Sci-Fi Fantasy: Ozzy's first osteopathy session

The first osteopathy session

‘Nice having a man about the house. Is it?’ Kevin asked.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ replied Eve, pinkly.

‘Very fragile things, backbones. Vulnerable,’ said Ozzy, flexing his fingers and cracking his knuckles.

Kevin took the hint and clambered onto the row of tables, making sure that only the weight of his feet rested on the flimsy picnic table. Eve seemed rather impressed by Ozzy’s show of protectiveness as she left her shed to recommence manicuring her house.
‘He made Kevin stop asking awkward, embarrassing questions!’ she murmured.
Ozzy tentatively massaged the muscles either side of Kevin’s backbone and wondered that such an enormous back could be vulnerable to merely banding over. As Ozzy got into his stride, Kevin relaxed into a more reflective state of mind.
‘I like being treated normally for a change,’ he began. ‘I’m so big that people are always careful what they say around me. There isn’t a trace of violence in me really. I mean, the arm wrestling is only a bit of fun.’
‘Yes, Kevin,’ said Ozzy. ‘What do you mean by ‘normally’?’
‘When most people don’t even come up to your shoulders, they seem to feel intimidated.’
‘Yes. I can imagine that.’
‘I do tell people what I’m really like but no one seems convinced,’ continued Kevin, as he slowly sank into the improvised table.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well. For instance, I’ve got dozens of videos of ballet, but no one believes that. Not that ballet is wimpish anyway. The average ballerina is stronger than the average man. They just use their strength in different ways.’
‘Ha! Everyone knows that’s not true. You just mention ballet to wind people up. More challenges at arm wrestling!’
‘No. It’s true. I really do like ballet. I join in with the videos, sometimes.’
‘You won’t catch me like that, Kev. Ballet my foot!’
‘Oh I give up,’ said Kev. Not for the first time. He thought of all the hours he’d spent digging out the foundations of his front room so he could lower the floor by eighteen inches. ‘So I can practice my ballet’, he’d explained to all and sundry. ‘I wonder what he’s really doing?’ all and sundry had duly replied.
Ozzy stood back, the better to peer along Kevin’s back. It was definitely not straight and there seemed to be muscle tension around the kink, but there was so much muscle it was difficult to work out where the backbone would be. Down there somewhere. Ozzy massaged the tension out of the muscle, Kevin sighed, mumbled something about ‘sundry’, and fell asleep. Ozzy poked about, wondering what to do.
‘Hmmm, Ballet my foot ... Vouz avez balletez votre footey,’ he mumbled.
‘What?’ said Kevin, coming around with a start.
‘The kink’s definitely just here,’ explained Ozzy, his thumbs buried in Kevin’s back. ‘How do I put it right? It’s a bit different to a model skellington ... Ils sont balletons le hoof ... er ... A lot bigger for a start.’
Ozzy persevered with relaxing massage and very soon Kevin was fast asleep. Ozzy imagined opening a well designed safe, ear to the door, right hand teasing the dial, not breathing. There was a click.
‘Bleeding hell!’ thundered Kevin. ‘Where am I?’
Twenty yards away Eve put her hands over her ears, unfortunately they were covered in soap suds.
‘Could you stop thrashing about? The thingy’s going to collapse,’ Ozzy pleaded.
‘What thingy?’
‘What Eve said. It’s not the picnic table and your knees are on it.’
‘Ironing board?’
‘Yes. That’s it.’
‘I must have dropped off.’
‘No. You’re still on the table. You’ve been asleep.’
‘That’s what I just said.’
‘Ah. Does it still hurt?’
‘I don’t believe it does,’ murmured Kevin, running the back of one hand along his spine.
‘Better be a bit gentle getting up,’ Ozzy advised. ‘That picnic table looks a bit rickety.’
He stood up, gingerly, taking great care not to tip over or bend the picnic table, and put his head through the roof of the shed. ‘Woops!’ he said.
Ozzy got the giggles.
‘I’ll call in and mend the roof,’ said Kevin, sheepishly. ‘Soon’, he added.
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘How much do you ask?’ inquired Kevin, stepping carefully out of the shed and hefting his wallet.
‘I ask Eve things, quite often,’ said Ozzy, trying to recall his school lessons on sentence construction.
‘I mean, how much are you asking me?’
Deja Vu happened. ‘Ah! All donations gratefully received!’
Kevin gave Ozzy some money and went to find Eve to apologise for damaging her shed.
‘Blimey!’ said Ozzy, looking at the money.
Eve had noticed Kevin step out of her shed, then give some money to Ozzy. As Ozzy received the money he looked surprised, then stood up straight and actually stood still for a change. His expression changed and for once he came over all ‘responsible’, very nearly adult. Eve looked smug and genuinely pleased for him. An image of a spider’s web crossed her mind, but she shrugged it off.

Number 9 realised their next meeting was due in a few minutes and it had somehow been side-tracked from its study of Margaret Moore. Margaret was definitely one of its favourites, but it didn’t entirely understand how this had happened.
‘I’ll have a quick peep before our meeting,’ it decided.

Other characters from the novel: