It Wasn't Meant To Turn Out Like This

Mayza looked around as she heard McKenna rush into the kitchen. McKenna motioned frantically with her hand for Mayza to follow. The fairy frowned and dried her hands on a dish towel before following McKenna out into the living room. McKenna bounded up to the door, but before she could open it, it swung inward on its own. On the doorstep stood Brian with a suitcase at his feet and his guitar slung across his back. He looked exhausted and starved, his usually warm and quite alive brown eyes looking dead and worn, his cheekbones even more prominent now that his skin had stretched taut over them. He looked as though he’d fallen into Hell and fought his way back out again.

“Brian!” Mayza exclaimed, surprised to see him. He hadn’t kept in touch very well with the family during the band’s tour around the country, so none of them had known when he would arrive home. None of them had blamed him; they much rather preferred that the band saved money however possible so they wouldn’t starve. However, it looked as though their frugal ways hadn’t helped much in the food department. Brian looked like he’d lost at least ten or fifteen pounds.

“Fuck that,” Brian grumbled, leaning down to pick up his suitcase. He nearly fell over, and Mayza quickly stepped around, resting a hand on each of his shoulders and pushing him upright again.

“Why don’t you go upstairs,” she said, gently slipping the guitar case off of his shoulder and handing the guitar to McKenna, “and take yourself a warm—or cold—shower while I cook up a decent meal for you because you look like you haven’t eaten enough to keep lichen alive.”

“That sounds golden,” Brian agreed. “Careful with that guitar, McKenna. She’s the only one I got, and I’d hate for all that hard work for the past eighteen months to go to waste when you break my one guitar.”

“I’m not five!” McKenna protested as Mayza picked up Brian’s suitcase and ushered Brian into the house. “Where do you want me to put it?”

“In my room is fine,” Brian said. As McKenna headed up the staircase, Brian turned to Mayza. “Have you been keeping everyone in line?”

“Yep,” Mayza answered, carrying Brian’s suitcase towards the laundry room so she could wash all his clothes. “Senior acted up, had to lay down the law a few times with him,” Mayza put down the suitcase and smacked the back of her hand against her other palm, “but just a few backhands across the cheek put him back in line. I didn’t have any trouble other than that.”

“Good,” Brian replied with a grin that made him look similar to The Joker. If anything, it accentuated his gaunt face.

“You’re looking real bad, Brian,” Mayza said with a worried tone in her lilting voice. “Are you sure you’re fine? The tour looks like it was rough.”

“I’m fine,” Brian answered. “I just need a few good meals and some sleep, and I’ll be back to my old self in no time. The tour was tough, but we expected it to be so. We set up a good fan base, though, and we’ve put ourselves on the map. In no time we’ll be stars.”

“I’m glad you’re optimistic,” Mayza said. “Because right now, you look like a witch. No joke.”

Brian did a terrifyingly good imitation of the Wicked Witch of West’s famous high-pitched cackle. “I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!”

Mayza just looked at him like he was crazy. The allusion was lost on her.

“It’s from a movie,” Brian said, “called The Wizard of Oz. See, this girl lives in Kansas, but she gets caught in a tornado and ends up in Munchkin Land, where she meets Glenda the good witch, but she finds out her house landed on a wicked witch...”

Mayza looked even more confused. She was beginning to feel concern for Brian’s sanity.

“I guess it is an odd idea,” Brian continued, faltering slightly as he realized how crazy he must sound. “Don’t worry; we’ll watch it together some time. You’ll love it.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take that shower now?” Mayza asked, an odd look still on her face. “I’ll get your meal started...”

“It’s a good movie!” Brian insisted as they stepped out of the laundry room and Mayza headed towards the kitchen. “It’s a classic!”

“Shower, Brian, before I tear your clothes off myself and...Oh, that sounded bad,” Mayza said, popping her head out of the kitchen door and pointing towards the staircase. Brian laughed but turned and walked up the staircase as Mayza ordered.