll manage.

As I reach for the coil of rope that's tied to my belt, I notice my hands.

Am I dreaming?

The world begins to dissolve around me; I scream in disappointment.

* * * * *
I open my eyes to sunlight filtering through the blinds. Rolling over, I pull the covers up to block it out. Then I remember, and I tear my hands free. Staring at them, I try to swallow the rising panic.

Not dreaming.

Ever hopeful, I glance at the clock. 8 am. I rub my eyes and look again. The glowing blue numerals are implacable. Still 8 am.

I'm sorry, Daisuke. I've failed you again.

Hot tears sting my eyes and I bury my face in my pillow. Ever since I left him in the story world, I've been trying to get back to that ravine. So far, my failures have been spectacular. Writing myself back into the story hasn't worked - with each botched attempt, I've lost a little more control. The last time was the worst. Even the memory makes me shudder.

I am floating in an immense blackness. Though my throat tenses with ripping screams, no sound reaches my ears. The air is thick and viscous; it fills my lungs and chokes away my voice. My body convulses in silent agony. I'm drowning again, like the swimming pool on the day I lost Daisuke. A calm steals over me and my muscles relax.

That's the last thing I remember. Since then, I've stopped writing. The injuries I've brought back from the story world seem real enough. What would happen if I died there? I want more than anything to save my best friend, but I can't do that if I'm dead.

Waves of dizziness wash over me as I sit up and get out of bed. I'm not sure when I ate last. Food isn't appealing, but it's a necessity if I want to keep going. I'm about to head for the kitchen when the flashing light on my cell phone catches my eye. Some days I forget to charge the damn thing. I don't get many calls since Daisuke's been gone. Today, though, there's a text message waiting. It's from Daisuke's friend Andrew.

Hey Sam, you seen Daisuke lately? He hasn't been returning my calls.

It's like I've been punched in the stomach. Breakfast forgotten, I crawl back under the covers and cry.

* * * * *
The vast blue sky stretches out before me. Below it is the ravine. I'm standing in front of it again, looking down into the tangle of stunted black trees. The climb will be treacherous, but I've done it before. I can do it again.

At least I finally made it back here. I can save Daisuke.

Then I remember. I look down at my hands.

Am I dreaming?

The scenery begins to swim and fade, but I catch myself.

Wait! Stay in the dream.

I rub my hands together, focus on palm meeting palm. The swirling grayness resolves once more into a landscape. The sky brightens to a too-deep blue and the dust swirls in my face. Once more, I'm staring into that damnable ravine.

I did it!

Triumph washes over me, and the color bleeds out of the world. Just like that, it shimmers and disappears.

* * * * *
By now it's automatic; my hands come up in front of my face.

In the dark, I focus on their outlines. Though I already know I've failed, I glance at the clock. 5 am. I look away and then back; the numbers taunt me. Still 5 am. Bitter disappointment creeps up into my throat like bile.

I always dream of the ravine now - ever since I stopped writing.

Stretching, I get out of bed and brew a pot of coffee. My hair hangs lank and greasy in my eyes, and I brush it away. I consider a shower, but decide it's pointless - I never see anyone these days anyway. Instead, I sit down at my computer. Opening my email, I see a message from a member of the dream forum I frequent.

Hey Sam,

I hear your frustration. You want to master lucid dreaming right now, but just remember it takes time. The fact that you're already remembering to look at your hands in the dream is a great sign! Doing those "reality checks" is the best way to tell if you're asleep or awake. Recognizing that you're dreaming is the beginning of lucidity. You've even managed to extend the dream state a bit by focusing on a physical action. Now you just have to keep at it!

Try not to be so hard on yourself. Pushing too hard will just hold you back. Remember, you've got the rest of your life to learn this!

- Dave

The words are meant to be encouraging, but they bring me to tears. Maybe Dave had the rest of his life, but I don't. I have to master these techniques now so I can adapt them for use in the story world. If I do that, I can save Daisuke - and if I can't, it's not worth doing anything else.

* * * * *
I'm standing at the edge of the ravine, just like a million times before. Behind it stretches that great expanse of too-blue sky. Without even thinking, I lift my hands and study them.

Dreaming again.

This time, I catch myself before the realization distracts me. I rub my hands together. Colors remain as brilliant as ever. The landscape does not blur or fade.

Yes!

Joy overtakes me; I'm finally getting the hang of this! A single moment of happiness is all it takes for me to lose my grip. The scenery fades away before I can stop it.

* * * * *
I wake to the quiet of my room once again. It is dim but not black; the sun must be coming up. My hands are in front of my face. I look at them and my heart sinks.

So close, but I failed again.

Choking back tears, I look at the clock. The blue digits flash a silent accusation. 6:13 am. Knowing there's no point, I close my eyes and re-open them. 6:07 am.

What?

I turn away and back again. The clock says 4:18 am now.

Still dreaming.

I'm rubbing my hands together, trying to stave off the rush of emotion. The scene changes. It's that damned ravine again, but I don't even have to check my hands this time to know I'm still in the dream. Taking deep breaths, I concentrate on staying calm.

Try something else now. If it's a dream, you can fly.

I don't give the fear a chance to take over. Instead, I back away from the chasm so I can get a running start. Then without another thought, I charge toward the ravine. When I reach the edge, I spread my arms and leap.

For a moment I'm falling. And then...

I'm airborne. There is no way to describe this feeling. Something is welling up inside me and I don't have words to explain what it is. I'm suffused with joy and light. The air is rushing past me and tears are streaming from my eyes. I've never felt so free.

I am in control.

Daisuke, I'm coming to find you.

The sky seems almost too big; it's the deepest blue I've ever seen, dotted with wisps of puffy clouds. I'm standing before a gaping ravine, its bottom obscured by gnarled black branches. On the opposite side of the chasm is a stand of trees - their leaves are a brilliant green.

I stretch and inhale deeply. The air is so clean and pure it stings my lungs.

Other than the canyon and the vivid colors, what I find the most striking is the silence. No birds wheel and call in the sky, and if there are people here, I don't see them. Not even the crash and bang of machines disturbs the quiet.

I'm trying to decide whether it's peaceful or creepy here when it finally hits me.

Daisuke was supposed to be here too.

* * * * *
Daisuke and I are stretched out on lawn chairs in his back yard. There's a nice breeze, and it's like old times - or it would be if he'd just stop nagging me. Ever since he found that matchbook in my pocket, he's been begging me to write him into one of my stories.

"Please, Sam?" he asks, his brown eyes plaintive.

"Daisuke, I already said no," I mutter, looking away.

"Come on, it'd be fun!"

"And by fun you mean incredibly dangerous?"

"You always seem to make it out okay." He's pouting now, as if that will change my mind.

"That's pretty funny, considering how often you have to come to my rescue."

"Well, if I were with you in the first place..." he says, his voice trailing off.

"I'd probably just drag you down with me," I sigh.

This power is a gift, but it's also torn my life apart. Though I wouldn't give it up for anything, I'm not about to let it hurt the one friend I have left.

"I'll be fine, Sam," he insists. "We'll look out for each other, just like we always do."

* * * * *
Though I call Daisuke's name until I'm hoarse, the only response is the hollow echo of my own voice. Suppressing the urge to panic, I sit down on the rocky ledge. Plumes of dust swirl up from the ground beneath me, pale against the too-blue sky. I hug my knees and contemplate what to do next.

Maybe he didn't make it here at all. There's no way for me to find out unless I go home too. Since I can't return from the story world at will, this possibility is out. Besides, what if he's here somewhere? I don't know what would happen if I left without him - the possibilities are enough to make me shudder.

Before I've come up with any answers, I hear rocks falling in the ravine below. I look down to see a person emerging from the knot of branches. For a moment, I'm filled with relief, but as the figure continues to inch upward I can see it's not Daisuke. Instead, it's an older man with dusty brown hair. He's climbing up a rope I didn't notice until now.

My palms are slick with nervous sweat as I watch the strange man's slow ascent. When he heaves himself over the lip of the canyon with a loud groan, I want to pepper him with questions. By the time I've waited for him to catch his breath, it's too late. He's cursing under his breath and muttering about "rude bastards" and "xenophobes".

"Excuse me?" I say.

Startled, the man straightens up and looks at me for the first time. "And who might you be?" he asks with an accent I can't place. Dressed in a long leather coat, gloves, and pants so covered in dust it's hard to determine their original color, he is studying me with great interest.

"I'm Sam," I tell him, offering my hand.

"Not from around here, are you?" he says, taking my hand slowly. He holds it limply, as if he's not sure what to do with it. "Lucky for you, I'm not like the people on the other side. A ruder bunch I've never met in my life!"

"The other side?" I ask. I'm not really interested, but maybe this man can help me find Daisuke.

"My whole life, I've wondered if there were people on the other side of the ravine," he says with a bitter laugh.

"I could hear their whispers the moment I walked into their godforsaken tavern. My hair, my clothes, my accent - hell, even the way I walked - were different, foreign. A deaf man could have heard them snickering behind their hands, but I ignored them until they began openly mocking me. When they started buzzing about the 'vulgar' way I drank from my straw, I'd had enough. I gave them what for and walked out."

"They don't sound very pleasant," I agree, doing my best to feign interest.

"Pleasant? Hell, I've seen warthogs with better manners," he snorts.

Nodding, I look at him with what I hope is a sympathetic gaze. Drawing a deep breath, I steel myself to ask the question before he rambles on for another ten minutes. Before I can say a word, though, he speaks again.

"You know, it's a damn shame I didn't warn that other traveler about them. He looked even more out of place than I."

* * * * *
"How's your research going?" Daisuke asks as we sit at a table in our favorite diner. Though my burger is cooked perfectly, it tastes like sand in my mouth. These days, everything in the real world seems muted somehow.

Since I know he'll never let up until I give in, I've begun testing the limits of my powers. The matchbook proved that I could bring items back from the story world, but I need to know if the reverse holds true. My first experiments were with paper clips and fruit, but now I've moved on to bigger and better things.

"It's looking pretty promising," I say, with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Really? Tell me more," he says, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

"I caught a tree frog in my parents' back yard," I tell him. "He's my first live test subject, and he passed with flying colors."

What I don't tell him is that my frog experiment was preceded by weeks of sleepless nights. Tossing and turning, I dreamed of tiny hopping creatures trapped between worlds. On one memorable night, every time I closed my eyes, visions of exploding frogs danced behind my lids. If the idea of hurting a frog scares me this much, how can I put my best friend at risk?

"So... is it time yet?" he asks breathlessly.

My heart sinks. If it were up to me, it would never be time. There are too many things that could go wrong - and if they do, I'll never forgive myself.

"I still think this is a really bad idea," I say, "but I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

* * * * *
My descent into the ravine is so slow it's painful. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. My arms tingle and ache with the effort of supporting my weight. The coarse rope tears at my ungloved hands and it's all I can do to keep my grip.

I'm grateful for the traveler's reassuring presence. He's climbing down a few feet ahead of me, ready to catch me if my hands should slip. I ask him why he'd want to go down into the ravine again when he's only just made it back up. He barks his bitter laugh.

"If the people on the other side didn't like me," he says. "I can only imagine what they'll think of your friend."

It feels like we're hanging off of that rock face for an eternity. Finally, we reach the tangled branches that conceal the bottom. They tear at my arms as I push my way through, but I barely notice. All I care about is finding Daisuke.

I'm worried about the climb up the other side, despite the traveler's assurances that it's "easy as a summer's breeze". When we get to the bottom, I see there was no need for concern. While the cliff I've just scaled is steep and perilous, the other side can barely call itself a hill.

My stomach is in knots as I charge up the slope. What if Daisuke isn't here? Worse yet, what if something horrible has happened to him?

As I crest the hill, I see him. He's standing a few yards away, shoulders slumped and hands jammed in his pockets. Though he looks dejected, he seems to be in one piece.

Maybe he had the common sense to stay away from the locals, I think.

"DAISUKE!" I screech, forgetting that my throat is still raw from the hour or so that I spent yelling for him earlier. Then I'm running toward him.

Our eyes meet and his face lights up. Any sign of worry disappears without a trace.

"Sam!" he calls out. "I told you everything would be okay!"

* * * * *
"Tonight's the night, Sam!" Daisuke is all but vibrating with anticipation.

I pace the floor of my parents' basement and wish I could share his excitement. These days, it's hard for me to feel enthusiastic about much of anything that goes on in the real world.

We've been planning this for weeks, but I'm still nervous. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be doing it at all. I try one last time to talk him out of it, knowing before I even begin that it's futile.

"You know I can't really control this, right?" I say for the millionth time. "When it's over, I have no idea where we'll end up."

"I know, Sam," he says patiently, "I've seen what happens after the story ends, remember?" This is true. Daisuke knows better than anyone the toll that these trips take on me.

"There's a chance it won't even work at all," I remind him.

"Your trial runs have been very promising," he says.

"There's a big difference between a frog and a person, Daisuke."

"I have faith in you," he says, grinning. "Relax, Sam. It's going to be fine."

I can tell by his smile that he knows he's already won.

* * * * *
I am surrounded by blue and there is no up or down.

For some reason, I'm holding my breath and my chest is starting to hurt. I exhale, try to suck in air, but there is none. Something thick and cool flows into my lungs, heavy as smoke but smoother as it burns its way in. Around me, bubbles rise.

My body is on fire. I'm sputtering and flailing and gasping for breaths that won't come. The world is spinning. I can't make any sense of it.

Water.

I force my body to go limp. After what feels like forever, my face breaks the surface. Sunlight pierces my eyes. I'm coughing so hard I think I might black out or throw up - it's almost impossible to keep my head above water. My eyes adjust and I see a concrete wall not far away. It's hard to move but I force myself to swim to it. When I finally reach the wall, I cling to the rough concrete like a lifeboat.

My arms are rubber. I can barely find the strength to pull myself out. Another fit of coughing overtakes me and I crumple to the ground. The pavement feels like warm sandpaper on my skin but I have no desire to move. After several minutes, I recover enough to look around. I'm back in the real world and it seems as dull as ever.

When I first began taking these trips, returning to the real world was confusing. It took minutes, sometimes hours, before I remembered where I'd been. The memories would come to me in flashes, fragments that didn't always fit together. Though the physical act of coming back is as painful as it's ever been, I remember everything now.

Every time I return, the "real world" feels a little less solid. It's as if the worlds I write are reality now and this other place is the imaginary one.

I hope this isn't reality, because Daisuke isn't here.