Brain Food Read Online Free PDF Page B

pretending to get comfortable. “About what?”
     
    “You know what,” Alejandro became agitated. Stan didn’t like it. “It’s that-that abomination Señor Gomez gave to you. You have it, right? Tell me you still have it.”
     
    “I may, and I may not,” Stan was getting bored with the conversation. “That’s none of your concern.”
     
    “But it is my concern. I told you where to find it. Now you are perpetuating the curse. You are making it stronger, and you don’t even know it. You have no idea what you’ve gotten into.”
     
    “I know it’s gotten me this,” he waved his arm at the panoramic view of Manhattan.
     
    “That’s what you think,” Alejandro shook his head. “This is all an illusion to make you satisfied while it eats at your soul. Can’t you feel it? Every time you eat a little, it takes a little from you. Tell me you still have some of it left. Tell me you haven’t eaten it all!”
     
    “I…I have a little.”
     
    “Good! Do not eat any more. Keep some of it left, and don’t eat it all. If you do, he will return, and he will take his payment from you!”
     
    “That’s your angle, isn’t it, Alejandro?” Stan saw right through the charade. He stood and hurried to an electronics panel near the front door. “You’ve come to extort money out of me? You want to claim some kind of rights over my ideas or something? Well bring it on, buddy!” he pressed the intercom. “SECURITY!”
     
    He opened the front door and two men the size of pro wrestlers dragged Alejandro forcibly from the suite, but not before the bartender from Baja shouted another warning:
     
    “I’m begging you, Señor Cox! Do not eat it all! Do not eat it all!”
     

 
     
    11.
     
     
     
     
    Squeak. Rattle. Squeak. Click!
     
    The weathered box felt rickety, yet at the same time solid, and opening it was tricky. He had to press a hidden latch under the top edge to release the brass locking mechanism. Three layers of silken tissues concealed the dwindled contents within. He unraveled the tissues and searched for the remaining bit, now only the size of a marble. As he held it, a wave of anxious energy bubbled to the surface. He wanted so badly to take a little slice. Just a little. But no. He resisted, scared shitless by what Alejandro had said. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was. So he wrapped the brain food up again, stuffed it in the box, and slammed the lid closed. He’d go cold turkey, and tonight he’d write using his own creativity.
     
    However, no matter how hard he tried, and no matter how hard he tried not to try, the words never came. The goddam cursor mocked him again. It soon became obvious the cursor was being smug, confident he wouldn’t be able to defeat it. That’s where it was mistaken.
     
    “You think you got me beat, don’t you?” he screamed at his computer screen. “You think you’ve won because I can’t eat any more of that stuff, don’t you? Well you’re fucking wrong!”
     
    He ran to the bedroom and tore into the box, digging through the fancy packing to the precious nugget deep inside. He was careful to crumble off only a little corner, ensuring there was at least something remaining.
     
    The bitter taste became instantly overwhelmed by his soaring consciousness. One second he was devoid of a single idea, the next they came at him so fast he had a hard time containing them. The work became like breathing after that. He breezed through chapter after chapter, writing the first draft of the new novel in just under six hours. Then he started rewriting. He’d gotten to chapter twelve in that process when he heard a knock at the door.
     
    “Go away!” he kept typing. “I don’t want anything!”
     
    Knock! Knock! Knock!
     
    “I don’t want anything right now! Leave me alone and let me work, Goddamit!”
     
    Knock! Knock! Knock!
     
    He stepped to the front entryway with caution, then looked through the peephole. Nothing. He turned to get back to work