Try it, you’ll be amazed – I promise.”
“Okay, I’ll read it, once - but then I have got to go,” Gerard said, laughing weakly. “My wife is going to have the cops out looking for me if I’m even one minute late for dinner tonight,”, he said, hoping it sounded remotely plausible - especially if this nut job had any more weird ideas in store for him.
Gerard spoke the strange words aloud, sounding them out phonetically as he read.
“Mah-zoe Mah-zoe toso nimi so, tumay noso oolaya ma-yi, Noso olaya anona ya na-mi…”
He paused. The man’s expression had changed from irritation to pure anticipation. His eyes were eager, pupils dilated.
“Go on, go on,” he urged, “the good part’s coming.”
Gerard continued.
“Tumay noso oolaya ma-yi, Mah-zoe Mah-zoe toso nimi so,” he finished.
“Yes! Yes!” the man growled, and his voice became surly and strange as he spoke.
He grabbed Gerard by the face before he could react, pulling him forward until their noses touched, snatching the paper away, crumpling it in his fist. The fragile parchment disintegrated almost instantly, its remnants drifting like brown snowflakes to the floor.
The man’s pupils began to flash open and shut, like a camera aperture, snapping photos one after the other, and his breath blew hard against Gerard’s lips. It was hot, too hot, almost scalding, like steam blowing from a kettle. Gerard tried to pull away, but the man’s hand was like a vice clamped over his jaw.
Gerard felt steamy breath entering his mouth, crawling over his tongue like it was alive, sliding down the back of his throat. Then he felt it somewhere deep inside him, moving.
The man’s pupils stopped flashing. He released Gerard, stumbling backwards, as though he had been punched in the stomach by an invisible fist.
Gerard’s heart pounded, making a hot angry noise as it beat louder than ever before. The pulsing throb of the muscle in his chest sounded like muffled words being spoken inside him, words that repeated over and over.
Maazo Maazo , Maazo Maazo , it said.
“I’m sorry,” the man mumbled, his voice little more than a whisper as he gasped for breath. “I had no choice. He made me do it.”
Gerard could barely hear the man over the sound of his own pulse thumping in his ears.
“What did you do?” Gerard asked, frantic. “Who are you?”
“ Free ,” the man said simply, then turned and ran from the store. The little bell rang overhead as the door slammed behind him. Within seconds, he had disappeared into the descending gloom of the rainy evening.
The owner of the store finally poked his head out of the back office after hearing the scuffle, but wasn’t able to identify the deranged man, telling Gerard that he had only spoken to the man once before, a few days ago.
Gerard drove straight home, wheels splashing through puddles on tree lined streets. He was shaken but otherwise unharmed, and eager to get back to the safety and comfort of his family and home. He knew it would be a while before he would have the courage to visit the bookstore again.
As he drove, his throbbing heart eased back into its regular rhythm, the words “ Maazo Maazo ” still reverberating loudly inside him. It was like having a second heartbeat – not in his chest, but in his mind. The hum of it in his head was both energizing and comforting. It felt as though something had been missing from his life until today, and now he was whole.
“Maazo Maazo,” he said out loud, and as he spoke the words, a powerful feeling of energy surged through him. A new sense of determination to finish his book, to complete what he had started, took root in his gut. That feeling continued to blossom as he turned the car into his driveway.
Maazo Maazo, Maazo Maazo , the rhythm whispered.
He would finish his book, and it was going to change the world.
Gerard turned the key to his front door and stepped into the foyer.
He was greeted only by darkness and silence, which was
“Okay, I’ll read it, once - but then I have got to go,” Gerard said, laughing weakly. “My wife is going to have the cops out looking for me if I’m even one minute late for dinner tonight,”, he said, hoping it sounded remotely plausible - especially if this nut job had any more weird ideas in store for him.
Gerard spoke the strange words aloud, sounding them out phonetically as he read.
“Mah-zoe Mah-zoe toso nimi so, tumay noso oolaya ma-yi, Noso olaya anona ya na-mi…”
He paused. The man’s expression had changed from irritation to pure anticipation. His eyes were eager, pupils dilated.
“Go on, go on,” he urged, “the good part’s coming.”
Gerard continued.
“Tumay noso oolaya ma-yi, Mah-zoe Mah-zoe toso nimi so,” he finished.
“Yes! Yes!” the man growled, and his voice became surly and strange as he spoke.
He grabbed Gerard by the face before he could react, pulling him forward until their noses touched, snatching the paper away, crumpling it in his fist. The fragile parchment disintegrated almost instantly, its remnants drifting like brown snowflakes to the floor.
The man’s pupils began to flash open and shut, like a camera aperture, snapping photos one after the other, and his breath blew hard against Gerard’s lips. It was hot, too hot, almost scalding, like steam blowing from a kettle. Gerard tried to pull away, but the man’s hand was like a vice clamped over his jaw.
Gerard felt steamy breath entering his mouth, crawling over his tongue like it was alive, sliding down the back of his throat. Then he felt it somewhere deep inside him, moving.
The man’s pupils stopped flashing. He released Gerard, stumbling backwards, as though he had been punched in the stomach by an invisible fist.
Gerard’s heart pounded, making a hot angry noise as it beat louder than ever before. The pulsing throb of the muscle in his chest sounded like muffled words being spoken inside him, words that repeated over and over.
Maazo Maazo , Maazo Maazo , it said.
“I’m sorry,” the man mumbled, his voice little more than a whisper as he gasped for breath. “I had no choice. He made me do it.”
Gerard could barely hear the man over the sound of his own pulse thumping in his ears.
“What did you do?” Gerard asked, frantic. “Who are you?”
“ Free ,” the man said simply, then turned and ran from the store. The little bell rang overhead as the door slammed behind him. Within seconds, he had disappeared into the descending gloom of the rainy evening.
The owner of the store finally poked his head out of the back office after hearing the scuffle, but wasn’t able to identify the deranged man, telling Gerard that he had only spoken to the man once before, a few days ago.
Gerard drove straight home, wheels splashing through puddles on tree lined streets. He was shaken but otherwise unharmed, and eager to get back to the safety and comfort of his family and home. He knew it would be a while before he would have the courage to visit the bookstore again.
As he drove, his throbbing heart eased back into its regular rhythm, the words “ Maazo Maazo ” still reverberating loudly inside him. It was like having a second heartbeat – not in his chest, but in his mind. The hum of it in his head was both energizing and comforting. It felt as though something had been missing from his life until today, and now he was whole.
“Maazo Maazo,” he said out loud, and as he spoke the words, a powerful feeling of energy surged through him. A new sense of determination to finish his book, to complete what he had started, took root in his gut. That feeling continued to blossom as he turned the car into his driveway.
Maazo Maazo, Maazo Maazo , the rhythm whispered.
He would finish his book, and it was going to change the world.
Gerard turned the key to his front door and stepped into the foyer.
He was greeted only by darkness and silence, which was
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