Read Online Fungus of the Heart by Jeremy C. Shipp - Free Book Online Page A

paw. “It doesn’t count as stealing if you eat the person first. Then the person’s part of you, and you can’t steal from yourself.”
    “Killing humans is even worse than stealing from them.”
    “I was hungry.”
    “That’s not a good enough reason to murder somebody.”
    “So with a good enough reason, I’d be able to justify to you the killing of one of your kind?”
    “Of course not. And maybe that proves what you’re doing is wrong.”
    “Wrong for you, Boy. Not for me.”
    “How can you be so cruel?”
    Holly sighs. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m incapable of cruelty, because I don’t empathize with my prey when I’m hunting them.”
    “You’re a monster.”
    “Monsters don’t have hearts. But me, I love my food. Just not the way you want me to.”
    “You shouldn’t hurt the ones you love.”
    “Can’t we agree to disagree?”
    “No.” I grab the doorknob. “Thanks for the present, cat.”
    “Wait, you—”
    I close the door.
    And by the light of my tiny sun, I draw you a smiley face and a prominent pair of ears.
    Finally, you’re real enough for a name. And while I’ve never met a Salvador, you definitely look like one.
    “Can you hear me, Sal?”
    My muscles ache with hope and the power of my birthday wish.
    But you only grin in silence, a best friend waiting to happen.
    Maybe next year.
    *
    Holly never visits after my sun burns out, so the scraping must be caused by some horrible fiend come to rape and pillage.
    I imagine my body ripped in two, and I know I should embrace my fear.
    But this fiend could be my father.
    So I open the door.
    “Holly,” I say. Disappointed. Relieved.
    “Hello, Boy.” The Death Cat taps my chin with the top of her head.
    “What are you doing here so late?”
    Holly sits. “It’s your birthday.”
    “Didn’t we already have this conversation?” I try to sound sarcastic, but in truth, I’m not sure of the answer. My memories can be a little temperamental.
    “Today’s supposed to be special for you,” the cat says. “You deserve more than a permanent marker.”
    “I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful earlier. I really do like the gift.”
    “Whether you like the marker or not isn’t the point. You deserve more. You need more. More than I could ever give you.”
    “If you can’t help me, then what are you doing here?”
    “I didn’t say I was useless. I can still affect your choices.”
    “But you always say you don’t like to involve yourself with the way other creatures live their lives.”
    “That’s true. But you’re not living. Not really.”
    I check my pulse, just to make sure. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “No, you don’t know what I’m talking about. There’s a difference.”
    “Then what are you talking about?”
    “You need to get out of the cabinet.”
    I laugh, for the first time in ages. “But I’m the Boy in the Cabinet. If I leave here, I’ll cease to exist.”
    “Or you’ll change.”
    “That’s even worse.”
    “Transmogrification can be a good thing.”
    “Tell that to my father.”
    The Death Cat touches my leg with her paw. “I understand your reservations, and I can’t promise you that you’ll live happily ever after in the world outside. But I can assure you that there’s nothing worse than a wasted heart.”
    “I’m not wasting anything.” And I hold you in front of the cat’s face.
    “That’s a Styrofoam cup.”
    “For now.”
    Holly sighs. “You can’t create life on your own, Boy.”
    “What do you know about life? You’re just a stupid Death Cat.”
    “Death isn’t separate from life.”
    I almost laugh again, but the swell of sorrow in my throat prevents me. “If that’s true, then where’s my mother? Why isn’t she here?”
    “No matter what I say, you’re not going to believe the truth about death until you die. So we might as well drop the subject and move on.”
    “Fine. But you should know, you’re not going to talk me into