Dendrome

By Matti Charlton

A secret compound hidden in Utah.

A federal agent suffers a mental health stigma.

A drug score at a kid's birthday party.

A news anchorwoman shopping for paint.

A school teacher transforms into a walking tree.

A score of uns

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matti Charlton
• Release date: Mar 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781778900402

Matti Charlton

Matti Charlton is writer, designer and recording artist. They live in Toronto, Canada with their service dog, Quentin.Matti is autistic, queer and transgender and writes passionately about social issues and modern technology; most recently, with their book "Homelessness broke ChatGPT" casting a critical eye on the bias of the popular AI software. Matti has also written several children's books and young adult novels.Matti is an advocate for trans issues, mental health and poverty, especially homelessness and addiction.Matti's career has spanned a wide range of disciplines, from software development and art direction to fashion design, music production and writing. In 2023, they published their 12th album of electronic pop music, "Almost", and their first fiction novel "Dendrome".Matti created the first transgender-owned underwear company in the world, Retromatti Athletics, in 2014, manufacturing the entire line from their apartment in downtown Toronto. The company expanded to provide digital artwork to craft makers during COVID-19.Matti's website: https://matticharlton.com/On Facebook: https://facebook.com/matticharltonOn Instagram: https://instagram.com/retromattiMatti's books: https://books.matticharlton.com/Matti's music: https://spotify.matticharlton.com/Matti's online business: https://retromatti.com/

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dendrome

matti charlton

copyright ©2022-2023 matti charlton.

draft originally written sunday the 18th day

of december in the common year of 2022.

written from the city of toronto,

in the country of canada, on planet earth.

all of the content of this book – text and artwork (words and images) are copyright ©2022-2023 matti charlton

(matthew john charlton).

all rights reserved.

words

photos 11

wendall 21

topiary 41

reverent 51

taxi 61

aptitude 71

broadcast 79

seagull 85

paint 93

meal 97

larissa 103

bully 115

shed 125

seen 129

exam 137

fable 143

dendrome 149

daniel 155

pictures

benji 10

acorns 20

teachers 40

children 50

floorboards 60

welcome 70

golem 78

inside 84

great teacher 92

trees 96

watching 102

tin box 114

blinds 124

wendall 128

penultimate 136

evidence 166

dedication:

with the entirety of my beating heart, this story is dedicated:

to the memory of all of my friends who have passed. you are loved and will be remembered; and

against the inhuman criminal enterprise that is the war on drugs, for taking the lives of these friends, many of whom were mere children at the time of their passing

just like a vegan diet, we must as one race embrace the simple truth that there is only one civilized choice here to end the unnecessary death and suffering at our hands.

i hope before i am done on this earth that we do. enough death arrives naturally on our doorstep. we need not bring more home.

matti charlton

One should let one's nails grow for a fortnight. O, how sweet it is to drag brutally from his bed a child with no hair on his upper lip and with wide open eyes, make as if to touch his forehead gently with one's hand and run one's fingers through his beautiful hair. Then suddenly, when he is least expecting it, to dig one's long nails into his soft breast, making sure, though, that one does not kill him; for if he died, one would not later be able to contemplate his agonies. Then one drinks his blood as one licks his wounds; and during this time, which ought to last for eternity, the child weeps."

― Comte de Lautréamont, Maldoror and Poems

benji

photos

It was a rough and grumbly voice, full of gravel and rolling along like a heavy sack dragged across a dirt road.

Say CHEESE!

Sam hesitated.

I don’t want my picture taken, Miss Andrews, he said.

His blue eyes darted nervously from his teacher’s face to the wooden door behind and to the right of her, behind from which Sam had heard the granular voice.

He anxiously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Miss Andrews pressed her red lips into a thin line of displeasure. Sam turned his eyes again towards the door behind her.

The door was open a crack, maybe an inch at most.

Sam stopped to look, and he could see his classmate there – her name was Dorothy – sitting in the director’s chair, with the dark gray backdrop behind her.

Sam saw Dorothy smile.

Then he heard the flashbulb pop after the brief splash of light startled him. He blinked to adjust his vision.

Oh no, he thought. Not again.

The director’s chair - where Dorothy had sat just a moment before. It was empty. Beads of sweat began to form on the boy’s forehead, and he looked at his teacher as she bent down to encourage him.

Samuel. His full name. He was in trouble now. Everyone in class gets their photos taken on class photo day. And everyone includes you.

Sam cleared his throat. But I don’t feel too good. He gestured to his stomach and nervously shifted his feet. A voice behind him in the queue made him turn his head, distracting him from his plea to escape.

Uh, like, Miss Andrews? A taller boy with longer brown hair stood there. He was portly in shape. Daniel. Another classmate.

Yes, Daniel? Sam’s teacher stood back up.

Should I, like, go, or should I wait for Sammy to be friggin’ ready?

"Language! Sam can take his time, you go ahead. She gestured to the rest of the class waiting patiently in line against the wall beside Daniel. Don’t wait. Just go ahead, Sam can go once you’re all done."

The silence, which had split the casual chatter of the classroom full of students into silence when Sam began protesting a moment ago, finally resumed its low-level din. Students talked amongst themselves in line. Hushed, whispered tones - not unlike the rustling of leaves.

Sam watched as Daniel opened the door to the photo room, and heard the gravel voice again, coming from where he couldn’t see the speaker.

Arrre yoooouuu reeeeaaddy Dannnnieeel

Daniel sauntered over to the director chair and plopped down. A withered hand reached from inside the room and casually swung the door almost closed, but it slowed and creaked slightly more open than before.

Yeah, Dude. Let’s go. Daniel made a nonplussed face towards where Sam supposed the camera to be.

SAYYYY CHEEESE.

The gravelly voice again. Sam saw the edge of the round flash swing into view. Daniel was its target - a classmate that Sam was often fixated on. (Once while talking ceaselessly about yet another thing Daniel had done to annoy him, Meredith in their class had cut Sam’s complaining short with a genuine toothy smile and had whispered you two should just kiss each other already, Sam. Enough of this stalling.)

Daniel did annoy him. But maybe after that night outside, I do want to kiss him. I certainly don’t want to see him taken. Sam swallowed hard. I still wish he’d go away sometimes. But not like this. Not Daniel…

Sam felt his heartbeat rise in his chest as he looked at the other boy in the director chair. Daniel quickly had whipped his hand upwards into a peace sign, his index and middle fingers spread apart and pointed upwards into a V shape. The nonplussed expression on Daniel’s face was replaced by what Sam’s father would have called a shit-eating grin (though, Sam would never describe it that way around adults, lest he be punished for cursing. He would have probably used the other description his father had used for a similar smile: the smile of a salesman.)

Sam’s thoughts sped through his mind rapidly

But wait.

The smile of a salesman has dead eyes.

And Daniel’s eyes weren’t dead.

They were arrogant.

Sam looked more closely, as the gravelly words SAY CHEESE rattled around in his ears a few times.

He looked at Daniel’s eyes more closely, and in that instant he saw the terror.

The horror.

The dead outcome.

Daniel’s eyes were as wide as they could be, and the brown of the other boy’s eyes were almost invisible as the black center of his eyes had swallowed them up.

Sam blinked, and felt powerless to stop what was coming next.

Noooooo...

But the flash broke his stare into blinding light, followed immediately by the pop of the flashbulb. And the chair was once again empty.

In Sam’s mind he could still see Daniel’s smile hanging there above it, bodiless, with the terrified eyes of his classmate suspended above them, eyeballs without a skull, floating in space above a disembodied smile that had no face.

* * *

But it was just his imagination. The chair was simply empty. The gravelly voice grunted.

Sam felt himself get instantly pale when he noticed from this sound that the golem on the other side of the door was approaching the nearly-closed doorway.

Is it coming for me now? Sam felt compelled to wonder. He was fairly certain he didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Had he not been completely roped into this situation, he would have run to the water closet in the barracks or the one near the kitchen if he was on food chores. But here he was completely surrounded by the golem on one side, and Miss Andrews behind him tapping her foot at both him and Wendall impatiently.

A short and wide figure in rumpled clothing swayed into view that Sam could see through the crack of the door. The figure emitted a chuckle that sounded more like a rumble of an engine than a human voice. The figure was