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From:
Alexandra Sargent-Colburn <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Sat, 7 Jan 2012 00:20:29 +0000
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When we left off...

Most of the altar had been assembled simply from things lying around
the house. The white altar cloth was no more than one of the Hoomin's
T-shirts, laid flat and upside down so that none of the writing on the
front showed. The cloth was lying atop a natural surface, in this case
the seat of a wooden chair. Caff-Pow and Todd the ferret had
contributed a nice assortment of shiny things that they had collected
and stashed. Shiny things are pleasing to the ancestors. Arranging all
the "shinies" had been tiring work.

Todd sat next to 'Pow, both breathing heavily and resting against one
of the altar's maple legs when he realized that everyone, including
'Pow was looking at him. "Oh!" he said. "Next...next..." He looked
up suddenly and said "Spirits! We need a bottle of spirits for the
ancestors." Sterling the Cat heaved a heavy dramatic sigh as only a
cat can and said "But these Hoomins don't drink spitits."  And Todd
said...nothing. He screwed up his face into a tight fist that denoted
the most strenuous concentration...and said nothing. The Dog looked at
the Cat. It had been such an exciting night so far. It could *only* be
improved by a nice cat chase. Loki narrowed her eyes... The Cat looked
at the Rooster and the hens, imagining fried chicken dinners. Then
Sterling looked at that nice, plump egg, just sitting there on the
carpet. The Rooster gave the Cat his best "Try it, punk" expression.
Todd looked down at his toes and said...nothing. It was a bad moment
and it seemed to go on for a long time.

Caff-Pow listened to the silence, all the silences, the very bad
silences lengthening and turning into something that would no doubt
come out unhappily for all. He looked up and just by chance he happened
to see...Tina the Turtle's tank. Tina knew things. Tina was more than
six. Tina was wise. True, she was in mourning, dark and solitary
mourning. But...Sometimes there were great rewards gained by the one
who dares to take a chance. Ferrets are daring by nature, especially
Caff-Pow who had never given up on trying to forge some pleasant
relationship with the Turtle, although everyone else had long since
given up after being soundly rebuffed. Caff-Pow imagined what it would
be like to be abandoned by his Hoomin simply because he had grown,
and his upkeep was no longer "convenient." He shuddered a bit at the
thought, and began the climb up the Dog's chair and to the kitchen
island.

Tina was resting atop her artificial rock in her customary position,
basking beneath the warmth of the heat lamp. Her bullet-shaped head was
tipped with two perfectly round nostrils and a genuinely weak chin (it
is a fact of turtle life, that chin.) Her head was raised high so that
she could better hear all that was going on around her, far beneath her
tank. Caff-Pow stood up on his back feet at one of the long sides of
her 55 gallon glass tank. He jumped, missed. Jumped and missed again.
He was successful on his third try. He caught the edge of the tank with
his front paws and he scrambled up with his back feet until he was
perched above Tina comfortably. He could look down onto her rock and
her curved muddy green and brown back. Tina looked up at the Ferret
with one of her unreadable expressions. The red stripes just behind
her eyes were very handsome. "What?" she said. Simply that, as was her
customary fashion.

"Well, " 'Pow began. "I think you heard about our dilemma." Tina stared
at the ferret, neither confirming nor denying anything. Her gaze never
wavered. She merely closed her eyes and turned her head away from 'Pow.
It dipped down lower and lower until her (very weak) chin rested on
the rough surface of the rock. She volunteered nothing. 'Pow wiggled
a bit to guarantee his grip on the corner of the tank where two sides
intersected and said "If you can, please help us. Please. This is very
hard for us, and we're really trying hard to do something important."
Tina's thick neck flared out, thinned. flared out, thinned. That was
the only way you could tell that she was still breathing. The silence
lengthened until it became a statement in and of itself.

Atop the tank Caff-Pow had begun to calculate the jump back down to the
floor. Obviously, there would be no help here. He started adjusting
himself for the leap to the back of the Dog's chair, tail raised for
balance when the Turtle spoke quite unexpectedly. 'Pow was so surprised
that he completely missed what Tina had said. He turned back to his
perched position quickly and said in surprise "Huh?" Tina, eyes still
closed and chin on rock said quietly "I am a poet, you know." 'Pow
couldn't help himself. His jaw dropped and he froze in place. He
coughed and sputtered once or twice and asked "Poet?" Tina, eyes
still closed and once again motionless said nothing.

'Pow remembered all the times that Todd that warned him away from Tina.
Todd insisted that Tina's mind had somehow shattered under the loss of
her original Hoomin. And now...'Pow had to wonder. He tried very hard
to maintain a completely neutral expression and voice when he asked
Tina "Are you published?" Tina opened her green -yellow eyes, raised
her head a bit and and said "I'm a Turtle. A Turtle." What followed was
a lengthy silence that suggested to 'Pow that it wa s time for *him* to
say something. He, however, could think of nothing. Tina drew in a deep
breath and said " I write my poems with my nose on the inside of the
tank glass. And sooner or later, some Hoomin washes them away." At that
her eyes closed and her head sank once more, chin returning to the
basking rock.

Caff-Pow was absolutely, completely at a loss for words. This was not
one of his natural states. He was a healthy ferret, and he bounced
through the world as if joy were easy. But at that moment he was afraid
to say anything lest he make things worse. Weirder, anyway. He turned
for his leap and landed effortlessly on the back of the Dog's chair.
He turned to make the secondary leap that would bring him to the floor
when he heard a sort of buzz coming from Tina's tank. He turned back
to the tank, gave a hop up and then stood up against the tank on his
back feet once again. Tina's eyes were still closed but she repeated
something slowly and concisely. If you weren't up close to her when
she spoke her voice was a sort of buzz through all that glass. Tina
said one word. "Durkee."

Durkee...

Part Five Tomorrow
Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 7297]


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