《Better than Ben's Story》 Introduction Six chicken thighs, two cups of steaming rice, a cup of beans, and a copious amount of hot sauce were all sitting in a bowl. A half hour later, the bowl was clean and placed to dry, a nearby radio crackled on, and a large man settled by a workbench. Three chainsaw chains were removed from a canvas workbag. Benjamin, the man, carefully sharpened the edge of each cutting link. His work done, he bathed and settled down on his bed, which composed of a mattress resting on two wooden pallets. The next day, Ben was walking a rough trail through an evergreen forest. Eventually, he and his companions reached an area where a couple hundred tall uniform pines were marked with orange ¡®x¡¯s. They set to work. The next Friday, Benjamin was waiting outside an office. He could hear a conversation held within turn interesting. ¡°That northeast ridge scheduled for next week could be a problem.¡± ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°I walked it just today on my break. It felt¡­ different. I have a gut feeling that we should cut somewhere else. Anywhere else.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it? I looked at the pictures. The trees are in good shape. We¡¯ll get a good chunk of change for them. What is there that I don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°...nothing, boss, forget I said anything. See you next week.¡± Benjamin saw his coworker leave the office. ¡°Steven. We still on for later?¡± ¡°Sorry, Ben, change of plans. Something came up.¡± ¡°No worries.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make it up to you. See you Monday.¡± ¡°Bye.¡± Ben walked into the office. ¡°Ben! I¡¯ve got your paycheck right here¡­ Seems you¡¯ve kept your streak going! Keep up the good work.¡± ¡°Thanks, boss. See you next week.¡± That night, Ben drank alone. The next morning, Steven knocked and entered into Ben¡¯s house with a large bag. ¡°Steven?¡± ¡°Hate to bother you, Ben, but it¡¯s urgent. I need to borrow your truck.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not busy. I¡¯ll come with. You sound worried. Is this related to why you were busy last night?¡± ¡°You could say that. I¡¯ll explain on the way.¡± Steven drove them to and down a highway. ¡°It¡¯s this¡­ it¡¯s difficult to explain. See, yesterday I was looking at the plans for next week and felt like scouting out the timber. I found something. There¡¯s a piece in the bag. Don¡¯t look inside, I think it might be dangerous.¡± Ben glanced nervously at the bag. ¡°We¡¯re headed to the university. There¡¯s a famous mycologist that teaches there. She¡¯s our best bet at identifying it.¡± If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Mycolo¨C Steve, you¡¯re saying there¡¯s a mushroom in your bag?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not normal. Ben¨C promise you¡¯ll keep this secret for now. When I approached it, it felt strange. In my head. At first I thought it was a psychedelic experience¨C poisonous spores? But then after last night¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯d better explain. Stop beating around the bush.¡± ¡°I had a vision, alright? Ugh¡­ I know how it sounds, but it gets worse. I saw¡­ death. I saw things dying. Birds, insects, critters of all kinds in the forest, in different places and in different times. But I saw one human, too. A man, in the night, murdered by his wife in the big house on Curved Street. I thought I was poisoned, going to die. But it got better. The visions subsided, and I ran. So after work, I was freaked and just wanted to go home, that¡¯s why I bailed on you, but on the walk home I saw a dead squirrel. A squirrel I remembered from the visions, killed by a car. ¡°I figured it was D¨¦j¨¤ vu, one of those weird psychological things, but there was enough uncertainty in my mind that I decided to take a detour to Curved Street. And as I¡¯m thinking I¡¯m crazy, I sneak up through the woods to that isolated big house, and what do I hear? The wife¡¯s clearly drunk, screaming about some betrayal of some sort. I see her in the window, and she picks up this big kitchen knife. And it¡¯s just like the vision. So I freak out, I run and bang through the unlocked door. And the husband and wife jump, start screaming at me, asking who I was. So I ran. ¡°I have no idea how they are, now. But that was when I started thinking that I wasn¡¯t just poisoned. I figured that massive mushroom had to mean something crazy. Like, prophetic crazy. I went back for it, and I broke off a piece and stuffed it in my duffel. The thing is huge, bigger by far than any mushroom I¡¯ve ever seen. I¡¯ve been afraid to breathe too deeply next to it or the piece I took.¡± ¡°Steven, I¡¯m not going to call you crazy, because you¡¯re one of the sanest guys I know, but mind-altering chemicals can do some strange things to a man¡¯s mind. I once saw a homeless man charge headfirst into someone¡¯s car, full speed. Bloodied the poor bastard right up. It¡¯s a good idea to visit that mycologist. If it¡¯s really dangerous, someone¡¯s got to have studied it, and if there are longer-term consequences, there¡¯s got to be a cure of some sort.¡± ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± (maybe add in a sentence about how they are continued driving in silence? The two of them found directions to the mycology department from a passerby, and from there, found the professor¡¯s office from the secretary at the front desk. ¡°Yes, Professor Erin Briggen is on the fourth floor. You¡¯ll see the sign.¡± Ben pressed the elevator button, "We should have just gone to the hospital. What are we going to say to her?¡± ¡°Just let me talk. She¡¯s a professor. She¡¯s got to be curious about a mushroom this big. And if I went to the hospital, my visions would go on record. I still think they might¡­ Nevermind.¡± The elevator brought them to the fourth floor. Dr. Briggen¡¯s door was open. Inside, they could see several curtained shelves, a desk covered with unorganized papers, and a whiteboard with lots of biological diagrams. Steven leaned through the door, looking for the professor. ¡°Looking for me? You don¡¯t look like students. And if you were students, I¡¯d remember you. You¡¯re huge.¡± They turned around to look at the source of the feminine voice. A short woman with brown hair in a lab coat looked at them inquisitively. ¡°So?¡± she said, ¡°can I help you?¡± ¡°We¡¯re, uh, looking to have a mushroom identified. We figured it was rare, due to the size. Any chance you can¡­¡± ¡°Take a look? I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s in the bag. Let me see?¡± Steven held the bag a little closer, ¡°Wait. We have reason to believe the spores are toxic. When I found it, I¡­ saw things.¡± ¡°Saw things? Like, non-existent things? You must be joking. There aren¡¯t hallucinogenic spores. Aspergillus and Stachybotrys spores are toxic, but they give you pneumonia, not an acid trip. What did you see?¡± ¡°Can you just¡­ take a look at the mushroom and tell us what it is?¡± Steven held the bag open. Dr. Briggen glanced inside and visibly twitched throughout her whole body. ¡°That¡ª ah, hahaha, this is a prank, isn¡¯t it? This is for the joke on that pathetic bacteriologist. I mean, ha ha, very creative, showing me that. Fae¡¯s Folly is obviously not real. Get out, job done, you got me for a second, I admit.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am, this isn¡¯t a joke,¡± Steven said. ¡°I came across this near a ravine in a pine forest. I had a vision of death. That came true.¡± Dr. Erin Briggen just looked at them, lips pursed, head tilted slightly to the side. ¡°You know what? I won¡¯t fall for this obviously tall tale, but I am a scientist. I¡¯ll take a spore sample. If it grows in my lab, I¡¯ll hear you out. Now give me your contact information and get out.¡±