that this desire was accompanied by an unusually wearying feeling in the area of her lower back. Whether the sensation arose because of the bow or for some other reason, Matilda was suddenly aware that the feeling was giving her an inexplicable power over the gray breed.
They stopped dead in their tracks and stared at her in complete amazement. Matilda freed herself from their clutches and even managed to push some of them away. She knew intuitively that she must not run, so she froze in expectation of what might happen next. ‘Anything but run,’ thought the diva, who was ready for whatever might happen next, experiencing the same weary feeling in her back.
“Get away from me, you freaks!”
The freaks did in fact start to back off, making sounds of astonishment.
“Did she say the lette’?”
“Is she allowed?”
“Is she mana?”
“Does she have full?”
“She can say the lette’!”
The gray ones huddled together whispering occasionally casting glances at the diva who tried as best she could to assume a posture of pride and dignity. Then, they gathered round Matilda nonetheless keeping a wary distance. One of them took a step forward and asked, “Who are you?”
Matilda answered more calmly, realizing that the immediate threat had passed, at least for now.
“I’m a glamorous diva-a-a! And who are you, freaks?”
Then she stopped short, as if forgetting for a moment where she was, and all about the freaks, who she probably should not be insulting considering that they had almost boiled her alive. ‘Where am I?’ was the huge question that naturally followed. The freaks, meanwhile, paid no attention and began shouting again.
“The synthetic maid!”
“She can say the lette’!”
“Why are you calling me synthetic maid?” asked Matilda.
They silently exchanged glances. The question clearly confused them.
“We don’t know.”
“Ok, and who are you?”
“We glam’ocks!” The grays clamored and interrupted one another. “We ‘ead gibb’ish! We ain’t allowed to ‘ead the lette’!
It’s aboo! It’s aboo!”
“I see,” said Matilda. “You are glamrocks and you read gibberish.”
“Full! Full!” They shouted noisily. “She can say ou' name! She can!”
It would appear that the alien stranger’s ability to freely pronounce the letter ‘r’ and experience no terrible consequence as a result had made a huge impression on the savages. The grays discussed it amongst themselves again, after which, one of them stepped forward with a question.
“A you mana?”
“I’m Matilda, get it?” said the diva.
“Mana-tida! Mana-tida!” shouted the glamrocks. Matilda’s answer caused them to become terribly excited again.
“Why don’t you pronounce the letter?” she asked.
“We ain’t allowed! Not allowed! It’s aboo!” they shouted. “A c’ash will happen!”
“But I say the letter and I don’t have a crash.”
“You mana! Mana-tida!”
“You see! And you wanted to brew me and eat me. Do you know what would have happened if you had?” Matilda was beginning to live into the role assigned to her. “There would have been a total crash!”
On hearing these words, the wretches raised a howl clearly filled with reverential awe.
“Who taught you to read gibberish? And what do you need it for?”
“The Glamo'c taught us! Mana-glamo’c! Theah! Theah!” The grays began gesticulating in an animated fashion and pointing in the direction of the buildings.
“We have to ‘ead gibb’ish, so that we will be full.We must not say the lette’. We not allowed to fight. We not allowed to eat each othe’. It’s aboo! We have to ‘ead gibb’ish.”
“Right, but you are allowed to eat me?”
“Not ou’ own. You not one of us.”
“That’s not true. I am one of you!” said Matilda, thinking on her feet. In situations like this, you tend to think on your feet quite well. “I am your mana!”
Before the glamrocks had time to react, the same trumpet noise sounded from afar. The sound was evidently a kind of signal for them because the savages became alarmed and started shouting.
“Sac’ed hlevjun! We must take heo to sac’ed hlevjun!”
“What hlevjun is that?” Matilda asked.
“The glamo'c is there! Mana-glamo’c! We’ll show you! Let’s go!”
Matilda was gripped with anxiety. If this glamorc was their leader then he might well have his own ideas about who was or wasn’t the real mana. And then the process of cooking and subsequently eating the synthetic maid might be resumed with renewed appetite.
Matilda had no choice. She had not the slightest idea where she could run to. She had to go with them. So, the entire procession set off in the direction of the buildings.
The Dead Head
The glamrocks walked in silence encircling Matilda in a tight crowd but still keeping some distance from her. It was a strange sight. The gray figures with their wax faces and among them a blue blonde wearing a pink bow. It was a truly phantasmagorical procession consisting of a living doll surrounded by mannequins.
You would never say of Matilda that she was just a barbie doll. Some people are pretty, and others are beautiful. It is the difference between form and content. Matilda was one of those people who just have something about them.
But the main thing distinguishing her from the overall picture was not so much her colorful silhouette against the ‘black and white cinema’ background, so much as her life-force. Everything else including the gray figures was not so much dead as lifeless if one could put it that way. The other world probably looked much like this – not that different from our own – it was just different because it was ‘on the other side’. The question is, on the other side of what?
That question remains unanswered for now. Matilda was not concerned about the physics of such phenomena right in this moment. Her mind was filled with anxious thoughts about what would happen next. By virtue of some fated coincidence, she had ended up in a foreign world and it was not yet clear how she might escape. She could see nothing on which to pin any hope. What should she expect from her sinister companions? She dared not imagine.
The glamrocks’ faces expressed grim determination to find out for themselves something that could cost Matilda her life. Although the glamrocks were not touching Matilda, they looked
