This choice: Tell Patterson Chelsea's secret • Go Back...Chapter #33Interview With A Golem by: imaj   “They were pissed,” is the first thing you say to Patterson when you meet at his house the following afternoon. He looks at you with a perplexed expression. “Keith and Caleb,” you explain, his expression does not change. “Uh, Tilley and Johansson. They were pissed about losing the school basement.”
“Fuck ‘em,” grins Patterson, as he leads you out to the garage. “You’re on the fast track to senior member now Prescott. You don’t need to worry about them.” He makes his way to he back of the garage and pulls back a sheet to reveal a golem – your old one you assume. You groan at the thought of trying to move that massive slab, but Patterson just smiles and drops a mask onto it; an instant later Caleb Johansson materializes, and Patterson tosses some old clothes at it. "I love how mobile these things are," he grins. "Tell it to get dressed, then meet me out at the school."
"The fuck is going on?" the fake Caleb asks after he's gone.
"Never mind," you retort. You feel very queer talking to the thing, and can't meet its eyes. "You're a fake and you know it. Just shut up and come with me."
It's an eerie but uneventful drive. At the school you take off the old lock and put on a new one; when Patterson arrives a short time later you give him the extra key, and then the three of you descend into the basement. "Like old times, huh," Patterson joshes. “You still got the special mask I gave you for safe keeping?” You nod. “Take it out and have yourself some fun. This set up will be convenient for you, won't it? Don't let your schoolwork suffer because you're getting laid every afternoon." He winks at you and makes to leave.
“Wait,” you say. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Patterson stops in his tracks. He doesn’t look upset, but he doesn’t exactly look happy either.
“You fucked something up,” he growls.
“No,” you squeak. “The opposite.” You explain what happened after Patterson left the Fuck Room yesterday, describing your conversation with the golem Chelsea. Patterson looks uncharacteristically thoughtful throughout.
“Cunt,” he eventually says, as if pronouncing on something profound. He sits quietly for another minute before asking: “Let’s see this then, put the mask on the golem and let’s see this.” You pull the mask out your back, taking a moment to swap out the Caleb mask from the golem before replacing it with the Chelsea one. It glances and its surroundings but remains quiet. “Tell her to tell the truth when I ask her questions,” says Patterson.
“You heard him,” you address the golem. “Answer his questions truthfully.”
“I guess,” replies the fake Chelsea shiftily. “If that’s what you want.”
“Are you a dyke,” asks Patterson bluntly.
“Yes,” says the golem. It covers its mouth in shock, its eyes wide open “No, wait that’s not what I meant to say. I meant to say ‘yes’. Shit.” The golem panics, casting its gaze around wildly. “You,” it snarls, pointing a finger at you. “You were Maria! You promised!”
“Forget about what I promised,” you say quickly. Just as suddenly, the golem lowers its finger, a confused look on its face. “How did you know,” the golem asks Patterson.
“That’s not important” he grins with a sideways glance at you. “If you’re into girls, why are you with Gordon?”
“I need him,” it says before it realises what’s happening. The golem shuts its mouth and folds its arms firmly, determined to give away as little as possible.
“Be more helpful,” you admonish it.
“Because he’s the captain of the basketball team,” the golem elaborates. “And I’m the cheerleading team captain. He gives me more influence. More people will do what I want them to, and I can stop people taking my influence away from me.”
“Is that all,” you ask. “Answer me truthfully too.”
“He’s a good fuck,” says the golem distastefully. “I’m happy with him.” The golem sounds like it’s trying to convince itself more than either you or Patterson.
“You don’t love him,” ask Patterson, his face shading red.
“No,” scoffs the golem. “What’s that got to do with anything? He’s a big hairy stupid lunkhead. The only good thing about him is he does what he’s told.”
“You really think so,” asks Patterson angrily.
The golem tilts its head to one side and thinks. “Deep down. I don’t think I’d have admitted it, even to myself, if you hadn’t told me to tell the truth.”
“Take it off Prescott,” shouts Patterson. “Take the fucking thing off.”
“What,” both you and the golem ask in unison. Patterson simply glares. He looks like he’s ready to explode. You brush off the golems protests and remove the mask. It turns back to cold grey stone.
“That cunt,” mutters Patterson, kicking at some of the abandoned furniture left lying in the basement. “That bitch. I knew it. I knew…”
“Look,” you say nervously. “If you want me to come back later
“No,” replies Patterson. His murderous rage vanishes, only to be replaced with a chilly, almost unnatural, calm. “We let Gordon know,” he explains. “I always thought she was using him, but I never realised it was this bad.” He paces back and forth across the basement. “Then we destroy the cunt.”
“Um,” you being nervously. “The thing is… The thing is, the only proof we have is the mask.” Your hand shake nervously as you try to explain to Patterson. “Which we really shouldn’t have in the first place…” As you tail off, you realise your whole body is shaking.
“Fuck,” snarls Patterson. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He stops pacing. Instead, and you notice this very carefully, he starts pounding a closed fist into an open palm. “Can’t we make her admit it somehow?”
“I don’t think she realises it herself,” you muse. “That’s what the golem said. It only admitted it because it had to.”
“We could switch in the golem for her,” suggests Patterson.
“Gordon might check,” you reply. “If one of my friends started acting odd, the first thing I’d do now is try to pull his face off.” You refrain from pointing out that your newly acquired paranoia is a result of Patterson’s behaviour.
“Well what do you fucking suggest then,” thunders Patterson.
“Um…” you stutter. The threat of imminent violence isn’t exactly doing wonders for your thought process. “Maybe if another girl hit on her,” you manage to say, possibly the stupidest idea you’ve had since you bought the book in the first place.
“She’d just brush them off,” replies Patterson, his brow furrowing. “Unless…” You don’t like the sound of this. It was a stupid idea, but on reflection you realise that Patterson is just about stupid enough to think it’ll work. “Unless it was the right girl. Bah! If it’s someone else acting odd with Chelsea, Gordon will check them too.” He stops pounding his fist. “Don’t think we’ll get lucky enough that some lez transfer student shows up out of nowhere and takes a shine to the bitch,” he says morosely.
“Actually, we might,” the words escape your lips before you realise what you are saying – must be the nerves again. “Uh, forget I said anything,” you say quickly, cursing yourself for drawing further attention to your slip of the tongue.
“Spill it Prescott,” says Patterson, his eyes narrowing. “Before I make you spill it.”
Well, fuck. “Um… Well… We’ve just used the masks to make copies of people,” you explain, waving your hands about. “Then we put the sealant on them. But if we put the mask on two or three people before we seal it…” you tail off for a moment. “I never tried it, but I think if you wore it, you’d be a mix of the people.”
“That’s fucking brilliant,” shouts Patterson. “We hit two or three girls that Chelsea would find attractive: We get her fucking dream girl. Someone she can’t say no to.” Patterson smiles warmly at you. He looks like a shark eying its dinner. “Keep this up Prescott and I might actually start liking you.”
You are so fucked…
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