It was a very beautiful day; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there was just a hint of a breeze. William could certainly enjoy a nice day, though at the moment he would much rather be in his safe place. But there was nothing for it but to keep on going if he wanted to get back home.
Eventually he came to a fork in the road. Remembering what the tree had said, he veered to the left. It wasn't long before he came to another fork, and again he went left. A few minutes later he came to a T intersection, and once again turned to the left. It felt as if he had gone in a complete circle, yet he had not come across any familiar ground. At the next fork, he took out his pocket knife and carved an arrow in a nearby tree to show that he had been here, just in case he really was going in circles.
As it was, about every fifty feet or so the path forked or branched or turned, but William stayed true, going left every time. But then at one intersection he heard something coming from the path to the right. He swore that he heard the sound of voices harmonizing a do-wap rhythm. He stopped for a minute to listen;
"We skipped the light fandango;
"Did cartwheels 'cross the floor.
"I was feeling kinda seasick;
"But the crowd called out for more."
"Huh," William wondered aloud, "why would anyone be singing A Lighter Shade of Pale in the middle of a forest?"
"The room was humming louder;
As the ceiling flew away.
"When we called out for another drink,
"The waiter brought a tray."
William argued with himself. Part of him knew that he was supposed to keep to the left. But another part of him really wanted to follow the haunting music coming from the other way.
In the end, he compromised with himself. Making a mark on a tree so that he would know which direction he was supposed to go, he turned right, telling himself that he would just go a few yards to see if he could find the source of the music before turning around and going back the way he should have gone.
It wasn't too far down the right path that William came across a large patch of mushrooms. Each of the mushrooms had a face, and all of them were singing in harmony;
"And so it was that later,
"As the miller told the tale,
"That her face, at first just ghostly,
"Turned a whiter shade of pale."
Then the mushrooms began vocalizing the background music of the song, all in perfect harmony.
"Hey dere," one of the mushrooms near to him said in a distinctly Jamaican accent, "come sing wit us, man."
"She said there is no reason,
"And the truth is plain to see.
"But I wandered through my playing cards,
"And would not let he be.
"Come on, man," another shroom taunted, "just lie down and sing."
"Yeah man. You're safe here wit us," another said.
Suddenly William was very tired, and wanted nothing more than to sit down. So he did, leaning back against a tree. Surely it wouldn't hurt to rest here for just a few minutes. Right?
"One of sixteen vestal virgins,
"Who were leaving for the coast,
"And although mu eyes were open,
"They might as well have just been closed."
He found himself singing along with the mushrooms;
"And so it was that later, as the miller told his tale, that her face at first just ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale."
Before he realized it, he had fallen over on his side and was lying amongst the Jamaican mushrooms, still singing along with their mesmerizing song.
"She said, 'I'm home on shore leave,'
"Though in truth we were at sea.
"So I took her by the looking glass,
"And forced her to agree."
The touch of a hand on his shoulder brought him suddenly out of the reverie of singing. "How long have I been lying here?" he wondered out loud,
"Well I saw you here an hour ago," a voice said behind him and nearly made him jump out of his skin. "When I came back by and you were still lying there, I thought you might need some help."
As he began to turn around he said, "Yes, thank you. I - Jesus Christ!" he finished in a scream, seeing what it was that had roused him from his reverie. He scooted back away from the thing, smashing many of the mushrooms in the process. "Hey!" and "Ouch!" and "Watch it, man!" came from them, along with a great many muffled curses.
Crouched there in the field of mushrooms was a great bog fat lizard man thing, complete with horns on its head and a forked tongue that kept flicking out and back in to its mouth. It was covered in scales, had a long tail, and vertical slitted black and gold eyes.
"Sorry, man," the lizard-thing said, "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Uh... that's alright," William said uncertainly, responding to the thing's courteous attitude.
'Demon' is a word that he might have put to the thing in front of him, except that there was a distinct lack of flames or smoke, or the smell of Sulphur.
"Hi," it said brightly, "my name is Nathaniel, What's yours?"
"Uh, m-my n-name is William," he finally got out through his fearful stammering.
"Well you shouldn't fall asleep in the mushrooms, William," Nathaniel scolded him, "you might never wake up again! I thought everybody knew that."
Tired of being scared of this thing already, William asked simply, "Are you going to eat me?"
"Eat you?" It laughed from it's bulbous belly, "why would I want to eat you?"
"I don't know. Isn't that what monsters do?"
"You think I'm a monster? Gee, thanks! Wait 'til my friends hear that!"
"You want to be a monster?"
"Well sure. I always get picked on 'cause I'm too small or too weak, or not good enough in sports." His eyes looked so sad that William wanted to reassure him. "But being a monster? That's what it's all about!"
"Well I'll tell anybody who asks that you're a real monster."
