Day 31
The Qi Attack 

 /absurdist comedy/

 It was a long corridor – a room where anything could happen on the way to the object of your desires. It had a narrow entry, approximately 300 meters long that gradually decreased in size, then turned into a small tight tunnel. I waved to the sweet silhouette of Mrs. Vegas,  nervously waiting at the other end.

 I began the trip in her direction, carefully avoiding the open doors, the dark corners, and unwanted erotic encounters. The closer I got to the stairs, the more I could feel the power of Qi on my skin. When all the space around me was gone, and I found myself facing the legs of the bride – who was trembling with itchy burning on the steps of the golden staircase – only then did I allow myself to open my mind and give the green light to a continuous flow of energy in my lower body.
I drank her in; her swaying hips and lean legs, unaware of the ecstasy they caused just by existing on this planet. What would happen if I licked them? I thought.
“Nothing,” Mrs. Vegas said.
It seemed I asked the question (which circled in my brain the last couple of minutes) aloud.
“I thought you liked it when I did it last time, in Rsa,” I was offended by her remark.
“I did. But just because I liked it then doesn’t mean I like it every time, Bullet.”
After these words, without allowing me to comprehend them, she grabbed my hand and dragged me up the golden stairs. Everything happened so fast that I only came to my senses in front of the red door. 

 Her bedroom was full of people: some held thick advertising booklets in their hands, others spoke on the phones – sweat dripped from their faces. Ms. Asunción snored peacefully on the chair without a single sign of worry: her breakfast, lunch, and dinner were together in one place. How convenient! That idea made me cringe… 

 12 sheep and 42 fishes – the present from the future husband, Mr. Beard – were carefully brought in into the room from the hall. It turned out that Mr. Beard was convinced that such a gesture would bring much happiness and harmonize the energy on the wedding night.
“You have to find that damn Qi, Bullet. I don’t know how, but you have to find it; otherwise, that demon – Mr. Beard – will cancel the wedding, and I’ll lose my boy, who is currently in the clutches of a cruel mad ruler of Beluga Clan.” Mrs. Vegas cried. She told me (confidentially) how she followed her husband and Mr. Killing to Gunung Kinabalu and how her son – only because of his naïve curiosity – killed (again!) the sacred frog, the favorite animal of the local shaman.
I nodded and glanced at the bed. It was placed perfectly: in the “command position” and facing the entry door. In Feng Shui, the bed is one of the most private places in the home. We spend a great amount of time there, often in an unconscious state. My next stop was near the orange curtains. The Qi color of the season was Poppy Sunset – bright reds melting in the sky as summer makes its exit – the color was soothing to the nerves.
“What are you doing? Are you even listening?” Mrs. Vegas was irritated by my sluggish movements.
“Shhh, I’m absorbing the Qi of your bedroom.” 

 I noticed that people had left the room, and we were alone in the middle of it. At that moment, a shadow behind the window caught my attention. After a couple of weeks of uncertainty, dealing with crimes and lustful women, I couldn’t make out who it was, but it had the shape of a square and was wearing what looked like a lamp on its head. Confused, I stopped and slowly reached for the vase on the nearest nightstand. The silhouette appeared before I could strike.
“Do you have a friend over?” I asked Mrs. Vegas as carefully as possible.
“Ah, that… just Auntie Cactus. She came over to help with the Qi.”
“I love decorating, Mister. I think this room needs more prickly plants.” The strange woman from behind the curtain grunted, then cleared her throat and continued, “I’m still not sure about the bed, but I think if I could try it out for an hour or so…”
“Please, without me!” I squealed, but it didn’t help. 

xxx

 After the longest hour of my life, I sat up, feeling the bed still wobbling beneath me. The door opened, and the head of the curious Mrs. Vegas appeared in the doorway.
“What’s the matter, dear Auntie Cactus? You look so downcast!” The future wife of Mr. Beard exclaimed.
“A friend of mine died this morning…” The tears appeared and then dried instantly on Auntie’s face.
“Oh, no. Who?”
“His name was Ale de Sandwich, known to the world as The First Assistant.” Auntie Cactus explained.
“You poor, poor thing. Do you know what I think? I think you need a little bit more time with Mr. Harmless.” Mrs. Vegas winked. Her positivity, empathy, and desire to help were contagious. “What do you say, Bullet? One more time?” 

 “Maybe. Maybe…” I muttered, looking at the exquisite porcelain figure of the hippopotamus in the far corner. I tried to estimate the weight of this figurine by the eye – how heavy it was.
“Ah, that would be a wonderful Qi service. Almost like Sunday shopping.” Cackled Auntie Cactus.
“Good luck, you two. Don’t scare the Qi away!” Mrs. Vegas laughed and closed the door.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Auntie Cactus stepped over to the bed, spread her legs, and jumped on my back.
“Brighten up my Qi, Bullet!” She commanded.
I had to take a few breaths before answering, “At first, I have to detoxify the surrounding area and maybe even get rid of some poisonous elements inside my aura.”
“Do it, boy, now! Or I’ll tell Mr. Beard that you are the reason the Qi is gone from Gunung Kinabalu!” the words suffocated her. Suddenly, Auntie fell to her side and started to choke.
Her message startled me but also awoke some guilt. After all, I was here as a doctor; I was supposed to help – to find the Qi in the room. With difficulty, I turned Auntie Cactus on her back and began analyzing her purple wrinkles. With sadness in my heart, I realized that she was still alive.
“May I touch it?” She opened her eyes and placed her hand on my silent spindle.
“Yes.”

One hour – one minute – one second.
The ceiling.
The Qi sat beside me on the bed,
listening to my anxious breathing. 

“Thank God it is over, it is over… The Qi is here!” I whispered.
“I’m still feeling a bit under the weather,” Auntie Cactus mumbled. “Would you mind repeating?”
Almost automatically, I wiped off the sweat, picked up my bitter but brave spindle covered in lavender-tinted hair, and began a new dance on a glossy bed. I guess my body demanded that I partake of this demonic feast laid out before me. 

xxx

After the third row, I felt exhausted. I heard how Auntie Cactus got up, slid her steel-dry feet into slippers, cleaned out the nightstand table, then pushed the panel behind the window to the right, stepped into the darkness, and jogged down the invisible stairs.
Why are you still here, Bullet? Run. Run. Run. My mind spoke to me.
“No. I can’t go without finding Qi!” I said aloud. The emptiness sighed back. On the blue screen above the bed appeared young and blonde Ms. Break de Roof, with a familiar box: № 9 in her hands. 

 “What do you want? What is there?” I shouted; the blood freezing in my tired spindle.
“Bacteriophages. Mr. Fuzzy Pie told me to leave it for you today with a message: ‘Find Tamara GRRR or Alexander Raphael; they know what to do with it.’” Said the young woman with smooth olive skin and provocative grey eyes.
“Anything else?” I hissed; I hated my life at that moment.
“Mm… it was kind of impressive. I mean you and Auntie Cactus. It was her birthday today – 45 years old.“ Ms. Break de Rood paused.
“45? No way! She looked like she had arrived from the Kingdom of the dead, the sunless place, the Underworld… Is she sick with LKED?”
“No, stupid man… She wasn’t wearing makeup, that’s all.” The Second Assistant explained with displeasure in her voice. “By the way, in the end, I didn’t get what is ‘The Qi Attack.’ You shouted it pretty often during the last thirty minutes.”
“That’s not your business!”
“We have an excellent clinic in…”
“Piss off, Miss de Roof!”
“Just wanted to help, Mr. Harmless.”
The screen went blue again. I sat, hugged my knees, and started to weep. 

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