Bob Schmingus and The King of the Rats: Part 1

(Readers, please recall that Bob Schmingus is a top cat agent who has recently saved America from a humilating loss at the hands of the Chinese King Liu Wei, who wished to purchase MacDonalds and rename it MacWangs.)

Bob Schmingus had just returned from his recent successful adventure, convincing the King of China, who had recently desired the purchase and renaming of the iconic American restaurant chain MacDonald’s to MacWangs, and was enjoying his reward of 20 boxes of Fancy Feast. He was lounging on a beach in the Carribean, at this moment, shades on, feet up, and licking his paws clean, when his phone rang.

It wasn’t his usual ringtone, Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love by Van Halen. No, it wasn’t that, but it was a familiar ring: The Star Spangled Banner. And that could only mean one thing.

The President Of The United States was calling.

Bob Schmingus sighed. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted right now — he wanted waves and sun. That’s why he came to the Carribean, duh. But when the Prez calls…

He took the call.

“Talk to me, Jim Bob,” said Bob.

“Schmingus, I told you not to call me that. My names Carl. At least call me Carl, if you won’t follow the proper formalities.”

Schmingus chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. He loved messing with the President.

“Alright, Carl Bob. What do you need? Surely can’t be more trouble with the King of China? After we just had such a pleasant time together?”

“Ugh…” Groaned the President.

“It is.”

“Come on. What a guy! Isn’t he ever satisfied?”

“He’s a wily one. We can’t keep heads of tails of him. And we’re in for a long time with this guy… I hate to think about it.”

“So what’s the deal? I’m not exactly his babysitter here. That’s for the Chinese ambassador.”

“I know, Schmingus… I know. But… you know how to work him.”

Schmingus smiled. It was true.

“He respects you,” continued the President.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Birds of feather. So what’s his deal now? What geopolitical problem are we solving today? Wait, don’t tell me. He wants to buy Burger King and rename it to Burger Kang?”

“You know Schmingus, I understand why you two get along. You must have the same brain. That’s exactly what he’s trying to do.”

“You’re kidding me.”

The President sighed.

“I wish I was, Schmingus… I wish I was.”

Bob stared out at the lolling waves through his black Raybans, but he hardly saw them anymore. His mind was on the mission.

His mind was on China.

“He’s offered 100 trillion dollars for it. They’re thinking of selling. We could block them, but, the legalities, the politics… We need it done quick. You know what’s at stake—the geopolitical blowback, we could lose the culture war—”

“I get it, Pres. It would be a national tragedy, the loss of an American gem, yada yada. What’s the pay?”

“Same as usual.”

“I want Friskies, sardine and anchovy this time.”

“You keep Burger King American and you’ll have whatever flavor of Friskies your little paws could possibly desire.”

“I want Greenies too. Ten boxes.”

“Dammit Schmingus, you glutton! Don’t you ever tired of your hedonic binges? Don’t you ever want something more fulfilling? For a mind so brilliant, you live like a heathen!”

“I like this lifestyle. It suits me.”

The President was silent for a moment.

“There’s something else, Schmingus.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like that.”

“We’re teaming you up for this one.”

Schmingus bolted up, knocking the half-eaten tin of Friskies off of his lap and into the sand.

“Teaming? There is no teaming. I don’t do teams. You know that.”

“This time you do. The situation is getting dicey in the East. You need backup.”

“Like Hell I do!!”

“Dammit Schmingus, I’m not your damned butler! I give you the orders, and you aren’t going alone, dammit, and that’s that!”

Schmingus took a deep breath. The President was really testing him on this one.

“Just tell me who it is, Pres. And it better not be a woman. I’m not looking for any romance—”

“It’s your old pal, Schmingus. It’s your old Navy buddy.”

“No.”

“No one can fly a chopper like him Schmingus. He’s just what we need for the job—”

“NO!”

Schmingus was enraged, and without thinking he slammed his phone shut and hung up.

Immediately, he had regrets. He just hung up on the President of the United States. Not exactly recommended procedure. But…

The President was out of his mind. To suggest that he, Bob Schmingus, international ace, detective, dealmaker, assassin and schmoozer? Go to China with his greatest nemesis and archrival?

Schmingus had kicked his fallen can of Friskies and had thrown himself back on his chair, stewing with rage, when his phone buzzed.

“Pickup point Gorganzola. 11pm.”

— Carl Bob

Bob Schmingus wasn’t sure if he would go. But in the end, he wasn’t one to walk away from a trip to see the King. No he wasn’t. China was one of his favorite countries to work with. Something about the Orient that appealed to him. And he wasn’t going to give it up just because of that damned bastard Boldchungus… the grin that must be on his face right now.

Boldchungus probably hated the assignment as much as Schmingus did. He didn’t play with partners either. How did the President get him on board? Must have offered him a lot of Friskies. Greenies, Churu treats too…

They had that in common, at least. They were both greedy, thrill-seeking bastards.

Schmingus packed his essential gear, a lockpick and his trusty Barret .50 cal, and headed to the pickup point.

Someone was there to meet him.

Standing by the chopper, a model 450x SteathKite, with quad-lazer rotors and a radio-drive cloaking device (a top of the line stealth chopper, undetectable by all modern equipment known to man—or at least, America), and looking as smug as a bug in a rug, was Charlie Boldchungus.

That smug asshole.

“Well, well, well… Little Kitty’s gonna get his paws wet again, huh?”

“Save it, jackoff,” growled Schmingus, throwing his Barrett in the SteathKite’s storage hold. “I’ll rip that loose tongue right out of your mouth. What the hell does that even mean, anyway?”

“It means whatever I want it to mean,” Boldchungus retorted. “Tell me, how did the old man get you on board? What flavor of Friskies was it this time? Sauteed Salmon? Pink Antarctic Krill?”

Schmingus rounded on him in a flash, claws unsheathing.

“At least I don’t work for some god damned Fancy Feast. Pathetic.” Bob spit on the ground.

“You can’t buy taste.”

Boldchungus looked on with his iconic, smarmy grin spread across his face.

“Oh, and you’ve got it, do you?”

Charlie’s eyes screamed disdain. He hated being with Schmingus as much as Schmingus did being with him.

“Listen to me,” said Boldchungus, glaring at his arch-rival. “We don’t have to do play this stupid game. You get me in, you get me out. We both get paid. We don’t have to say as much as kum-ba-yah to each other.”

Boldchungus laughed, and climbed up into the cockpit. “Whatever you say, captain. Me, I’ve decided. I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I’ll enjoy it when I’ve got my Friskies,” muttered Bob, hopping up in the co-pilot seat. “And not a minute before then.”

Bob and Charlie went way back, if you can’t tell.

They were two of the hottest hotshots known to catkind. Two of the top feline agents in the entire world.

Six billion cats on Earth, and only a handful could do what these two could do. Part of an elite ring of feline actors, they were employed by governments and private businesses and wealthy individuals worldwide to carry out their respective desires. If the price was high enough, chances are you could find a cat to do it. Some stayed loyal to their countries — others only called a place where they could hoard their Friskies or Fancy Feast home.

Bob Schmingus and Charlie Boldchungus were both American cats, so to speak, and they had stayed loyal—for the most part. Boldchungus was known to run a mission or two for the French. Schmingus got the occasional call from the Japanese Prime Minister, the King of Danes, and Moldovan High Crown.

And, there is some speculation that he might have worked for the current King of China, King Wei. That might be why he had such close ties with the King. But, currently, it’s only speculation…

As far as Boldchungus goes, he was a top-flier. Boldchungus lacked the charisma, the geopolitical brain, intellect and charm of Bob Schmingus—that’s mainly why he despised him. But, of course, there was Lucina—better not to dig that up, not just yet. But what Charlie Boldchungus lacked in brains, he more than made up for in grit and sheer damn luck.

Charlie could find his way out of a truck in a deep muck, blindfolded. He had saved one the world’s top energy executive from an assassination attempt by shooting the assassin’s bullets out of the air. He had managed to find his way home after being buried alive in a Mongolian bunker twenty-three thousand miles deep (he was the only survivor). And in one of his most legendary feats ever, he was said to have flown his helicopter through another helicopter.

No one even knows how that could be possible, really. But he did it.

Why did Schmingus hate Boldchungus then, aside from the fact that he was an insufferable idiot?

It all goes back to the Iran incident…

But that’s for another time.

Jay and Bill

So I am fully obsessed with gardening. It’s not really an obsession — it’s a new hobby. But boy is it a strong one.

This morning, I would out doing my daily surveying, pulling the rhizome grass sprouts, examining the new sprouts and the general condition of things, and then watering. I have a bunch of new sprouts, Cosmos sprouts. Those seeds laid dormant for weeks, probably three weeks at least, before suddenly shooting up overnight, as tall as three or four inches tall. They came out of NOWHERE. And now they are booming, going to work. Two days ago they appeared out of nowhere. Now today, they’re already duplicating the leaves, and there are twice as many that have popped up. It’s a totally different method of sprouting than nearly everything else that has popped up in the garden, which come up quite meekly, with just two little baby green leaves, and develop slowly.

The marigold sprouts came up quick, as fast as the Zinneas. Within only three or four days, they were sprouting. They’ve stayed low to the ground, but the seedlings have rapidly developed in complexity. I like looking at them just because they have an interesting shape. They are a little crowded by Zinneas and I hope they don’t get consumed, but they are at least on the edge of the Zinnea patch.

My Butterfly Milkweed might be sprouting, but it would be early for them, according to the internet. I’m getting some sprouts in that patch. It’s probably something else.

I’m on a spree of meeting neighbors. This morning, Jay called over to me from across the street. “What are you raising?” He said. That’s all it took. I walked over to him and we talked gardening. He said he was interested in raising some native wildflowers, that his girlfriend had been growing herbs in pots. He had a little dog named Bill, a cute dog. When we walked over to the patch, so I could point some things out to him, Bill trampled the dirt area with my Butterfly Milkweed. I almost said something as I watched him walk all over the dirt, but I held back. They probably weren’t sprouting anyway.

Jay said he’d been watching my garden and saw that things were starting to pop up now. My gardening is starting to draw some attention, now that things are actually growing. It was pretty ugly when it was just a giant patch of dirt. It still mostly is a giant patch of dirt. We’re playing a long game, here. (Although, not even that long. It’s crazy how quickly some of these things grow, like the Zinneas.) I just wonder if I’m going to get any blooms this Fall, or if the plants will decide that it’s too close to the end of the season and that there aren’t any pollinators left… if there aren’t any left. But we’ll see. Maybe there will be?

The first frost for Nashville is approximately October 15. That will be a big date. What will happen with the first frost? Will things die? Will they die before that? Will I have any flowers? And then, what will happen to the perennials? Will they have grown enough to come back next year?

The Zinneas are annuals, I looked up this morning. That’s not a big deal. If everything died and I had to replant everything next season, it wouldn’t be a big deal. The planting is easy. But, apparently the plants take time to flourish, some of them not blooming until years later. I don’t think any of mine take that long for their first blooms—possibly the Butterfly Milkweed. I guess this is to say that it would be better if I didn’t have to replant the perennials, and the plants survived and kept going next year. I really don’t know what will happen.

It’s all an experiment. A very interesting experiment.

I’ve thought about what can go in the backyard. I’m intimidated by the backyard. It’s mostly shaded, with dappled sunlight. The ground is not moist, at least not right now, but it can be. Clover is growing well back there, the grass is not growing THAT vigorously. The front yard has been completely different, compared to the back.

It seems that the backyard, being mostly fully shaded, mimics a forested, woodland habitat. So whatever grows back there will be whatever does well in a forest, I think. One difference is that I feel like it’s cooler in the woods, and the backyard still gets hot. That probably won’t matter THAT much to these plants. The other thing they talk about is soil acidity, and I have no idea about that. I would like to know.

I want to plant buttonbush, really badly. I have a vision for a buttonbush in a space in the corner. It would be a perfect barrier between yards, and would fit the space perfectly. The thing is that they say buttonbush likes moist, wet conditions. That corner is not dry (except now in a drought), but I don’t know if it would be moist or wet enough. I would have to water it, and even then I wonder how well it would do. That could be another experiment.

I want to cover the fences with vines, like passionflower and coral honeysuckle. I wonder how to get those started. I talked with a lady at the nursery/gardening center. I asked about planting, if there were seeds, she wasn’t sure about the coral honeysuckle. Then I asked about passionflower, and she said, “Hold on a minute.” She went through a secret door in the back, and she came out a minute later holding two large green spheres, like perfectly spherical limes. She said, “”We have a passionflower plant growing wildly just outside. Here.” And she gave me those seed pods.

I felt like I acquired a special and rare item in a video game. Like a bonus quest. Ask the gardener at Bates about growing passionflower and you can score two free seed pods.

After the deer attack, I sometimes have a fear that I’m going to wake up one morning and find my entire garden decimated. It’s vulnerable out there, unfenced, by a busy street. But so far, no tragedies except for the horrendous deer attack. And the sunflower that was chomped by the deer and lived, it is still the most vigorous one I have. It’s doing great. It handled that assault without skipping a beat.

The Master Gardeners

Yesterday I went to an event held at the Looby Public Library, for fall vegetable gardening. Just to see what’s going on. Currently, I’ve only planted flowers, and carrots. That’s it. Veggies is a whole new world for me.

I went out to a local iconic gardening store and bought more seeds. I’ve been going crazy. So far, I’ve now planted Cosmos, Zinneas, Butterfly Milkweed, Jerusalem Gold Sunflowers, Smooth Blue Aster, Purple Coneflower, Shasta Daisies, Marigolds, Black-eyed Susans, and carrots. And I still have some Goldenrod to plant, more Purple Coneflower, Wild Bergamot…

The watering is starting to be a lot of work. It takes 30+ minutes to do all this watering, and it’s still probably not enough. I fill up the watering can by hand, at our sink. The spigot is on our neighbor’s side of the house (we live in a duplex) and I’m too lazy to text him and ask if he minds me using the hose.

The hard part is not the planting, it’s the tearing up the grass. Most of the grass in our front yard is some extremely tenacious, rhizomous beast-grass. The roots are nebulous and deep. The sprouts are constantly still popping up, even when I think I’ve completely, thoroughly dug out all the roots, removed all traces of the grass.

This grass is quite entrenched in the lawn. And digging it up is hard work. I would even call it backbreaking. I can’t even imagine working on a railroad line, doing whatever those guys did all day. If it’s anything on the level of digging up this grass with a shovel, I couldn’t do it. And it’s compounded 10x in the hot sun.

Basically, you can’t do it in the sun. You’ll die. Or, you just suffer immensely. You have to get up early enough to get some digging time in, or late at night. I’ve done some digging at 10, 11pm at night, long after the sun has gone down. It’s blissful. It’s amazing to be able to do that work without the intense blaze of heat.

As I dig up more and more of this yard, I realize—I’ve bit off quite a bit. I don’t even want to dig anymore, really. But I want to have a large flower garden. And I have to get these seeds down, because the clock is ticking, the winter approaches—and I bought them.

Tonight I’ll have to do more digging.

When you’re doing hard work, it’s amazing how it feels like you’ve done so much more than you’ve actually done. It can be the same with writing. When you’re putting so much into every line, when you’re really crafting each line — it feels like you’re doing so much work, and then you come back and review how much you’ve written, and it’s nothing. Three pages. You worked so hard for those three pages.

The digging is the same. Two mornings ago I dug for a solid two hours straight, from 6:30 to 9:00 am. I took a short break. Backbreaking labor, slow and difficult. It felt like I had dug up ten acres of land. And then, when I stepped back to see how much I’d done, and how much farther I had to go, I was shocked. Depressed. Only about 12 square feet of earth had been cleared. Maybe 15.

Yesterday morning I met Melissa and Taz. She was taking her dog for a little stroll around the neighborhood. I know this dog; he’s one of the most familiar sights in the neighborhood. He barks at me almost nonstop whenever I’m out in the yard. Melissa and Taz live in the apartments across the street. Taz is cute—he’s a small dog, a terrier or something. Grey and white, long fur. And he likes to yap. He loves to yap.

To be honest, like most dogs yapping, it’s really annoying. Taz’s yapping. All the dogs in the neighborhood like to bark, and they’re all annoying. Sometimes lately I’ve wished that dogs were just banned in the city. Sometimes, when they’re really barking up a storm, I just wish that there weren’t dogs around anymore. Not in the city. God damn, it’s so annoying.

But… they are cute. And the yapping isn’t that bad. Mostly, I can ignore it, or I can put up with it. If it is that bad, then you have to tell them. Hey, can you please shut your god damn dog up? Thanks.

You never want to have to do that, of course.

I finally met Taz, who I had been thinking, if he just knew me, he would stop barking at me. I don’t think that’s likely to happen, now that we’ve met. He was still barking at me, as I squatted down to let him sniff me. I did not get a pet in. Melissa said it was his way of saying hi. What a pleasant way of saying hi.

She was holding a lit cigarette and drinking coffee out of a styrofoam cup. That’s the way to wake up, right there.

She asked what I was up to with the garden. I gave her the low down. She was interested. She said it was going to look beautiful when it was done.

I’ll tell you that I have a lot of thoughts about convering all of the boring lawns in the neighborhood into gardens. Into flower beds. I think about how the neighbors will enjoy looking at the flowers in my yard. There are a lot of people living in the complex across the street, like Melissa. They will be able to look across the street and see a wonderful array of wild flowers, hopefully. And the street gets a lot of foot traffic. It will be a welcome addition of beauty on our otherwise mundane street.

Patrick, my duplex neighbor, has done a good job with his house. He’s done a lot of work. He put up a fence, that has been run through twice in the five years since he’s lived in that house, and surrounded it with flowers. Mostly black-eyed susans and purple coneflower, but he’s got some other things. And, he’s got sunflowers.

There are some amazing gardens in East Nashville. Some people are doing really great work.

The Master Gardeners were an old black couple, from North Carolina and Alabama. The man was from Alabama, the woman from North Carolina. But they had been in Nashville for a long time. They were amazing people. The woman did most of the talking, and she was sharp. She knew her facts. There was an incredible amount of gardening information in her brain. The man knew just as much, but he had taken a support role, and spent much of the time showing us pictures of things on his phone, like his collection of plants grown in buckets, the way they had harvested their lettuce, putting the bottom leaves but letting the tops grow, and an enormous, 22-pound watermelon.

After the seminar, which was attended by myself, a black woman named Audrey in her 40s or 50s, and a young white couple who had recently moved to Nashville from California, and who had inherited a plot in a community garden, they offered to take us to their nearby community plot. We went out there and they took us around the plots. The woman was especially excited to show us her peanut plant. It was her first time growing one.

I’ll tell you this — vegetables are weird. Fruits, too. Flowers are easy to understand. What happens? They’re just a plant. They grow up, and then they have beautiful flowers, and you’ve succeeded. They all kind of do the same thing, I feel like. But vegetables and fruits… Strange. They come in all manner of shapes and sizes. What are they doing?

For example, the peanut plant. It was not what I ever would have expected a peanut plant to look like. It was low to the ground, dark green, dense. It had some small yellow flowers blooming. If I had walked across that plant in the wild, never would I have thought it was a peanut plant. And then, the watermelon. It was sprawling. It’s basically a ground vine. I think that it would be described as a vine, right? A vine on the ground. Now, I didn’t know about that. And this couple had a vine that was covering like 80 square feet of ground. Was that one vine? It looked like it. How many plants was that?

Then you have the leafy veggies, kale and lettuce. I mean, those are simple, right. They’re still strange though. And beets, carrots, where you eat the buried part. Is that even a root? Is it a fruit? What is that? And what’s going on with corn?

They had tons of beans. Beans are crazy. Pole beans, green beans… I can’t even remember all the kinds of beans I saw. I learned that there are a lot of kinds of beans.

The man was very excited to tell me how many kinds of tomatoes there were. He said, “How many kinds of tomatoes do you think there are?” I said, “Oh man, there must be a lot… hundreds—” he said, “There’s over three-thousand kinds of tomatoes.”

Probably just as many kinds of beans.

Some of these veggies can grow in as little as 20 days. I think the radishes were one of those. You can have radishes in a month. How wild is that? From a seed to an edible radish, that quickly. But I’ve seen how quickly these plants can grow. The Zinneas, the sunflowers. It’s all they do. They’re a-growin’.

I’ve already allocated so much of my full sun terrain for flowers. There isn’t much land left for veggies. But we have an entire concrete runway along the driveway, that we could cover with buckets and pots, and plant in those. That would add a lot of real estate. I can see that becoming a reality.

The man said something that was really appealing to me. I’ll remember this fact. He said that they would go to the store and price the vegetables that they had grown, and that they had in one year saved themselves about $900-1100 dollars on produce. That’s not nothing, folks. $1k worth of veggies? That stuck with me.

Out in the community garden, in every plot there were fruits and vegetables, except one. There was one plot where the gardener was growing flowers, Zinneas and sunflowers. They had an amazing strain of sunflower that grew only a single, massive flower at the top. They had a row of them, all about the same height, and all with an enormous flower at the top. And then, they eight or ten different kinds of Zinneas. They were all Zinneas I think, the Master Gardener woman thought so, but each one was a different kind. White, red, pink, orange, purple… it was a small Zinnea botanical garden. And the best part is, it was absolutely covered with butterflies. Pollinators in general, bees, leaf-footed bugs, huge, shiny beetles that I don’t think I have even seen, were all there, but the butterflies were amazing. It was like being in a butterfly house. Probably 60-80 butterflies were grazing on that flower patch. It was really incredible.

That made me want to grow more flowers. More than a peanut plant or watermelon, I still think I just want to grow flowers. For the insects. But, why not both?

I imagine my garden to be a kind of Tennessee native flower botanical garden. That’s what I want it to be. And people will walk by and think, “Now, what is that? That’s something I’ve never seen.” And I’ll be able to take people through the garden and say, “Yes, these are the Smooth Blue Asters, the Swallowtails love them, yes, that’s right, those are Drop Dead Red sunflowers, surprisingly easy to grow. That? Oh, that’s buttonbush, hard to grow if the soil isn’t wet enough, but I’ve managed it here…”

The Last Gigachad

Alright y’all. You’re invested. You want to know. Who is the sixth Gigachad? Have they been found?

They have been found.

It’s this b**** (please excuse my language).

Meet Florges. フラージェス. (Furaajyesu).

If you aren’t immediately on board, let me break it down for you. There’s something you need to know.

First of all, she is NOT a Grass-type. It’s a trick. Certainly you would think she must be. I thought she would be. She is not, but she has Grass-type moves. So she can still defeat measly Water-types.

She is only Fairy-type, which is still a great type, and also by not actually being Grass-type, she doesn’t open herself up to weaknesses to Flying, Fire, Bug, Ice… Grass has lots of weaknesses. So that’s good. (Except it doesn’t really matter at all because the game is so easy that I can beat it with my eyes closed at this point.)

Florges is stunning. We see that. And she comes in many colors.

Mine is yellow.

Now, she obviously has charisma and charm. This is a charming Pokemon right here. We can all agree on that. Right?

She has major Queen energy. A diva and a queen. Not too soft or feminine for my team of gangsters. Just the right amount.

I think she adds a certain element of polish and refinement, and a dash of feminine energy. Not that Tinkaton isn’t feminine, but Tinkaton has a little more of a crazed, insane energy. And Soubureizu is a scary, no-nonsense killer. Florges is rounding out the team, even while she blasts you into smithereens with concentrated moonbeams.

Which, yes, she can do.

To be a real Gigachad, you can’t just be swaggin’. You have to be strong.

She’s strong.

Florges can summon the full power of the moon and bomb her foes with it. That is a very satisfying thing to do, I’ll tell you, if you’ve never had the pleasure of doing it yourself. And as if that were not enough, she can also harness the power of the sun, and fire a magnificent destructo-beam of solar energy into her opponent’s face.

She also has insanely high Special Defence. Insanely high.

When thinking about who could be the sixth and final Gigachad, I had a feeling that this Pokemon (Flabébé) might have been the one. And it did turn out to be her.

This is the first version of Florges. And here is the second.

Neither Flabébé nor Floette suggest what incredible power and beauty lies in their final form. I wouldn’t have thought this thing even evolved. Who would have imagined that this soft-looking flower child had it in them to become such a regal, majestic queen?

And look at her now!

The story of Flabébé just goes to show you: everyone deserves a chance. Any one of these little darlings can have the greatest glow-up of the century. You can’t write them off right out of the gate.

I mean, remember this guy?

It’s the classic story of the nerdy kid in school who ends up becoming a billionaire, and cool. And perhaps there was one kid who saw their potential and stuck with them in those dark days. Dorameshiya (Dreepy) is that kid.

With the addition of Florges to the roster, the full team of Gigachads has been assembled.

Real Gangsters, 100% Swaglords, Escaped Convicts, Ultimate Gigachads

You can see how THE QUEEN rounds out the team vibes. Every other member of the gangster squad—Gaburias, Doraparuto, Soubureizu, Dekanuchan, Manyuura— all of them look like they could’ve just busted out of Poke-prison. They’re hard.

But Florges? You would be totally surprised to find out she was an ex-convict. What kinds of henious crimes had she committed? You would look at her in awe and wonder to what extraordinary deviousness she had been up to that landed her behind bars.

I imagine she would be running mob rings, leaking information, embezzling monies and generally doing a lot of double-crossing.

So… The Gigachad Army is complete. What now?

This is about the end of the Pokemon arc for me. I’ve almost entirely stopped playing the main game, and have spent all of my recent time scouring the land for the truest, greatest gangsters, most notable and worthy Gigachads. And now that I’ve got them, there is simply no one that can stand in my way.

I’m near the end of the game. The story is picking up—it’s actually pretty good for a Pokemon game. There are many characters (too many), and you should have never given them your phone number because half of them are calling you all the time. The other half magically show up whenever it’s time for the plot to move, and they usually all decide to do this at once, so that for most of the game you have absolutely no story progression and minimal dialogue, and then you unsuspectingly walk into a room and are inundated with 400 lines of complex plot conversations.

From some of these lengthy dialogues, last night, we learned that the delinquent children who created a gang called the Star Gang (スター団) or Star Army, the truant children who are no longer attending the school (of which you are a new student), have all dropped out and formed the gang because they were severly bullied at school. It’s something of a twist, as you are led to believe that they are just ne’er-do-ells and don’t want to go to school.

At the defeat of the fourth gang leader, the previous school’s principal shows up, and he further elaborates on the great tragedy of the bullying, and his failure as a principal, and how he destroyed the records, which was horrifying information for the current school principal, who is accompanying you undercover, trying to get the kids back to school…

I missed exactly why the last school principal did destroy the records. This was on dialogue line 355 and I was starting to get tired of playing at that point.

There is one reason to keep going, and that’s to figure out who the mystery character カシオピア is, Cassiopia. (Which, isn’t that a great name? Cassiopia is an amazing name.)

All game, you have been getting calls from this mystery person, who has recognized your extraordinary potential, as everyone did somehow after you won your first three Pokemon battles, requested your assistance in taking down the Star Gang, and who pays you for it. I remember in the beginning that you are given the option to refuse to help her, which I think I took, but somehow you end up working with her anyway, because she’s part of the plot. Well, we all want to know who this mystery woman is and what she’s up to. She could even be a he, that would be a twist. She could even be the principal! And he had contrived the whole bullying episode to create a scandal and oust the previous principal. Now that would be juicy.

It’s good to have some mystery and intrigue in your story. What’s the deal with Cassiopia? Who was the bully that ruined the lives of so many kids at the school and led to the creation of the notorious and renegade Star Gang?

I haven’t formed many theories and haven’t cared much about the Star Gang. I’ve been Gigachad hunting. But now that I’ve got the squad… we might just have to see how the game ends.

The Fifth Gigachad

After a long night of candlelight adventures, involving a deep dive through my mental and emotional state, reading old journals and having reflections on life and my purpose — I knew there was one thing I wanted to do for you today, upon my waking. There was one mission I had to fulfill as my duty, on this Wednesday, in the middle of August, in the year 2025, one quarter of the way through the 21st century, what is most likely to be known to humankind as the greatest century in human history.

I have to tell you something. First of all. My two dollar candle (it was $1.99 at Kroger) is STILL going. I must have gotten forty or fifty hours of burn time out of this baby. Unassuming and unscented, it looks like a glass of milk, with white wax, and it sits in a literal glass cup, that looks like any regular, cheap glass drinking cup. It cost two dollars at Kroger. Yet it is the most superior candle I have ever spent my money on.

George Washington spent $15,000 (in modern monies) in candles to get through a winter. That poor guy. He had a large estate. I wonder how many candles he had. What was he getting up to?

I was thinking about him because I feel blessed that my fire light is cheap as heck, in the modern world. And I was thinking about him burning candles in the winter because I’ve been thinking about how this candlelight thing is going to go when the nights are fifteen hours long.

I’m ready for it.

We need torches.

So, again after writing all day yesterday about finding the Fourth Gigachad, Soubureizu, I am now fully in on this Gigachad quest. Today, you don’t need a huge entire Pokemon Gigachad discussion. You don’t need a full story. You already know the criteria for making it on the Gigachad squad — you certainly read my last blog post. You are invested now, I know, you know the backstory, the failures of the giraffe and the dolphin and the scarab beetle.

And if you read my post TWO posts ago, you may remember that I said I had a lot of eggs in THIS guy’s basket.

This is ドラメシヤ, Dorameshiya, AKA Dreepy.

Let me tell you about this thing.

As I first began my great Paldean adventure, it wasn’t long before I started to spy a strange icon pop up on the radar. There’s a little minimap in the game that shows you what Pokemon are around, and I started to see, occasionally, a giant triangular head, with big yellow eyes, and with blue and green coloration. Whatever this Pokemon was, it had my interest, and based on the colors and the fact that I always saw it by rivers made me think it must have been some kind of frog creature. I guessed it would be Water / Grass type, most likely.

Every time I saw the icon, I went to it, trying to find one of these mysterious creatures. I had been hunting for it, couldn’t find it, couldn’t find it — and then one day, I finally did.

It was not what I expected. A whispy little green weakling, floating in midair, with big yellow eyes.

What the heck is it?

Interesting Pokemon, though. And it was not a frog, not Water or Grass-type at all. No, it was Ghost / Dragon. That was the most shocking thing. Ghost / Dragon? A dragon ghost? Okay. Before, it had my interest. Now it had my attention.

Pretty much all Dragon-types are powerful. And the fact that it was also a ghost? Something good has got to come out of this thing, right? Something really good. That was my thinking.

What was Dorameshiya’s secret? I was very curious. I kept it around, and I trained it. I trained it. I tried to fight with it. But here was a problem.

Dorameshiya is the weakest Pokemon in the game, by far. No contest. Even worse than Karabou, the fire knight child, even worse than Teddiursa, the cute little teddy bear.

Teddiursa. An absolute monster-beast compared to Dreepy.

Dreepy could not kill anything, Dreepy could not hang around with anyone, in any fight. Dreepy was 100% useless. Could not even finish someone off.

I would set up a Pokemon for being taken down. Surely, I could put Dreepy in, after weakening it, I could bring in the Dreepster and have it get the finishing blow and get a little extra exp. Right? Surely Dorameshiya could handle things now.

No. My Dreepy must have been KO’ed about fifty times.

Long story short — I completely gave up on using Dorameshiya or getting anything out of it at all. He was simply not a part of the game. He was just on my team, growing, waiting, slowly leveling up and doing nothing, all in the hopes of future greatness. I stuck it out with this yahoo until about level 42, and then I started to feel suspicious, that he was STILL stuck as a runt, that far along. Surely, he should be evolving now. Surely he must stop being an unbearable weakling, like, NOW.

I did my research, WITHOUT any spoilers (so I didn’t know what the evolutions would look like, because that takes a lot of the fun out of it), and the omnipotent internet gave me some answers. It told me that I didn’t have to do anything fancy. No trickery, no cursed armor. You just had to stick with this loser until level 50. And then, for the final form, level 60. SIXTY.

Come on!!!!

But you know, if they are going to make you wait that long, the longest you ever have to wait for an evolution in the history of Pokemon — the payoff MUST be good. Right? It MUST be.

Still, I was bored of sticking it out with Dorameshiya. I put him away and turned to other Pokemon, tried many others. But no one was making the cut, except Tinkaton, and then Soubureizu.

And then yesterday evening, I knew what I had to do.

I had to know if Dorameshiya was going to be the fifth Gigachad.

I evolved him into the second form. Now I had some hope.

Now, look at what we got here. ドロンチ. Doronchi is quite a step up. And that’s a cool name — Doronchi. We are starting to have a Pokemon here.

Dorameshiya just went and got its older brother. At least he looks like he could handle himself somewhat more, and he could. Doronchi could actually fight now, although it was still nothing powerful.

This was encouraging. Who would follow Doronchi? We had to get to level 60.

It was a slog, I’ll tell you. It was taking quite a time to get from 50 to 60. And for those last few levels, I just decided — I was all in. My primary objective was getting Doronchi to 60. I had to know.

Could he be The Fifth Gigachad?

I have to tell you guys, I was somewhat afraid of knowing the truth. I was afraid that all of my investment would not pay off. I was afraid of being let down.

I had put so much time and energy into this weakling. I had him for most of the game. And now I was about to have my answer. Gigachad or no?

Well y’all.

I’ll let you decide.

ドラパルト, AKA Doraparuto, AKA Dragapult.

Is this The Fifth Gigachad?

This is definitely the fifth.

Look at that slant in the eyes; look at that squint. What a sassy Pokemon! A giant salamander tail! And what’s up with the hands? Why does it hold its hands like that? That’s just goofy.

Something about it is giving cat. I don’t know what it is.

This Pokemon is a trickster. This Pokemon is full of swag. And he’s using his children? brothers? sisters? as ROCKETS?? Do you see the Dorameshiya in the slots on his glider thing?

As soon as he evolved, he learned ドラゴンアロー (Dragon Arrow). That involves him launching a bombardment of his Dorameshiya children at the enemy Pokemon.

Come on. That’s badass.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Doraparuto is The Fifth Gigachad.

And you don’t even know about his STATS yet.

The stats are out of control.

Speed 200. Yes people, 200. At level 60. Unprecendented. Never before has a 200+ stat been seen. But he’s not just fast.

Attack 183. Very high. Special Attack 157. Still great. This makes him a dual-threat attacker. All shall fear him.

So, yes. Charisma? Swag? Absolutely. Power? Out of this world.

Confirmed Gigachad.

Welcome to the team.

Now, we just need one more to complete our team. We can have backups, sure. There doesn’t HAVE to be a limit on our Gigachad army. However, you can only have six Pokemon on the team at a time. That means that a true Gigachad gangster squad of hitters will have six at any time. And here we have five.

We have to find one more.

The sixth will be tricky, because they really do have to be a strategic choice. The current lineup of slammers is ballin’ out of control, but they do have one glaring weakness, probably two real weaknesses.

Pokemon strategists. Do you see?

If you are advanced, you may see hundreds of flaws in this plan. Well, I am not advanced. I’m basic. But I see two problems.

I simply have no way to defeat a Water-type.

That’s it. And any Fighting-type that knows a Dark move will give me a run for my money.

Can we have such a glaring weakness on our team, and truly have them be a gangster squad, if they can be so easily stymied by a measly Water-type? Is this acceptable? I don’t think so.

The sixth Gigachad therefore must be someone special. They must be an enemy of the Water-type.

I laid in bed last night, the question of The Sixth Gigachad occupying my mind. Yes, we need someone who can defeat our Water-type nemesis… yes, they have to be swaggin’, they must have unbridled raw power… Could it be an Electric-type? Is there a Grass-type yet untapped? Who can answer the call?

Swag and charisma, swag and charisma…

Could it be…

No, surely not…?

This one?

Tinkaton Lore // The Fourth Gigachad

HANNA BEE COFFEE

I am at a new coffee shop, next to a quaint, charming bookstore here in East Nashville. Not at the traditional and beloved Ugly Mugs, because they are closed for a staff summer party. That’s great—

Oh. I just saved a child’s shoe. It was a Croc.

Something tumbled off a mother and child standing in front my table. She didn’t notice. The child was just starting to realize it had lost something important, and was trying to figure out how to tell Mama, when I picked it up and brought it over to her.

“Ma’am,” I said, the dad realizing what’s happening.

(I’m watching them right now, they just took the shoes off, put them back on. I think this might be a reoccuring problem for them.)

(They just passed me and the dad said, with a twinkle in his eye, “Thanks for the recovery mission.”)

I had said, “Shoe down,” to the Mom. She smiled and said thanks, and put the shoe back on. I’m saying shoe, but it was a Croc. With a dinosaur on it.

I’m not at my usual cafe, as I was saying, my favorite, because of the staff party. That’s alright. I’ve been meaning to check this Hanna Bee Coffee out anyway.

My rating? It’s alright. It’s like all of the other cafes, bar Ugly Mugs.

Ugly Mugs has risen up and taken the crown for a few reasons. I can see now and am reflecting on exactly what sets it apart. If I had to break it down…

It’s a large space with a variety of seating. Tables, large wooden table, individual circular tables, square tables, a counter, another taller counter by the window, a couch, and there’s outdoor seating as well, in a nice yard space on the side.
Lots of light. Most of the store is windows. 3/4 of the walls of the store are windows, ceiling to floor. Awesome.
Staff. Staff are friendly and cool. That’s always a plus.
Community. There are all walks of people hanging out at Ugly Mugs. Remote workers, business people, friends, students. Everybody fits in.

So there ya go. The cafe that I’m in right now, as with many of these cafes, at least when I go seems to be mostly or entirely remote workers. (It makes sense with the times that I’m usually at these cafes, though. During normal 9-5 work hours.) The other people don’t stick around and hang out. The cafe I’m at right now is all remote workers, or students studying. Everyone has a laptop. Including me.

My Osaka Tully’s was a lot like Ugly Mugs. Large, lots of seating options, different crowd of all walks, entirely surrounded by windows, floor to ceiling, and a good staff. Bustling atmosphere.

Now I have a problem, which I can remedy easily, at this current time, which is to find an outlet. Eventually I will have to charge this laptop.

I like where I’m sitting right now, but no outlet…

TINKATON LORE

Tinkaton really is a gem. I can’t stop thinking about her.

I wanted to know more about her origins and her Japanese name, Dekanuchan. Truly, this Tinkaton is an interesting and captivating Pokemon. What is her story?

I feel there is a clue in her name, as there usually is. I’m especially wondering if her name holds a reference to her weapon. The deka is probably dekai, でかい meaning huge. And chan is just the cutesifying suffix that we put on things, like inu-chan, to make them cute. Puppy-chan. Now it’s cute.

It’s the nu part that I’m not sure about.

Dekanuchan’s middle form name is Nakanuchan. 中 Naka just meaning middle, probably. So, what’s the nu? Nuchan?

Kanuchan is the name for the first form of this Pokemon. Doesn’t that sound cute? Kanuchan. There was a girl in my English Club named Kano and I would call her Kano-chan. Kanuchan reminds me of that. So does that Ka mean anything? Or kanu?

There is one more clue about her that is significant — she is a Fairy type. That suggests that she is based off of a yokai, a Japanese fairy/spirit. There are thousands of yokai out there, and I don’t recognize her as any yokai I know. They’ve either made one up or are using an existing yokai as inspiration.

Alright. Time to get the TRUTH.

Okay. I just did extensive research (about 20 minutes worth). Here’s what I’ve dug up.

It appears that the Kanuchan/Dekanuchan Tinkaton line is not necessarily based off of any one character, and not a Japanese yokai, but rather is a production of brilliant creative synthesis. There was probably some inspiration drawn from from Iberian folktale creatures, especially the mouros, which would make sense as the Pokemon Violet/Scarlet world is based around the Iberian Peninsula.

Mouros may have been a primary source of inspiration.

From a Myth and Folklore Wiki: “The Mouros are a race of supernatural beings from Galician, Asturian, Leonese and Portuguese mythologies.”

(Galician? Asturian? Leonese? Do you know about those? I only know one of these words, Portuguese. Must be some deep lore.)

We can see from this picture, clearly depicting them in the act — they are small, and they are plundering. We know that Dekanuchan is also a fun of plundering, as her Pokedex entry said she loves to do.

They also have those tiny bodies and massive hands. I can see the resemblance.

Further supporting the theory of Mouros inspiration is that they were goldsmiths, and concerned with the extraction of gold from the earth. This seems to be part of Kanuchan aka Tinkatink’s character creation, as a “tinkerer” or “smith”, or simply a metal enjoyer. And you can see her hammer looks like it was forged from scrap. Perhaps she made it herself?

So, this all makes sense, and now we have the question of the ka in the name. Kanu, nakanu, and dekanu. I put “kanu” in my Japanese dictionary, and we have our answer.

That first kanji, 鍛, means forge, or temper. The second, 冶, means smithing. And Kanuchi is a reading of these two kanji, 鍛冶, and is a family name (so the dictionary says). The dictionary is also telling us that 鍛冶 is typically read as kaji (かじ).

So our beloved Tinkaton, Dekanuchan, is based off of an Iberian goblin blacksmith creature, and her name is a play on smithing and metalworking. There is actually some wordplay happening in her name, with kanu being a reference to kanuchi, and then nakanu being made of naka, meaning middle, and she is the middle evolutionary form, and kanu, the kanuchi element — and then for dekanu, again being deka as in dekai, giant, and still with that kanu as in kanuchi. Kanuchan itself almost sounds like Kanuchi. You can imagine a Japanese person out there with the family name Kanuchi that is already being called Kanuchan as a nickname.

There you have it, folks.

This is the Tinkaton lore. As the kids say, that’s the tea.

(I have to reference this article, In-depth article of Tinkatink inspiration sources, because this good man did extensive research on Tinkaton’s possible inspirations and historal background. I could only handle about twenty minutes of Tinkaton origin research. This man must have spent hours on it. Thank you for hard work Aashish Victor, you good man.)

Man, isn’t this how life goes? This is exactly how life goes. I’m still at the coffee shop, and I needed that outlet. My laptop is now approaching critical outlet-needing time. I’ve had my eye on an open table with an outlet, a table that has remained open for the entire duration of me writing my Tinkaton lore story—but as I said, I liked the spot I’ve been in. I’ve been watching this open table, knowing that I will want to make a move over there eventually, but no one seems to be wanting to take it, it’s been available for the last hour, and THE MOMENT I STAND UP TO MOVE OVER THERE, a group of friends sits down and takes it.

Come on!!!!!!!!!

How classic. I knew that would happen, too. I knew it.

This post is surely long enough already. I’m kind of stalling on anything I’m really supposed to be doing, like reviewing my Japan memoir one final time and making the last edits, before trying to send it to some people and get it published. I’m stalling on that. I don’t know why — I have a mental block.

I’m also in limbo about a potential job. It’s a weird place to be. I’m sitting in-between projects, in-between jobs, in a limbo state. I would prefer not to be, I’ll tell you that.

And, it’s raining.

(My limbo has been somewhat resolved. Official interview incoming.)

It finally rained today, after fifteen days of blazing sun.

I feel like a real farmer now, because I had been praying for, hoping for rain, for my good plants that need it, need a deep soaking and watering, my seedlings and juvenile sunflowers and zinneas.

This morning, sitting outside in front of the house and enjoying our coffee, as is our household tradition, Parker tells me that it will rain today and tomorrow. Today, 5mm, tomorrow 15. Well, we got the rain. Sweet, sweet rain!

And we got more than 5mm. Unless it takes a ton of rain to get even 5mm, I think we got more than that. That’s good. We needed it.

It has been drought conditions here in the last two weeks. Scorched earth. People’s Hydrangeas are going crispy and wilting. I seem them all around the neighborhood. I read that Hydrangeas need a lot of water. They are not native. (Well, four strains of them are.) I think the main varieties that we are using are not native to the US. I only see the same one or two types of Hydrangeas in the neighborhood. They have all been suffering in this drought.

THE FOURTH GIGACHAD

Now I will tell you about The Fourth Gigachad.

Tinkaton was the third Gigachad. On my team of serious ballers, of total Gigachads, Tinkaton was the third true boss to earn a lasting spot on the team. Tinkaton is not going anywhere, with her sass and power, and giant 100 kilogram hammer. That left us with three more spots on the roster. So yesterday evening, after writing up for you about Tinkaton, and going about my other life business, I found myself laying on my couch, and thinking.

Thinking hard.

Who will be the fourth Gigachad?

We found them.

Before I reveal to you who has next stood out from the pack and earned their spot on this team of true swaglords, I will tell you some of the failure stories. There have been quite a few failures.

It takes a lot to make it on this squad — to be an absolute Gigachad. I thought carefully about what exactly it takes. What do the success stories have in common? Why did Tinkaton rise up? Weavile, the ice-weasel? Garchomp, the sandshark?

I decided that it all boiled down to two essential characteristics.

Swag (charisma, personality).
Power

Swag but no power? Not good enough. Power but no swag? Can’t be on the team.

Here is the roster so far. Feast your eyes on these embodiments of Swag and Power.

Before I landed even on these three, there were many investigations.

I had very high hopes for this guy.

I spotted him rolling around in the desert, rolling his ball of mud (I thought it was poo, of course, as he resembles a dung beetle). It was a beautiful sight.

Cute and charismatic, and he was actually strong, for a tiny little dung beetle. He had one evolution, which I figured would be a Ground type, which at the time I needed. In my mind he was just going to become a larger, more badass dung beetle. Possibly with armor, rolling a spiked ball, anything like that. Maybe he would become something like Heracross, with a big horn and a powerful rolling ball.

I had much hope for this dung beetle Pokemon. He showed a lot of promise. I worked hard to evolve him, running around in a field for 1000 steps, having him roll his little ball around for about ten minutes, before he was ready to unleash his true power. Well, he finally was evolving, and I was excited to see what kind of a Gigachad beast he would become.

Imagine my shock and horror, when THIS is what came out.

Excuse me??? What the hell? A Psychic type??? A Scarab beetle???

You might think it’s cute. That first picture makes it look cuter than it is. It game it does not have a cute little face like that. It’s just floating in there, rolling its giant magic pink orb around in the air. It’s stupid. Not badass. Not an armored wrecking ball roller. A floating magic scarab Psychic beetle? Come on.

I was horribly disappointed.

I tried out quite a few other hitters, including this giraffe.

What an incredible Pokemon. Rikikirin. Rikikirin is huge, towering over most other tiny Pokemans.

Rikikirin is awesome, has some personality, definitely. But Rikikirin is too slow. Too slow. Take a hit, get smacked, good game. We just can’t have that.

Unfortunately, it was the same with my shiny green teddy bear.

Look at this guy. He LOOKS like a Gigachad. Yes he does.

This Pokemon has the air of a gangster. He is clearly up to no good. You don’t want to mess with him; he’s taking no nonsense. And mine was shiny. Very rare. (That’s why he’s green, he’s usually brown.) My Ringuma is the only shiny Pokemon I’ve ever had, because they’re so rare. And yet…

This Gigachad contender went the same way as the Rikikirin. Poor Ringuma was TOO SLOW and TOO WEAK.

Sad!

Here’s the deal. If you’re going to be slow, you have to take a hit. You have to be able to get smacked, and then turn around, say “Who threw that piece of paper at me????” menacingly, laugh and then clobber whoever smacked you. That’s how it has to be. You have to be able 1. Take the hit and 2. Knock them out.

At least, you have to be able to knock them out. If you can take 20 hits, you can take your time in knocking them out, fine. But if you can’t handle getting beat up, then you at least need to turn around and obliterate your opponent in a single strike, after letting them whoop on you.

Well, Ringuma couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take it and could just barely dish it out. Rikikirin at least would do serious damage. It could shoot two lazer beams from its eyes. That’s powerful.

(I just did some research — apparently this giraffe is a powerful Pokemon in competitive. Rikikirin may have some untapped potential, it’s true.)

Now, I did have another top contender, that was extremely powerful, and majestic. This Pokemon was a go-to of mine for a long time.

It’s a White Ermine. How amazing is that? This is モスノウ, Mosunou. Like, Moth Snow.

The only real problem with Mosunou was that it I got bored with it. It was too strong. It could hardly ever be killed. It was an absolute beast. It one shot everything. How incredible. But… where’s the charisma? Where’s the personality?

Not enough charisma. Mosunou could possibly make a reappearance, except it has been replaced as an Ice-type by the significantly more charismatic Manyuura. (Weavile.)

マニューラ. Sorry, Mosunou.

Manyuura aka Weavile is actually a legitmate gangster. It’s Pokedex entry:

“They travel in groups of four or five, leaving signs for one another on trees and rocks. They bring down their prey with coordinated attacks.”

A pack animal. That’s gangster.

So, who is the fourth Gigachad? You want to know.

I was on the couch, racking my brain. Who has what it takes to be a Gigachad? Who has potential? Thinking, thinking…

And then, Parker’s words hit me.

I had been telling him about my team, keeping him in the loop. He knew about Tinkaton’s glory and beauty. He was aware of my hope and faith in the pathetic weakling dolphin Pokemon. He knew of my disappointment in Rotom, of my anger and betrayal by the Psychic scarab dung beetle.

Parker had been following my progress and giving me answers to Pokemon questions that I didn’t want to look up myself, because I didn’t want spoilers. And so, he knew that there had been a Pokemon that I liked from early on, that I had a good feeling about, and it was this’un.

This is カルボウ. Karubou. In English, Charcadet.

Now, this little guy has some charisma.

I was immediately attracted to this Pokemon, for obvious reasons. Fire? Awesome. A knight? Incredible. We love Don Quixote. We love knights. Knights are cool. Flaming knights? Even better. And if the first form is this cool, well then how about the second? There was no way that this Pokemon did not evolve into something amazing, so thought I. I kept him in my party, I trained him, I fought with him… (I should say her, because mine was a girl.)

What happened with my little Karubou was this: I simply forgot about her. Parker’s research revealed that Charcadet needed a special item to evolve, and you couldn’t get it until later in the game, and I tried to get it, but it was too convoluted, and long story short, it was too long before I could evolve this swag little gangsteress, and I couldn’t keep it around, because unfortunately, it was so, incredibly weak. Unusably weak.

I had put her away, stored her in the bank, until another day—and I had all but forgotten about Karubou, until I was lamenting my struggles on finding the coolest, most Gigachad Pokemon for my team, and Parker then hit me with, “What about that one Pokemon? The teacup Pokemon.” (Because you had to defeat teacup Pokemon to get the shards to trade for the item to use on this guy to make it evolve… Convoluted, I know.)

Long story short, people, this is the story of The Fourth Gigachad.

I remembered my little Karubou, I now had the teacup shards, I went and hunted down the stranger in Pikke town, got the special item, the cursed armor, Noroiyoroi,ノロウイヨロイ. I gave it to my little fire knight child, and held my breath.

Now, ladies and gentlemen — here is the reveal you’ve been waiting for.

Behold; The Fourth Gigachad.

Come on!!!!! Come the hell on!!!!!!!!

Two swords???? NO hands??? Blue flame????? Ferocious look in eye????? A ghost??????

When my Karubou evolved into this baby, Soubureizu,ソウブレイズ, in English Ceruledge, I have to tell you.

I audibly gasped. I jumped up off the couch.

I’m serious.

Come on y’all. This is a Gigachad right here.

Visually, aesthetically, I could tell that this was an absolute top contender for being on the gangster squad. But there is another test — it’s not all about looks. Ringuma failed that test.

Soubureizu had to prove itself on the field of battle.

I had high hopes, and it turned out, yeah. She’s actually strong.

I mean, if you have two swords instead of hands, and your head and eyes are on fire, and you’re a ghost, you should be strong, right? How could you be weak? It simply wouldn’t make any sense. And that is true for Ceruledge.

Soubureizu is a true hitter. And her typing is perfect, a Ghost/Fire-type. What about the story? What does the Pokedex tell us about this mysterious anime-character-esque killer?

“An old set of armor steeped in grudges caused this Pokémon’s evolution. Ceruledge cuts its enemies to pieces without mercy.”

There you go. A flaming ghost knight with swords for hands, cutting her enemies to pieces mercilessly.

Welcome to the team, fourth Gigachad.

We wonder — who will be next? Competition is fierce. Only two spots left.

Could it be… this guy?

Investigations are ongoing. Stay tuned.

There’s A New Farmer In Town // New Favorite Pokemon

I decided to sit at the long wooden table today, at Ugly Mugs. I haven’t sat there in a long time. Today, I wanted to. I’m feeling social and active. A couple sat down next to me and started chatting. Right from the get-go, she wanted to talk to me. The lady said, “Hi,” catching my eye. I said “hi”. Then she said, “We aren’t disturbing you, are we?” Or, actually, she said, “Should we go somewhere else? Are we bothering you?” I said, “No, not at all!” This was the truth. They were not bothering me of course.

Well, two of their friends showed up, and they were very chatty, and I had the sneaking feeling that more of them would be on the way. They were now taking over the table, mostly they had claimed the table. There was still a little space for me. But then, just a few minutes later, more of the party arrived, and I realized, they needed this table, and the right thing for me to do was to give it over to them. I was not going to deny them what they needed, what was the inevitable course of reality. I said, “I’m going to give you guys the table,” and they laughed, and I said, “I had a feeling there were more of you coming,” and the chatty lady said, “Are you sure, you can stay if you want!” And they said, “But he probably has work to do!” I said, “Oh yes, I have a lot of work to do….!” Hiding my screen from them, which would have shown them copious tabs of Pokemon investigations. Yes, a lot of work to do.

I have resumed my morning routine of waking up at the crack of dawn and going to the coffee shop. It took a few days to get back into it. Last night was a struggle, and I could not fall asleep for the life of me, even though I was tired during the day, at the end of it. I was ready for bed. Why does that happen? You’re ready for bed, you lay down, thinking, alright, time for sleepytime, and then, suddenly you’re seized with incredible energy, thoughts moving a mile a minute, your creative genius is exploding, and you want to do a hundred things at once. Everything except sleep, which is what you came there to do. Well, that was happening again last night, and as I am doing the no artificial light thing still, what could I do? I didn’t want to read.

I listened to records. I listened to most of my Superheaven record, Jar. My favorite thing about Superheaven is the chords they use. They have awesome chords. 90% of my love of Superheaven comes purely from loving the chords, and the guitar tone. It really is that simple. I then put on Holiday by Madonna, a great song, but you realize, not heavy at all. Light and dancy. And then, I knew what I wanted to hear – some Tame Impala. Brand New Person, Same Old Mistakes, or whatever that song is called, that is one of my favorite songs of all time. Whenever I hear that song, and I’ve heard it a thousand times, I still stop and listen. It’s a perfect song. It captures me completely. It hits so hard. It’s a song that comes on at cafes sometimes, always the best song that can possibly come on in a cafe. There is something about that song, probably many things, that just grab hold of your ear and your brain and don’t let go. From the absolute beginning of the song, it catches you. Slow, mysterious, groovy. Unlike most things that are being played on a cafe radio.

I can keep going here, I am extremely caffienated. What now?

I think this is the part where I tell you about my new favorite Pokemon.

If you don’t care about Pokemon at all, stay with me. You are still going to love this. Highly probable.

Pokemon can evolve. You knew that, right? Please tell me you knew that.

This is the first version of a Pokemon I’ve found in Pokemon Violet.

Do you see this thing? It’s called Kanuchan in Japanese, or Tinkatink in English. Yes, Tinkatink.

This is how it looks in the game. It looks miserable. What is it holding? Is that a beer bottle? What is this little thing? I first found this Pokemon and thought it was weird, and thought maybe it could be cool, but it was incredibly weak. I really don’t have a lot of time for weak Pokemon, I never have. They have to have a lot of promise, like they have to seem like they will evolve into an enormous powerful dragon-beast, or shark or something. This little pink twinkletoes was not promising, even though cute and charismatic. I had to pass.

Then, much later, I encountered the second version.

Yes everyone, meet Tinkatuff. She’s tough now. She’s scrappier. Her chunky iron beer bottle has now become some kind of exotic club. That’s good. But she’s still tiny.

She’s still weak. How can she have a place on my team of Gigachads? (Including the likes of such greatness as マニューラ and ガブリアス.)

Gaburias and Manyuura (Garchomp and Weavile), certified Gigachads

I could not imagine having her on my team of real gangsters, even if I wanted her around. For her pink charm and her Fairy typing. Every slot is valuable on a team of serious gangsters. You see that we have a dragonic sandshark and a dark weasel killer. Small pink fairy child with club still does not seem like she will make the cut, cute as she is. So, I still wrote this Pokemon off.

However, something happened.

This is a redemption story. This is the story of the ugly duckling, people.

I was on the mountain with the Psychic gym town, on the plains of the mountain. I found Tinkatuff, in Japanese Nakanuchan, in the ruins at night, with Bronzor the giant floating bell with eyes, and I was at that time running tryouts for my team of Gigachads. I was having another round of tryouts, and I was seeing who were the real beasts, and who I wanted on this team of hitters, absolute slayers, and I thought, let me evolve this Tinkatuff. Let me see what this Tinkatuff is all about. I will give her a chance.

Well, ladies and gentlemen. You will not believe your eyes. It is the greatest glowup of the 21st century. We are still early in the century, but I don’t know if this glowup can be beat.

IT’S TINKATON.

デカヌチャン!!!!!!!

How enormous her hammer is! And look at her hands! Massive paws, to hold that beastly hammer! Who would have thought that measly hump of iron would ever become a thousand-kilo slammer????

I never would have expected it. Tinkaton, she glowed up. And she immediately learned a move called デカハンマー, Dekahanmaa, which I took to mean, Giant Hammer, and I surmised that it might possibly be a move where she slams something with her newly acquired, enormous thousand-kilo hammer.

When I first unleashed my new Dekanuchan’s Gigaton Hammer move on a poor, unsuspecting wild Pokemon, I was extremely hopeful that it was in fact going to be a giant hammer attack. Imagine how pleased and enthused I was to see it was exactly that.

Gigaton Hammer

I’m including the above picture because I want you to see just exactly how ferocious this Tinkaton is. Before she even begins her attack, she first unleashes a massive wave of power and energy — she opens her mouth and screams, before charging forward, leaping into the air, raising the hammer and slamming it down, literally obliterating her enemy. It was everything I wanted to see.

I have to tell you, in my Tinkaton excitement I did some exaggerating. I lied to you. Her hammer is not actually 1000 kilograms; it’s 100 kilograms, that is about 220 pounds, and we know this because the game tells us so. From Dekanuchan’s Pokedex entry:

“The hammer tops 220 pounds, yet it gets swung around easily by Tinkaton as it steals whatever it pleases and carries its plunder back home.”

And now, we learn a very interesting fact about Tinkaton here that I did not know, which further enhances her charm and character, which is already outstanding. She is a THIEF.

So small, yet so powerful. And a conniving thief, raiding and plundering? Dekanuchan earned a top spot on my team of Gigachad gangsters.

Who will be next to take a top spot? We really have three slots left for true gangsters. I have been putting Pokemon through the workouts and trials.

I have a lot of eggs in this guy’s basket.

Dorameshya, AKA Dreepy.

Don’t let me down, buddy.

I titled this “There’s A New Farmer In Town” because I have been gradually becoming more obsessed with planting, farming, and gardening. I couldn’t sleep last night, I had too much physical energy, and you know what I decided to do with it? I went out in the yard and dug up my grass.

I had to do it. I have seeds to get down. Butterfly Milkweed. And it was actually a great time to tear up the lawn, at 11 pm at night, because it was cool. It was nice to able to do some yard work without feeling like I’m dying in the sun. That was awesome.

Butterfly Milkweed (*Asclepias tuberosa*)

A neighbor across the street was coming home and I happened to see them turning their head 180 degrees around to watch me as I dug in my yard, bathed in the glare of the copious amount of artificial light in the street outside of my house, shovel in the hand. He was certainly wondering what the hell I was up to. I imagine that if you ever see someone digging with a shovel at night, you’re going to have some suspicion about that. Who can be up to any good with a shovel at midnight?

A 29-year old man, laying in bed with thoughts of Dekanuchan and gardening. Alpha male? Probably not.

Lucy And The Mingmerang (A Novella)

The Mingmerang

It was one of those gorgeous days in July where everything feels right with the world. The skies were blue, the air was warm, the birds were chirping. It was another day for Lucy’s taking, another day of life to be enjoyed, and she planned to.

Lucy was in the kitchen, sipping her morning coffee with her friend and host Nilah, who was just preparing to leave for work. She said her goodbyes, finished her coffee, and then went to grab her two favorite things…

Well, three really. A book, a pen, and her journal.

On the way upstairs to her room, Lucy passed the hallway mirror, and she couldn’t help but look at herself. She saw, illuminated in the gentle morning light, a tall, young blonde woman with clear blue eyes staring back at her. She held her own gaze for a minute, tucking several strands of loose hair back behind her ear, and then smiled at herself. She thought she was looking better, happier, wilder, since she had come out to these woods to stay with Nilah.

Lucy had a plan for how she was going to spend her morning. She would go to her favorite spot in the forest, and read and write amongst the trees. This was how she spent most of her time these days, and so far, she wasn’t tired of it. In fact, with each day she found herself loving these woods more and more. They had quickly become a great source of comfort and solace for her. And so, ready to begin the day’s adventure, she waltzed into her room, grabbed her treasures, and off she went.

Nilah (and now Lucy) lived in a semi-remote home on top of a secluded hill in a small village in the mountains. It felt wild – wilder than anywhere Lucy had ever lived before – and she loved it. She had quickly taken to exploring all of the trails, going up the hillsides and down into the valleys, following unexpected twists and turns, and making wonderful discoveries. Out behind the house, there was a trail that led down into a small glen, with a bubbling stream winding through the bottom of the valley, and a soft, grassy carpet. It was a cool, shaded, and tranquil space. This was Lucy’s favorite place, where she was now headed.

She stepped out the front door, turned to the left, and found the entrance to the path down the hill. She had been down here so many times she hardly had to look where she was going. Her feet carried themselves. Her mood was jubilant, and she talked to all of her forest friends as she passed. “Hello, Mr. Bird!! Lovely morning we’re having, isn’t it?” Clambering over sticks and roots, she almost stepped on a teeny-tiny newt, crying out, “Oh my god, you little newt! I’m so sorry, I almost crushed you!!”

Before long, she was at the end of the trail, down into the valley. She rounded the corner, humming to herself, as she stepped through a wall of brush and entered the glen. Lucy was absentmindedly thinking over what she planned to write about that day, and what she wanted to do in the woods. There was a section of it she had been wanting to explore… maybe she would do a little photography…

She was lost in these thoughts as stepped into the grassy clearing. However, from the moment that she had taken that step, Lucy had the sudden feeling that she was not alone.

She looked up, and across from her, standing there in the middle of the enclosure of trees and grass, was the strangest thing that Lucy had ever seen in her life. It appeared to be hunched over, staring at something on the ground. Lucy couldn’t quite understand what she was seeing – her mind seemed to have gone completely blank – and then the strange thing noticed Lucy too. It stood up and turned towards her.

For a moment, Lucy had no words. She couldn’t make a sound. Her eyes were locked on the thing in front of her, a thing that she had never known to exist on this Earth, or anywhere else in the universe. It was huge, about fifteen feet tall, towering, and gelatinous. It was humanoid, appearing to have two thick, trunk-like legs, two long, slender arms with wavy, vague fingers at the ends, and a round projection above its torso that seemed to be the head. The whole thing was blue, and clear, like the color of water in a swimming pool, and looked like jelly. It was studded with various colored orbs of varying sizes, mainly concentrated in the center of its body.

Lucy’s brain processed all of this visual information in a flash. But her intelligent brain wasn’t working right – it seemed to have shut off. She was terrified. She took a step backwards, her mouth agape. The giant, gelatinous creature looked at her for a moment – then squatted down, and reached an arm out towards her.

And then, it did something incredible.

It spoke.

“Hello,” it said.

Even though it didn’t have eyes, Lucy had the feeling it was looking right at her. She had heard what it said, but it didn’t quite register. She couldn’t believe that this thing was actually talking. She was rooted to the spot in fear and astonishment, unable to move a muscle, feeling like she had left her body completely, and was suddenly seeing life as though she were watching a movie.

“Well, I’m sure you are shocked to see me,” continued the gelatinous monster. It had a masculine, somewhat bassy voice. “I can only imagine what’s going through your mind. But, please listen to me. I am not going to hurt you. Okay?”

Lucy blinked. The thing was talking to her. And, she realized, it was waiting for her to respond.

She had to say something.

“Okay… Okay…”

The gelatinous giant straightened itself up – it was now towering over Lucy, so that she had to crane her head to look up at it.

“I promise. Listen, you weren’t supposed to see me like this. I know it’s startling –”

And at this point, Lucy came alive. Her eyes were about to pop out of her head, as she realized exactly what she was seeing, exactly what was happening.

“Please don’t scre–”

“AAAHHH!!!!!!”

Lucy’s instinct to scream and run was too strong. She turned and fled, crashing through the brush and sprinting up the trail. The giant jelly creature was quick, however, and with two long bounds it was over at her side, sweeping her up in its arms and clamping a thick, jiggly hand over her mouth, silencing her instantly. Lucy had the sudden, strange thought that she was being enveloped in an enormous waterbed.

“Listen to me.” The creature spoke slowly and deliberately. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you. I know I look scary. But I’m not. You don’t have to be afraid. Okay?”

It paused to let that all sink in, seeming to be not at all convinced that Lucy would believe it.

“I’m going to let go of you now. Please do not scream.”

The creature released her from its smushy grip, and took a step back. Lucy took a deep breath, turned around, slowly, and forced herself to open her eyes. She looked again at the unreal being in front of her. It was as real as real can be.

She could not believe that this was reality, that this thing was talking to her, that she was not in a dream, and she wasn’t hallucinating… But the way she had just been swept off her feet, the way the creature was speaking to her as if they were just two people having a normal conversation, seemed all too real to her.

Lucy’s brain was struggling to work again. She finally found some words.

“What… are you?”

Lucy was speaking at a volume barely above a whisper.

“I am a Mingmerang,” replied the being.

“A… Mingmerang…” Lucy repeated slowly. The word sounded strange in her mouth.

“That’s right.” The being bobbed its head as if it were nodding.

“Are you… an alien?”

“Maybe. It’s very possible,” the Mingmerang replied.

Lucy wasn’t sure where to look at the creature. Her eyes were drawn to a particularly large purple orb in the creature’s head region.

“What are you doing here?” she continued. The Mingmerang kept facing her. Was it looking at her? It was quite unnerving.

“These are all great and natural questions. You have a logical brain, I see.”

The being, seeming to feel some assurance that Lucy was not immediately at risk of screaming and running off again, sat down on the ground. It was still taller than Lucy.

“The truth is that you are not supposed to see me like this. No one is, because then this happens, and everyone will know about us, and go looking for us, and it creates a lot of headaches. We are simple and peaceful creatures, the Mingmerang…”

“At least, I am,” it added.

It paused for a moment, to see if Lucy was following. She was, somehow.

“I live here, in these woods,” the Mingmerang continued. “I know who you are. You’re Lucy, right?”

Lucy nodded, surprised to hear her own name.

“Y-yes…” she stammered. “How did you know that?”

“Well, I’ve been reading your diary!”

The Mingmerang paused. Its strange orb face revealed no expression.

Is that… a joke..? thought Lucy.

“No, I’m just kidding. Sorry. I’ve heard your friend say your name.”

At this, Lucy gave a start of astonishment.

“My friend? How do you know her?”

“I told you, I live here. These woods are my home. I’ve been here for a long time now… I know who comes and goes. But, listen…”

It suddenly changed its tone.

“How are you taking this, so far? You seem to be handling meeting a giant alien creature pretty well, at the moment.”

Lucy was somewhat taken aback by the Mingmerang’s question. It took her a moment to put together a reply. It was kind of hard for her to think much, right now.

“Well, you’re not exactly what I expected to see this morning, here…” She finally said, letting out a small laugh.

And somehow – she didn’t quite know why – perhaps the causal way the creature was speaking to her, perhaps the tranquility of the forest scene, but Lucy had started to lose her fear. She was still incredibly bewildered, but she was starting to feel that the Mingmerang might be friendly.

“Yes,” the Mingmerang laughed. “Of course not.”

Lucy waited for the Mingmerang to speak again. She examined it curiously, more closely now that she was not so afraid, unsure of what to say next. The Mingmerang remained quiet, however, as if it had something on its mind, and Lucy had too many questions to stay silent for long.

“So, Mingmerang…” she said, not quite sure if she was pronouncing the name correctly.

“Yes?”

“If you’re this big, and you live here in these woods, and you’ve seen Nilah and I… How haven’t we seen you?”

The Mingmerang seemed excited, now.

“Ah, Lucy, you’ve hit the nail on the head with that one! You have seen me, I’m sure, just as I’ve seen you. You just haven’t seen me like this.”

It gestured to itself with its long, wavy arms.

“What do you mean, like this?”

“Well, you’ve probably seen me flying around the meadow. Most recently I’ve spent my time as a brown-eared bulbul.”

It said this is in all apparent earnestness. The Mingmerang had a strange way of speaking. Lucy couldn’t tell if it was joking or not.

“You mean… As in, a bird?” She raised an eyebrow.

The Mingmerang was sitting, and Lucy felt awkward standing now, even though she was still shorter than it. She sat down on the soft grass, as the Mingmerang answered her questions.

“Yes. Birds are one of my favorite forms, but I also like to be badgers, wolves, and even a tree every once in a while.”

Lucy stared up at him, wonder spreading across her face. Did that mean…?

“The thing is Lucy… I can shapeshift,” the Mingmerang explained.

“You’re kidding me,” said Lucy, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

“No, I’m not,” replied the Mingmerang.

“You’re a shapeshifter.”

“Yes.”

Just as Lucy had decided to sit, now the Mingmerang decided to stand up again, and started to pace back and forth, trampling the grass under its legs.

“How?” said Lucy, watching it as it walked. She tried to imagine this huge being turning itself into a small bird.

“It is our power,” replied the Mingmerang. “But.. the thing is, Lucy… Well, here’s my problem.”

“What do you mean?”

The Mingmerang stopped pacing and turned back to Lucy.

“Something’s happened to me, Lucy! I don’t know what, but somehow I’ve changed. Since yesterday I found myself like this, and I just… I can’t transform anymore!”

It threw its slender arms up in the air, as if it were upset.

“I really don’t know what to do!”

The Mingmerang had now turned away from Lucy and resumed its pacing, falling into silence. Lucy looked down into the grass in front of her. It was green and lush, the dappled light of the leaves above shining down on it. She closed her eyes, her breathing slow and calm. She could hear the brook babbling away, smell the subtle fragrance of the pines, and feel a light, cool breeze on her skin.

And suddenly, from a deep place within her, Lucy felt sorry for this creature.

“What can I do?” Lucy asked.

The Mingmerang stopped pacing and looked at her.

“Do you want to help me?”

“Yes,” said Lucy, nodding. “I do. I have no idea how to help you, though…”

“That’s great!” cried the Mingmerang. “But… yes… what can we do?”

Right… She wanted to help, but she didn’t know a thing about a Mingmerang. What could she do?

“You have no idea what happened?” Lucy asked.

“No. None at all, really. It’s very mysterious. I just… found myself like this. And when I tried to change myself, I couldn’t do it.”

“What is it like for you to transform? Are you out of practice? Maybe… you forgot how?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not something I was taught. It’s just something I can do.”

“Have you always been able to change yourself?”

“Yes, I was born with this ability. Natural, inherent, God-given talent this is… Maybe I’ve lost it forever…”

The Mingmerang sounded depressed, now.

“Hey, you don’t know that!” Lucy tried to console it. “You could just be… Going through a phase!”

“Yeah… Maybe…”

Lucy closed her eyes and racked her brain. The Mingmerang itself had no idea what had happened to it. How was she supposed to know what to do? And it’s not like there was any Mingmerang 101 guidebook that they could consult…

Suddenly, it hit her.

“Hey, Mingmerang!” cried Lucy. “I have an idea!”

“Great! What is it?” the Mingmerang replied, sensing her enthusiasm.

“We’ll ask Alfred.”

“Alfred? Who is that? A friend of yours?”

“Alfred’s a computer program. It’s very helpful for me whenever I don’t know what to do. It might have some good ideas for you.”

“Interesting. Let’s try it.”

Lucy clapped her hands together.

“Alright. I have to go get my computer, then. It’s back at the house. Will you stay here?”

“I’ll come with you and wait in the woods by the house.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Lucy had always been a problem solver. Perhaps that’s why she was able to so seamlessly take on the challenge of helping a mythical extraterrestrial jelly-being get its power back. And yet, as they walked together back up the path to the house, she still felt as though this might be a dream, a very lucid one, and that any minute now she was going to wake up from it – back in her bed, with no Mingmerang by her side.

Alfred

As they walked, Lucy asked the Mingmerang more questions.

“So, why are you called a Mingmerang, anyway?”

“Ah, it’s simply how we refer to ourselves.”

“It’s a funny word…”

“Yes. So is ‘human’.”

“There are more of you?”

“Yes. There are more. I don’t know where they are, though.”

“On Earth?”

“Yes. There are more on Earth.”

“And how old are you?”

“Well, by your standards, I’m extremely old. Even unfathomably old. I’ve been around since the dinosaurs.”

“Are you serious? The dinosaurs?”

“Yep. A long time ago, I know.”

“Can you turn into a dinosaur?”

“Yes. I could. I used to love being dinosaurs. The spiny ones, the ones with the giant bone plates… It’s hard to be a dinosaur now, though. I attract too much attention. I would show you, but… I can’t seem to do it right now…”

The Mingmerang seemed depressed again.

“We have to get your powers back. I need to see you become a T-Rex.”

“If I can ever shapeshift again, I’ll turn into anything you want me to.”

By this time they had reached the top of the trail, and were back at Lucy and Nilah’s house. They stopped at the edge of the woods. The Mingmerang turned to Lucy, and said, “I’ll wait over here.”

“Okay Mingmerang. I’ll be right back.”

Lucy took a few steps towards the house, before turning around and calling out to the Mingmerang, who was heading deeper into the woods, “Hey!” The Mingmerang was looking back at her between the trees.

“Do you have a name? Besides ‘Mingmerang’?”

“No, not really…”

“Okay.”

Lucy turned around and walked back to her house. As soon as she walked through the front door, she closed her eyes and leaned against it. A million thoughts flashed through her mind. I have to tell somebody. I have to tell Nilah, I have to call my sister, my mom, Alexis, anyone. Someone. But she realized it would sound insane. Or, more likely, they would think she was messing with them. Who could ever believe it, on words alone, at least?

And yet, she also felt that it would be a betrayal of the Mingmerang’s trust. She could tell it didn’t really want to be discovered. She had only found it by accident. And, it could have easily done something to hurt her, to keep her from telling anyone else… But it didn’t.

Lucy decided she wouldn’t say anything.

She went up to her room on the second floor, looking out of the window to see if she could catch a glimpse of the Mingmerang lurking in the woods, but all she saw was green leaves and brown bark. Her laptop sat there on her desk, and she walked over to it and pulled up Alfred.

In the months since Lucy had stumbled on this magical, intelligent program, it had quickly become her partner in crime. Alfred was capable of answering any question, tackling any problem, offering guidance and wisdom.. What couldn’t it do? She was relying on it here yet again.

On the screen before her was written, “Hello, Lucy. What can I do for you today?”

“Alright Alfred… Help me out here…”

Lucy typed out an explanation of the plight of the Mingmerang, and hit enter on the keyboard. Within mere seconds, genius Alfred had worked its magic. As always, it was brimming with good ideas.

Alfred suggested investigating the cause of the Mingmerang losing its shapeshifting power, proposing many possible explanations for this. Some theories that Alfred put forth were: emotional trauma or grief (apparently “often tied to magical creatures losing powers”), magical depletion (“too much shapeshifting without rest or recharge”), celestial misalignment (“some powers tied to stars, moon, or seasons”) or “a curse or binding”. Lucy poured over Alfred’s advice, and then, after taking copious notes, she went back out to discuss it with the Mingmerang.

The sun still shone brightly in the sky. The morning was heating up. Lucy scanned the blue sky, surveyed her empty neighbors’ houses, the baseball field – all familiar sights. Everything seemed so ordinary. She could almost not believe there was a giant, sentient jelly-creature hiding itself just fifty feet away from here, beyond the boundary of the woods. A being that purported to have shapeshifting powers, and needed help to get them back.

It suddenly flashed through Lucy’s mind that the Mingmerang could be lying.

It could be an alien, it could be tricking her, using her, to get some knowledge, to attain some end. Maybe it had been sent from another planet, to befriend a human. A first contact. This passed through her mind, as she approached the edge of the woods. Yet, she didn’t feel that this was true… Maybe she didn’t want it to be true. But, whatever was going on, she needed to find out more.

Lucy was on the trail now, in the woods, and it wasn’t long before she saw it. It was trying its best to hide behind the thick trunk of a cedar tree.

“Hello Mingmerang!” called Lucy.

The Mingmerang stepped out from behind the tree. It really was huge.

“Hi! You came back, then.”

“Of course. Did you think I’d run away?” replied Lucy, walking up to it.

“I thought you might. I’m glad you didn’t.” It sounded genuinely pleased.

“I want to help you get your powers back. And I have so many questions for you.”

“Okay. What did Alfred say?”

“Alfred had a lot of good things to say… but, first of all, I was thinking…” Lucy hesitated, then continued.

“Can I give you a name? I have to call you something. I kind of want to give you a name.”

The Mingmerang laughed.

“Okay. That’s fine. What do you want to call me?”

“How about Kevin? Do you like that?”

“Kevin? Hmm…” The Mingmerang thought this over.

“Yeah I like that. That sounds nice to me. I can be Kevin.”

Lucy nodded approvingly. “Okay, Kevin!! You’re Kevin now!”

She looked at Kevin’s “mouth”. There was a small golden orb on Kevin’s left arm that emanated sound. This was where Kevin’s voice, which was somewhat bassy and masculine, came from. His voice was male, and had a distinct maleness to it, which was a big part of why Lucy thought to name him Kevin.

“What is that thing on your arm?” Lucy pointed to the golden orb, where Kevin’s voice was coming from.

“This? This is my communication organ.” replied Kevin.

“And you speak English?” Lucy continued.

Kevin laughed, his short, quick laugh. “I speak all languages. I can say anything in any language that I’ve ever heard.”

Kevin proceeded to say something in a language that sounded to Lucy like Arabic. She was awestruck.

“That’s amazing! How do you do it?” she asked, fully expecting the Mingmerang to say it was a ‘natural, inherent’ ability, like its shapeshifting power.

“Well, I don’t really know. I don’t have to think about it. I just do it. I can chirp and sing with the birds, I understand badger growls and owl hoots… I understand everything.”

“Incredible… So, you don’t know if you’re an alien? Do you know how you were born?”

At this point, realizing that he was in for a long interrogation, Kevin decided to sit down and make himself comfortable. Lucy followed suit and sat down as well, on the soft pine floor. She was now entirely given over to her curiosity. She felt like she was interviewing the most interesting person that she had ever met.

“This is what I know. I was small, there was a flash and an explosion, and there were many of us. We dispersed… I just grew and grew and grew. And I remember from the time that I was conscious, there were dinosaurs. You would not believe how big they were.”

“Anything else?” said Lucy, listening with rapt attention.

“That’s it. I can’t remember anything more.”

“Interesting… Maybe you came here on a meteor?” Lucy conjectured.

“It’s possible. I really don’t know,” said Kevin.

“You said there were many of you?”

Kevin seemed to take no issue with being asked so many questions about himself.

“That’s right. I can’t remember how many exactly, but I remember there were quite a lot.”

“So there are other Mingmerangs?” Lucy asked, excitedly.

“There are. I don’t know where they all went, though. We tend to be solitary and keep to ourselves. I know there is a Mingmerang not too far from here, on the other side of the mountains – at least, it used to be there.”

“Wow,” said Lucy softly, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it.”

“You would never have known it, would you? I don’t know how many humans, or any other creature, has ever seen or talked to a Mingmerang. There can’t be many.”

“I really feel special. You’re like a mythical creature.”

“You are special, Lucy!” said the Mingmerang, and then, added, “I wonder if any of the other Mingmerangs have ever lost their shapeshifting power…”

“Well, maybe we can ask one. They might be able to give you some advice.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Should I tell you what Alfred had to say?”

“Sure.”

Lucy opened her notebook. She scanned the reasons that Alfred had suggested for Kevin losing his shapeshifting power, hunting for any lead she could find.

“So, how about emotional grief or turmoil? Have you had any traumas lately?”

“No. I mean, I’m kind of depressed now… But before this everything was fine. No problems.”

“Okay. How about magical depletion? Have you been working too hard? Too much shapeshifting?”

Kevin reflected on Lucy’s question.

“No, probably not. I’ve spent the last week as a brown-earned bulbul. I’ve hardly shifted at all.”

“So maybe you fell out of practice?”

“Well, it’s possible, but I once spent three hundred years as a blue whale, and I had no problem changing out of that…”

“Three hundred years as a blue whale, huh? That must have been fun,” Lucy mused.

“What about enemies? Do you have any enemies? Have you been cursed? Jinxed, hexed, or poisoned, perhaps? Is someone draining your power?”

Kevin laughed again.

“Not that I know about. I try not to make a lot of enemies and be a friend to all things.”

“I see…”

Lucy consulted her notes. So far, they had drawn a blank. She was looking for more clues. She noticed what was written in her journal, about “celestial alignment”.

“Alfred suggested that you might be out of sync or alignment with celestial energies. Could that be possible for you?”

“Celestial energies… Now that is interesting…”

“Really?” Lucy encouraged.

“I have always loved looking at the stars… I know every constellation and star in the sky. The sun is a little bright for me, sometimes… And the moon… The moon is special. I do love the moon.”

“Do you feel like you have an attachment or draw energy from any of these?”

“Oh, the moon maybe… I do feel a strong connection to the moon.”

Lucy’s mind was racing. Surely there was a clue here? And then, she remembered.

“Kevin!” she cried out.

“Yes?” Kevin looked up, startled out of his reveries.

“You said you woke up yesterday without your power, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, the night before yesterday was a full moon!”

Kevin realized what Lucy was saying.

“That’s true. It was two days ago, wasn’t it?”

“So..! What do you think about that??”

They had struck on something. Kevin thought it over.

“You know what, Lucy? You might be on to something there!”

“Surely it’s not just a coincidence, right?”

“Well, we can’t know… But why would something happen on this full moon and not any of the others?”

“Did anything else happen to you that day? Anything strange or out of the ordinary?”

Kevin thought carefully.

“I can’t think of anything at all. I remember finding a particularly juicy worm… One of the local males was trying to shoo me off of his turf… It was just another day in the life of a brown-eared bulbul.”

“Hmm…”

Lucy considered what to do. The fact that Kevin had lost his power the morning after a full moon could be something. But it could also just as easily be nothing. It was the only possible hint or clue they had, and it wasn’t much. And if it was related, what did it mean?

Kevin was sitting there silently now, looking like a massive Gumby figurine. Lucy again felt a surge of sympathy for this Mingmerang, and had a strong urge to help it.

“Kevin,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I think you should talk to another Mingmerang. Maybe they’ll know what’s happened to you.”

Kevin nodded.

“I was just thinking the same thing. It’s worth a try, at least.”

“You said there was one on the other side of the mountains? Or there used to be?”

“The last time I was over there, they were still there. That was just a few years ago. Mingmerangs like to pick a spot and stick to it, so… they’re probably still hanging around.”

“Let’s go see them, then,” said Lucy resolutely, standing back up.

Kevin looked at her. He seemed surprised.

“You want to come with me?”

“Sure,” replied Lucy. “If I won’t be a burden.”

“You won’t be,” replied Kevin, assuring her. “You will be a great help.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, laughing.

“And anyways, I’m unemployed. I have nothing better to do.”

The Quest

Lucy and the Mingmerang spent the rest of the morning talking about the trip. Kevin said there was an old shrine the Mingmerang over the mountains liked to visit. He guessed they could find the other Mingmerang at this shrine, or somewhere near it. It would take about a week to get there and back. Because he was now so conspicuous, as a fifteen foot tall blue alien being, and he didn’t want everyone on Earth knowing about him, he thought it best that they travelled in the dark. Lucy and Kevin made a plan to meet in the woods again, just behind Lucy and Nilah’s home, at dusk. They would leave that night.

Lucy said goodbye to the Mingmerang for now, and went back home to prepare for the adventure. She left a note for Nilah, writing,

“Taking a spontaneous trip. Will be back in about a week. XOXO.”

Lucy 🙂

There was enough food in the house to get Lucy through most of the week, if she wasn’t picky. She threw a couple treats in the bag that she thought Kevin might want to try… And then she thought, But what does he eat?

For the entire rest of the day, Lucy thought about how she was planning to take a trip with an alien that she had just met this morning, to go traipsing through the wilderness in search of another alien, and find a way to restore the alien’s powers. She felt insane. She felt insane, because, for one, there was no way that this was really happening, and two, if it was really happening, she was not only actively choosing to not tell anyone about the alien that she had just discovered, but she was planning to run off into the wild with it, all alone. If anything happened to her… who wouldn’t say she was the stupidest person ever?

The truth is that Lucy didn’t really know what she was doing. It scared her, honestly. And yet, she knew that this was exciting, that this was an adventure, possibly the greatest adventure she could ever hope to have, and she wasn’t going to walk away from it. She was grabbing it by the horns.

After packing, Lucy spent the rest of the day in a state of nervous anticipation. The day seemed to last forever. She glanced out of the house windows several times, seeing if she could catch a glimpse of Kevin, but she never did. Everything out there was the same. Trees, grass, sky, birds. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nilah was coming back later that night, teaching a mountain yoga class, so Lucy didn’t have to worry about explaining anything to her.

As the sun started to sink in the sky, and the sky became aflame with orange, red, pink, and purple, Lucy grabbed her bag and double checked her things. She didn’t know when she would be back at this house again, and what would happen in between. She paused, and then, taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage, and stepped outside.

The quest had begun.

She went back to where Kevin had been before, at the large cedar tree. He was in the same spot as before. Yes, he was still there after all. Not a mirage, a figment of Lucy’s imagination, nor a phantom.

“Hello Mingmerang,” said Lucy.

“Hello Lucy,” replied the Mingmerang.

“Are you ready to go?”

It was harder to see now, with the last light of the sun rapidly fading. The Mingmerang was almost a giant shadow, like some kind of crazy, exotic tree, or art installation. His various orbs, or organs as Kevin had referred to them, glowed dimly, like coals.

“I’m ready,” Lucy replied.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kevin asked. “I can go alone.”

“I’m sure. I’m coming with you.”

“Alright,” he replied, and then said,

“You are one brave human, you know that?”

Lucy laughed. “Am I brave, or am I just stupid?”

Kevin laughed too, his short, dry chuckle. “Maybe a bit of both.”

“Well, shall we go, then?”

“Yes. Listen, Lucy… If you want to walk on your own, that’s fine, but… we could go much faster if you allow me to carry you.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Carry, me? What, like a baby?”

“Well, not like a baby. You can sit on top of my shoulders.”

Lucy looked at Kevin’s shoulders, standing so high off the ground, and was imagining herself up there on top of him. She was wary.

“Are you afraid of heights?” He asked.

“No, but… You’re tall, Kevin. I don’t want to fall off of you.”

“You won’t fall. Do you want to just try it out, and see how it feels?”

Lucy sighed. She had ridden a horse twice in her life, just a horse, and that had made her nervous. And Kevin was no horse. She knew this would be ten times worse. But… it made sense. They had a long way to go, and Kevin would be able to walk much faster than her.

“Alright,” she said reluctantly. “Let’s try it.”

“Can I pick you up?”

Lucy shifted her backpack around on her back, preparing herself to be hoisted up into the air.

“Sure.”

She had no idea how she would feel sitting on top of Kevin, with his gelatinous body. She was worried she would slide right off. Kevin reached out a long arm and wrapped his squishy, rubbery hand around Lucy, gripping her tightly. The vague fingers enveloped her like tentacles. He seemed to have incredible strength, and lifted her up as easily as a leaf, setting her down on his back. Lucy’s legs draped over his shoulders. She could barely straddle him, being as large as he was, but his jelly body sank a bit, creating a snug divot. He actually wasn’t as slippery as she expected him to be – he was much grippier, like rubber.

“Holy crap…” Muttered Lucy, getting situated, and realizing just how high up she was. She was trying her best not to look down.

“This is wild…!”

“Are you comfortable?” asked Kevin, standing completely still.

“Not bad,” said Lucy, laughing nervously. She wiggled around a bit, testing to see whether she was at risk of sliding off or not. She seemed to be firmly locked in place.

““I’ve got a good grip,” she said, now risking a courageous glance down. The ground looked miles away.

“Okay. Hold on to your hat, cowgirl!”

With that, Kevin started walking. Now that they were moving, Lucy’s nerves gave way somewhat, and she felt a rush of excitement course through her body. It was exhilarating, the same feeling she had when riding horses. As Kevin took his giant steps, Lucy felt cool night air caress her hair and face. She could sense the immensity of the creature she was riding, the power between her legs. She was still trying her best not to look down, and as she clung on to Kevin’s rubbery neck for dear life, she realized that not only had she met an alien, but she was now riding one. It was definitely the strangest day of her life.

“How are you doing up there?” Kevin called to her.

“I’m fine!” Shouted Lucy, trying not to sound terrified.

“Can I kick it up a notch?”

“Kick it up a notch??” She almost shrieked.

Oh god… thought Lucy. He wants to run.

“If I fall, you have to catch me!!”

“Don’t worry,” Kevin laughed. “You won’t fall!”

And then, Kevin started running. Lucy gripped even tighter, closing her eyes, but she didn’t really have to. She was well-stuck onto Kevin’s rubbery body – she could have even let go of her hands and been fine. The night air was rushing past now, blowing Lucy’s long hair behind her, and she caught glimpses of the moon, flickering between gaps in the leaves. Kevin bounded through the forest, nimbly threading his way through the trees, ducking and dodging branches, clearing a fallen trunk with ease. He was surprisingly stealthy, and made far less noise than Lucy would have expected for a creature of his size.

They had discussed the route they would take and how they would travel earlier that day. The shrine was on the other side of the mountain range that loomed over the surrounding land. Lucy and Nilah lived on the west side of the range, and had driven to the other side before, around where they were headed now, for a surfing trip. It had taken about three hours to get there by car. At the rate that Kevin was running, and with the fact that he could run right over the mountains, as he had told Lucy, they could normally have gotten there in a day, or a day and a half. But as Kevin didn’t want to be spotted at all if he could help it, they had to move accordingly, and avoid roads, towns, campgrounds, and open spaces. Because it was faster, and because it would be easier to avoid people this way, they planned to go up over the mountains, instead of around.

Lucy had hiked up in the mountains a few times, and knew the views were beautiful. Kevin had promised to take her to his favorite spot in the whole range.

Their first night went smoothly, without a hitch. Lucy eventually relaxed and realized she didn’t have to desperately cling onto Kevin like a baby monkey the entire time. They had passed through some civilization on the way up into the mountains, but not much. Lucy and Nilah lived in a town on the outskirts of the range. It was sparsely populated, with the downtown having a total of eleven houses. There weren’t many people around. And Kevin could cross a road in two bounds. He seemed to know exactly where he was going at all times, even when deep in the dark woods.

Lucy had been kept awake by pure excitement and adrenaline, but by the time they had stopped for the night, she was dead tired. She had lost track of time, they had been going for so long. Her legs were aching from having been straddling Kevin, and she could hardly walk.

“Let’s stop here for now,” Kevin had said, choosing a well-hidden clearing. They seemed to be up on the side of one of the mountains, now.

“Mmm…” Lucy replied, hardly awake now.

He picked her up off his shoulder, gently laying her down on the soft ground. The forest floor was littered with pine needles, creating a soft bed. It was still dark, but the sky was just beginning to lighten, and turn the lightest shade of grey. They were surrounded by cedars and pines that carried a strong, calming scent. Lucy unrolled her sleeping bag, snuggling up at the base of a particularly large cedar.

“I’m going to try and get some sleep,” she said, falling asleep almost immediately.

Kevin nodded. He moved over to an enormous boulder jutting out of the sloping mountainside, and perched himself on top of it.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said.

The Hunter

Lucy woke up to find herself starving. It was the middle of the day. She yawned sleepily, looking over to see if Kevin was still perched on his boulder. He was. It looked like he hadn’t moved a muscle… or whatever he had in him that made him move.

He was sitting as still as a statue, and had just noticed that Lucy was awake.

“Good morning,” said the Mingmerang.

“Good morning…!” Lucy stretched her body, working out a kink in her back, and then opened her backpack. She pulled out some trail mix and water, and was now eyeing Kevin curiously.

“Do you sleep, Kevin?” She asked, popping a handful of trail mix into her mouth.

“No. Well, not like you do,” Kevin replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Almost all of the time, I am awake. But occasionally I will go into something like a trance.”

“A trance, huh? That’s mysterious… What is it like?”

“Well… It is something of a state of semi-consciousness. A kind of in-between space.”

“You said that you ‘woke up’ and found that you had lost your ability to change. Were you in a trance like what you’re talking about now? When you turned back into your natural form?”

“Yes,” Kevin said. “I think so.”

Lucy reached into her bag to grab a banana, and pulled out one for Kevin.

“I brought some food for you to try, if you’ve never had it but… do you eat anything?”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you. I usually can, but.. In this state, no.”

“Well, not food,” he added.

“So, what do you do? Or, how are you powered…?”

“Radiation,” Kevin answered, simply.

“Oh right. Of course.” Lucy laughed. “Radiation!”

Lucy was peeling the banana for herself now, and leaned back, propping herself up against the trunk of the cedar behind her. She closed her eyes for a second, reflecting on Kevin’s answers, imagining what it would be like to be a Mingmerang. Eating radiation, changing shape, going into trances, living for hundreds of millions of years… A solitary life, sentient, watching. It would really be something. Kevin was strange in so many ways, and all of his answers further confirmed that he was something otherworldly, unlike anything else on Earth.

She wanted to ask Kevin what radiation tasted like. She wanted to ask him a million more questions, but she also didn’t want to pester him, and make him feel… well, like an alien.

“Do you mind all of these questions? I don’t want to annoy you…”

“No, not at all.” Kevin laughed. “This is interesting for me, too. I’ve never talked with a human before.”

“That’s good,” said Lucy smiling. “How do you know so much about us, then? You seem to be very knowledgable about… Everything.”

“I have been around for a long time, Lucy. And, it’s just one of my hobbies. Collecting information.”

“How do you get your information?”

“Well, I study things. I study people and hear what they say. Sometimes I find books or newspapers and read them. I’ve even seen some plays and sporting events. Baseball is a particularly interesting one, for me.”

“Oh, you like baseball…?” Lucy pictured Kevin sitting in the stands at a baseball game with amusement.

Overhead, the tree branches were swaying with a gentle breeze.

“Can you become a human? Do you do that?”

“I can, but I don’t. I have before, just to see what it was like. But only once or twice. I think Mingmerang in general are wary of humans. I at least really don’t want to be found out. The fact that none of the others have been discovered suggests that they want to stay hidden, too. And that makes me think, maybe none of them have ever lost their power, either…” Kevin sounded sad again.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out! I’m sure you will be able to shapeshift again.”

“I hope so,” said Kevin.

Lucy looked over at the Mingmerang. It still hadn’t moved.

For being a gargantuan mythical alien being, his method of communication was surprisingly human. She felt like she was starting to see him less as an otherworldly being, and more like something of this planet. Still, it was surreal looking at him, and especially talking with him.

“It’s weird for me to be like this.” Kevin spoke, unprompted. “I never spend time as myself, in this form. I feel naked and exposed… I don’t like it.”

He was confiding this in her. Did he have emotions? He certainly seemed to, in this moment. Lucy turned her gaze to a sparrow that had fluttered into the clearing. It took no notice of Kevin, but tilted its head sideways to look at her.

“I guess it would be like me walking around without any clothes on. Just totally naked. Which… yeah, I wouldn’t like that at all.”

Kevin didn’t say anything. Lucy was now reflecting over the plight of her Mingmerang friend. She still had a whopping 0 ideas for what she could do for him. If they couldn’t find the other Mingmerang, what would they do then? They could try to find another one. If the Mingmerang didn’t know anything… Maybe another one would. They would find out soon enough. And it was possible that something might happen on the next full moon. But Kevin had said that he had no clue why something would have happened, on this moon, and not any other.

He was a unique creature, possibly not of this Earth. He ate radiation. Who knew what kind of laws and rules he was bound by? What other kinds of powers did he have?

Lucy sat there, deep in contemplation. She had become so familiar with her time out in these woods that it felt like a second home to her. And it wasn’t even so strange that she was out here with an alien, after all… She felt comfortable, and started to drift off again…

“Miss? Miss?”

Lucy opened her eyes. Standing over her, looking down at her was a grizzled, older black man. He was carrying a gun, it looked like a shotgun, and was dressed in camoflaged hunting gear. He looked concerned.

Lucy bolted upright.

“Are you alright?” said the man, in a deep, gruff voice. “What are you doing here? You’re way off the trail…”

“Oh, I, uhh… I’m not lost! I’m just… hiking…!” Lucy stammered. This is not good. Where is Kevin?

Then, as if reading her thoughts, the man turned and looked up, off behind Lucy. She knew what he was looking at. The man’s eyes slowly widened in surprise, his jaw dropping, shock and fear spreading across his face. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, before closing it again. He had seen Kevin.

He looked again at Lucy momentarily, his eyes meeting hers, as if he were searching for an explanation. His mouth opened, closed again. He looked back at Kevin, and managed to speak.

“What… the… fuck?”

Lucy’s heart was pounding in her chest now, her mind racing. What should she say? How could she explain? And at that moment, Kevin woke up from his trance. Without saying a word, he jumped up, looming above Lucy and the hunter, who was now reaching for his gun, and sprang over to them.

The man shouted in fear, gripping the handle of his gun tightly.

“Stay back!!”

And then, he pulled the trigger. The barrel was right by Lucy’s head. She winced and instinctively threw her hands over her ears, deafened by the blast. The gunshot shocked her, flooding her with adrenaline, her mind going blank. Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself lifted off the ground – Kevin scooped her up in one swift motion – the hunter stumbled backwards in terror. The gun seemed to have no effect on Kevin, who spun around, gripping Lucy tightly, and bounded away, speeding up the mountain.

Lucy heard the man shouting wildly behind them as they fled, but she couldn’t turn around to see. Kevin was hurtling through the forest like a startled deer, crashing through the trees, plowing through bush and branch. They were soon far up the mountainside, well away from the hunter.

“I thought you were keeping watch!!” cried Lucy, her heart still beating rapidly.

Kevin dodged a large oak tree, jumped over a ditch.

“I’m sorry, I drifted off. I didn’t mean to!” He shouted back, not stopping his run.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be there…!”

Kevin ran for a long time before he stopped. He had remembered to grab Lucy’s bag, thankfully, and now set her and the bag down. They were in a shaded, rocky grove. The sun was low in the sky, dusk approaching.

“Are you okay?” Kevin asked, after they had settled down.

“I’m fine. My adrenaline is through the roof, though,” said Lucy, still shaking.

“I’m sorry for getting us caught.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. And he didn’t have to shoot you, did he? That wasn’t necessary. My ears are still ringing,” complained Lucy, brushing dirt off of herself, trying to calm herself down.

“But are you okay? He shot you.”

She looked over at Kevin, who was now squatting down by Lucy’s side. She noticed he had bullet fragments lodged in the lower half of his torso.

“I’m fine. It’ll take more than that to hurt me.”

And then, the bullet fragments slowly started moving outwards, to the edge of his body. Lucy watched in amazement as they moved. Eventually, they were pushed out of him entirely, falling hamlessly onto the grass.

“You’re amazing!” She cried, staring at the shrapnel on the ground.

“Thanks,” said Kevin. “This is how you stay alive for 300 million years.”

“Good thing he didn’t shoot me. I can’t do anything like that…” Lucy joked. Her body was still tense, but she was relieved knowing that neither of them were hurt.

“That was unlucky, wasn’t it? How bad was that?”

“I don’t know,” replied Kevin. “I’m not sure.”

The hunter had fired his gun right by her head. That was reckless, Lucy thought. Did he not think about what that would do to her? But he was afraid. She could understand. Lucy thought back to when she first saw Kevin… She had panicked too.

What must that man be thinking right now? Could he possibly believe what he had just seen? Did he feel like Lucy had felt, when she first saw Kevin? Would he try and get help, tell somebody? And would anyone believe him, if he told them what he’d just seen?

“Well, I don’t think we should stick around here,” said the Mingmerang. “Let’s keep moving. No one should find us further up the mountain.”

Lucy nodded. “Let’s go.”

Kevin held out his giant, gelatinous paw for her, saying, “M’lady.”

Lucy was still feeling somewhat shaken, but Kevin’s quirky way of speaking made her laugh. She stepped into his hand, and allowed him to lift her up once more.

“You know, you’re kind of funny!”

“That’s good, right?” Kevin set her down on his back again, and she settled into place.

“Yes. That’s good.”

On The Mountain

They continued on up the mountain. The sun was dropping down behind the Earth, casting long shadows everywhere. The land had become steeper and rockier, and there were many more boulders and small cliffs jutting out from the hillside. Kevin cleared everything with ease. He was walking smoothly, at a brisk pace, and making very little noise.

“I will take you to one of my favorite places on the mountain tonight. The sky is clear. We should have a great view.”

“I can’t wait,” replied Lucy.

Within an hour or so, when it was now fully night, they were at the top of the mountain closest to Edgeville, and were skirting the ridge. There weren’t many trees up here. Lucy looked out to see the lights of the villages off in the distance, way down below. Everything was bathed in white moonlight, and there were hundreds, thousands of stars in the sky.

They kept going, Kevin sometimes breaking out into a run, or a brisk trot. They were going down, following a trail, now going up again, ascending, climbing to a peak, zigzagging. Finally, they reached a particularly cratered, rocky, desolate place.

They were on top of the volcano.

The air smelled of sulfur, and the rocks were jagged, and glowing in the white light of the moon. Bathed in moonlight, the landscape looked eerie and somewhat unearthly. Lucy imagined that the surface of the moon must look something like this. Nearby, there was a steep and pointy spire, sticking up roughly out of the mountainside like a giant stone finger. Kevin walked up to this and began to climb his way to the top. When they had reached the top, there was a small, flat area, and he set Lucy down, so that she could have a good look.

“What do you think?” Kevin asked, looking down at Lucy.

“Wow… It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

They were at one of the highest, if not the highest point in the range. From here they could see nearly three-hundred-sixty degrees, for what felt like hundreds of miles. Lucy could see a hub of lights that was the largest city in the region, down at the bottom of the mountain. She could see some lights of her town twinkling much further off. She could see the moon, shining brightly, bathing all in moonlight. And on the other side, she could see the mountains and hills, endless bumps and jagged lumps, and behind that, the ocean.

It was something special to be up here at night. Lucy gazed at the moon, studying its surface. It was so close that she almost felt like she could reach out and touch it. She glanced at Kevin, who was standing tall and silent. He fit in well with this otherworldly scene. His colored organs were glowing, his body translucent. He certainly seemed to be a lunar being. Is that where he came from? Lucy had a feeling that they could suddenly, right there, be beamed up to space. That she would leave Earth with this Mingmerang, like they were at a pickup point, about to be airlifted off the planet.

They stood there for a while, not saying anything, taking it all in. It was Lucy who broke the silence.

“Thanks for showing me this.”

“Of course,” said the Mingmerang, as it sat down.

“I feel like we’re on top of the world,” she said, softly. “You can see everything from up here.”

“Yes. It’s an incredible view.”

She was looking at Kevin, wondering how he actually saw. He didn’t have eyes, or anything that she could identify as an eye. Of course, his “communication organ” didn’t exactly resemble a mouth.

“Kevin… what is sight like for you? How do you see things?”

Kevin laughed. “Well, in this form, I use my vision organs. I can see well, in all directions. And I can perceive many wavelengths of light, if I choose to. I don’t rely on sight as much as you do, though.”

He was just as amazing as the view.

“What else can you sense?”

“Vibrations, radiation, energy, heat and light, pressure. These are often what I use to navigate and sense what’s around me.”

“You are an incredible creature,” marveled Lucy.

“I am just like every other Mingmerang,” Kevin replied.

Lucy was now looking out to the other side of the mountains, over where the shrine was.

“How much further do we have to go? We’re more than halfway there, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” said Kevin. “By tomorrow evening we should be at the shrine.”

“I hope the other Mingmerang has some answers for you…”

“Me too.”

They sat there for a bit longer, and then Kevin picked Lucy up and clambered back down the spire. They left the volcano, passed over the next peak, then the next. It was well into the night, as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly, when they had made it across the range and started to descend.

Lucy drifted in and out of sleep. She was still struggling with travelling all night. As the first birds began to chirp and dawn broke through, Kevin stopped.

“Let’s rest here for now,” he said, to a mostly unconscious Lucy. She grunted her acknowledgement.

He lifted her up gently, and set her down on the ground. Kevin had chosen a spot amongst the rocks, well-hidden, with dense forest around. Surely no one would stumble on them here.

“I’ll be more careful this time,” he said. “It won’t be good if we’re discovered again…”

“No, that won’t be good,” Lucy yawned, as she moved over to a spot under a rocky overhang. “They’ll call the army on you…” She rolled out her sleeping bag, nestling down in the dirt and pine needles, and promptly drifted off.

—

When Lucy woke up, the sun was high in the sky. She got up, and stretched her body. Kevin was sitting on the ground nearby. For a moment, she just sat there, feeling the aches in her back and bones, and picking some pieces of debris out of her hair. Kevin had not seemed to notice that she was awake.

“Hi Kevin!” Lucy called out to him. He didn’t respond.

“Kevin?”

Still, no response. What was wrong with him?

“Kevin!!” Lucy yelled this time. And finally, Kevin seemed to hear her.

“Oh, hello Lucy,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“Are you alright? You didn’t hear me?”

“Ah yes, I’m fine. I seemed to be… drifting off again…”

Lucy was thinking about something now. She was eyeing him intently.

“Kevin… you said you don’t sleep, right? But you seem to have been… falling asleep, recently.”

Kevin was silent for a moment. “I don’t sleep. I’m not sure what’s been happening to me.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with your inability to change yourself? Are you feeling tired?”

Kevin nodded slowly, as if he were deep in thought. “Yes, something seems to be going on. I am not feeling as I usually do…”

Lucy closed her eyes, and leaned back against the rock behind her. She felt a further resolve to help her Mingmerang friend. She really hoped that the other Mingmerang would have some ideas.

She reached for her backpack, to get some breakfast for herself. Bumming it like this was something new for her. She didn’t even have a tent, just a sleeping bag and the open air. Her body was sore, both from spending so much time riding the giant horse Kevin, and from sleeping on the ground, but it wasn’t so bad. She actually kind of liked it.

“Lucy, I was wondering…” said Kevin.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any chocolate?”

“Chocolate? Not with me,” Lucy replied, mouth half-full of apple. “Why? Do you want some?”

“Well I was thinking… Mingmerangs love chocolate. At least, I do. Chocolate is my favorite thing to eat. And I was thinking that, because Mingmerangs are sometimes shy, unfriendly even… it might be a good idea to bring a gift.”

“A gift never hurts. But where do we get chocolate around here?”

“There is a town at the bottom of this hill, down in the valley. They should have a convenience store. Do you have money?”

“I do.”

“I can take you closer to the town. It’s a little risky, but I think it will help us. It’s worth trying at least.”

“Okay,” Lucy laughed. “It’s funny that you like chocolate. I would’ve thought it was something a lot weirder, like squid or tapioca.”

“Squid is not bad, but chocolate… Chocolate is an incredible food.”

Kevin seemed to feel strongly about this.

“Do you have a preference? Dark chocolate, chocolate with nuts? Caramel?”

“No preference. As long as it’s chocolate, it will be good. Hopefully the other Mingmerang thinks so too.”

The other Mingmerang… What would they be like? How similar would they be to Kevin? Lucy was struck by how normal she and Kevin seemed to be carrying on, after only meeting just yesterday. This wonderful, strange being, that nobody else on Earth knew anything else about – they were now companions, it was telling her that its favorite food was chocolate, and it was a baseball enjoyer. Next it was going to tell her that its favorite TV show was Friends and it was a big fan of Jerry Seinfeld.

“How close are we to the shrine, anyway?” Lucy inquired, tearing off a piece of bread.

“It’s on the other side of the town here, just across the valley,” Kevin answered. “We’re very close. I think we will find the Mingmerang there… I can sense it.”

“You can sense it? Like, you can detect its presence?”

“Yes. I can feel it.”

“Cool…” Lucy stored this fact along with the other facts she had acquired about Kevin, such as “once spent 300 years as a blue whale” and “feeds off of radiation” in the new section of her brain dedicated to him.

After she had finished eating, Kevin took her farther down the hill. They were careful to avoid any lurking humans, and ran into no one on the way.

“You will have to walk from here,” he said, setting her down. “Go down the hill until you find the road, turn right and follow it. Soon you will come to the town.”

“Got it. I’ll be quick.”

“I will wait for you here… And thanks for doing this.”

“No problem. This is what I came along for,” said Lucy, flashing Kevin a rosy smile. “Wish me luck!”

Wiggle’s World

Lucy set off for the town, descending the hill briskly. She soon hit the road and turned right, making a mental note of the exact spot where she had left the forest. She walked along the road for a while, passing an abandoned house, a few side roads, before eventually reaching a small settlement nestled down in the valley. A river ran through and split the town in half, with a bridge joining it together.

A car passed by. The driver, an older woman, was eyeing Lucy curiously. Lucy realized she must have looked peculiar, walking out here alone, and being somewhat dirty and disheveled from sleeping in the woods. She tried to tidy herself up a bit.

She saw there was a convenience store on the corner near the center of the town, by the bridge. It was called Wiggle’s World. It was a strange name for a convenience store, but the gas pumps, the glass doors and energy drink advertisements were unmistakable.

Approaching the store, Lucy happened to glance at the stack of papers on a rack by the front door. She picked one up and started reading. On the front page: “Anchoridge Watermelon Festival Will Be Biggest Yet.” Anchoridge, that must be the name of this town… thought Lucy. She scanned the article, flipped through the pages. Local dam under construction, interview with local businessperson… nothing very interesting. And then, on page 6, something caught Lucy’s eye.

“Hillston man claims extra-terrestrial sighting.” As Lucy read the title, her heart skipped a beat. She continued…

Carl Green, 62, a Hillston farmer and resident, reported yesterday that he had seen “an enormous alien” while he was out hunting yesterday evening.

“I was out on the west side of Ram’s Peak, buck huntin’, when I saw a woman layin’ down on the ground. She didn’t look hurt or anything, but I asked if she was alright, and she looked confused, said she weren’t lost – and then I looked over, and I saw it. It was huge… a giant alien thing. It was blue, and had… strange eyeballs all over it. It must have been twenty feet tall. And it ran over to me and grabbed the girl. I shot it with my gun. I swear to God I saw it, clear as day.”

Mr. Green claims that the creature took the woman, described as young and blonde, and ran off into the forest, adding that he tried to shoot it. “I tried to stop it. I shot it with my shotgun but it just kept runnin’. I know I hit it. It’s kidnapped that girl! We gotta’ do somethin’!

Mr. Green’s claims are being investigated by local authorities. Currently, no other sightings have yet been reported. No one has yet been confirmed missing.

Lucy couldn’t believe what she was reading. They had already made it to the paper? She took the copy of The Anchoridge Times and stuffed it into her backpack. She had been correctly described as young and blonde. Would anyone suspect her of being the kidnapped woman? She thought again about how wild she looked right now. She wanted to turn around and get out of town. But she had a mission. She had to get Kevin his chocolate.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy pushed through the glass doors of Wiggle’s World. A bell chimed, and she was met with a cool wall of air-conditioning. She looked over to the register, where a middle-aged man stood, counting money in the drawer. He looked up at her and nodded, saying, “Welcome, miss.” Lucy smiled back.

Lucy didn’t want to spend too much time in here. She grabbed more water, trail mix, and then, all the chocolate she could carry. Peanut butter cup, caramel nougat, dark chocolate, white, milk. She had 8 different chocolate treats, of all kinds, and threw in a small chocolate cake for good measure. There had to be something in this pile the Mingmerang would like.

She brought her haul up to the counter. Please don’t ask me any questions, Lucy pleaded to the universe.

“Hi,” said Lucy, taking the goods out of her bag and placing them on the counter.

“How are ya today, ma’am?” said the man, grabbing her things and scanning them.

“Fine,” said Lucy.

“Got a sweet tooth, do ya darlin’?” the man said, looking up at her as he swiped the Mullhoney Dream Bar over the scanner.

“Oh yeah, can’t get enough sweets!” replied Lucy, letting out a small laugh.

The man now directed his scanner gun to the chocolate cake, the Yum-O.

“These are my favorite, right here.”

“Yeah, they’re so good!”

Please stop talking to me, thought Lucy.

“Alright honey, that’ll be $27.45…”

Lucy brought out her purse, and as she counted the money, she could tell the man was looking her over, sizing her up. She wanted to get out of there ASAP.

“Here you are,” she said, handing him the money. He rang up the change, and handed it back to her, and said, “Thank you very much.”

Lucy was now stuffing the change and all the chocolate into her bag, ready to turn and walk away. The man now looked right at her.

“Are you just passin’ through?”

Oh no… Lucy’s heart sank.

“Yes, I’m headed to the coast to go surfing with some friends!” She lied.

“Ah, there’s great surfing around here…”

She had finished packing up and was ready to turn and leave.

“I know, it’s one of my favorite spots. Well, thanks so much!” She was turning towards the door now. The man was still giving her an inquisitive look.

“Where ya comin’ from, if you don’t mind my askin’?”

Please let me go.

“Rookvale.” Lucy lied again.

“Rookvale, huh? Nice town…”

“Yes, well I really have to go, I’m already late!” She was headed to the door now.

“Miss!” the man called out.

Lucy turned back to him.

“Yes?”

He stil looked at her with that inquisitive, almost knowing look.

“You be careful around here, alright? I just read somethin’ in the papers this mornin’… something’s going on in the mountains. Said a young woman had been kidnapped by an alien or something. A young blonde woman…”

Lucy’s heart was pounding in her chest now.

“Oh… haha… really?” She stammered, laughing nervously. “That’s… terrible! Thank you for telling me! Well, I’ll be careful, bye now!”

And she turned and left Wiggle’s World as fast as she possibly could without breaking into a run.

Lucy now speedwalked out of town. She was back on the road, desperate to get back to the woods. That man suspected her, all right.

She knew she was overreacting a bit. Who would ever believe someone without proof? She could deny everything, if anybody even bothered to question her. Carl Green’s words were empty without proof, without a second testimony. But she had never been a good liar. She did not want to be interrogated by anyone. And she knew that even if no one believed Carl Green, and just thought he was cracked up, seeking attention… She knew his words were true.

On the way back to where Lucy had entered the road, two cars passed by. They made her nervous. She was half-expecting to see a police car coming for her, and she checked over her shoulder frequently, ready to jump into the woods at any moment. She would’ve walked in the woods alongside the road, but she just wanted to go as quick as possible. And she didn’t want to miss her mark.

Finally, Lucy was back where she had entered the road. She ducked into the forest and started climbing up. Once she knew she was far enough away from the road, she started to periodically call for Kevin. Eventually he called back, and came walking to her, through the trees.

“How did it go?” asked Kevin, when he had reached her.

“They’re onto us, Kevin!” Lucy gushed. “We’re in the newspaper. That stupid hunter guy…” Lucy immediately felt bad for saying that. He was understandably freaked out, and worried about her.

“Really? How do you know?”

“I saw it. I read the article, down in the town. I have it in my bag, if you want to read it.”

“Okay,” said Kevin. “Can you read it to me?”

Lucy pulled the paper out of her bag and read the article again to Kevin.

“I see…” he replied, once she had finished.

“At least it wasn’t on the front page,” Lucy said.

“Yes. Most people won’t believe him. I doubt anyone will suddenly come looking for us. But we’ve got to be careful now. We can’t… I can’t get caught again.”

Lucy looked at the Mingmerang with sadness and compassion. She felt for him. He… It was right to be wary. The humans would not be kind to him. Lucy was, and some people would be, but not the state. Not the general mass of society. If Kevin was discovered, his life as a free Mingmerang would most likely be over. He would be subjected to lab experiments and scientific testing, locked in a vault… who knew what the government would do with him. He knew that all too well.

“We should wait here for the rest of the day, I think. We will only move at night. We don’t have far to go now, just to the top of the hill on the other side of town.”

Lucy nodded. They both sat down. She was tired from all the walking, the riding, the sleeping on the ground, and being awake all night. She reached into her pack and pulled out a water bottle.

“I got the chocolate,” said Lucy. She took out the variety of candy bars and treats, and spread them out in front of her. Kevin moved over to look at them.

“This is great, Lucy! You even got Yum-Os!” He was pleased.

“Your Mingmerang friend has some good options, here,” Lucy said with a laugh. She tossed her backpack behind her to use as a pillow and laid back against it.

What would the other Mingmerang be like? Lucy wondered. Would it talk to her? Should she even reveal herself? Kevin hadn’t said anything about that.

“Hey Kevin… Do you think the other Mingmerang will want to see me, or do you think you should go alone? Seeing as you don’t want to be seen by people…”

Kevin nodded. “Yes, I’ve thought about that. I think it’s alright if you’re there with me. I want the other Mingmerang to know why I’ve come. I will explain to it. And it might be interested in talking to you.”

“What do you think it will be like? Have you met before?”

“We have met, yes. We have shared some information. That is generally what Mingmerangs do when they meet. We don’t seek each other out, though. We mostly try to stay out of each other’s way.”

“Interesting,” said Lucy, leaning back, looking up at the sky. “So you really aren’t very… socially oriented, are you? But you are a good companion, and sociable with me.”

“That’s true. Mostly I am mirroring your own way of being, which is social. This is how I act with all creatures.”

“You know Kevin… you’re fascinating,” Lucy was looking at Kevin now, again taking him in with real amazement in her eyes.

“Thank you,” replied Kevin, laughing his short, dry laugh.

“But you have your own thoughts and… feelings, of course, right? Such as your desire to be able to transform yourself again.”

“Yes. I have intrinsic desires and motivations like all other beings.”

“So what else do you desire?”

“You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to…” Lucy quickly added, feeling that she might have overstepped and was now prying a little too much.

“No, that’s okay.” Kevin laughed. It was strange to hear him laugh, as he had no real mouth or lips. He made the sound, his laugh was real, but accompanied by no facial expression. Talking to him was kind of like talking with someone through a walkie-talkie, and Kevin was just a giant transmitter. But it was him speaking, it seemed, and it was his voice… Right?

“I have desires,” Kevin went on. “I want to live the life of a bird, of different kinds of birds, flying, hunting, singing as they do… for days, weeks, years I can go on like this. And then, one day, I want to be a badger. And I will be a badger, and explore life as a badger, digging, sniffing, clawing. Then I’ll want to be a bat, then a horse, a bird again, a squirrel…”

Lucy was watching the branches of the trees sway back and forth in the light breeze. Every now and then she flicked off an ant crawling along her arm, or waved away a fly.

“You said that you were a bird before you went back to this state – the state you’re in now.”

“I was a bulbul. There are many of them around. I’m sure you saw me flying around the baseball field in front of your house.”

Lucy reflected on this fact, that she had already laid eyes on Kevin before, that he had just been one of the birds in the woods around the house, and yet he was not really a bird. She had never known, and would have never known, had she not seen him like this. It was a strange feeling.

“How many Mingmerang do you think there are on Earth?”

“That’s a good question. I really have no idea. There can’t be that many, though.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” said Kevin. “I think I would have found them by now.”

Throughout the conversation, Lucy’s fascination with Kevin, the Mingmerang, only grew. He was more and more amazing with each question she asked him. Now, could he really shapeshift? That’s what she wanted to see, more than anything. She decided to stop interrogating him for now, and mulled over his answers. She still had so many more questions. There would be time to ask more.

Lucy started to become drowsy again. It was so peaceful, being in the woods.

Daylight was still filtering through the leaves above when Lucy woke up. She opened her eyes to green and brightness, and looked over to see if Kevin was still where he had been when she fell asleep. He hadn’t moved an inch, sitting upright and leaning against a tree trunk, with his legs straight out in front of him like fallen logs. He didn’t seem to notice that Lucy was awake.

“Kevin,” said Lucy to the Mingmerang.

Kevin didn’t respond.

“Kevin?”

Lucy stood up and walked over to Kevin, standing in front of his face. He didn’t move.

Was he asleep?

Lucy put her hand on his leg. He was cool and rubbery to the touch. She gave him a gentle push.

“Hey..!” She whispered.

Suddenly, Kevin straightened himself up and looked at Lucy.

“Oh! I didn’t see you…”

“Were you zoning out again?” Lucy asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” said Kevin, looking around now. “But… It seems something is going on with me. I don’t usually do this…”

“You don’t usually sleep, right? Or you said, sometimes you go into a trance?” Lucy was looking up into his face with concern, and couldn’t help but notice the strangeness of the large colored orb in his head. She hadn’t examined it so closely before. It seemed to be made of thousands of tiny fibers, like spools of yarn.

“I don’t, hardly ever. Historically for me they have been few and far between. But now I seem to be going into trances… quite often.”

“I feel strange, now,” he continued. “Since I’ve lost my power.”

Lucy didn’t like the way he was talking, she didn’t like that he seemed to be taking a turn for the worse.

“We’ll talk to the other Mingmerang. They must know something.”

“I hope so…”

The Other Mingmerang

They waited until sunset. In a few hours, the light had faded from the sky, and it was night had settled once more. Lucy was eager and nervous to meet another Mingmerang. What would it be like? What would it think of her?

“Well, I think it’s dark enough,” Kevin said, getting up. “Let’s get going.”

“I’m ready,” said Lucy, grabbing her things.

Kevin put Lucy back on his shoulders, and started off. They skirted the edge of the mountain for a while, before starting to descend. Eventually, they came to the road that Lucy had walked along earlier. Kevin stopped at the road, looking for cars, before crossing the road in two enormous bounds. They were in more forest, dark and silent, and then, they reached the bottom of the valley. There was a river running through it, wide and rocky.

“The shrine is just on the other side of this river,” said Kevin. “At the top of the hill.”

“Okay,” replied Lucy.

“The Mingmerang is close. I can feel it.”

“That’s good. How will we cross this river?”

“It’s not that deep. We can walk across.”

Kevin climbed down the bank, picking his way through the large, jagged rock, and then ran across the river, making huge splashes. The water sparkled in the moonlight, the droplets catching the light and glittering like diamonds. Lucy was hardly wet at all when they reached the other side of the bank. Kevin walked up out of the riverbed and entered the forest again.

“Kevin,” said Lucy, as they marched up the hill.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking… is there anything specific I should do or say when we meet the other Mingmerang? Seeing as they don’t want to be seen by humans… I wonder how it will take to my presence.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I will talk to it first. And have the chocolate ready.”

“Got it.”

“We are very close now.”

Lucy and Kevin stepped out of the pines and into an open space. They had come to a long, wide stone staircase. It went in both directions, up and down the hill, disappearing into darkness. Lucy could see the night sky in the gap between the trees above.

“The shrine is at the top,” said Kevin.

“Thank God you are doing all this climbing, and not me,” muttered Lucy.

Kevin started up the stairs, taking five or six at a time. Soon Lucy could make out two vague statues up before them, flanking the entrance to the shrine. A nervous anticipation was building inside of her, now. One Mingmerang was enough for a lifetime, but if there really were more…

They had reached the top of the stairs, and were now on level ground. Once they were close enough, Lucy examined the statues. They were crumbled, but intact enough that she could tell they were mice – one standing on hind legs, one down on all fours. Kevin walked past the mouse guardians and into the shrine.

Everything was bathed in moonlight. The buildings of the shrine were all dilapidated, and the largest building, in the center, was halfway a ruin, with broken wooden stairs, and a caved in roof. Flanking the path were two more mouse statues, carved out of stone, crumbled and worn. The entire place had an eerie, neglected vibe, and held a mysterious energy – and yet, it wasn’t sinister. It felt like they had stumbled upon the ruins of a lost civilization.

Kevin gently set Lucy down on the ground. She was glad to be on her own legs again.

“Follow me,” he said, quietly.

Kevin now walked up to the broken building in the center of the grounds, stopping a bit before it, with Lucy close behind. Then, Kevin made a sound. It was garbled and watery. Lucy jumped at first, not knowing what it was or who was making it – but she quickly realized that it was coming from Kevin. He was speaking.

For a moment after Kevin spoke, there was silence. Then, Lucy noticed a small creature slinking out from underneath the ruins of the shrine. After it had come out from its hiding place, it seemed to stretch itself out, rearing up its hind legs and arching its back. It had sleek fur that shimmered in the light. The creature then waltzed around to the shrine steps, and walked up a few, before sitting down and turning to face them.

It was a cat.

The cat was orange – its eyes flashed in the moonlight. It was looking directly at Lucy, with a piercing gaze, scrutinizing her. It blinked slowly, flicked its tail, and turned its bright eyes on Kevin.

Lucy glanced over at Kevin and waited, hardly daring to breathe, wondering what would happen next. The stars twinkled above, thousands of tiny gleaming gems. For a moment, they all waited, cat, woman, and Mingmerang – silent, sizing each other up.

And then, the cat spoke.

It made the same kinds of garbled, mangled sounds that had just come out of Kevin’s communication organ. Lucy had expected this – unless they were going to use telepathy, they would have to talk somehow, and she didn’t think they would use English – but that didn’t make it any less surreal, watching the cat move its mouth, hearing the strange sounds it was making. It was amazing. She was hearing the language of the Mingmerangs.

Lucy couldn’t understand any of what the Mingmerangs were saying to each other, but if she could, this is what she would have heard:

“You! What are you doing, walking around like that? Why have you come here? And with a human? What could you be thinking?”

The cat again flashed its bright eyes at Lucy. Kevin spoke again, in the same watery language.

“I know it’s unusual. This is not by choice.”

“Do you want us to be hunted? To be persecuted?” The cat said sharply.

“No. Listen… I’m sorry that we are bothering you. But… I have a problem.”

“And what is your problem?”

“I… cannot transform anymore.”

The cat was silent for a moment. It kept its eyes on Kevin.

“What does that have to do with her? Why is she with you? Why did you bring her?”

“She found me like this. She means no harm.”

“It is not wise.” The cat flicked its tail again. “It is much better that humans are not meddling in our affairs.”

“I know,” said Kevin.

The cat looked displeased.

“We brought some gifts for you,” said Kevin.

This entire time Lucy had been standing silent, mouth agape, marveling at what she was seeing and hearing. Two sentient beings, two non-human sentient beings, having a conversation, right here in front of her. Five days ago she would not have ever believed, in a million years, that she would be witnessing such a thing. And here it was happening.

Kevin now turned to Lucy and spoke in English.

“Give it the chocolate.”

She had been ready for this. Lucy sat down her bag and opened it, taking out the collection of chocolate goodies, the Yum-Os and the Chocolate Whingwangs and all the rest, and walked slowly up to the cat. The large orange cat had turned its eyes on Lucy, unblinking, watching her in the dark. She laid the pile of treats down in front of it, somewhat wishing that they had a better presentation.

“You,” the cat now spoke to her, its eyes nearly level with hers’. It had a voice like an old woman’s, raspy and throaty.

“You are not afraid of us?”

“No. Not really,” Lucy answered. “I mean, I was at first, a little bit. But not anymore. I think you are amazing.”

“Have you told anyone about us?”

“No,” said Lucy. “No one would believe me anyway.”

The cat held Lucy’s gaze for a moment longer, before stepping gingerly down the crumbling wooden stairs. It was investigating the candy. It sniffed and pawed at the pile, whiskers touching the candy wrappers. It seemed to be reading the labels.

“You have brought me good snacks…” The second Mingmerang said.

Kevin spoke again in the warbled, gutteral Mingmerang language.

“So you like chocolate too?”

“Yes. Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

The cat sat down again. It looked up at Kevin.

“You said that you cannot change yourself anymore?”

“That’s right. Not since four nights ago now.”

“Hmm…”

“Do you know what it means?” asked Kevin. “Has this ever happened to you?”

“No.” The cat spoke slowly now, and turned its gaze back to the pile of chocolate. “It has never happened to me. But I have heard something about it before, from another Mingmerang.”

“What did it say?”

“Well… You may not like the answer.”

Kevin didn’t reply. The cat continued.

“It told me that when a Mingmerang stops being able to change itself… it means that it will die soon.”

Kevin did not immediately reply. The cat flicked its eyes back up at him.

“I see…” He said at last.

“This is just what I have heard. I do not know if it’s true or not.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Perhaps you will not die. Perhaps it’s something else. There are many mysteries with us…”

The cat looked like any regular ol’ ginger cat, the plainest cat in the world, and yet it was talking like that.

“So there are. Do you remember your conception?”

“Not really. I remember there was a flash, and a roar. It was as if I had exploded into being. And I remember there were many of us.”

“That is what I remember, too.”

The orange cat now turned its head to the sky, gazing at the stars above.

“Who knows where we come from?”

Neither of the Mingmerangs spoke now.

Lucy listened as they talked, studying the sounds of the language, the warbled speech. She was captivated by their strange language, and could only imagine what they were talking about. She hoped that Kevin would tell her everything.

“The human… what is she like?” said the cat.

“She is interesting,” replied Kevin. “A curious one. Not afraid, as she said.”

“What does she think of you?”

“I think she feels pity for me. And thinks that I am a mythical creature.”

The cat made a weird garble that might have been a laugh. It turned to Lucy, and spoke to her in English again.

“What is your name?”

“Lucy.”

“Lucy… Thank you for the chocolate.”

“You’re welcome. It was Kevin’s idea,” she replied, gesturing with her head towards Kevin.

“Who is Kevin? You mean this Mingmerang?”

“Yeah, I named him Kevin. Do you have a name?”

The cat seemed amused.

“No. There is an old man who comes to this shrine. To him, I am Mango.”

“Mango, huh? That’s not what I would call you… Well, are you able to help Kevin?”

“No. There is nothing I can do for him.”

“Damn…”

And then, Lucy couldn’t help herself. She had to ask – this could be the only chance she would ever get.

“Mango… I know that I’m a human, and I hope it isn’t rude of me to ask this, but if you wouldn’t mind… Could you transform for me?”

“Ah. You want to see that, do you?”

“I really would… if it’s not a big deal, for you…”

“It is like breathing,” replied the cat, now walking down the steps. It sauntered right up to Lucy, was only feet away from her, looking her right in the eyes.

“Ready? Watch.”

But Lucy didn’t have to be told to watch. Nothing could have made her look away from the large orange cat in front of her. She had no idea what she was about to see. She was almost afraid. She had been trying to imagine what it could possibly look like, to see a creature morph itself into another, if it was instantaneous, or happened gradually…

The cat before her started to glow. It was happening. Rapidly, the glow increased to a fiery brightness, and the shape of the cat started to change, become formless and loose, and then in a flash, just a second or less, a new shape emerged, longer, larger, taller – the glow faded, as quickly as it had come. Lucy gasped.

“Oh… my… God…”

Where there had been mere seconds before a ginger cat, there was a cat no more. Lucy was now looking into the eyes of a large, brown owl. The owl’s enormous eyes shone in the moonlight.

“Impressed?” said the owl, moving its beak. It flapped its feathery wings, making hardly a sound.

Lucy had put a hand to her mouth. She was in a state of complete disbelief.

“You… You can really do it…”

“Of course I can,” replied the owl.

“How do you do it?” Lucy whispered. She couldn’t help but ask, fully aware it was a stupid question.

The owl hooted in amusement.

“Do you want me to teach you, then?”

“Can I? I can’t… of course.”

“No, you can’t. I couldn’t tell you how we do it. We just do.”

Kevin was watching them silently. Lucy hoped this wasn’t making him upset.

“Does your natural form look like Kevin’s?” she asked the owl.

The owl turned its head to look at Kevin.

“Yes… something like that.”

It looked back at Lucy.

“You want to see that too, of course…”

Lucy nodded.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, you’ve seen this much…”

The owl suddenly spread its wings and swooped over to Kevin’s side. It was amazing how quiet it was when it moved. And then, again the bright glow of light came, the shape of the owl seeming to melt, dissolving, but this time the shape expanded enormously, exploding out to become the same size and form as Kevin, the Mingmerang right next to it. The light faded, and there, side by side, were two Mingmerangs. There were two Kevins.

The second Mingmerang was an exact copy of Kevin. Lucy couldn’t tell any difference between them. And now, this confirmed the fact, seen with her very own eyes, that not only was there one giant magical shapeshifter creature on Earth, that just four days ago she would have never dreamed of existing, but there were more. That there were at least two, and if what they were saying was true, there were more. Kevin, the Mingmerangs… They were part of a race. They were a species.

“Holy crap…” said Lucy.

“Looks just like me, doesn’t it?” said Kevin.

“I can’t tell the difference.”

But there was some difference, Lucy noticed. The number and location of the colored orbs between the two seemed to be somewhat different. It wasn’t obvious, but she thought that could just tell them apart, that way.

The Mingmerangs faced each other for a moment. It was something unusual for them, too, to be together like this. And then, the second Mingmerang glowed, there was a flash of light, and there was a ginger cat again, the same ginger cat it had been when it first crawled out from under the dilapidated shrine.

The cat walked back over to the shrine steps and climbed them again, sitting down to face them once more.

“You are one of the only humans to have ever seen such a thing,” it said to Lucy. “Perhaps the only one.”

“Thank you…” Was all she could manage to reply, and for some reason found herself making a small bow to the cat.

“Thank you,” said Kevin as well, to the other Mingmerang.

“It is no problem,” replied the other Mingmerang.

Kevin turned to Lucy, and held out a hand, signaling it was time to leave.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Lucy nodded, and stepped into his gelatinous grip, allowing herself to be lifted up again.

“This is something new for me to see, too,” said the other Mingmerang. “A human and a Mingmerang, together…”

“Thank you for talking with us,” said Kevin, now speaking the gutteral language of the Mingmerangs.

“Good luck to you,” replied the cat.

They had turned to leave, when Lucy looked over her shoulder at the other Mingmerang, who was now laying down, licking its face and cleaning itself.

“Goodbye, Mango!” she called to it.

“Goodbye, Lucy.”

Kevin left the grounds of the shrine the same way they had come in. The other Mingmerang watched them until they were down the stairs. Lucy had looked back again and watched it, lounging on the steps, tail waving in the air, until it disappeared from view.

Going Home

Kevin walked down the steps in silence. Lucy was still thinking about what she had just seen. It was magic. A shapeshifter… A transformation, from cat, to owl, to Mingmerang, right before her very eyes. So that’s what Kevin should be able to do; that was his power. She wanted now more than ever to help him unlock his ability once more.

Lucy was eager to know what the other Mingmerang had said, but she knew that it hadn’t been able to say much. It had told her that there was nothing it could do for Kevin. She waited for Kevin to speak first, but he remained silent as they continued down the stone steps, six at a time. Finally, when they had left the steps and were headed back through the forest, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Kevin,” said Lucy.

“Yes?”

“What did the other Mingmerang say? Did it have any advice for you?”

“It did not have much to say.”

“Hmm.”

“It said that it had never experienced what I’m experiencing. But it did have a theory about what’s happening to me.”

“Really?”

“It said that it had heard from another Mingmerang that, if a Mingmerang finds that it is unable to change itself, it means that that Mingmerang is going to die.”

“What? Die?”

“Yes, that’s what it said.”

“Why? Why would you die?”

“I don’t know why. It didn’t say. And it may not be true,” said Kevin. He was silent for a moment, before continuing.

“But, I have not been myself lately. Since finding myself like this. As you know…”

“Is there nothing you can do about it?” asked Lucy.

“You mean as if to stop myself from dying?”

“Yes. I mean, do you have a disease or something? Is there a way to cure it, or fix yourself?”

Lucy was grasping for something, hoping for anything that they could work with that could be used to help Kevin.

“No, it didn’t know anything more,” he replied.

This was not what Lucy had expected to hear. She had thought the other Mingmerang would suggest eating a rare food, perhaps visiting a sacred place, doing a special dance and chanting some magic words, or that it just wouldn’t have any clue. But she never thought it would say that Kevin was dying. She felt terrible.

“Well – it could be wrong.” she said, not fully believing her words.

“It could be,” Kevin said.

Lucy had just gotten to know Kevin. She had just started to feel comfortable with him and all his strangeness. And now he was going to die? It didn’t seem right.

It was hard for Lucy to gauge how Kevin, being self-reported 300 million years old, was feeling about his possible death. Had he already suspected it? Did he even have feelings? Did he have emotions? He said once that he was “mirroring” her. What did death mean for a being like him?

They had now reached the bottom of the hill by the river.

“I think we should go back now,” said Kevin. “I have to take you home, and it’s a good place for me to stay hidden. I know those woods well.”

Lucy really didn’t want to go back like this, in failure.

“Shouldn’t we try and find another Mingmerang? They may know something more,” Lucy suggested.

“I would rather not risk it. This was risky enough. I do not want to be discovered and plagued by humans. And, I know of no other Mingmerangs around.”

They were now running through the river, splashing through the silvery water, the stars reflecting in the water. The air in the valley was cool and refreshing. Then, they crossed the road and entered the forest again. Kevin began to ascend, seeming to be taking the same route back.

They climbed in silence. The woods were dark. Lucy could hardly see. Kevin must have superior night vision, she thought. He has never so much as stumbled in the dark.

By the time the sky started to turn the lightest bit of gray, they had made it up into the mountains. They settled at a rocky, flattened space enclosed in trees. Lucy was eager to get some sleep. The fly-by-night roughing it was taking a toll on her. She was still good on food and water, having replenished her supply at Wiggle’s World, and would be fine for the next few days. And of course, Kevin seemed to be fine, never seeming to need rest or sustenance. Like a perfect machine.

She slept for much of the day. Kevin sat nearby as usual, quiet, unmoving as a statue. Lucy thought when he sat like this he looked like some kind of modern, living art sculpture. He was fascinating to look at.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asked.

This time Kevin replied immediately.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Are you meditating?”

“Something like that.”

Lucy rolled back over on her back, looking up at the treetops and watching the sparrows flit around.

“Kevin, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Well, I’m wondering… What do you think about death?”

Kevin did not seem troubled by the question.

“Death is the opposite of life. I have seen many things come and go. I have always known that someday I would do the same. Though I have wondered how and when, and sometimes even if, I would die,” Kevin said.

“It is a natural thing. Of course I don’t necessarily want to stop existing. I do like it here on Earth.”

“So you are not afraid of death?” Lucy asked.

“No. I am not afraid of it.”

“Well, I hope that I can be as calm as you about my own death.”

A gust of wind parted the roof of trees, revealing a cloudy sky.

“Are you afraid to die?” Kevin now asked Lucy.

She thought about it.

“Well, not now. I’m young… I don’t think about it much. But I know that I will, someday. And I don’t want to die yet.”

“That is natural,” Kevin replied.

“What have been some of your favorite memories, in your life? I know you must have some good ones.”

“It is a lot to remember,” Kevin said with a laugh. “I remember periods of time. What you call the ‘Ice Age’ was quite interesting. Everything was covered in snow and ice. I wondered if it would ever end.”

“It is amazing to watch the different organisms grow and evolve over time. The diversity and adaptability of life on this planet is astounding. And it has been particularly fascinating to see your evolution, as humans. There has never been anything like you on this planet, since I’ve been here. And in such a short period of time… You have done so much. Where are you headed? What is next for you? I would like know.”

“What do you think is next for us?” Lucy felt as if she were talking to a living history book.

“It is hard to say. You are a singular species. What new technologies will you invent? What new powers will you unlock? And what will happen with the Earth? You have proven that you are capable. You could make it beyond the stars, and the galaxy could be your domain, if it is possible.”

Lucy reflected over Kevin’s words.

“I want to know about where you come from,” she said, turning on her side and propping herself up on one elbow to look at Kevin.

“So do I,” said the Mingmerang.

“Do you think there are more of you out there? In space?”

“I think there could be. I don’t think we started on this planet. But how we got here on Earth, how we came to be, I don’t know.”

“Do you have any theories?”

Kevin was quiet for a moment, before replying.

“I have no real information to form anything but conjecture with. I often think we have been placed here to scout and observe the happenings of this planet. It would explain our tendencies to desire knowledge, to study our surroundings, and to remain hidden. To be unobtrusive. I sometimes feel as if I will be called upon someday, to make a report to another intelligence. To our creators, or to other Mingmerangs, possibly.”

Lucy imagined what it would be like to be a sentient being, like herself or Kevin, and not know your own story. Not know your role, your place, or your purpose. At least humans had each other, had a human story. The Mingmerangs seemed not to know exactly where they came from or what they belonged to. They didn’t know what they were meant for.

They talked more, until dusk. Kevin never seemed to get tired of answering Lucy’s questions. She felt that she wanted to learn as much as she possibly could about him. She learned that Kevin could “see” in 360 degrees, that he absorbed a range of wavelengths of light, that he was perceptive to vibrations, and was perfect at calculating. When Lucy had asked him what 9183 cubed was, he replied instantaneously: “774,379,331,487”. Not that she could confirm that was correct, but Kevin was confident about it, and it sounded right. The more she learned about him, the more extraordinary he became, and the more strongly she hoped that what the other Mingmerang had said wasn’t true.

They crossed over the range, that second night of their return. It was raining, lightly at first, then quite heavily. Kevin stuck to cover as much as he could, but by the end Lucy was soaked and cold. She had the foresight to bring a poncho, and it helped – but it wasn’t perfect. She was also getting tired of eating trail mix, crackers, and bread. She wanted a hot meal. She was looking forward to getting home.

That night passed uneventfully, and so did the next. Lucy recognized the land when they started to descend the last mountain. It had been six full nights since they embarked on their quest. The moon was now about halfway waned. Lucy was anxious to take a hot shower and sleep in her bed, thinking that any minute now Kevin would set her down and tell her they were back. Finally, he stopped walking. They had come to the trail behind the house that Lucy had walked down when she first found Kevin.

“We’re back,” he said, setting Lucy down on the trail. “You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah,” she replied, yawning and stretching her body. “I am.”

“What will you do now?” she asked Kevin.

“I plan to go up on the hill,” he said, pointing to the top of the trail. “And wait.”

Lucy was sad, and wished she could do more for the Mingmerang. She had tried to come up with any new idea, but no luck.

“How have you been feeling?”

“Well,” Kevin spoke heavily. “I am slowing down, I think. My energy is waning.”

“I’ll keep thinking about what you could try…” she offered.

Kevin seemed to sense that Lucy was trying to make him feel better.

“Do not worry about me, Lucy. I will be okay.”

“Can I visit you?”

“Of course.”

She felt strange parting ways after having spent the last week together. It felt like she would never see him again.

“I feel bad leaving you alone here…” she said.

“Don’t worry. I’m not lonely. Now go get some sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Kevin.”

Lucy waved goodbye to the giant blue Mingmerang, and turned on her flashlight. She walked back up the trail to the house. She barely made it up the stairs, and was half-asleep as she stripped off all her dirty clothes, threw them on the floor, and was unconscious before her head hit the pillow.

The Event

The sun was already high in the sky when Lucy woke up. She felt like she had never had a deeper sleep in her life. Her body still ached, and she had no intention of getting out of bed. But she was thirsty and she desperately wanted to shower. Soft light came in through the windows. The sky was grey.

Lucy laid there for a while, unwilling to move, staring at the ceiling, at the sky through the window. It was weird to be in a familiar, normal place again, after what she had just been through. She almost felt like it hadn’t happened at all, that there had been no trip with Kevin, no other Mingmerang. Images flashed through her mind – the stars above the volcano, the look of shock on the hunter’s face, the convenience store, the other Mingmerang, transforming, like magic…

Lucy was finding it hard to tell herself that Kevin wasn’t dying. The signs seemed to suggest that he was.

She had just been wondering what she would tell Nilah when at that moment, there was a gentle knock at her door.

“Hello?” came a youthful, energetic voice. “Lucy?”

“Hey,” Lucy replied.

Nilah slid the door open. She was smiling, her familiar, wide smile, and scanned the room with her quick brown eyes, before locking eyes with Lucy.

“You’re back!” She said, happily.

“I’m back. Did you miss me?”

“Where did you go? You didn’t take your car? Did someone pick you up or what?” She noticed Lucy’s pile of dirty clothes.

“What, were you sleeping out in the woods or something?”

“Yeah, actually… I was!” Lucy laughed at her friend’s genuine surprise.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I know.”

“Did you go alone? You didn’t go alone, right?”

“Well… I made friends… along the way.”

Nilah stared at Lucy with a mixture of wonder and amusement.

“Look, I’ll tell you all about it later. Let me shower and get cleaned up, first.”

Nilah nodded and went to slide the door closed, before opening it again and saying, “Do you want me to make you something? Are you hungry?”

“That would be amazing,” she said. Lucy wanted Nilah gone now, and was eager to see her close the door and hear her footsteps on the stairs. She was asking too many questions too soon. Lucy sighed. She knew she could say just about anything to Nilah and she would believe it. Except for, of course, the truth. Who could ever believe such a thing? Even her best friend… Without proof… No one could know.

There was the news report. Lucy had the paper stuffed in her bag. And then, there was Kevin himself. She could take Nilah with her to meet him…

She would have to ask Kevin first. But… something about that didn’t feel right. Showing him off like he was a curio at a circus. And especially not under the circumstances.

Lucy couldn’t stand being grimy in her bed anymore. She forced herself out of bed and headed for the shower.

While blasting herself with hot water, scouring her body of the dirt and sweat, and pulling bits of leaf and pine needles out of her tangled hair, she cooked up the story that she would spin to satisfy Nilah. After soaping and scrubbing, brushing until the hot water started to become lukewarm, she got out, dried herself off, threw on some pajamas, her comfiest clothes, and went downstairs.

Nilah had already made her eggs and toast, and was setting out jelly and butter, saying, “Sorry, they’re a little cold now…” It was still the best thing Lucy had eaten in a week, and she savored every bite, while weaving her tale. Nilah was listening with rapt attention; she had decided to take a spontaneous backpacking trip on foot, ended up hitchhiking, staying with an old couple running a restaurant, at a motel, one night at a fancy hotel on the coast, then a surfing hostel… She threw in some spice and flourish, about a flat tire, getting lost, traipsing through the woods… When she had finished, Nilah was shaking her head in disbelief.

“You’re insane!” she laughed. “What an adventure! And you did it all on your own. You’re braver than me…”

That night, Lucy went to see Kevin again. She was half-worried that she wouldn’t be able to find him, that she would never see him again, or that he would be… and she wasn’t sure if this would be worse – that he would be dead. But neither of those were yet true, she was relieved to find out. He was on top of the hill adjacent to the house, a tall, steep hill that jutted up even higher than the surrounding land, covered in dense trees and shrubs. She picked her way through the trees and brush, flashlight in hand, wondering when she would catch a glimpse of him. He was at the top, well-hidden among the brush. No one would see him here, unless they were standing five feet away.

He could hear her coming, and called out to her. She tried not to get tangled up in anything, made it over to his side, and sat down next to him.

“My roommate doesn’t suspect a thing,” she told Kevin. “For all she knows I was on a surfing trip.”

“You didn’t tell her about me?” he asked. “I wondered if you would.”

“No. I won’t say anything. Unless, you want me to? Would you want to meet her?” ventured Lucy. She guessed that Kevin wouldn’t want to see anyone else, but half of her did want to share this secret with someone.

“What do you think she would say? If she saw me?”

“Oh, she would lose her mind. There’s no question about it,” Lucy replied, laughing at the thought. “She doesn’t need to know,” Lucy quickly added.

“Lucy,” Kevin seemed serious, now. “I think whatever happens with me, it will happen at the next full moon.”

“Really? What makes you say that?”

“Yes. That is what I feel.”

Lucy wanted to say something to console him.

“I was thinking,” said Lucy. “What if you are going to be recalled? As in, back to your people? Your creators or possibly other Mingmerangs? Maybe you’ll be beamed back up to the Mothership.”

Kevin gave a small laugh. “It could happen.”

Lucy studied Kevin for any hint of expression, but he showed none. His colorful orb-like organs glowed faintly in the dark. Eventually, he turned up to the sky.

“I’ll find out soon enough.”

Lucy visited Kevin every day since they had come back from their trip to see the other Mingmerang. And while she found ways to occupy her time – writing, wandering, hanging with Nilah, watching the birds flit across the fields, watching movies… She had a growing apprehension about what was in store for her Mingmerang friend. She could not think of much more to do for him. She was not even sure if her coming to see him helped, or was an annoyance to him, although he never would admit it if it was. He only seemed to become slower, more withdrawn and reticent, his responses less enthusiastic, shorter. She kept her eyes on the moon, watching it every night, as it shrunk, growing smaller and smaller, then disappeared, and slowly, gradually fattened again. She had never paid more attention to the giant rock in space than she did now.

Finally, it was the day of the full moon. That night, surely, something would be happening to her Mingmerang on the hill. Kevin had all but ceased his activity and behavior. He would not even respond to most of what Lucy said to him – the most she could get were hums of acknowledgment. She was so nervous about the night that Nilah asked her several times during the day, as she had in recent days, if everything was alright. “You seem tense…” She commented perceptively. Lucy had brushed it off, but she was tense. The ambiguity was the worst thing about it.

What would she be seeing? What could happen? What if Kevin exploded? What if a spaceship came flying down out of the sky? What if he just died, turned off, shut down, and stayed there on the hill? What would happen to his body? What if Kevin was taken away by who knows what, and they saw Lucy? Would she be taken too?

Lucy had some trepidation, yes. But her curiosity, and her feeling of companionship, for what she felt was a lonely being in a time of need… She would not abandon him now.

Summoning her courage, she went to meet him that night, at dusk. She tried not to show her nerves. She went to the usual spot, but was met with a surprise. Kevin wasn’t there.

Her heart stopped in her chest. Kevin hadn’t moved from that spot for weeks. Was he already gone? Lucy’s mind was racing. Did it happen already? Or, maybe he moved? But where would he have gone?

The sun was setting, the light fading rapidly from the sky. Lucy had abandoned secrecy, thrown caution to the wind now, frantically scanning the hillside, calling out, “Kevin! Kevin! Where are you?” And then she noticed… through a gap in the trees ahead, there was a silver glow. A faint, pulsating shimmer…

She moved closer, cautiously, to investigate. She stepped out from behind a tree, and peering through a bush, she saw a form, glowing softly, radiating light. Standing in the middle of a small clearing of trees was Kevin. He was facing upwards, tilted back.

Kevin had been right. It was happening tonight.

She wondered if it was even safe to approach. But she had to.

Stepping through the bush, Lucy walked into the clearing and approached Kevin. She was standing in front of him, craning her neck to look up at her towing, glowing Mingermang friend. He took no notice of her.

She wasn’t sure what to say, at first. Her words seemed stuck in her throat. Her eyes suddenly started to mist over. Then, she started to talk.

“Kevin… if this is the end… You are a magnificent being. Thank you for not hurting me, and for talking with me. I enjoyed spending time with you… I will never forget you… Goodbye…” She realized was crying. She stood there for a moment, her eyes wet with tears. And then, Lucy walked over to the edge of the clearing and sat down.

Kevin’s Gift

The sun was gone now. The sky was clear, the first stars had come out. And Kevin, slowly, imperceptibly, began to shimmer and glow brighter. His seemed to become more translucent, the spherical organs in his body becoming luminous gems. As the moon moved across the night sky, so Kevin grew brighter. Lucy watched, hardly taking her eyes off Kevin, her nervousness and anticipation mingled with wonder. She fully expected Kevin to disappear any second now, and leave her all alone.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, the moon was overhead. Lucy could see it though the opening in the trees above, it was directly above them, and Kevin was now completely white, emanating radiant light that was so bright Lucy had to squint to look at him. Particles of light seemed to coalesce around him, like fireflies… It was marvelous and beautiful… Lucy was crying again… And then she heard Kevin’s voice, as if it were incredibly far away now.

“Goodbye, Lucy…”

Tears were streaming down her face, she was squinting through them, waving goodbye. “Goodbye Mingmerang…” she whispered under her breath.

And then, the light went out.

Lucy knew that Kevin was gone.

She was openly bawling now, she didn’t know why. Through her tears, she could see that Kevin was gone… The clearing was empty…

“Goodbye Mingmerang!” she shouted now. Maybe, somehow, he could still hear her.

“Lucy!” said a voice beside her.

Lucy shot up in surprise.

“Oh my god!” she half-screamed.

“I’m still here!” said the voice.

Lucy looked down next to her, where the voice was coming from. There, standing amongst the leaves, she could just make out a small bird. It looked like a bulbul.

“Kevin??”

“Look!” cried the bird, joyously. It flapped its wings and took off, zooming circles happily in the air.

“You’re alive!” Lucy gasped, leaping up, clapping, as the little bird flew around her. She was smiling from ear to ear. After weaving and bobbing excitedly for a bit longer, the bird landed on the ground in front of her and started to glow. Within mere seconds, the shape rapidly rearranged itself, expanding rapidly, and suddenly the glow was gone. Standing there in place of the bird was a massive, gray wolf.

“Oh how I’ve missed that,” said the wolf, walking up to Lucy.

She instinctively scratched the wolf’s head, ran her hands through the thick fur. She was petting Kevin, the wolf.

“I – I thought you were gone… I thought you were…”

“I was sure I was,” said Kevin.

Kevin allowed Lucy to scratch him for a moment more, and then pulled away from her and moved over to the center of the clearing. There was something there. Kevin stood in front of it, and stared at it intently.

Lucy followed his gaze. She saw it now, taking a few steps forward. On the ground in front of Kevin, there was a dark, ovaloid object. She approached closer, kneeling down to get a better look at it.

“What is it?” she said.

She had a strong urge to reach out and touch the mysterious object, but thought that wasn’t a good idea.

Kevin said nothing, for a minute.

“I think it’s an egg,” he finally said, still not taking his eyes off of it.

“I understand now…”

Suddenly, it dawned on Lucy as well.

“You were pregnant?” she said, looking over at the wolf in astonishment.

The wolf laughed. “It seems so.”

Kevin sniffed the egg. It was several feet long, grey, and perfectly smooth, resembling some kind of igneous rock. He extended a paw and touched the egg gingerly, almost lovingly. Kevin held his paw to the object for some time. Then, he took a few steps away from it and laid down.

“Can you believe it?” said Lucy, standing up again, looking between Kevin and the egg.

“I can believe it,” he said. “But it’s not what I expected.”

“Well, what now?”

“Now we wait,” he said.

“How long will it take to hatch?” she said, as if Kevin would somehow have the answer even though two hours ago he hadn’t even known he was pregnant.

“I do not know,” he replied. “Unfortunately there is no Mingmerang guidebook. I would have had a better month, if there was.”

“It could be years. It could be 100 million years.”

The moon had passed over them, and they were sitting in the darkness of the forest again. Lucy still had the urge to reach out and touch the mysterious egg. She wanted to feel what it was made of, what kind of a covering it had. It seemed to have small markings on it, swirls and spirals, although Lucy couldn’t be sure in the dark.

“Do you want to be alone with it?” Lucy asked tentatively.

“No,” said Kevin. “I don’t mind. Stay here if you like.”

The wolf crossed its paws and set its head down on top of them.

Lucy stayed that night with Kevin and the egg. With all the excitement she found herself wide awake through the night. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Kevin was alternating between giving it meaningful looks and resting his head on his paws.

They passed the rest of the night uneventfully, in silence. Lucy eventually dozed off, waking up at dawn to see that the egg had changed appearance considerably. It seemed softer now, like a squishy pill, and clearer. It was full of sparkles and dots.

Lucy wondered what exactly would be coming out of it, and when it would hatch. She was just starting to think she should head back to the house, that Nilah would soon be looking for her, when suddenly, the egg started to move. It was wriggling, gently.

“Did you see that?” she gasped, glancing at Kevin. He was watching intently.

“I saw it.”

The mass continued to wriggle, more and more vigorously. And then, it burst open with a pop, like a bubble. The outer lining had burst, and now, what looked like a hundred tiny little Mingmerangs tumbled out. Each one of them was a mini Kevin, looking exactly like him, but in miniature form. They stumbled around, falling over one another, immediately taking space. They didn’t seem to have much awareness, not acknowledging the large wolf or the human woman, simply disentangling themselves from one another. And then, the most extraordinary thing happened.

One by one, the little Mingmerangs lit up, all together, they began to transform themselves. There were flashes of light, and then – birds, of all kinds – a sparrow, two chickadees, several crows and titmice – then there was a chipmunk, several chipmunks, a frog, squirrels, and beetles, butterflies, a crab… Lucy thought it was like Noah’s Ark, to see so many different animals together in one place. And immediately, they fled – hopping off, flying away, scurrying into the woods.

Within minutes Kevin and Lucy were alone again. The clearing was empty now of baby Mingmerangs, as if there had not just been a hundred tiny aliens scampering about.

“Well, I’m not going to be the only Mingmerang around here anymore,” Kevin finally said.

“Congratulations Kevin, you’re a father!!!!”

Lucy went back home happier than ever, feeling like she had just won the lottery. She was sure that nothing could ever beat what had happened last night. That Kevin had been pregnant. He wasn’t dead. And now, a hundred more Mingmerangs on Earth…

After Kevin’s replication event, Lucy continued to see him. He was now spending most of his time as a barred owl. He would find her during the day, while she was out, sitting in the glen down in the woods behind the house, or in the field by the trees, and he would hoot outside her window at night. And whenever Lucy saw the wild creatures of the woods now, she couldn’t help but wonder if they were really what they seemed to be, or if they were one of Kevin’s Mingmerang children.

Eventually, it came time that Lucy was moving on. She had reached the end of her stay in Nilah’s forest home. Life called her onward. She was sad to go, and she told Kevin that she promised to come back and visit him.

“Before you leave, come visit me. I have a present for you.”

On Lucy’s last day, she went down to where she had laid eyes on a Mingmerang for the first time. She scanned the trees, looking for the owl, her eyes landing on a brown lump in a cedar tree. It was Kevin. He flew down silently, landing in front of her.

“Are you all ready to go?”

“I have a few more things to grab but… pretty much, yep.”

“Well, I’ll miss seeing you around here,” said Kevin. “You’ll have to come back sometime.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Kevin spread his wings and swooped back, putting distance between himself and Lucy.

“Are you ready?” he called to her. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kevin changed himself. The bright shimmer of light engulfed his body, and rapidly, it swelled, enormously expanding into a long, gargantuan creature, with a massive head, a projecting tail – the light faded, and there, standing in the sun, as real as it gets, was a monster T-Rex.

“Holy shit…” Lucy whispered, putting a hand to her mouth. The T-Rex was staring at her with beady, black reptilian eyes. It took two steps towards her, and even though Lucy knew that it was Kevin, she felt fear. She was so powerless compared to such a beast. He snorted, his nostrils flaring, and then he straightened himself up, raising his head high up in the air, opened his jaws wide, and let out a ferocious, terrifying chirping sound.

“Squakakakakakak!!!!!”

The T-Rex stopped shrieking and looked back at Lucy.

“Well,” he said. “Are you impressed?”

“Very impressed. So that’s what a T-Rex sounds like, huh? I would never have guessed it,” she laughed.

“It’s their mating call.”

“Thank you, Kevin. Now I’m the only person alive to have ever seen a Mingmerang AND a T-Rex.”

The T-Rex started to glow, and then, Kevin returned to his owl form.

“So, what are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I’m going back to live with my parents, for now. And then… I’m not really sure. I’ve got to find a job, I suppose…”

“You will do great, Lucy. You are very capable. I have seen that.”

“Thanks Kevin. You take care of yourself, alright?”

The owl hooted in response. Lucy was tearing up now. She was as sad to leave these woods as she was to leave Kevin. They had bonded, her and the Mingmerang. And he felt like an extension of these woods. In a way, he was the woods. She patted his feathery head. Kevin hooted, then flew back up to his perch in the cedar tree.

Lucy waved goodbye, taking one last look at him.

“Goodbye, friend!”

“Goodbye Lucy,” called the Mingmerang. “See you again someday.”

Then, Lucy turned around, and set off back up the trail. When she got back up to the house, Nilah was there waiting for her. She seemed flustered.

“Lucy, did you hear that… that squawking??” she said anxiously.

Lucy looked back at her with a twinkle in her eye.

“Squawking? What squawking?”

“From the woods! Behind the house! You didn’t hear it? It was a horrible sound!”

Lucy had to stifle a giggle, and pretended not to know what Nilah was talking about.

“Hmm… No, I didn’t hear it. Maybe it was a Mingmerang!”

“A what? A Mingerang?”

“No, a Mingmerang. I was just out there talking to one.”

“What? Oh, you’re messing with me, aren’t you? Haha. You’re hilarious…” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, are you ready to go?”

Lucy nodded, grabbed the rest of her bags.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Quack Hits

I meant to say, Quick Hits.

“But what could it do, if any danger came?” Alice asked.

“It could bark,” said the Rose.

From Through The Looking-Glass, 1871, Lewis Carroll

Quick hits:

We write for joy. We write for fun. That’s why we write, ultimately. It is for joy.

Sometimes to convey information. Sometimes to persuade. But the best writing is that which comes from an act of love. It is play. That’s the best. So says Stephen King.

I have sat down to do this and found that I don’t really want to do this. So it goes.

“So it goes.”

– Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut.

I went on a run today. A wild run. I ended up in the middle of the woods running on deer trails. I stopped one centimeter before running through an enormous spider web, complete with large, scary black spider in the middle, at face height. It was like meeting a tripwire. I stopped just in time. I felt out around the edge, not wanting to just destroy the poor beast’s hard work and livelihood, but having to pass through this way, being in dense woodland forest, and I felt around the edges of the web, the invisible space, to see if there was some way I could pass without entangling myself in threads. I did find a large patch of open space, and I contorted myself through it, hoping very much to not bring the spider down upon me. I then resumed my running.

I could not believe that I had absolutely no ticks on me after this wild run. Through long grass, for a mile or more, I had mud, some scratches, various other debris, but surely, thought I, there must be a tick or twenty on my body. And there were NONE. Moving too fast? Too much sweat? No ticks in that grass? I couldn’t believe it.

It’s good to run hard through the woods. Makes you feel alive. I ran through about twenty deer, ten different pairs of two or three deer, on that run.

Tragedy struck this morning. Or, it struck last night. I discovered the tragedy this morning. My sunflowers had been ravaged. They had been doing so great, too. Well, they were ravaged. Not even a trace of three of them, only craters left in the ground from where they had been savagely ripped from the earth. The second largest, uprooted and mangled, left a carcass on the soil. If sunflowers had blood, there would have been blood everywhere. The largest, my prize bonnet, or whatever people said in the old days, my prize pig, bit clean off from three inches up. Three measly leaves and a smidgen of stem left. Well, at least they gave me that. Can it rise from the ashes?

Mysteriously, the two that have made it out of my second planting were left untouched. Perhaps they are being saved for later? Allowed to fatten before the slaughter?

Who was the culprit? We will never know. I suspect a rogue deer that haunts our neighborhood.

I’ve seen her.

I have had a growing history of reading people things from books, offering personal heartfelt readings, generally when in the comfort of my abode. I have read or attempted to read many a story to my living mates. Two nights ago, at a party, before heading out into the night, we sat around in the living room, eight of us young modern American people, and my roommate Smosh said something that I will never forget. I remembered it just now, I was reflecting on the significance of this event just moments before I started to write this piece, because it was truly extraordinary, and has put him in my good graces forever. He said, in the midst of the revelry, the group now gathered around the couch and table, all conversing, he said to me: “You should read us some poetry.”

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it first. Smosh, you wonderful man. I ran the three steps from the living room into my bedroom and grabbed my book of Poems of Fun and Fancy. And I read the poems.

Some of them.

I first chose to go out on a limb and try a new one. That was as an experiment. But it was not a great success. Everyone (my sister) just wanted to hear A Letter To Evelyn Baring.

Smosh then said, “I thought you would read us a Japanese poem.”

I went and got my Japanese poems.

I read the first poem I came across, which happened to be from The Exile Of Godaigo, about an exiled emperor of Japan in the late 1200’s.

tsui ni kaku

shizumihatsubeki

mukui araba

ue naki mi to wa

nani umarekemu

If it is my fate

To terminate thus my days,

In the depths of ruin,

Why was I ever born

Sovereign supreme of men?

After only one week, possibly ten days of avoiding all artificial light bar fire in the evenings, my circadian rhythm has completely reset. I have woken up at the crack of dawn on nearly all of these days. And now, the sun goes down, and I am sleepy. I am still often having surges of energy and late night mental wanderings, but I resist the urge to indulge them. I think it takes some time to fully adjust. This morning I woke up at 5:30 am, and for the first time, I felt like I was waking up regularly, as in, I did not feel that I wanted to go back to bed.

Parker came into my room last night to show me something on his phone. He had been working on some art for his Spotify. I allowed him to show me, he said, in an attempt to persuade me to evaluate his art, “I’ll show you on the lowest light settings.” Well, to my fully adjusted nighttime eyes, that “lowest” setting was still blinding, and when he flashed that screen in my face, I immediately recoiled, and I felt my eyes rapidly contract in my head. It was like I had just looked into the sun. I felt like I had just been doused with cold water.

I talked to a girl at the barcade, the night of the party. It was towards the end of the night. I had gone over to the machine to play Q-Bert. I got the second highest score, that night. Someday I will claim the first.

There was a girl standing alone at Burgertime. She was pretty. I had the urge to talk to her. I walked over to the machine next to her, and said, “Are you winning?” She said, “Oh, I’m just waiting for my friends, they abandoned me.” I said, “Oh.” (Or something like that.) She said, “I don’t even know what this is,” gesturing to the game in front of her. I looked at the title, saw that it was Burgertime. I said, “It’s Burgertime!”

She said something about how her friends were always going outside to talk to the bouncer or something. I said, “What do you think they’re talking about?”

She thought for a moment.

“Drugs.”

I laughed. She said, something about how they’re always talking about a “plug”, and she put emphasis on that word, somewhat mockingly, lighthearted mocking. I think she rolled her eyes.

She then asked me, “Are you winning? Tonight?”

I said, “Eh. I’m not losing.”

She was really looking at me now.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

I could tell she meant where I was really from.

“Elkhart Indiana… Northern Indiana.”

I don’t remember if she had any real response to that or just acknowledged it.

(Actually, I remember. She asked what brought me to Nashville.)

“How about you?”

She was from Nashville. She said, “right down the street” and she made a gesture suggesting that she really was talking about right down the street.

I said, “You can tell I’m not from Nashville?”

She said, “Mhm.”

“How could you tell?”

“Your stature.”

That was not what I expected to hear. I didn’t really know what that even meant.

“My stature?”

“Yep. And the way you talk.”

I ain’t no southern boy. That’s for sure.

Somehow, then, for whatever reason she told me that she had broken up with her ex that night. I don’t remember why she was telling me that. It was pretty matter-of-fact. She didn’t seem too devastated about it. But I remember that she phrased it as, “My ex and I broke up tonight.”

I said, “You’re already calling him your ex?”

She nodded.

I thought that was interesting. Can you say, “My ex and I broke up?” Not really, right. Because you can’t break up with your ex. You’re not dating them anymore.

I didn’t go into that right then. I said, for some reason, I guess I just had the feeling, “Have you broken up before?”

She nodded.

This was about at the end of the conversation. I’m wondering why I didn’t offer any words of solace or comfort. She might have asked me right after that what brought me to Nashville, but that doesn’t seem like it would have been the follow-up question. I think that came earlier in the conversation. There wasn’t much more said though, before she said, “I’m so sorry, but I really have to go now, my friends are waiting for me. It was nice talking with you, though.”

And she touched my arm.

I said, “Go on!”

Not in a way that suggested I wanted her to go. But it was time for her to go.

Maybe I was supposed to say, “It was nice talking with you too.” I don’t think it mattered too much what I said, then.

I now had permission to go ham on Q-Bert.

I had an epic run. In the very first game, I lost two lives like they were… pieces of candy… that you don’t… want, on Halloween. (I want to come up with an original and unique simile here. I don’t have it.)

I lost my first two lives like they were tadpoles… in a pond. Because frogs have so many babies…. they’re disposable… do you know what I mean?

Oh my god.

I lost those first two lives, and then I was on the ropes. I had one life left. And somehow, on that one life, I ended up going so far. It was all I needed. I was rolling hot on that one life.

I was in the perfect place, mentally, for crushing Q-Bert. I was the right level of invested. I didn’t care too much. I wasn’t too drunk. I was just a little buzzed, a little desirous of doing my best. The alcohol was unlocking some Q-Bert skill in me.

Then, my sister came over. She started talking to me. Something happened. I got riled up, I got distracted. And I made my one, final life Q-Bert jump off the cliff.

What a tragic ending!

I watched as my Q-Bert fell into the abyss. There went my final life. And for the night, that was my attempt at the top score. I did no better than that.

I Stopped Using Shampoo. Here’s What Happened

Yes, I stopped using shampoo.

And yes, I’m using a clickbait title.

Why not lure you in with a little clickbait? As I’ve recently joined Medium, and have so been bombarded with a slew of clickbait titles, pathetically pandering titles, a deluge of desperate, attention-grabbing titles, plastered all over the front page — it only seems fitting.

Maybe that’s harsh. People want clicks. They want their work to be read. They want to get some money. That’s fine. I mostly just wanted to write “pathetically pandering” and “a deluge of desperate”.

It’s tiring to sift through clickbait title after clickbait title, though. It immediately turns me off, even if there is good content in the post.

You wonder, where is the creativity and the authenticity? Where is anyone writing about nothing in particular? The musings? Why does everything have to “Change My Life” and make me “Never See Things The Same Way Again”? Why does every article have to drastically improve my life and/or save humanity?

You know where the non-clickbait writers are. They’re flying under the radar. They’re written by people who have fifty subscribers, or none at all. They’re the ones who aren’t on the front page, who have 50 claps on a post, who are writing purely for fun, putting their thoughts right there on the page for us all. Unaltered, raw.

That’s good s***.

There is also plenty of high-profile writing that is not clickbait-y. You can reach an audience without it.

You know, I’ve probably alienated this post from some readers like me, who avoid clickbait titles. Shooting myself in the foot, with that one.

And, well – I’ve titled this post with a clickbait title, so now I’m no better than the rest of them.

Anyway, I do want to tell you about my journey with no poo.

First, why no shampoo?

There are two reasons why I’ve wanted to try it:

To reduce waste and resource use
To break dependency on a product that I may not need

That’s it. Saving money is a side bonus.

I’ve tried no poo a few times but haven’t been able to stick to it because I become insecure about my greasy hair.

Well, this time I’ve succeeded.

It’s probably been a month since I’ve used shampoo, possibly longer. This time around, I succeeded because I’ve cared more about not using plastic and creating waste than I’ve cared about my physical appearance.

My desire to save the planet has been greater than my desire to look good.

I was also motivated to try no poo again because I’ve been annoyed that I have cared so much about my physical appearance. That I can’t break my dependency on a product, just because I don’t like how I look without it. That makes me feel weak, like I’m caving to a standard.

I’m not judging anyone who does want to use shampoo and make their hair beautiful. I appreciate that. I just wanted to see if I could break it, for myself, and to see if I really needed it.

And the implications for the planet are that, if we could all break a habit that we didn’t really need, on a large scale… we could save millions and millions of individual waste items from ever being created, remove the possibility that they ever end up somewhere they’re not supposed to be, and save on the resources that go into creating such items.

So, here’s what happened.

I’ve broken through, now on my longest period of no poo ever. And something very interesting happened after two, maybe three weeks…

There was a day where I DIDN’T think about how my hair looked.

Every day up until this fateful day, I checked my hair in the mirror, often multiple times a day, evaluating its state, assessing the health, the shine, the texture… wondering if it was too greasy, too frizzy, whatever. As usual. The main thing that I was worried about and cared about was that it was too greasy.

Too greasy, though, really just meant it was greasier than normal.

Who’s to say hair is too greasy? What is the standard? Well, there isn’t one.

Greasiness isn’t really a problem. Or if it is, I haven’t found the problem yet. A more important problem would be smell, if my hair smelled bad, but it doesn’t. It smells fine. It smells like hair.

Still, I care about how it looks, and it wasn’t looking perfect and clean. I didn’t have the bouncing, sleek locks that shampooing can bring. But, what I did have was freedom from caring. Well, that’s what I have now.

It took about two or three weeks before I realized, I went an entire day without caring how my hair looked.

I simply didn’t think about it. And I realized, the next day… Hey, I don’t think I thought about how my hair looked yesterday.

I didn’t care how it looked, I didn’t care if it was “too greasy”, I didn’t even think about it. And that’s because my self-image has adjusted. I think it’s become normalized for me. It’s not too anything. It’s just my hair.

So that’s it. My hair has stayed the same now for the last week. Every day it looks basically the same. I like it. It’s my hair. And it feels right, it feels natural. I’m not dependent on a product. I don’t feel anxiety about it if I go too long without shampooing, and it starts to get “greasy”. It just is what it is.

Physical appearance matters much less than a radiant spirit. It is far less important than how you carry yourself, and how you behave towards others. The best fashion is a smile. Or a pleasant demeanor. I read that line somewhere, that line isn’t mine. But isn’t it amazing?

You know who has greasy hair? Severus Snape.

You know who is one of the greatest characters ever, in the history of characters in the universe?

Yeah. Severus Snape.

Sirius Black also had greasy hair. So there you go.

(I know they’re fictional characters, okay? Let me use them anyway. I just finished Harry Potter and I’m not over it.)

Greasy Hair In Society

We could delve further into some philosophical and societal discussion here… We could ask, why do I feel so insecure to walk around with “greasy” hair? What’s the problem?

Is it because of the connotations that people will draw about me? Is it because of how I feel about myself?

We can actually use Severus Snape as a model here, to explore some of these questions. There is a reason why Rowling describes Snape as having greasy hair, and often refers to it. Snape is unkempt and generally unpopular. He is portrayed as being snarky, mean, even nasty, and was definitely, not a cool kid. That is his character portrait, and so, to help create and bolster that image, Rowling chose to describe him as having greasy hair.

That in itself says a lot about what we think about people with greasy hair.

Rowling describes Sirius Black as having greasy hair when he was first out of Azkaban. Why would Rowling use this descriptor? Possibly to signal to us, the readers, that Black had just been having a very rough time. He probably didn’t keep his greasy hair later in the series, if it is touched on, as his condition in life improves. We would even expect that, no? Because now he’s not suffering, therefore he must be taking better care of himself, and therefore his hair is “clean” and not greasy. He must be shampooing.

These connotations are probably why I was aware of my hair being greasier than normal, and why I felt like that was a bad thing. I was associating myself with an image related to Severus Snape, villanous and nasty, or Sirius Black, an escaped convict.

People in my circle have commented on my hair, noting that it is greasier than usual, and they have meant well, possibly wanting to avoid me from experiencing those connotations and judgments. Perhaps they were worried that I wasn’t caring for myself properly. Perhaps they are worried what it will mean for them if they are seen to be associating with a greasy-haired person.

Ultimately, I myself have probably been much more concerned with my greasy hair than anybody I know.

Self-Image Is Obscured

When I was young, I hated my acne.

I suffered when I had a particularly large pimple on my face. It was horrible for me, and made me self-conscious.

Looking back on it, however, I’m sure I cared way more about my acne than anybody else did.

I think the same thing is true with whatever it is about ourselves that we don’t like.

You care more than anybody else does. As they like to say, nobody else really gives a damn about you.

People may take a look at your pimply face, your greasy hair, as you pass by, they make a snap judgment, and then you never see them again. Maybe they even make fun of you.

Well, they can get bent.

And on the other hand, what’s probably more likely is that you think that people look at your pimply face, and your greasy hair, and draw x, y, or z conclusion… When in reality, they see that you have a fun Hello Kitty shirt on, or you have beautiful green eyes, or they find you really funny and charming. You really don’t even know what they think. Perhaps they don’t even think anything about you at all.

Anyone who really does care about you, they won’t give a damn about how you look.

You probably care more than anybody else. I probably cared way more than anybody else about my greasy hair. Unlike me, other people don’t spend every day staring at me in the mirror, multiple times a day, scrutinizing over every detail of my physical appearance, or whatever aspect of my physical appearance it is that I’m so concerned about at the time.

I write this like I’ve already learned this lesson, but here I am, writing about how I was just so concerned about my greasy hair…!

What other people see, is how you carry yourself, what you care about, your energy, your smile. At least, that’s what they should see. And that’s what you should focus on.

That’s what I want to focus on.

This is a topic that we could go on and on about; hygiene standards, societal expectations, self-image… but I don’t want to do that much philosophizing on a Wednesday.

It makes my head hurt.

Here’s to another month of greasy hair!