2009 was a dismal year for stories. In total, I believe I completed one tale. But perhaps I'm being to hard on myself. I also wrote about a dozen short short stories in my other creative blog, http://looseferrets.livejournal.com . There are stories I started, but never quite finished, and many ideas that are slowly forming into plots, but not into prose just yet. It comes to me that I must change this in 2010. I am starting a new job and with that, my daily life has changed. I come home from work and no longer have to worry about homework, I have time to do what I want at times.
Well, not too much, cause the job is a job after all, but still, I want to make use of the cracks in between. I want to go to a comic convention, I want to go forth on an epic road trip into the unknowns this summer, I want to improve my writing and drawing, I want to start a podcast! I have many expectations, that has never been the problem, but this year, I hope to do meet some of these expectations.
So, to start, I'll post my only completed tale from last year, a quirky tale that involves a ferret, to fit with the title of this blog. Enjoy. You shall hopefully see more of me this coming year.
The Swoopiness of Ferrets, Genetics, and Time
If something blows your mind enough, there is not a sense of being scared, for there is a limit to being scared. When the level of fear plateaus, only a level of wonder remains, dumb, unadulterated, wonder.
Of course, many get killed in this state so it’s not advised that you enter this state often. Running and fleeing don’t help much either, but just standing there while there’s some beast frothing overhead is NOT to be recommend if you want to breathe just a few more breaths. There is always the chance this will bring a cleaner (aka: blunt) end, but why throw naive desperate hope out the window?
There is always the faint probability however, that whatever causes this wonder is either not consciously capable of causing chaotic carnage, or if so, chooses not to bother because that expression on the human face is so gosh darn classic. Some take photos to kill the effect.
Sometimes, those are the most dangerous ones of all.
The ferret lowered the camera. Wright saw this through a pink haze of inverted colors, the aftermath of the camera’s flash. The word “monster” did not often accompany the creature jokingly known as a “carpet shark” except in the most mischievous terms. To understand a ferret in general is not easy. A body of sinew, arched back, a plethora of whiskers on a decidedly grizzled maw, beady eyes alit by an inner predatory instincts of bygone generations. They do not walk anywhere. Ferrets scamper, skitter, slip, slide romp…
Wright knew this from experience as a ferret pet owner. Discovering that there had been three ferrets in the cage, riddled with chew toys and hammocks, had been the start of the problem. When the third ferret had somehow grew into a five foot tall monster, dressed in a loose jean jacket, a flatcap tilted up on his head, and no pants, Wright became somewhat concerned. His awe faded and vision returned to normal. The word “monster” didn’t quite fit. Despite the fact that the ferret had rippled into a larger form, clothes included, camera in paw, it was still, in every detail, just a ferret, except it could stand nose to nose with Wright without Wright having to pick it up or to lay down himself.
The ferret hung the camera from its neck, and proceeded to stretch himself, muscle by muscle, forelegs (arms, perhaps, Wright decided), hind legs, temporally got on four paws to crack its back. It yawned. Wright remembered how wicked a ferret’s teeth looked when being about to see down their cavernous maw. It took the time to curve its body and carefully smooth out its twichy tail. Finally, its attention turned back to Wright. Its whiskered muzzle broke into a grin.
“Hi-o, Wright. How are you on this fine morn?”
Wright still had not moved, through the transformation, through the flash of the camera, through the systematic stretching. By this point, he failed to see the motivation. Fleeing would do no good now and he figured if he had gone insane, there was really no point in panicking about it, even if he had always been curious about strait jackets.
“I’m doing fine.”
The ferret scampered over to the counter, populated by remnants of Pop-Tarts, dirty dishes, and debris from meals over the course of the last month. The odd ferret movements of the smaller editions remained in this big one, even with the ferret walking on two legs. It reached a paw into the pile, and pulled out a slightly bruised orange. “Mind?” The ferret didn’t wait for an answer, it gnawed off a bite of the orange, skin and all, juice coming out the sides of his mouth, dripping off his fuzzy white chin. It took another bite, giving a strange image of reflective debate while chewing, it kept dark eyes on Wright. “Ah, orange. Brilliant fruit. Just one of those things you miss the organiciness of. Mostly synthetic now. Well, there, actually, here, only slight dashes of genetic infringement.” The ferret put the last bite in, licked each of his claws, then let his tongue wrap around his muzzle to catch every orangey drop. It closed eyes in relish. “Citrus, how I’ve missed ya.”
It took a final swipe with its tongue, then turned back to Wright, still standing there. “Well now. Now that I’m properly replenished after the transfer, allow me to introduce myself… Harper, at your service.” The ferret held forth a paw. Wright thought it was to shake. A little different, but it was so obviously a ferret paw. He could see the five claws, the pink paw pads, the delicate digits, the dark glossy fur, he took the paw. Before he could protest, he was pulled forward and the ferret had nuzzled noses with him.
“ARGGGH!”
It was one thing to having a large five foot ferret to appear. It was quite another to have that ferret nuzzles noses with him. Wright became aware, after the fact, that the nuzzle had not in itself been scarring in the least. There had been something comforting about being rubbed by the pink nose, ticked by the whiskers, hearing the characteristic “d’k” from the large ferret’s maw. The estranged yell had been some remnant of the first impression, a little reaction that had straightened out, stalled, been lured away by conflicting orders, wandered in the plain of procrastination, then stumbled in at about the same time as the nuzzle. It really couldn’t be helped.
It did startle the ferret however, who stumbled backwards, into a chair, over the chair, across the kitchen table, filled with odds and ends of job applications and receipts, and crashed back to the floor, a flipping long body of flailing limbs and tail.
Despite the absurdity, Wright was quick to be at the ferret’s side. “Oh, sorry, sorry, I…I…didn’t expect that. No excuse. So sorry. Anything I can do?”
A peculiar smell filled the air.
The ferret grumbled, “Ah, typical. My glands went off.”
~ 0 ~
Ferret shampoo only did half the job. The rest of hide had to make due with berries and cream. The smell of it made Wright choke more than former stench of musk, or perhaps it was a mix of the two. At the least, the ferret seemed appreciative it after he halted the flow of the shower.
“There’s a certain sensibility in using one’s own tongue to bathe, but to deny the cascade of hot water on the hide…” The ferret paused to rub himself vigorously with a floral towel. “d’kd’kd’kd’kd’k…sorry.”
The ferret’s whiskers dripped as he grinned down at Wright. The expression to capture his feelings had not quite caught up with Wright. He even had to remind himself to blink. Each time he let himself, the ferret remained. He couldn’t help imagine this fellow attempting to slither into his sweatshirt, though probably only the muzzle would fit, which would add to the odd quizzical nature the ferret naturally possessed.
The ferret placed the towel over his shoulders. It fell off. Ferret shoulders weren’t made for that. “Any questions?”
“Hmm?’
“No, who am I? Where am I from? How am I speaking? Why am I not wearing any form of lower garments?”
“You’re not wearing anything now.”
“Yes, but when I was, I was lacking pants.”
“Was that important?”
“Humans appear to be more attracted to their pants so I was uncertain if there were some moral standards that I needed to upkeep.”
Wright would have noticed an absurdity in this topic if that level hadn’t been trounced twenty-six minutes ago. He had also given up any hope of encountering a hint of his lost sanity. These were bygone points. He sighed, and sank down onto the closed toilet and leaned back against the cool porcelain Wright watched as the ferret stuck a toothbrush in his ear. He made a vague note that it was his toothbrush.
“Since you’re obviously not going to humor me and play your part in this unusual circumstance, I shall use this ever useful paw puppet.”
“It’s a toilet brush.”
“You’re offending him.”
“Dook!”
“See?”
“Dookdookdook!”
“Why yes, I am a ferret. I come from another world, and my name is Harper.”
The ferret, Harper, provided the voice the toilet brush slash puppet from the side of his maw.
“Doooook.”
“I know. Isn’t that impressive? I am from a line of intelligent creatures who have developed, from the time of humans, into an entirely new society and…”
“Dook!”
When the cue card appeared in the ferret’s other paw, Wright decided it would best to accept the delusion for the heck of it, and interrupt this already absurd speech.
“Why?” Wright asked.
“Ah, now that’s a vague question I don’t think Scrubby would have considered.”
“Dookdook.”
“Shush, back to the frothy muck from which ye came.”
Wright rose so the ferret could pick up the toilet lid and stuff the brush in. Scrubby produced one more gargled “dook” before falling silent.
“I could give you some spiel about life and death and the shiny bits of technological development and there would ooos and awws and general bemusing debate, but past all that, it’s all pointless.” Harper had draped an arm over Wright’s shoulders, and was practically cheek to cheek with him. The semblance of a personal bubble obviously had no meaning to Harper.
“I can say, that the world is a fluid place, full of unfettered possibility that bubbles up with the surface with a click of the claws.” Harper clicked his claw, as if to prove the point. Wright didn’t see anything different.
“I don’t what you…”
“Behold.”
Wright looked into the bathroom mirror, hung cockeyed above a dripping fauceted sink. A foggy mass stared back. Harper obliged and wiped the steamy glass with the back of his paw. Wright went slack jawed. He had more jaw to go slack.
“I have a suggestion of what to say,” Harper whispered. “Come, come, repeat after me. ‘I appear to be an impeccable example of the vulpine persuasion.”
“I appear to be an impeccable example of the vulpine persuasion,” Wright said, making the large red fox, with slightly raggled fur, left ear tilted at an angle, and wearing Wright’s clothing, say likewise.
Wright held his paw up in front of his face, which was covered with a characteristic dark foxy paw shade, with claws.
“Urm…”
“There be an entire genetic glimmery. No needs for wires and elixirs, reality is a gooey mass to be poke and prodded. We have discovered that laws of mass and matter and genetics exist, but are a bit more detached from their prior restrictions, and don’t get me started on the law of gravity…”
Wright was a little distracted by the existence of an extra appendage. Rather, an extension of an existing bit that had no function. He curiously rubbed his own tail in non-responsive daze, until Harper noticed. ”…and it’s just a matter of contact points and voila.” He vaguely felt Harper’s claws dance along his neck, and suddenly the tail was ringed, the paws were decidedly more hand-like and black, and the fur was straggled gray.
“Perhaps raccoon would be a better starter species for you. Get ye into the feel of a new body before leaping into carnivorous tendencies. Omnivores are rather mellow.”
Wright rubbed the mask around his eyes, and asked, “Better starter species…for what?”
“For insertions into my world, of course. Could be a human shape, but that would just lead to awkward questions and stares and you wouldn’t like that. Plus, this brings with it tendrils of instincts that…”
“No.”
The word faded into the steamy clutches of the recent shower.
Still in raccoon form, Wright exited the bathroom.
~ 0 ~
“Why are you laying on the floor?”
“Well, I would have been lying on the back lawn but I assume that the neighbors would call animal control if they saw a massive raccoon sprawled out among the weeds out there. I decided that carpet would be the best substitute.”
“Ah.”
“However, it would have been just a little bit fun to mess with those animal control guys by use of some whipped cream and that that old elephant gun that I inherited from my grandpa.”
The large ferret settled down on the carpet next to the raccoon.
“I think the fact that you’re 5’10 would have freaked them out alone,” the ferret observed.
“It’s the details that count, Harper.”
The ferret sighed. Wright could literally smell the confusion off the mustelidae. Wright picked at his teeth. He’d taken the opportunity to have a peanut butter sandwich. His tongue kept licking, not only his inner jaws, but about his muzzle. Odd sensation.
“The world is amazing where I’m from, so many bright things and swoopy things, just a kaleidoscope of oddness smooshed into a fuzzy society.”
“Sounds fun.”
“When the leeways between time and space opened, only made sense to scamper to and fro, led by the crystallized trails to imaginative souls, those that dream of a better place. That’s why I’m here, Wright, those times you look out at the landscape and see possibly you just can’t touch, dreams that you can’t follow. Wouldn’t it be all much better if you could be part of those impossibities…”
The ferret raised a paw and the ceiling cracked open. Not by means of a bathtub falling through, the light fixture and debris crushing them. It wrinkled open, a seam being pulled out so that the things Harper talked about could be seen. Creatures mulling about in a world that contained sights that shouldn’t exist, a menagerie of dreams incarnate, close enough to poke.
“Come on, Wright…you know you want to.”
“No,” Wright said. The world sealed itself up. “The mere idea that such a place exists is enough for me. Gives me a new point of view. If I went there, and found it was exactly what I imagined it would be, it would take all the magic away from my heart. And though it would be there to feel and touch and live, I don’t think it would quite be the same. You know, how dreams are never as cool if you try to describe them aloud, I think the same if I gave up my life here to become a fox…or a raccoon or…”
“A marmot.”
”…or a marmot in another world. Seems like cheating, really.”
“Not so. There’s also tubes you can slither through.”
So Wright made Harper a toasted cheese and bacon sandwich, and sent the ferret on his way.
“You’re certain,” Harper said through a full muzzled bite of the sandwich, “The opening is still open.”
Wright, back to his human self, bit his lip, then slowly shook his head. “Maybe for a vacation, spring break. If I could be a pine marten, of course. Thanks, Harper.”
The ferret gave a devious bacon bit grin and saluted. “Sounds good, Wright. Oh, and one more thing, the genetic stuffs. Has some side effects. Don’t be too distraught if you find yourself eating a moldy half of a sauerkraut sub sandwich from the garbage. That be instinctual remnant…” He turned to leave, then ferrety tail twitching, turned back before scampering through the crack of time and space, “And at all costs, avoid hamsters.”
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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