User:Slyfordtrabbit/As For Sly...
From Shifti
As For Sly...
I'm a pretty nice squirrel, keeping my site on the 'net alive and kicking. I am a writer and programmer, and my work is often posted here. Thinking my life is interesting enough for people to see, I’ve published my daily journal on the Internet. As for Sly…
I was always a nice boy in school, good reputation and all. People loved me around the grounds, and I had few enemies to contend with. In fact, everyone I saw at school always put on a smile and a hello as I walked by. All my friends could count on me for a laugh, and often came to me with their troubles. That would all change soon enough.
I was my first year of high school. Scientists made a bold discovery in the field of genetics; they finally unraveled the mystery of human DNA. In a way, they had a catalogue of every human trait and how to change them. Ideas and prophecies of implementations of the discovery were abound, and new ground was broken every day.
Like everyone else, I didn't put much thought to the mapping of the human genome. What did it matter to me - rambunctious teenager just getting out of high school, ready to take life by the horns? I passed it off; said it wouldn't matter to me at all.
Boy, was I wrong.
Time passed, and I started into college and poured over my studies. I bought an apartment just outside of Bloomington, right beside my college. My final project took the shape of working with my cohorts on the "thinking robot of the future." I loved the consuming work, and the new system kept me busy all the time..
As I said, the work on the machine was involving, and I completely missed the national announcement about bioterrorism in the states. From what I understand now, terrorists wanted the world to know the dangers of genetic mutations. XLRS1 is truly a nasty bug. Only a select few had the proper organization for the ghastly mutation to take its toll, myself in the select few.
It’s really strange, this XLRS1 bug. Instead of releasing the virus into the air, these radicals put the virus in imported gasoline. Using this devious strategy, they managed to contaminate a few tanks. The authorities grabbed hold of the terrorists before they could contaminate the entire nation. What remained was enough to do an immense amount of damage.
The first few months really took their toll on me. In fact, I can still remember the first day I spotted the change. My day at the lab went as planned. We took our robot to the gym to teach him to play racquetball. Unfortunately, that also entailed us playing hours of the demanding game. After many tries, the robot managed to hold its own against a complete stranger we pulled from the crowd. Exhausted, we retired to the showers.
I didn’t notice the signs of change. As the water poured over me, my friend Joe pointed it out to me. A small patch of brown hair looked really out of place. Thinking it unsightly, I shaved it off with my razor. We laughed about it as we took the robot back.
My panic didn’t start until I woke up the next day. Everything was just fine, except for when I looked into the mirror. The hair didn’t go away; it spread halfway down my back. Of course, I freaked out and took a razor to it again. I didn’t tell anyone about it, and went on with my life like nothing was wrong.
The next day, the hair was back in full force. Thinking something must be wrong, I took the day off to see my doctor. My trip to the doctor revealed nothing wrong, and I was given pills to take. He said it must be abnormal hair due to testosterone overloads from the extreme exercise. It relieved me to have a reason for the strange phenomenon, and to have something concrete to do about it. A million pills couldn’t prepare me for what I saw next.
Two days of pill-popping followed, while the hair continued over my body. After the first embarrassing day at the lab (think Wolfman), I took another sick leave. The second day consisted of me convulsing on the bed with fear. On the third day, I woke up to see a strange, half-human half-rodentine face in my mirror. It looked like that of a rat, melted over my human visage. Hair (or, as I started to refer to it, fur) thinly covered my face in a dark brown fluff. My nerves completely crashed at that moment, and I passed out onto the floor. My neighbor called the hospital when he heard my subconscious screaming.
I woke up in the hospital tied down to my bed, heavily sedated, and completely alone. The third was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and sent me into a screaming fit. A nurse heard the noise, walked in, shook her hands in anxiety, and yelled for the doctor. He came running in and held my shoulder tightly. I couldn’t stop yelling until he called for the nurse to sedate me again.
Only when I was partially conscious could he begin his incredulous diagnosis. With a heavy sigh, he calmly explained that I was becoming a squirrel. This evoked a reaction of shock from me, since I still thought it absurd. He then pointed out the XLRS1 scare, and suddenly I understood.
My heart sank. I knew what would happen soon enough. They wanted me for observation, but I refused. Camping media members flocked me with offers, but I pushed them away. I wanted to change in peace. More precisely, I wanted to be alone and away from those bodies I’ll grow to envy.
The doctor said he couldn't be sure how far the transformation would go. Unfortunately, there is no documentation on XLRS1. We were flying blind; there was nothing we knew for sure. He didn't secure my memory, and wasn't sure how my transformed brain would think and react to very human function. Flatly, he told me I could cease to be anything even remotely resembling a human. Daggers to my heart.
The trip home was a long one; I had to refrain from tearing the neck off the annoying kid beside me. "What's wrong, misther?" he said with a lisp, "You look tho furry!" Everyone stared at me in distaste, but never said a word. When I got up from my seat, everyone doubled back in fear.
I ran from the bus stop straight to my apartment, and from the door straight to my computer. Tears flowed from my eyes as I furiously wrote down every detail of my life into the computer. If my mind were to go, I wanted the knowledge to survive somewhere. The most draining document I’ve ever written closely followed – my will. After I finished it, I collapsed on the keyboard and cried my eyes out.
The next few days were a fury of calls to everyone I knew. I told work I was taking sick leave, and told my parents the outright truth. We cried together by wire for the longest time, until I had the strength to hang up. As for my friends, I told them I had the gene, but didn't tell them the possibilities and predicted apex.
Once my last call was placed, the real transformation began almost as if on cue. My tail grew in explosively, ripping my best pair of pants right in two. Lacking something else to do, I worked on learning the dexterity of my tail until the next slew began. It felt weird, as the new sensations seemed to come from thin air. I had to look at the tail every few seconds, since I still didn’t believe it existed. I sat on it once to see if it was a dream, and the pain gave a simple answer pointing to reality. A few hours passed until the final phase began.
By now, I was absolutely terrified. I knew what the doctor said; the final phase was where the mind went, if it did at all. There wasn't much time to pray to the deities; the transformation was instantaneous.
Changing felt beautiful and absolutely unbearable at once. The pain was so vivid, yet so pulchritudinous. Bones cracked as they met with their new form, hands and feet were deformed into the ingenious paws of the graceful species. When the improved senses kicked in, the sensory information made me begin to black out. I cursed myself; if I lost my mind, I wanted to see it go...
Colors crossed my view, dizzying and calming all at once. I felt like I was flying, free of all troubles in my life. It scared me at first, but eventually soothed me into giving myself to the flying formations. A warmth welled up inside of me as a true life change came over my body.
My headache was the only thing apparent when I first awoke. The improved vision made my head spin for a minute, but I was able to hold down the nausea until it passed. I could smell some sort of food in the room with me, along with bare whispers surging through a crowd. They cheered when I crawled over to the now gigantic dinner table.
"You made it," My friend of many years spoke. I recognized him! My mind was intact!
"How did you guys know?" I asked. As he spoke, I looked around the room. Things looked so monstrous now…
"Well, squirrels are pretty good at voicing distress," my friend jeered, "and you were no exception. That scream was enough to wake the dead!"
"I don't remember screaming..." I paused, remembering how the doc had warned me about the effects of instinct. "So, how do I look?"
"Well, I called the doc over immediately, and he says you're going to be fine. Walking is out of the question, though, and I suggest getting some sort of stepladder for around the house..." Embarrassed, I look around to see I have shrank. Laughing, I see my forepaw has an out-of-place opposable thumb.
“What is this?" I sit up in a squirrel-like squat. "Opposable thumbs?"
"Yeah, I know. It's odd that those survived... At least you can keep your job now. Arrangements are already being made."
"Great. This isn't so bad after all..." A smile crosses my face; this may not be as bad as I made it out to be! A silence followed, and I looked down at my new form. I tried to take a few steps, but failed as I stumbled onto my forepaws. In almost every facet I was a squirrel tried and true. My fur’s deep red color stopped only at my chest, where it lightened to a tan color. A muzzle protruded from my face, occupying the lower part of my vision. The joints of my legs transmuted, and were set so I couldn’t walk upright. The best I could manage is a halfway standing slouch.
“I have to get your picture,” he pulled out a camera without warning and snapped a photo. The flash triggered a comical reaction out of me, sending me into a flat run for the nearest chair. I nuzzled myself under the recliner, shivering in fear. He apologized for spooking me, but the damage was already done. Here I was, transformed from a loud, outgoing man into a cowering, fearing squirrel.
And so my new life began. For better or worse, I was along for the ride.
Today marked the first day of my new life. I would have to say I could get to loathe my new form. I only did one good thing today, but the rest was only bearable because of necessity. Perhaps I should explain my “day from hell.”
It all started in the morning. I couldn’t sleep at all last night, until I set up a rope gym of sorts to sleep in. I couldn’t stand laying down on such a wide bed in plain sight! The position made me paranoid. Once the gym was erected, I settled down to an extremely light sleep inches below the ceiling.
Flash forward to morning. My alarm goes off, and I spastically tumble out of my rope gym right onto the hard floor. The impact bruised me pretty well, but the trouble didn’t stop there. From the floor, I rolled into a flat run right into a cubbyhole below my bed. It took ten minutes of coaxing to pull me out of that hole!
The next puzzle approached me as I stumbled out from under the bed. My closet’s doorknob was about three feet out of reach. I sprinted about the house, collecting all sorts of stepping stools to reach that prestigious doorknob. With a sense of accomplishment, I reached over to the doorknob, worked the latch, and jumped onto it to swing the door open.
When the closet door opened, I realized what a fool I was. None of my clothes would fit me! I looked down at my body, racking my brain in a futile attempt to concoct a solution. Suddenly, I realized I had fur to cover my body. It would be a large change, but with time I would get aquatinted to it.
The clock flashed 7:30. I was 30 minutes late already, and I haven’t even begun to start breakfast. The matter was further complicated with the fact that I still couldn’t reach the cabinets. I settled with a bagel that was stored in the very bottom drawer. As I started into it, I realized I didn’t need as much food in this form. Satisfied with half a bagel, I ran outside to see the bus trail off.
No problem, right? I thought I’d just call a cab. That turned out to be harder than I thought it ever could be. Every cab that motored by missed my call, since I was too small for them to see. Eventually, I caught one at a stoplight. Knowing that this was my opportunity, I flew up the light pole and down onto his hood. After I explained myself, he graciously gave me a ride for half-fare. I think he felt sympathy for me.
I’m now two hours late to the lab. The doors at the university offered their own problems. I didn’t have the strength to open the damn things! I’ve always prided myself on my strength. My wrestling in high school gave me the discipline to keep in good condition. In disgust, I called for a secretary to help me into the lab.
Everyone stared, suddenly forgetting all the transformation chaos I caused. Every last one of the people in that room were there when I transformed, and suddenly they stared at me like they never saw this squirrel before. They refused to believe, like it may have been a dream. Believe me, I tried to deny the reality myself.
“Oh, it’s Sylvester,” Joe spoke up, pausing to conjure a polite thing to say, “how are you… feeling?”
“Not quite myself,” I reply, laughing weakly.
“Don’t worry, it will all be better soon enough. Maybe you need a name change! Maybe the space will make you feel a little better, you know, help you let go.” He words were cold, but true.
I sat for a second, coming to a standing stance to ponder the thought. “How about Sly?” Everyone approved.
“So it’s decided. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Sly Squirrel!” I felt a little better, but still like an animal on display. The thought passed through my mind quickly, and I ignored it as work began.
They set up a computer for me, and I took to it immediately. In reality, only the keyboard took a size cut. I still sat in front a screen fully twice my height, and that scared me. Though the experience was unnerving, I continued in routine fashion.
The robot was working puzzles today. Even he was towering over me; I went to reset the tests and it stared down at me with its remote camera. He doesn’t have the luxury of human understanding, so I’m still foreign to him. This Sly isn’t the Sylvester imbedded deep in his silicon memory, and I tend to agree with him.
As work picked up, I forgot about all the new sensory information coming in from around the lab. In fact, the epiphany only hit me when I left the building. Joe offered me a ride home, which I graciously accepted. He didn’t talk much, and I initiated conversation when I told him to stop at the park across the street from my apartment. He complied, and I sent him off with a friendly good-bye.
I thought that if I was a squirrel, I might as well enjoy the form to the fullest extent. With an instinctual leap, I started into the first tree I saw. I had never climbed a tree before, until my claws dug into the sweet bark of that birch. From there, I forgot who I was and let my body take over.
Sylvester didn’t exist out in that forest; it was all Sly’s doing. My feet picked out the exact landing spots for every step, and I leaped from tree to tree with deadly accuracy. It was exhilarating; I’ve never gone that fast in my life! With remorse I left the park, turning my back to the setting sun.
And finally came this very entry. I ordered a computer made especially for me with the emergency money I packed away for college. Until then, I’m stuck squatting on the counter by the keyboard and picking the words out key by key. Every key is a sharp reminder of my new form.
My classes are all over; all that’s left is accepting the diploma. I plan to avoid the large ceremony; it’s embarrassing enough to be this squirrel I am now, and having my name bumbled at the ceremony would compound matters. It’s ironic; I came into this college Sylvester Stone, and I’m leaving Sly Squirrel. I feel like a new man.
I’m staying with the project. Since we own rights to the robot, my cohorts and I are taking the profit from the selling of our work. The grant has been extended, so we still have access to the lab. I can’t wait to get recognition for this wonderful product!
I can’t get over it. A few days ago, I was the man of the hour. Everyone knew me, and I could walk up to any person on the street and make their day. They knew me before I walked up: I was human, and they shared a common link in that way. Suddenly, I have the strangest label on my head: outcast.
So, what is it like to be an outcast? Emotionally, it's tough. Everyone looks away when they see me, and those those who do look glare with discontent. Children shy away, like I'm a monster. It's hard to get a job or a loan when you're so furry people won't take you seriously. Overall, the experience is bearable.
~Sly
Now, I did have one ugly experience... There was this little skirmish I had one fine day, one that made me more careful than ever. Let's start out with this simple fact: squirrels have powerful flight reflexes, and want to get altitude when they feel in danger. My friend thought it would be fun to take me out for a surprise on April Fool's Day. I should have known better...
I was led into the convention center, sure it was a Science Fiction convention or some other tasteful venue. They had me blindfolded, and my ears plugged. Something was going on, but I was too polite to stop them. I let them have their way, and they took me where they would. When they took off the hinderments to my senses, though, I freaked out.
They took me to a dog show. There sat hundreds of dogs, baying like hounds before The Hunt. Canines of all kinds dropped their petty showmanship to stare at the hart that just walked in. They drooled with delight, ready for a good chase and maybe a meal. I knew that face; my dog had it one time when he saw his first rabbit.
I remember all too well. My dog just ran out through the forest, barking up a storm. The rabbit never had a chance, really. The canine grabbed the poor lapin's neck and snapped it in two. That experience was ironically twisted here; suddenly I was to be the prey.
My conscious thought froze; I had no control over my body. My limbs were like lead, unmoving and useless. I stood like a deer in the headlights, staring at these lethal killers running straight for my feeble body. Everyone gasped around me, as my friends screamed at me to get out of the way.
That’s when the voice of instinct took control, “Run, you idiot!” Instinct took over, and I sprinted up the nearest girder. My friends were already gaping; they didn't expect this to happen! It was there I stayed for hours, frozen in the fetal position.
The entire place had to be evacuated and myself sedated before the commotion was finished. My human friends apologized; they weren't aware of how full the transformation really was. I don't blame them. They can't understand how twisted a mind can be when survival is concerned. I only hope they never know.
~Sly
I went shopping today only out of necessity. The excursion served a double purpose: my supplies were running low and I needed to get back into human company. Since the transformation, I tried to keep away from people. For some reason, I just can’t take the attention. When I was human, I would have loved it.
When I was human… it sounds like it was years ago. So much I wish I could accept that, somehow falsely accept that my human life was only a dream. It would be much easier that way; then I could come to terms with being a squirrel. That way, I could simply believe I’ve always been this way. Unfortunately, that’s all rubbish.
But why can’t I make my own dream world? I would feel so much better that way. Maybe I could shun away the world, living my fantasy alone and in peace. It’s too bad that I can’t accept such a false premise; my mind is far too logical.
It’s a nightmare. Wait, it’s worse than a nightmare; I can’t wake up. Here I am, suddenly wishing an antisocial life of seclusion. Everything I cherished is gone, especially all of my pride. I was proud to be a easygoing man. I was proud to have friends that loved me, cared for me, and shared a common trait with me. Most of all, I was proud to be human.
Humanity: suddenly the concept stretches its bounds. In the beginning it was quite simple; one was either human or they weren’t. Now, different bands and shades of humanity spark up helter-skelter. I’m no longer human – at least not in full.
But back to the shopping trip. Getting to the strip mall wasn’t a problem. Over the last few days, I’ve learned that punctuality leads to a easy commute. The bus may be a little nerve-wrecking, but it’s far better than the extreme measures I take to get a taxi!
Take a bus sometime; it’s an experience you’ll never forget. It’s like a Creole calabash: you name it, it’s probably on the bus at one time or another. A small, shrewd businessman sat in the back corner staring nervously at documents. Loud music poured over the ramshackle bus, emanating from a hardcore punk rocker in back. Two small kids talked loudly in front of the bus, earning sneers from those in close vicinity.
And then there was me. Everyone stopped to look at what came into the bus, though they didn’t see much. The driver, who knew me from a previous trip, looked down and said hello. I stood up on my hind legs and handed my fare to him between my teeth. Scattered gasps let me know that the bus knew of my presence.
I hate people who are afraid of what they don’t know. As I scampered down the aisle, everyone squeezed outwards to indicate “seat taken.” Eventually, I found my way beside the aggressive punk rocker in the back. The loud, boisterous bus started up again, suddenly deathly silent. The kids were whispering up front in a tone so low I may not have heard it without my enhanced squirrel hearing.
“What’s with the rodent?” the smaller one asked, “is he trained or something?
“I’ve heard of them,” the other replied, “they’re human, but not.”
“Like some sort of sideshow attraction?”
“Yeah. We should play freak show sometime…” they went on planning their carnival show, with the idea centering around a “rabid rodent king” whom I assumed would be a libel of me. It hurt to hear such innocent children playing their childish and naïve games around my misfortune. I wiped the tears from my eye in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the rocker’s stereo.
The bus stopped, and nearly everyone filed out into the strip mall. The two kids said goodbye to the “squirrel freak,” and ran off to the park to live out their sideshow fantasy. With their annoying presence finally gone, I continued on towards the grocer.
My first embarrassing moment happened at the door. Sadly enough, my miniscule girth was not enough to trigger the automatic door. In fact, I had to wait for another customer to step on to trigger the door. If that wasn’t enough, the next act of indiscretion really set me off.
A greeter sat by the door, handing out coupon sheets to incoming customers. He missed me, of course, so I had to pull on his pant leg to get his attention. Imagine his surprise when a squirrel asked him for a coupon sheet! As I walked on, I turned to hear him say “My mind must be going.”
A harsh realization overcame me as I started shopping. I had no means for getting the foodstuffs, let alone transporting them home! The bus and old man brushed over me, but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I screamed in anguish, loud and high-pitched like the squirrel I was. That brought another emotion: hopelessness.
“Damn this infernal curse!” I screamed aloud, “Damn this store! Damn this food! Damn this squirrel form! Damn… Damn…” I collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably from the emotional pain. It felt like a burning deep in the mind, afterward rubbed with rock salt and isopropyl alcohol. The pain wouldn’t leave my mind alone; I curled into the fetal position, covering my ears to block out the world. Why wouldn’t it all go away?
“Are you… okay?” a large hand picked me up off the hard, cold linoleum. It pulled me closer to its body, and the body heat calmed me enough to look up. With a deep breath, I turned and faced the largest rabbit I had ever seen.
I gasped in surprise. For a rabbit, she was very well-to-do. In all reality, her looks were primarily human. All of her skeletal structure retained its human look. She wore a casual white T-shirt and pants, though the T-shirt blended in with her lovely white fur. The back of her jeans had a hole for her puffy tail to poke through. She smiled at me with her very human lips, which connected to her prominent muzzle. One ear flopped down over her face, and she brushed it out of her eyes. The sight reminded me of a child going out on Halloween in a decently put together costume.
“You’re… a rabbit!” I exclaimed. She had to be five feet tall, though from my angle everyone is monstrous.
“Yeah, silly, aren’t you a squirrel?” she replied, chucking softly. She sobered and looked me right in the eye. “What’s eating you? You sound a little distressed.” The understatement broke a little of the ice; she made me comfortable somehow.
“Well, you couldn’t say I’m altogether happy,” I start in with my own understatement, “There’s so much I can’t do. Look at me; I can’t even do something as simple as buy groceries!” Her brow furrowed, then suddenly lifted with an idea.
“All you need to fix that is a shopping buddy!” she said simply, “If you want, I’d help you.”
“Just like that?” I couldn’t believe it. “You don’t even know my name and you’d be willing to commit to a daily job just like that?”
“Trust me, you need it. Besides, we won’t be strangers for long. I’m Kate Ponduro,” She did her best to shake my hand; the gesture was enough to warm my soul, “Shall we shop? I guess you need some goods, and I’ll be happy to help… what is your name?”
But a frigid block of ice still laid heavy on my heart. “The name’s Sly, and thanks for trying to help. It’s not enough, though. Look at me; I’m a squirrel!” I pointed out items without heart; I didn’t think about the shopping at all for she had all of my attention.
“Ah, so that’s it?” she drew a conclusion suddenly, pulling down a few cans of corn.
“Come again?” I thought I’d bite; might as well take her advice; she’s given me no reason to disbelieve her so far. Before she answered, she patted her shoulder.
“Why don’t you come up here? When you’re down there I’m afraid that someone will stomp on you,” she smiled a little as I stood pat, “Namely, I don’t want to step on you.” Her laughing made my will collapse and I stepped onto her shoulder.
“That’s what I mean,” I started in my own self-pity, “At any time someone could step on me and I’ll be dead!” The trek continued onto the fresh foods aisle.
“That’s easy to fix. You just have to travel with people.” She started eyeing produce, namely a batch of celery.
“It’s just that I love… or loved being independent,” She looked at me and frowned.
“I know it’s an adjustment. You’re just not comfortable with your new form yet.” She threw the celery in the air, catching it with a swiping motion and throwing it in the cart. “In a way, you can’t take everyone looking at you so funny.”
“Why shouldn’t I care about those staring faces?” My voice picks up in volume; she picked a ripe tomato from the table and fingered it gingerly.
“Because they don’t understand. Live your life the way you want to. It’s the only way you’ll get used to the form.” She put the tomato in the cart as I desperately searched for a retort. I opened my mouth to send another argument her way, but she stopped me cold. “Wait, I know just the thing. We’re taking a trip.” Immediately, she paid for the groceries and left for her car.
Not knowing how to react, I silently and solemnly stepped into her car. Its engine flared up with demonic but calming power. Kate put the vehicle into drive and started off in silence. I didn’t dare ask where she was taking me, though I oddly trusted her.
I still don’t know why I even got in that car with her. Maybe it was the fact she was a rabbit. Maybe I thought her facade made her trustworthy and noble. Whatever triggered my trust was completely correct, for she never put anything on me against my will.
“I’m going to show you something you may not appreciate now,” she said solemnly, “but someday you’ll look back upon it and realize what may have happened to you. Here we are!”
She stopped in front of the asylum. “Are you crazy?” I got out of the car, dumbfounded.
“No, but these guys are,” She laughed softly. “Come on, the tour is just beginning.” Orderlies opened the doors for us, and Kate whispered something in one’s ear. He nodded, then led us down a hallway.
At this point, I didn’t know what to expect. She looked down and furrowed her brow. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.” The man opened the door into a dark room. We stepped into the darkness and the door was shut behind us. My mind reeled; I didn’t like being in such a vulnerable position, more so since my squirrel instincts started into full force.
Kate didn’t let the suspense last long. “Hit the lights,” she spoke to the air. A small void of absolute no-thought followed, until finally the lights snapped on with a large thud and buzz. That’s when I saw what Kate was aiming for.
Hundreds of furry blobs immediately sprinted for the corners, shivering with fear. They were different sizes and shapes, mixing human and lapin forms in strange ways. I stared blankly at the shivering masses, but Kate only sighed and reached out to a few. The few she came in contact with relaxed the slightest bit and started towards me.
“These are all the Jims and Joes that couldn’t take the pressure,” Kate started into what seemed a pre-planned soliloquy, “They fell to instinct and depression.” One of the smaller ones sniffed at my arm; I reached over and he sprinted away. “They’re so scared that they’ve lost their human minds. You are only a few steps away.”
A long pause followed as the epiphany hit me. “Really? I never thought anything serious could happen to me. It always happens to someone else.”
“Every ‘somebody’ affected by something has to be just that: somebody. It’s simple probability; you have the same chances of catching something as the guy next door.”
“So, I could have very well gone insane?” I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Worse. At least insanity lets you keep your human thought patterns.” Kate’s voice fell over me like ice rain.
“I’ve seen enough. Let’s go, please.” I walked towards the door as an orderly switched off the lights and opened my escape route. Kate silently shadowed me out to the car. She started back out onto the road, letting the distance calm my nerves.
“So, what have we learned?” her voice changed from hard to warm and caring.
“I know I’ll get used to this sometime,” my reply was oddly wholehearted. I knew that I would adapt. The will to survive welled up within me and my mind rose to the challenge. I led her down the street down to my apartment.
“Hey, take this,” she pulled out a book from the glove compartment and absentmindedly signed it. “It’s my book. I’m an author, you know,” she was so calm about the fact, though I was enamored with the fact.
“Wow! I write, but what I write is all crap,” I reply, “third door on the left.”
“Nothing is crap if it comes from the heart,” she affirmed my desires, “just some people don’t take to it as easily.”
“Thanks. You don’t realize how much that means to me.” She smiled and stopped in front of my house.
“Anytime I can make someone’s day I make it my mission to do so. Hey, I’ll make you another little promise. Why don’t you come with me to the Furs-Only tomorrow?” I almost dropped the small bag I had balanced on my back.
“The what?”
“It’s a furry bar where everyone there acts like you and I do. I put the directions in the book for you.” She set down my bag and started to put the food away in the lower cabinets.
“Wow! Sounds good,” my heart sank, “but I’ll never get a ride. As you can see, I really don’t have a car at the time.”
She frowned, but suddenly perked up. “Tell you what; tomorrow at five I’ll pick you up,” she said, “don’t worry about dressing up; the more casual the better.”
“Wonderful. I could use some casual company.”
“Okay, then, goodbye!” And she was gone.
It was like a dream. As she walked towards her car and drove off, I didn’t know if she was real or not. Her entire being may have very well saved my life. The willingness to help really took me by surprise. Who knew people like that existed anymore?
Nonetheless, I’m still glad she found me at the right time. Without her, I may have been in the looney bin right now.
~Sly
My first tavern experience turned out to be the best time of my life. Unfortunately, my day wasn’t all fun and games. It started out wonderfully, sent me into the gutter, and shot me back into cloud nine by the time I came home. In this way the day was very invigorating; the constant changes made for an interesting experience.
I’ll start with the labor around the house. For most of the morning, I set about rigging my house for a new life. My creative and mechanical talents came into play as I accommodated for my unorthodox existence. My first task involved making a list of materials. Most of the things I used are pretty cheap: partially brought about by my poverty, but otherwise by my inability to work with wood with any positive result. As we all know, small bodies can’t operate hand drills all too well.
My materials consisted mainly of supple mesh, pulleys, and string. With these ingredients, I went about to every door and cupboard and set up opening mechanisms. A ladder usually reserved for toy dolls served the purpose of scaffolding for me. Starting with the problem of access, I created ladders and bridges of mesh to reach everything I needed to get to. It’s the most efficient use of space anyone could ever hope to achieve.
Since I had some extra mesh left, I made a highway close to the ceiling to play in. As the project progressed, I added ramps to get on every counter in my house. Running around on a nearly-translucent surface over the ground made me feel better about my form. Yeah, I turned my house into the ultimate play gym. When you’re this small, the cost of appropriately-sized equipment isn’t so bad.
With that gym I sailed through the air and rolled down a ramp to the phone. I thought I’d call my parents and let them know I was doing all right. The phone clicked over to their answering machine, and I started to leave a message. Their voices only came over the wire when I started to hang up. I heard in the background the faint echo of “better talk to the squirrel.”
My mom sounded very nonchalant. “Hello, Sylvester,” she called over the phone.
“I changed my name. It’s Sly now,” I reply, trying not to sound snappy. I’m sure I came across that way though; I’m tired of telling everyone I knew that my name is Sly!
“Fine by me, Sly,” she replied, “so how’s life treating you?”
“Well, it’s getting better,” I tried to sound happy, “I’m still getting over the change. It’s a little disorientating.”
“I could see that,” she chimed in emphatically.
“But things are looking up. I think I’ll have everything squared away just in time to visit for Christmas.” A pause surged through the wire. It pierced my ear with what was almost pain.
“Son, I think we’ll hold off on Christmas this year,” she said quietly.
“What? But isn’t it tradition?” I didn’t understand where the conversation was going, though probably I should have seen it sooner.
“That XLRS1 that you caught… we’re not sure if it’s contagious, and we don’t want to get it..” She coughed politely on the other end.
“Mom, that’s a lie. We know for fact XLRS1 isn’t contagious.” I heard her shuffle in her seat on the other end.
“Honey, it’s your father,” her voice quieted down immensely, like she was withholding a secret.
“What’s the deal? Is he paranoid or something?” I was so dumb. Why didn’t I see it?
My mom made sure I understood. “He can’t come to terms with you becoming a squirrel,” she confessed, “He thinks you did it on purpose.”
I heard him in the background, adding his two cents. “That damned rodent can just go to hell for all I care!” My dad didn’t usually swear; it took something very unsettling to dislodge such foul words. “Why are you even talking to him?”
“Don’t be too hard on him, dear,” she pleaded, “He’s still getting used to the premise of human animals.”
“That’s fine, mom,” I reply emptily, “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” The phone found the receiver without even waiting for her reply. For a second I just sat deathly still. I didn’t want to believe what I just heard on the phone.
My father just disowned me. He just passed judgement on me, his own son. It made me think; if my dad didn’t accept me, who would? The only person I’ve seen so far who would possibly relate to me is that Kate woman. She was one person in this world of countless millions. How many Kates could possibly populate this world, after all?
I could almost feel my heart sink. The feeling is getting awfully familiar to me; it’s kind of like sliding down a greased pole – once it starts, there’s no stopping until you hit bottom. Of course, the bottom isn’t the worst part. Anytime I feel like I’m getting close to starting my climb back, something trips me up and knocks me back to the bottom. The action repeats and all I get is winded.
The pounding door gave me the strength to lumber over and pull the contraption open. Kate stood over me, smiling warmly. Her demeanor spilled over onto me, warming my broken soul the slightest bit. She leaned over to look me in the eyes, paused, and asked what happened. I just told her I had a little disagreement with my parents. If this place was as good as she said it was, then maybe she would find out eventually.
She turned on soft contemporary music as we got into the warmed car. Old Man Winter already wrapped the air with a cold chill, and the warm car welcomed us with salvation. “I see you redecorated?” she asked as she pulled out of my driveway. The headlights cut through the darkness and lit up only the small portion of road directly in front of us.
“Well, yes. I had some extra material from where I made my house accessible,” I reply smugly, “You like it?”
“It’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, “I wish I could run around in it! It’s not fair; you get to act like a kid again, and this time you have the coolest play gym anybody could ask for.”
“Thanks,” I reply nonchalantly, “So, what should I expect at this ‘Furs-Only’?”
“Love and caring,” her voice turned warm and candid, “Just expect what you would from good friends.”
“Sounds good. But is there some etiquette I need to know about furs? You know, like some sort of cultural taboos or something?” She laughed in reply.
“If there was anything you needed to learn, all our work would be for naught,” she spoke triumphantly, “We pride ourselves on keeping a casual home. Everyone is taken at face value,” her face lit up, and she pointed at a small cove. “Right there, there it is!”
“That little cove? That’s it?” Where were the lights? Where was the neon sign?
“Sure is. That’s the beauty of it,” her tone of pride was prominent. As she drove into the arc of trees, I realized where her pride came from.
I’ve said this about a precious few things in my life, but that building was one of the most beautiful sights these eyes have passed over. The dark trees pointed to the quaint building that grew from the center of the clearing. Spots of light poked through the log exterior, held in by wood and glass. Shadows danced upon the exiting light, animating the clearing in formless shapes of soft light. The car sputtered off and the door ajar tone rang through the car, pulling me out of the vehicle almost as if on cue.
The grass below me chilled my belly, but the texture of the soft sod felt good on my fur. Dew played on each blade, transferring itself onto me at every step. Night was in the air, both in feel and in smell. Aromas of pine and birch assaulted my sinus cavities, reminding me of happy nights of hide and seek out in the woods. Crickets filled the air with their sweet serenade of the moon. Without the car to hinder my vision, the thin slice of moon above opened my eyes to the subtle beauty of the clearing.
But the sounds emanating from the bar completely intoxicated me. People in that bar were screaming, laughing, and carrying on like they didn’t care what people thought. A jukebox played a loud and rambunctious honky-tonk song. Ironically, the most comforting part was the animal cries coming from inside. Suddenly, I knew they would accept me.
That one moment time I shall remember forever. In that one moment, I realized that someone accepts me. No matter how many people loathe my entire existence with blind hatred, somebody will think I’m one of the greatest people they’ve ever met. I smiled, for I knew just then that I would have companions, cohorts, and most importantly friends.
Maybe that’s why Kate took interest in me. Maybe she realized my pain of loneliness. Maybe she just wants everyone to be happy. I care, but it’s not altogether important at the time. All that matters is that I owe my sanity and my happiness to her intervention. I’ll ask sometime later.
“Are you ready to go in?” she asked. I shook off my ponderous thoughts and turned to the door.
“I think I’ve been ready for this moment all my life,” I reply, scampering up to the door and waiting for her to open it for me. She didn’t waste any time, and opened the door to the homeliest sight I’ve seen in my life.
“Hey, it’s Kate!” A large bear looked up from a pool table in the corner. Counting him, only five people occupied the place.
“Yeah, I brought Sly along today. You know, the one I was telling you guys about?” Everyone looked down at me, smiled, and waved me over to the hearth.
The inside of the Furs-Only completely contradicted the simple exterior. Every wall radiated with soft yellow light, brought out with the leaded-glass shades on the lamps above. Space was no problem, though the main room wasn’t so big it terrified me. In fact, it was cozy while remaining spacious. The walls kept the natural look of log and grout, making the place feel like a cozy log cabin.
When I walked in, the beautiful bar pulled my attention. Taking up an entire wall, it reminded me of some cheery corner shop. The stools reminded me of a soda fountain, formed of shiny aluminum and capped in a deep red upholstery. Dark, rich varnished wood added flavor and personality to the bar itself, on top of the meticulous design on the countertop. A mirror lined the entire wall, but it was frosted over with different floral designs at the corners and sides. Glasses hung above the serving counter, neatly kept with wooden rails. Liquors of every kind lined the mirror, almost like a one-sided pyramid of bottles.
Perpendicular to the bar was the stage. A karaoke machine creaked on the small platform, worn ragged from overuse. A singular mike stand took center stage and that was it. Raw entertainment, yes, but effective. The pool table beside the stage housed a bear and ferret at the time, playing pool like nothing was strange about walking and talking human/animal mixes playing billiards. The light above the table cast odd shadows on the pair, making them look intimidating.
The dining area in the near corner dimly reflected the bright lights from the other parts of the room. A thin layer of dust covered the tables, revealing to me that I missed the crowd by a few days or more. Standard fare of restaurants filled this corner: tables and chairs, salt shakers and napkins, and silverware. It reminded me of a mom-and-pop diner – low quality yet homely.
On the wall opposite the bar was the hearth. It’s masonry accented the wall, the shale extending beyond the ceiling and extruding from the wall by a few feet. The fire popped cheerily, warming heart and soul. A hunter green throw rug laid the backdrop for a fireside chat, with throw pillows to sit upon. Two females rested beside the fire on the cushions. The fox and cheetah women chattered idly amongst themselves..
I still can’t get over the sight of humans with animal characteristics. They walk around like humans, and at first glance can be easily passed as a normal human being. Only their fur, tail, and face reveal the fact that they’re rabbits or cheetahs or whatever they happen to be. I’m almost glad that I’m not a “mixed breed”; at least I have a pre-defined identity!
“So, does he talk?” The fox-woman rose from her position and ambled over to me. She smiled and led me over to the fire, her tail swaying in rhythm to her steps. Cheetah-woman pulled out a pillow from under her body and laid it down for me to sit on. The guys from the pool table joined the group by the fire, pulling their pillows from the fox. She slapped them playfully, laughed, and turned to me.
“Anyway, we were just about to have you say something. How about it?” Her tone of sarcasm wasn’t hurtful; in fact it was rather pleasurable. The group, though a little intimidating, attracted my fancy right from the start. Everyone had a smile on their face, like friends in good company should…
“Well, I guess the fitting thing to say is hello,” my words stumbled out in a jumble, but they found their place as I went on, “You can call me Sly. Sly Squirrel.”
“What a wonderful name!” The fox-woman perked up, sending a smug grin to Kate. “My name is Caitlin. That’s Beth, Bo, Josh, and you know Kate already,” she pointed to the cheetah, bear, and ferret in order, and each waved in response. “So, what’s your story?” her stare returned to my face. Those blue globes pierced my soul; suddenly I felt incredibly transparent.
“What, my story?” I replied incredulously, “I’m sure it’s not that interesting.”
“Try me.” Beth said, purring a little under her breath. That cheetah almost scared me; her eyes, though blue, retained their feline construction. Those hunter eyes sent my instincts of prey running circles.
“Well, it all started at work one day…” My story started with reservation. In the beginning, I withheld details that I thought were a little personal. Their empathy was strong, and it led me to disclose every gruesome detail, to the last hair.
“That’s terrible! How could someone live like that?” the cheetah Beth jumped in. I smiled weakly for reasons unknown. Her sympathy made me happy for it meant she cared about me in some way.
“Today, on top of it all, I called my parents,” I didn’t think about what I was saying; the crowd was pulling it out of me. “My dad disowned me over the phone.” Everyone gasped, but nothing was said.
I took the time to look around at the people around the fire. Note I use people loosely. My attention glanced over Kate; I already had her visage etched deep within my mind. Darkness controlled the outdoors, and so the fire ruled over the dimmed indoor lighting. The flames played on everyone’s eyes, playing out a drama of gigantic miniscule proportions.
The ferret to my side smiled a little as he caught my stare. As he smiled, I remembered his name: Josh. He was like the rest: mostly human, with prominent characteristics of the animal he closely resembles. His fur interlaced patterns of black, burnt sienna, and cream. Stripes of these colors lanced through spots of darker shades of fur. His face reminded me of an ambitious child. I don’t think he ever stopped moving while I was there.
My gaze moved on as Josh’s spastic movements started to tire me out. The cheetah Beth locked her view with the fire. She didn’t notice everyone around her. Her tail swirled about her, almost giving her a look of impatience. But when I looked to her face – that soft, loving, caring face – I knew she loved every second of this companionship. Her eyes were blue, though the color looked out of place on a pair of cat-eyes. Her patterns of yellow, orange, and black further threw the blue eyes out of place.
A flailing tail pulled my attention from Beth. Caitlin smiled at me, obviously indulging in the same observational behavior I was. Our eyes locked, and I stared into her brown eyes like one stares at a puppy. Her entire body was extremely sleek – fitting since she was a fox. Once again, she also kept her human traits. Her coloring resembles mine; tan chest fur bordered by a darker brown, with all shades in between thrown in for flavor. The tail behind her had a life all its own, wagging about without rhyme or reason.
Her tail pointed me towards Bo. He sat silently in the corner, trying to look omnipotent. I kind of giggled at that; only a carnivore would do such a thing. Beyond that, his mouth turned into a wry smile. His fur was completely black, though that didn’t make him look evil. He was also like all the rest, retaining his human skeletal structure. Apparently, I’m a rare case.
Josh jumped in as my observations started to wane. “Things will work out eventually. I’m sure of it. That happened to me.”
“Really? And how did that go?” He pulled my attention, making me realize that everyone in this tavern has gone through the same transition as I.
“Yeah. About a month ago my father…”
I stopped him after I heard the mention of month. “A month? I’ve only been a squirrel for a week. How is it that you guys transformed before me?”
“Simple,” Caitlin leaned forward to signify her taking the floor. “the contamination hit different places at different times. Also, in some people XLRS1 took effect in only a few hours. Your infection probably remained dormant for a few weeks before everything came crashing down.” I nodded in silent reply, but Josh stopped me from saying anything.
“As I was saying, my father called me and gave me a serious dressing-down. He said I was a ferret by choice, and he refused to associate with such a wretch. In the beginning, I was heartbroken. How could he be so cold to the kid he loved so much? I let him simmer for a month, before calling him back. When he got on the phone, he immediately apologized. Now we’re closer than ever.”
“So you’re telling me to take it in stride?”
“Believe me,” Bo jumped into the conversation with a grave tone, “if you plan to live a happy life in this form, you have to let things slide every once in a while. If nothing makes you angry, then nothing gets under your skin. Therefore, you can still live life to the fullest.”
“Interesting philosophy,” a pause followed, giving the advice time to sink in.
Beth’s stare still fixated on my size. “How does it feel to be so small?” she asked, completely ignorant of how rude it sounded. Instead of offending me, though, it made me comfortable. Only between friends can one let their guard down, and that meant she considered me a sort of comrade.
“Well, it sucks,” I replied, laughing a little, “Every time I try to get help in a store the clerks can’t see me. When I walk on the street, I have to be constantly aware of the people around me. Most don’t look down and I get a foot in my tail,” everyone winced; apparently my experience wasn’t foreign to them. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its perks. I can climb trees at blazingly fast speeds, and perform some breathtaking acrobatics with little trouble. I guess it’s worth the trouble.”
“I’d say!” Beth replied, obviously a little envious. I watched her eyes bulge more and more as I explained what being a tiny person is like, and a sparkle crossed her cat-iris as I explained the experience of climbing trees. “All I can do is run fast. It’s pretty fun, but I’m not all to good at climbing trees,” she smiled evilly, “Of course, if there’s a plump squirrel on a branch, then I guess I could get out on that branch with not much of a problem,” I jumped a little as she flashed a claw at me, and she laughed.
“God, don’t do that!” I screamed, turning from my fetal position to look at her, “My nerves are really frayed.”
“Sorry about that, I couldn’t resist,” she laughed and put her hand on my back. The touch relaxed my twisted mind and pulled me from my fear and back into good company. My mind still churned, even though I was absolutely sure no harm would come onto me. It turned nonetheless, preparing for an invisible enemy. I guess that’s instinct for you.
Things went on in that vein for the longest time, and I started to honestly enjoy myself when I realized I had to go. Kate already predicted I would forget, and dropped a hint to get the ball rolling. With regret, I told my new friends goodbye. Amazingly enough, they seemed anxious to see me again.
I couldn’t get over that. I’ve felt this way before, but just not as powerfully as what just hit me now. They candidly wanted me to be in their presence. And I wanted to be with them. It put a smile on my face; finally I had true friends.
Kate drove me home, asking random questions about how the night went. I told her nothing could be better, and she didn’t question it. I’m sure she saw my smile when I said goodbye. Without many words I bade goodbye and headed for my home.
In my rope cradle my mind reeled. It all happened so fast. First, I get the biggest social shock of my life. And I can every day of my new existence up with the following:
Yesterday was terrible. Today was good. Tomorrow is looking better.
~Sly
It's been months since I've updated this. It's summer. People have been and gone, some to better lives, some to much worse situations. We've seen out share of good times and bad times. The place is just starting to bounce into the summer mood.
Today wasn't a great day. Everyone was lazing in the setting room, everyone being Bo, Caitlin, Kate, and Beth. Josh had an aerobics class to tend to. The day was clear, but not warm enough to be unbearable and uncomfortable. Apathy was the name of the game, and everyone was deadly silent. Only the jukebox played a solemn tune.
"I'm bored. Is there anything to do?" Beth was getting impatient.
"Anything new in town?" I ask. Beth lit up.
"Well, there is that new entertainment center in town, Sly. Who's ready for a little fun?" Everyone agreed, and Bo walked behind the bar to get the truck keys.
"In the truck! Time for a day out." Bo led us out the door, and into his old red truck. It was going to be a good day.
Fundamaton was new in all aspects. Screaming kids milled around the arcade, wasting their money on the redemption games. A large miniature golf course was located in a secluded forest. Nobody would see players when they were on that course. Go-karts laced the parking lot, diving and bounding over the spaces. It was like a dreamland, I guess.
Blues merged into pinks, into neon greens, merged back into blue to make the cycle complete. It was all beautiful, but all so humanized. Why can't people stick to the earthen-tones of beauty when designing an outdoor recreation center? I'll never understand it.
People of all types were going about their recreational business, playing and paying and ignoring everyone else. Not surprisingly, furs were completely absent from the scene. Most morphs don't go to these places; the ridicule makes the experience unbearable. It didn't seem that people minded the furred guests to the center, today.
We started with miniature golf. I've been over the disadvantage of being one foot tall, and here is no exception. As always, the clerk serving up clubs and balls was astounded to see an adult squirrel request a small club! I made do with a club fully four times my height, choking down on the shaft. Of course, I lost. The game was not honorable or dignitarious; I did a little espionage on everyone, knocking balls off course, making a nuisance of myself, and so forth. No longer do I care about competition; I usually lose.
The arcade offered its own challenges. Beth was kind enough to lift me onto the table where the controls lay. From there, I played with my feet on the buttons and hands on the joystick. The sight drew a crowd, of course. I always make a comical scene at the video arcade!
If there's one thing I miss about being human, it's pinball. I simply can't reach both flippers at once while watching the table! Eventually, I hope to rig up some sort of control device to allow me to play. Until then, I'm more than happy to criticize and poke fun at Beth's less-than-perfect game.
Bo and Caitlin played air hockey; they don't care much for video games. They were making quite a racket, and attracting a crowd with their crazy antics and fairly well played game. I even made it over for a few rounds, suddenly envious of their large bodies. I had to laugh at Kate's precarious position, though.
Kate played skee-ball, though she had a little hassle and mistaken identity at her side. Kate's about human size, and it seemed that she resembled the guy usually in the arcade wearing a rabbit suit. Little children clung to her, wanting candy or hugs. Kate, of course, freaked out when the kids mirrored her every move. Thankfully, a sympathetic worker calmly explained to the students that Kate "Wasn't floppy. She is just a rabbit-morph." The kids were heartbroken, and repulsed that they had associated with a furry. Ironically, Kate was distrot when her flunkies departed with "she's a FURRY?" and "eeeew! Furry Cooties!" I hate that trait among people.
It's hard to avoid. Mass media, television, radio and all portray our population as slobs or monsters. Why can't they just see what we really are: humans with slighted viewpoints and bodies? Even children's programming gives a bad name to the furry life. In these monstrosities, we are eternally polite and nice or deadly and mutogenic. Most furries have boycotted mass media, me being among the majority.
The go-karts were a let down. Even after attempting to coax the operator, they wouldn't let me ride. I was too small. I'm the only small one in the group, usually, no matter whom I associate with. Everyone rode anyway, only after I insisted they go ahead. The kids were all taller than me, and they thought I would like a petting. Yet another disadvantage of being furred in a human world. It took some explaining to convince the children that I was not on display, and they kept their distance from then on. The day was waning, and we were heading for the truck. It wasn't a clean getaway.
"And where do you think you're going?" The teenager in front of us laughed, followed by a chorus of jeers from his peanut gallery. Wolves always travel in packs; then they don't have to be strong.
"Home, if you're wondering." Bo replied, walking towards his truck, "if you'd like to join us, just hop in." The bear smiled sarcastically. The ringleader slammed his hand across the driver's side door.
"I'm fine, thank you. As for you freaks, I'm not so sure…" he stared directly at me, his cohorts practically over the man's shoulder. "Who's the runt?"
I pushed my fury down. "The name's Sly. Let's be civilized, here, we don't need a fight. We're here for the same reasons as you; to have a good time. There's nothing wrong with that is there? We have rights, too." I knew that wouldn't work, and probably would fuel his anger. He backed up, laughing.
"Well, you freaks are on human turf. You don't belong here."
"We don't have to take this…" Beth confessed, "Let's go get security." Everyone backed away from the truck, obviously avoiding the fight. Something rose up in me, a feeling long forgotten. Justice and the need for dominance arose in me for the first time since I was human. I scrambled onto the truck hood, so I could look down on the teenage bully.
"You think we wanted this life?" I was angered, and my words had a life of their own. "You think its easy to live life like this?" I grabbed my tail, waving it in his face. "I didn't want this, but I'm making do. One day, you," and I pointed between his eyes for added effect, "may be in the same situation I am right now. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day, or the next year for that matter, but one day it may happen. And when you walk into a furry bar, people will know how you feel, and sympathize with you."
The boy moved to speak, but I cut him off. "But the irony will be thick. Instead of embracing their love and care, you'll puch it away. You'll know you don't deserve the care they're giving to you. You'll know that your hobby was heckling what you became. You'll know some of the same furries that will confide in you, only because you wrecked their public life." A crowd had gathered, humored by the concept of a squirrel giving a dressing-down. I paused, looking onto the crowd for effect. "There is one question I must ask," I directed to the audience, "What is joyous about heckling the furred?"
All I heard was "I've had enough of this." I felt him grab on to my tail, heard Bo's scream of anger, and the punishing blow to my miniscule cranium. The crowd screamed as I got the beating of my life.
I regained consciousness at the Furs-Only. They told me about the visit to the hospital, and how they didn't find any serious injury. The punks who hassled us were arrested, withheld by the overwhelming crowd at the scene. Bo got in my revenge in my absence, pounding my assailant to a bloody pulp. He was in the hospital nursing his broken bones. Caitlin, in a lighthearted mood, embarrassed Beth by telling me how she never left my side. I told her I was happy she never left me, completely ruining Caitlin’s attempt at embarrassing Beth. It was funny to watch her scream with frustration.
So, that was our first outing of the summer. It's always a new experience at the Furs-Only. Variety is a weak word, but apt to describe it. Yesiree, never a dull moment...
~Sly
A new and strange experience was bestowed upon me today. I never saw a mob before this, and hope I never again have to look down upon one. It’s amazing how such a large group of feeble minds can have so much movement and persuasion. But as for the story…
It all started late at night at the Furs-Only. Everyone was lounging about, lazily listening to music on the radio and staring at the ceiling. I was discovering new paths through the upper levels of the bar, pawing about in yet non-traversed areas. Beth, Kate, and Caitlin sat in a cluster of pillows, gossiping softly. Josh and Bo were playing pool, whittling the hours away. It was one of those slow nights, one best spent with friends.
A knock came at the door, and we invited the visitor in vocally. Instead of complying, though, the knock intensified into a pounding. It spread from the door across the wall, eventually becoming one constant bang on the frame of the bar. When the screaming started, everyone stomped to the door to see what was the matter.
After seeing the screaming fanatics I wish we would have let them pound all night.
The angry mob flowed all in our field, tearing up the dirt and hacking up the trees with rage still without a reason. Torches wavered amongst the crowd, laying down points of light helter-skelter. Screams pulsed through the mob, pushing their point onto us. The random yells grew into a singularity, a single phrase pounding in the night, “Down with the furred freaks! Down with the furred freaks!”
One man walked confidently up to the door, and the crowd died down without command. The mentality of the mob held everyone to conformity. The tall man glowered at us in the dim torchlight, the fire playing on his dark blue eyes. After a long silence, he spoke,
“Brothers, sisters, friends. These… things in front of us do not belong in the same town as we. We must take action and drive them from the city. Who’s with me?” Screams laced the crowd, piercing my ears with its shattering volume. Unrest aroused the crowd, and the back ranks started to push the front closer to our proximity.
I had to do something. These people were insane with the pack mentality. There was no doubt that they would carry out the dirty task as long as the mob stayed solid and uniform. Bo screamed out, trying to outdo the crowd for attention. Thinking intelligently, I went back inside and cranked up the karaoke machine. From there, I screamed in my highest squirrel chirp I could manage.
The crowd sat in silence, suddenly deafened by the high pitch coming from the bar. I took the chance to clamber up a tree at the center of attention. From there, I managed my most commanding voice and started.
“What are you doing?” my voice squeaked, partly from nervousness, partly from the strain on my tiny vocal chords. “Do you realize what you’re doing? Put yourselves in our skin,” I flew down the trunk of the tree and onto a mob member’s shoulder. “Here’s one: you had a wonderful life going for you until you became a squirrel. Suddenly, your boss dislikes your ideas, your wife hates you, and, to add insult to injury, your friends refuse to associate with you.”
I took my time, cantering from shoulder to shoulder and fabricating sap stories to illustrate my point. Finally, I ended up on the leader’s shoulder. “You are a monster,” I said coldly, “We’re doing nothing wrong here. All we want is a little compassion, and you people sure-as-hell won’t give us the time of day, let alone compassion. The only thing we’ve done with these bodies is adapt to your society. Don’t you understand?”
In silent response, the mob started to scatter. Even the leader, suddenly humbled, turned tail and ran. I turned to my friends and laughed at their gaping jaws. “So, can we get back to lazing around the bar?” I calmly walked back into the Furs-Only, shortly followed by everyone else.
“Can you believe that? That mob wanted us gone for good!” Josh said, suddenly perturbed at the group.
“That’s the way it’s been for years,” Kate interjected, “We did it to the blacks in the early 20th century, the Germans did it to the Jews in World War II, and the Catholics did it to the Pagans during the Crusades. It’s just the cycle starting over again.”
“Isn’t it funny?” I giggle, “Humans never learn.”
“And we call ourselves an advanced race!” Beth joined in my laughter, eventually pulling everyone into fits. When the laughing and human bashing wore off, everyone parted ways for the night. That was it. Tomorrow, Bo will go out and plant new grass seed to replace the tousled turf. Everything will return to normal.
It’s just another thing to adapt to, after all.
~Sly
Squirrel life sucks. I'll tell you that flat out. It has its high points, of course, those I can't begin to list here. It's the severity of the bad points that drives me to hate. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if humans weren't so downright self-centered...
Nasty habit number one: I'm really tired in the winter. Many nights, I just sit in one spot chewing on a nut in my instinctual hoarde. People see me as a slob, and move to prejudice. All because of a little instinct.
Nasty habit number two: I'm really high strung. When I say high-strung, I really mean downright twitchy. A camera flash is enough to send me into a flat run, for Pete's sake! Don't even put a dog in front of me; I had to sell mine because it turned on me. My best friend suddenly decided I was to be his next meal, how deliciously ironic! Life's full of irony.
Thing people hate about me: I climb objects. I've been asked to leave stores simply because I clambered up a shelf to retrieve a product or attention! I'm more comfortable in high places, and my choices reflect that. Of course, my choices don't exactly blend with those of the general public...
Yet another thing that doesn't blend: my tail. It wrecks the nerves of people I talk to. It's always moving, and stops when I'm pondering a point. When I pad along, my tail sways naturally. It's habit for me, but unsettling for others.
Thing I hate about socitey: the kids see me as fair play. It never fails: everywhere I go, some kid says "what a cute squirrel" and proceeds to stroke my fur. It was moderately tolerable for a while, but the hands of kids freak me out. Call it instinct, for I'm sure that is the culprit.
Consequentally, the same fact that attracts children to my meniscule girth is the reason people don't take me seriously. Surprisingly, I don't take myself seriously. Perhaps that's another thing I hate about my form: I'm never assertive. Don't get me wrong, now. I love the complacency I have, and everyone enjoys my new laid-back personality. Sometimes, I would kill for the instinct of dominance, though...
My friends ditched me. They saw how my form was bringing their stature down, so they weaned their poor lives off of me. Most of those I knew did the same thing; soon enough my old life was left behind. Only at work do I see my old lineage. The furs at Furs-Only are now all of my social life. I'm not complaining.
Conclusion: human life is only good when you're, well, human. Their standards don't hold well to mine, and I suffer for it. Maybe if everyone was like me, things would be different.
Of course, I have the single best stress reliever in the world to help me along... Nature could never be this exhilerating to a human. There is no other feeling like darting up one tree, then jumping to another brance effortlessly. The feeling of flying without wings is great. The pine branches beneath my feet release their aroma as I claw into them. It's pure nature.
~Sly
<this part: kind of a show on CNN showing a march onscreen>
You know what I hate? I despise activists who pick up the fight for furry equality. They dawn fursuits, lead peace marches down lanes, and picket in front of hospitals. It's a wonderfully humorous parade, if you catch them in the act.
I wouldn't mind, if they were furred themselves. The battle they fight is purely chivalrous, only to please themselves. The fursuits I find offensive, almost like a mocking of our culture. It's like fighting a war for the country who doesn't care, I guess.
Curious, I asked one why they took up our fight. The boy I spoke to simply replied, "I fight a fight that the weak are incapable of." When I explained that I was competant enough to fight my own battles, he replied, "But no one takes you seriously. Let us fight with our weighted voices." I was furious! Never had I been so embarrassed.
Conclusion: activists are stupid people who fight battles that sound good. They feel better because of it, like they're making a difference. In reality, they cast a shadow of general unreliability over the entire movement they fight for. Yet another hapless irony in socitey.
~Sly
Things are looking up. I got a deal on a new apartment! It's unconventional, and the rent is cheap. Nobody wants the space, and I'm pretty sure why. The best part is that it's made to fit the squirrel fancy. It's an amazing find, to say the least.
The conceptual abode begins in a large oak tree. The house is built around the aromatic wood, integrated with the architecture. The rooms aren't much: an entry, a kitchen/den in one room, bathroom separated from the living area, and a bedroom through a tunnel snaking up the tree. Power and water are fed through the tree itself, with my water heater and such required appliances hidden in a basement under the roots of the tree, accessible through a storm door.
The bathroom has the basic amenities, shower and all. It's dressed in a soft yellow, with all appliances lined in a soft white. The shower faces out to the world: one feature I think people should look into. The room faces the rising sun, so mornings are practically breathtaking in the space. I put a table in the room, oddly enough. It lets me watch the sun rise while I prepare for the day.
The kitchen has all the basic amenities. There's the pantry (which, fittingly enough, is built into the flesh of the tree) and my basic cooking tools. The room is windowless; most of my meals are taken in the den and bathroom. I'm an odd soul, I know. Brown is the soft tone for this room.
The living room is perhaps my favorite room. It's the first room I approach from my entry, and rightfully so. It's clad in a light tan, with a couch and television off to one corner. A large bay window takes up the western wall, and lets the sunset into my room. The squirrel before me was intelligent enough to build the house on a hill facing west to take in the sunset! My computer and life is set into a cabinet off in a far corner. The kitchen is opened up to the den.
My bedroom is just a cozy pallet for sleep. My cozy bed takes up most of the room, a cozy pallet of down. A light and bookcase serve reading purposes on nights of insomnia. The window in this room faces the rising sun, getting my lazy self out of bed each morning. It's the perfect bedroom, I think. The area isn't large and foreboding, and my new instinct likes that.
Best part of living in a forest home: the forest! My entry opens out onto another tree's branch, so I can easily begin a traverse of the forest with a single hop and jump. When I'm done, I can just return the way I came. No hunting is allowed in the forest, thank god. I was paranoid when I saw orange vests and shotguns on the lawn of my neighbors! They seem friendly enough, and told me not to worry. Finally, someone who thinks I'm all right!
Now, the humorous part. This house only houses me because I'm the only person I know who can fit into the abode! I told you a squirrel built the house; he built a mansion by modest squirrel terms. The only hospitality I can offer guests is a nice sitting area at the base of the tree. I have a grill down there, human-sized of course. A few lawn chairs dot the area, good for my human-sized visitors. I love this place!
Why did I move to such a small place? I'm a foot-tall squirrel, remember? Vaulted ceilings and towering waist-level countertops give me the creeps. My old apartment was a mess of stepladders and homemade tools for reaching now out-of-reach places. Never did I think I could find a home so suited to my body.
I still need a ride. I've been walking from here to there, without much of a complaint. Suddenly, a car is a required commodity. Unfortunately, they won't give me a license since my transformation. They assume I've lost information in my transformation, and want me to take a class. Besides, the idea of a car has been offset by my lack of cash up to now, and the modifications I would require wouldn't come cheap.
So I guess you're wondering how I got the cash. The thinking robot project finally sold, and for a hefty sum. My three co-workers and I share the royalties, which will last for a very long time. I'm financially secure for a while. How I got the cash for such an expensive abode, well, that will have to wait for another story.
~Sly
Seems I got your attention on the expensive abode. Well, it starts innocently enough, of course, with the bar at the epicenter. It was another slow day. Bo and Caitlin were cleaning up after the wild party last night. A large group of wolves plowed through, and took no prisoners. Furs are good tippers, so the pair didn't mind the mess. Most of the bar was already clean, and the regular group now inhabited the ghostly place.
We just finished a light dinner. The conversation never got off the ground. Everyone started on "fish" stories, and Josh laid a thick story about his years as an "expert bowler." The entire bar erupted in laughter, though the effect was lost in the enormity of the place compared to six weak voices.
The taunts flew, and before we knew it we piled into Bo's truck for a night at the alley. It was Cosmic Bowling night at the local lanes, and virgin drinks were free. Thinking something was better than nothing, we planned on a night of bowling and reminiscing of the good times. The alley brings back memories…
The crowd I stayed around in school always bowled. We'd go out at five only to return at six, the eight hours in between lost in bowling. Many of my best first time ever stories take place in a bowling alley, in fact. My first kiss came to me in an alley, strangely enough.
Furs have to keep ties in society, to keep some shred of humanity existing in our bodies. It’s hard when everyone thinks you’re so different, but without connecting with our past, we lose what makes us acceptable. For me, mingling with closed-minded humans can sometimes be a headache. Bowling allies are a great way to get out of the Furs-Only and into a crowd of fanatics out for a good time.
The alley was relatively big: one large room that accommodated for fifty lanes, and an arcade to boot. The walls were all painted in a periwinkle that only a bowling alley would dare display. Entering the brick building, the bar presented itself. It wasn't all that inviting, and not nearly up to the standards of Bo's barkeep. In fact, Bo laid down a cynical comment on the horrible manners of the bartender, sending our crowd into fits of laughter.
As always, we were stared at immediately following our entrance. The world stopped for a second to stare at the strange creatures, then the place would buzz back to life. It was like we were judged, almost passing a test of our worthiness. I don't mind it too much anymore, only because I have encountered it so much.
The lane was bought, and the final smack laid down before the lights dimmed and the music started. The noise was played so loud, one could lose themselves in the pulsating beat. It was the perfect ailment for emotional troubles: no thought, no worry. That's how it goes.
I think a bowling swing tells a lot about someone, so I'll explain everyone's swing here:
Beth has a simplistic windup, just stepping forward and throwing the ball. When she scored a strike, she was ecstatic. When she went in the gutter, her face was worth a thousand words. It's a joy to watch the cheetah play.
Josh had a power swing. He had some technique, but it amounted to throwing the ball as fast as possible. He was even better to watch than Beth, dancing in the lanes whenever he hit a single pin. We all afforded a few laughs at his expense.
Bo was a bowling technician. He carefully measured off his strides, making sure his ball flew parallel. Not surprisingly, he blew us all away. In retort, we all called him a party pooper. That'll be the joke for years to come.
Caitlin had a style vaguely similar to Bo's, later revealing that Bo taught her all she knew. She wasn't nearly as good as Bo, but still beat the living daylights out of Josh and I. She played dirty, of course, like the rest of us.
Of course, I had to use a light ball. My strategy was simple: push the ball any way possible down the lane. I hadn't bowled since the transformation, and was disappointingly sad at the game. I scored a few strikes, but not nearly as much as the rest. My strategy, as always, involved espionage. My personal favorite is hanging off the shoulder of the bowler and yelling in their ear. It's a guaranteed gutterball.
Furs always have a good time. No matter where we go, we always draw a crowd. It's like performing, unfortunately. People don't see odd animals perform crazy antics every day! Besides that, we're usually a loud bunch. Perhaps, that's a bad explanation; we yell in an odd fashion, much like the animals we've become. It's always a scene.
The night went on without a hitch, until the alcohol got to the heads of the patrons. We also were talking a little freer than usual, but alcohol isn't that much of a concern to us. Wouldn't you know it that a group of five young teenagers would swagger our way, breath smelling heavily of gin? They smiled a drunken smirk and jeered, "and what's with the little animals?"
This would make twice in the month I've been in this dilemma, and the alcohol was pushing my bravery further than ever. "Not much, just bowling," I said calmly.
"I'm the mayor's son, and I want you out of here!" It was a statement only a drunk could make: devoid of logic and completely irrelevant. I felt no fury this time around, this time it was the urge to run and hide. The alcohol had a different effect on Bo, Caitlin, and Beth, and they towered over the mob.
"Look, kid. I've paid my money, and I'm going to bowl. If you want me gone, you'll have to get me out yourself." He turned to me, smiling proudly. "It's your turn, is it not?"
Getting the message, Josh pulled my ball off the rack and set it down for me to roll. I didn't have the chance, for one of the ignorant boys grabbed me by the tail. I thrashed about, only a token fight compared to his girth. He eyed me evilly, as the boys huddled around me.
"Watcha got there, Jack?" They were poking me, pulling and pinching my fur. Everyone remained calm, breathing deeply to avoid jumping into a fight.
Bo started right up. "He's no different than you. One time, he was exactly like you were. If you would put him down, please…"
"Shut up, bear!" The leader yelled, turning his attention back to me. "Let's teach this rodent not to visit here again!" He pulled a long knife from his pocket, eyeing the sheen with the eyes of a madman. Bedlam was about to break out.
With an evil smile, he started into my rear flank. It's odd, really. Have you ever been in so much pain it doesn't hurt? This was one of those odd times. I was calm, somehow. I knew what was going on, but I didn't care too much.
When the knife entered me, I didn't feel much other than the ice of steel enter and exit me. I think I screamed, but I can't be sure. The entire alley was watching the scene unfold, and some were privy to my abuse. When my crew say the knife slice my flank, they jumped to action. I don't believe I remained consciousness for long…
It was funny listening to the three bragging about the fight. Bo claimed to take three at once, while Caitlin told me how she wrestled the knife from my torturer, while Beth told me how she pulled me to safety.
The hospital cleaned out my wound, but kept me for observation. The small amount of blood I lost was an insane percentage of my total blood count, and they made absolutely sure I was alright. Everyone stayed overnight at my room, or so they told me. Yet another evening ruined by a fight.
I was tired of fighting for my rights. That day in the hospital, I called a lawyer. I knew the mayor was living fat off of levied taxes (isn't politics great?) so I knew he'd be willing to put a huge sum towards fixing me up. The lawyers guaranteed victory, so I left the case to them as I recovered.
I don't like law, anyway. It’s all so chaotic and bureaucratic, and things never happen. Innocents are put to death every day for misdemeanors they didn’t know existed, while born killers get away with anything when they play the right cards. The sad part is that this terrible system is required to maintain order.
The lawyers made good on their promise, leaving me with $200,000 for my suffering. That's where the money came for the new house, of course. The boys came in the next day to apologize, though I knew the apology wasn't meant. The mayor then went on a Crusade for the "elimination of anthropomorphic oppression." The title was funny, but the cause serious.
As for me, I'm in the limelight, interviewed on every news show known. People actually look down now, and watch their feet when they step. Kids keep their distance (thank heavens) and I don't worry about being accepted anywhere. Things are finally looking up…
~Sly
Just when things are at their best, suddenly the bottom drops out. People now love me too much, and make an effort to space themselves from me. Granted, that means less tail stompings, but I am beginning to miss that magical human element...
Even the little children keep their distance. The brave who continue are chastised by their mothers for "molesting that poor guy." I'm beginning to miss the things I held dear: cynicism and sarcasm. They're almost nonexistent.
All stars fade eventually, thank god. My fifteen minutes in the limelight will end soon, and I will return to my normal life. Maybe now I can avoid all those brutish encounters with bullies, with new laws in place.
It will never happen. Furs and humans cannot ever treat each other like brothers, only neighbors over a very high fence. Prejudice runs deep in the blood of people, and I will surely have more stories for my devout followers to read. Life goes on, after all...
~Sly
I went to the mall today. Beth and I usually visit this place bimonthly, mainly becaue I need help when shopping. No use in reiterating the troubles in shopping, but for those who just happen to not know doors and carrying things poses a problem for a non-bipedal foot-tall squirrel. She insists she doesn't mind, but I sure do feel silly asking for help with such a simple task.
"How is that wound healing, Sly?" She pointed to my knife wound inflicted by that damned kid. I know he still hates me, more now because I got him in trouble. His apology was faux and only done because he was told to. The wound itself was still shaved from the doctors, and the skin provided stark contrast to the dark brown fur covering my body. A long black scar laced the wound and brought attention upon itself. I couldn't cover it because clothes hurt. It sure catches the attention and sympathy of the crowds, though.
I always try to travel on someone's shoulder if possible. It's so much better than getting stomped below! Besides, it gives me a better view of the world around me. Beth is more than happy to give me a lift on her furred shoulder. I appreciate someone giving me this much help! And so we went, with me speaking silently in her ear.
But back to the mall. "The wound is doing fine. I think the painkillers are doing the job well." A wall presented itself, and I couldn't resist leaping to it to traverse it. Beth saw me wince when I put pressure on the leg.
"Oh, come now! You're in pain. We can always put this off..." I cut her off, but not angrily.
"Please, no. I want out of the house. I've been cooped up too long."
"I see, but what about the pain?"
I smile. "No pain, no gain."
She laughed. "Okay, tough guy. have it your way." The trip continued without deviation.
Life had returned to normal for me, wherever that is. People no longer treat me as a deity, and some actually talk to me! Thankfully, people have returned to not looking to their feet. I know, that sounds odd. I kind of enjoy being understated. The Furs-Only hasn't had much resistance when travelling abroad, the only instances occuring with drunks which didn't last long.
So, we went about our business. Our mall is large, in mall terms. It's dressed in a classic mall fashion, with vaulted ceilings accenting the marbled tile. The place was brightly lit, and natural light was peeking through every creep and crevace. Fake plastic trees lined the area, attempting to give a little natural feel to the place but failing. Storefronts opened their doors cordially to their guests, welcoming them with impulse buys and great deals. Most of the places were clothing stores and had no appeal to me (guess why). Beth stopped at a few, though, and I suffered through them all in stride.
My shopping consisted of only a few stops. I went to the hardware store for materials for a new renovation on my home. More on that later. Using some of the money I had left over from the mayor's settlement, I bought a video game system. It will barely fit in the door, but I plan to build a seperate room for it so I can move it from place to place. There was a single shirt I had to buy for Caitlin; it had a picture of a cartoonish vulpine waiter clumsily answering a call of "foxy lady!" I couldn't resist such a good gag gift. I don't buy much at the mall other than food because most of the stuff doesn't fit in my home.
The food court was a welcome surprise. The whole furry equality deal must have sparked some creative ind; there was a furry cafe! They had confections for any fancy, be it herbivore or carnivore or whatever. Their appeal was to both furry and human, and they had a good mix. I had this wonderful greens combination topped with fresh pecans, and Beth had a meat platter of which its name escapes me. We ate our unique confections with great delight. The Furs-Only has a new group restraunt now!
Beth walked into another clothing store. I moaned, "Another one? It's just like the last one!"
She slapped me playfully. "Not at all! You need some fashion sense, squirrel boy!"
"Hey, I don't need it," I say, laughing, "I don't wear much at all. You human-sized people look so funny in your shirts and shoes!"
She chuckled sarcstically. The store was funny, past the clothing and all. It was called Tellor's. They played Tellor radio over the loudspeaker, offering 50% off their overpriced merchandise. Their clothing was like that of any other store, but it had a small emblem in the corner denoting its origin. That emblem tacked on an additional 30 dollars to the price!
"I hope you don't plan on buying this," I jeer.
"Well, yes." she replies with sass.
"What a ripoff!" She picked out a few outfits, and headed for the dressing rooms, tail bouncing happily. I knew that it would be a long sit for me.
Perhaps you have been in this situation, male readers. You're with a woman shopping for outfits, and given the same situation you would be in and out. Women are different. They prance around the place like a kid in a candy store, picking outfits gaily. Imagine the humor in seeing an adult cheetah prancing on her paws like she has just been graced with the greatest honor on Earth? The next hour wasn't exciting for me, though I did get a few good blows on Beth's rpide.
She tramped out of the dressing room in a bright red shirt and cute overalls. The overalls were unbuttoned, and down past her hips. Though it sounds inappropriate, this is how furs shop. It's simple anatomy: the tail has to go somewhere. Not surprisingly, most furs know how to sew.
"So, how do I look?" she asked excitedly.
"Well, just like you did a second ago, with a red shirt instead of a pink one." I reply sarcastically.
"That's no help!" the cheetah made a comical gesture, accenting the dumbfounded tone to her words. "Which is better?" I got out a coin and flipped it. Laughing, I told her to take red.
"I got your number," she said threateningly.
"You say that all the time," I reply matter-of-factly. She was getting frustrated; I was on a roll! She deliberated a while more, then decided on the red outfit. I take my place on her shoulder after she steps out of the dressing room, walks up to the clerk, and hands the clothing over.
"I still don't believe youre going to pay that!" I exclaim.
"Shut up, Sly," the cheetah replied playfully, extending a claw, "remember: you're prey and I'm predator. I am supposed to have the upper hand." I made a terrified face mockingly, and we laughed. Strangely, the two laughing tones were soured by an off-key sobbing. We looked around to see what was the matter.
I didn't really look at the clerk at first, but she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears fell onto Beth's outfit, staining the denim and cloth without shame. She was past the point of coherent thought or even continuing her job. Her face was hidden from view, but she seemed awfully familiar...
"You're..." she forced between sobs, "you're Sly... Sly... Squirrel?"
Unknowing of where she was going with it, I thought it couldn't hurt. "Yes, that's me." I worked my way off Beth's shoulder and onto the counter.
"Sylvester?" She knew my real name! But how?
"That's right. How did you know?"
"I'm so sorry!" She broke down onto me, holding me close and caressing my fur. It's hard for a squirrel to be a strong shoulder to cry on, but I tried my best. Instinct took over, though I still had no idea why she cried or what was going on. After minutes of crying, she finally sobered up enough to speak.
“I left you, after you changed. I’m so sorry.” I knew her and what she did, but what was her name?
"So, what's your story, gorgeous?" a twinge of Casablanca entered my voice. I rather enjoyed it.
"I didn't understand what you were becoming, so I just forgot about you. How could I know you would be so alone?" her angle suddenly became clear.
"I was never alone. Perhaps it's good you left."
"What?" the guilt subsided, leaving only the underlying anger to throb. "You didn't want me around?"
"No, that's not the case at all," I frantically backed out of my comment, "I would never have found my new identity. If you remained, I woudl have clung to my human life and family and never would have distovered the true joys of fur and claws! It would have depressed me to suicide if I didn't find furry friends to relate to!" I was pleased with my recovery, and it seemed to work well.
"It was that bad?" I nodded solemnly. "But, I could never know!"
"Nobody could ever know," I tactfully reply.
She seemed much better now. "So, who is this?"
"This is Beth," I indicate my companion. "She's here to help me shop."
"Nice to meet you," Beth squinted at the name tag, "Serena."
She sat in a moment of silent contemplation. "I never thought such a simple task could be so difficult..."
"No one knows, and I like it that way. I hate sympathy; it's so degrading on my manly persona..." I struck a comical pose, and the three of us laughed. Her eye then caught my wound, and she gasped.
"What happened, Sly? You look like you've been cut open!"
"I was," Beth and I chuckled, but Serena didn't see the humor in the afterthought.
"I was mugged, and the court settlement has plentifully reimbursed me. It looks real bad, but that's because they had to shave me to clean the wound. It's a real drag on my image." I smiled.
"How can you not take that seriously?" she said in disbelief.
"I've learned to laugh at everything, since I've become one of the laughed at," I cryptically reply. She passed right over it.
"We need to get the old gang together! I'm sure they're dying to see how you've turned out," she exclaimed. Elation was apparent in her body; her hands were in constant motion.
"Sounds good. You still have their numbers?" She waved a black book in front of me.
"Always keep my best friends close at hand," she smirked. "How's tomorrow?"
"You can plan something that quickly?" I was surprised at her urgency. "I guess so. Give me your pen." She handed over the pen in wordless reply. I scribbled down my address and number onto the paper. "Surprise me here."
"We sure will," a long pause followed, "but right now I have to work! See you tomorrow, Sly." I waved goodbye, and Beth and I were off.
"Who was she?" Beth asked, out of the range of human hearing. We could still hear Serena chattering away on the phone, suddenly invigorated by the new task.
“She was one of my friends long ago," I reply. The wall was close at hand, and I couldn't resist strolling down it. Those who were sitting on the wall made room for me, much to my surprise. I usually have to stop and pardon myself through. Today, they were exceptionally polite.
"Sounds a little off her rocker," the cheetah spoke humorously.
"We're all off our rocker in one respect or another," I catch myself in the terrible cliche. "I've been using too many proverbs lately. What do you think?"
"I like them. They make you sound so vouge," she struck a pose that sent us into fits of laughter. Sobering up, she asked, "So what are you going to do with your old friends?"
"I don't know. Perhaps I'll show them the house, reminice on old times, take them to the bar, and whatever comes up. I don't make plans for friendly get-togethers."
"Makes sense," the cheetah agreed, "So I get to see all your old friends?"
"Maybe, if you happen to be in the bar."
"I can't miss an opportunity like this! You know I'll be there." She shone an evil smile to my direction, and I cringed mockingly. We continued out the door and into Beth's car. We talked about the weather as she drove home. For once, a day went by without serious incident. I'm amazed.
~Sly
The past few days have been a fury of preparation. I’ve been staying in quite a bit, and the place is a mess! Granted, they won’t be coming inside, but it’s still a good excuse to clean up. My taped tour of the house will suffice.
I set up a television on the lower level. It’s set into the tree, protected by a weatherproof shutter. The outside pane of the door is painted in a natural texture as to not take from the rugged beauty of my home. Everyone thinks the idea is great, though I don’t entertain many visitors.
Oh, this will be fun! I’ll get to catch up on old times, and talk with my old friends, and take them to the Furs-Only, and get on friendly terms with those I’ve lost, and… Oh, I’m just so excited! I need to calm down; squirrels are very easy to excite. I don’t want to look mildly psychotic in their eyes!
Well, they’re arriving now. I’ll finish this later.
What a night! Everyone arrived with friendly faces and cordial personalities. They commented on my house, and I showed them the video tour. They said it was a wonderful building. We shared stories, and most of them were working in another computer company. I told them the full story of my ordeal, and they cringed. The wound still bore witness to my torment, and of course their sympathy attempted to pour over to me. I refused it, as always.
Three of my old friends showed up; three couldn’t make it because of plans. My guess is they decided to not come at all. Oh, well. I’m not going to force anyone to be my ally or not. Those who align themselves with me, therefore, are true companions.
Serena, of course, organized the whole thing. She’s a tall woman, maybe six foot one or so. Her long brown hair extends past her shoulders, and is always waving this way or that. Her smile is enchanting, but her voice is whiny and annoying. I don’t mind listening to mousey voices, if they have something to say, and Serena is an excellent talker. Her job is already apparent: She works at the clothing store to supplement her husband’s cash flow.
Chris is a normal guy. He stands six feet tall, and has a head of blonde hair. He has a job at the most prestigious hospital in the state. His arms and legs are sinewy and thin, but is surprisingly strong. His head is styled in a short crew cut, usually covered by a hat of some sort. Today, he had on a ski hood. It’s truly a comical sight.
Joe is a squat man, husky and broad in the shoulders. He’s a full head shorter than Chris, but he’s twice as thick in the chest area. You can always see him wearing t-shirts and jeans. He isn’t very stylish, but makes up for it in personality. He’s a fun guy to be around because he has lightning fast wits. He always gets the last word in somehow. He’s the first one who saw my transformation, if you remember.
Finally, we were all in the same place! We drove to the Furs-Only to make introductions and pick up passengers for our night on the town. They were amazed the place existed; they always thought the forest was unoccupied. Their eyes bulged and jaws dropped when they entered the tavern to see such a nostalgic scene!
Everyone was introduced to everyone, and everyone decided to join in the fun. Beth, Kate, Bo, and Caitlin joined our party. Josh had things to do, so he wasn’t at the bar. It was too bad, too. All the furs piled into the truck, but I remained in my car. I didn’t think my human friends were quite acclimated with my furry lifestyle yet.
Isn’t that strange? Furries are so outgoing, and that makes our lifestyle very different. When humans try to mingle with us, they are nervous or bashful. We try to loosen them up, but they just wind tighter like a tuned guitar string. I guess they just don’t like to have a good time.
So, we went out for a late night movie. The theater was empty, so we owned the place. After deliberation and a close vote, we decided on the new action flick Chaingun Pete. I was against the choice, but what do I know?
The Ritz was an old-style theater. There was one screen, and a refreshment stand out front. That’s it. No multi-screen confusion, no arcade, just the movies. The actual theater was decked in curtains, and the chairs were worn thin with use. We love this theater simply because it reeks with history and a soul. It’s hard to emulate this feeling in multi-screen abominations.
We propagated refreshments, and sat down to the movie. I guess we were lucky to be in there alone; furs tend to get excited when in large numbers. I’m sure we’ll embarrass Serena, Chris, and Joe. They’ll just get used to it and maybe get into the act, or at least I hope.
The movie itself was a terrible testosterone representation of the classic “one man kills them all” epic. An impossibly built vulpine ran around, mowing down assorted persons with his limitless MP5. It contained a horrendous plot, toned down so more killing could be added. Bo seemed to like it, sitting with Chris and Joe talking like guys do at testosterone movies. I would join in, if the movie didn’t stink like last year’s soured milk.
I was bored out of my mind. Our theater’s walls are clothed, and I thought I would have some fun. I worked my way up the wall, until I was directly above Beth, Caitlin, and Serena. I could hear them talking amongst themselves about the guys to their left. Serena seemed to be blending very well; she had no reservation when it came to gossip and such!
“So, who’s the cutest?” asked Serena. Thank god for enhanced squirrel hearing!
“I don’t know… I’d say Joe,” said Caitlin. “He’s like a puppy dog!” I cringed. Who would have thought Joe could possibly be compared to a puppy dog?
“No! I’d definitely go with Chris,” replied Beth, then added with a smile, “but I prefer mine with a little more fur on the chest.”
“Chris? Why him? Give me Joe’s rugged look any time!” Kate finally entered the conversation.
“Joe? He’s little stocky for my tastes,” deliberated Beth.
“But what about Bo and Josh?” asked Serena.
“They’re just boys. Boys will be boys.” Kate said sassily, sending the trio into laughter. The males looked over, but didn’t get an answer as to what sent the girls to laughter.
Kate started the boy talk again. “You know who’s really neat? Sly.” They were talking about me! All right, premium knowledge…
“Where did he go off to?” Beth asked the obvious, and I hid behind a rafter. They all looked around, but then continued on.
“He’s like a doll or something,” said Caitlin, “fragile, but cool.” I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. I’m just a fragile doll. How am I supposed to get women looking like a fine china masterpiece, easy to break? This is ludicrous! Detested, I clamber back down the curtains and join my masculine brethren for the horrific movie. They talked women and cars, but I didn’t listen. I’d just reply with a yes or no here and there.
The movie ended, and we all headed out to our respective vehicles. The drive home was nearly silent, until Chris spoke up. “Hey Sly, I bet you’d be interested in what I’m involved with in the hospital.”
I bit for the lead. “Go on.”
“Well, my team is working on an XLRS1 antidote. We’re looking for test subjects for the treatment. It’s as safe as it will get before we test it on people.
“Is it at no charge?” I couldn’t believe what was happening! The answer to my problems could be right here in my face.
“Yes, all you have to do is sign a few forms and stay at the hospital for observation.”
“I’ll consider it.” I dropped off everyone, and headed to my own. My sleep was laced with dreams of finally becoming human. Maybe it would be a good idea, maybe it wouldn’t. I’m sure everyone will be talking about it at the Furs-Only tomorrow. I know I will.
I can’t sleep. Dreams haunt me, dreams of what may be and what once was. I saw all my old friends, and how they look upon me now. Women led me on, only to laugh and pet my cute little skull. People were too high to talk to, and they looked down at me asking why I was so silent. This is the last straw. I can’t take this torture anymore! It’s high time I take some action.
~Sly
I woke up this morning and made the call to arrange an appointment for tomorrow. Today would be my last day as a squirrel. Joy mixes with sadness, making the day seem more than it should be. I decide to try to get a full helping of all that squirrel life offers today.
It’s snowing outside. I love snow, especially when it’s new-fallen and pure. Immediately after waking up, I dove into a drift just outside my tree. For the next hour I did nothing but frolic in the white crystals. Drying off, I hopped into my car and drove to the Furs-Only.
True to my prophecy, the gang was talking about Chris’s procedure. They only took a moment to greet me before continuing on with their conversation. I took a soft pillow in the sitting area where everyone else was. The snow continued outside, dancing around the homely bar. It seemed like there was no intention of making time to go outdoors today, much to my dismay.
“You think it’s worth the trouble, Sly?” Beth was talking about the procedure.
“Yeah, in some cases,” I reply softly, still dreaming about the snowball fight I wanted so badly.
“I would never give up these claws!” Caitlin exclaimed.
“But if it made you normal?” Bo spoke with reason.
“I rather enjoy being out-of-the-ordinary!” Caitlin retorted, emotion flooding every word.
“I’ll second that movement!” said Josh, out of character.
“You should watch yourself with those words, ‘cause you might hurt yourself!” I sarcastically comment.
“Yeah, you aren’t used to using those terms,” Caitlin added with a smirk, “Hey! Maybe Josh will start to act intelligently!”
“Hush! I can be smart when I want to!” Josh fought off the blows, but to no avail. Kate broke the silence that followed.
“Granted, a few days in a regular human body wouldn’t be too bad,” said Kate, “but I wouldn’t want to return permanently. Look at what we have here: a comradely unmatched in regular society. What could humanity possibly offer to dissuade our way of life?”
“I’m going to try it,” I say defiantly, amidst stares from everyone, “in fact, today is the last day of Sly as we know him.”
“But you can’t!” Beth jumped in, “Why don’t you want to stay?”
“Look at me,” I indicate my miniscule body, “I’m about a foot tall! It’s time for a change, time to be a regular person for once!”
“That’s what makes you who you really are!” she replied passionately.
“That makes me a target, Beth. I’m tired of being roused up without being able to fight back. It’s for the better, I guarantee. Besides, just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’ll be leaving you guys in the dust!” they smile, and I indicate the door. “It’s snowing outside! What are we doing in here?” I run out the door, closely followed be everyone in one laughing mass.
A winter day isn’t complete without a snowball fight, and today was no different. Yelps of different amplitude and varying pitch were emitted from the clearing that day, muffled by flying snow and playful grappling. Everyone was a dirty snowball fighter, with me being no exception. Not being able to manifest a gigantic snowball, I usually shake snow-laden branches onto unsuspecting heads. The scream I get in reply is worth the effort of finding a target and luring them in.
Everyone really gets into a snowball fight around these parts. Bo went right out into the clearing, flinging all the snow he could find lying around. Caitlin was a bit craftier, choosing her targets carefully between bits of cover. Beth was a mess, and didn’t have a plan of attack at all. She did a lot of screaming. Josh and Kate chased each other in the snow, eventually catching one another and rolling in the white cover. It’s truly a sight to behold.
All good things come to an end, though, and this was no exception. With the sun waning and the snow supply running out, the party begrudgingly returned indoors. A small dinner was served up haphazardly: steamed vegetables and hot dogs. I took in my vegetables at a leisurely pace; there was no rush through my last meal as Sly.
The philosophy transcended unto everyone else, and the Last Supper was filled with small talk abound. Caitlin talked about how her fur mats up, and we all related. Kate raved about her new novel, and even spun a synopsis on the fly. It’s quite entertaining to watch the lapin pitch an idea; the body language is enough to send even the most steely-facade to fits of laughter. Josh acted like himself, only jumping in to relate to what had been said. Beth stepped in with her “new outfit” routine, one I was quite familiar with from months of shopping with her.
Bo stayed deathly silent. His intent and focus on the food in front of him was scary and unnerving. Finally succumbing to my curiosity, I asked what could possibly be wrong. “It’s nothing, really.” Of course nobody believed him, and hounded the bear until he broke.
“It’s what’s on everyone’s mind right now, just that I seem to take it differently,” said the bear somberly, “Sly Squirrel will be gone tomorrow. Isn’t that reason enough to be sad and reclusive?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere,” I say in anger incited by Bo’s incessant moping, “I’m just changing forms, that’s all. The body is a vessel for the soul, after all. Because I change physically, does that mean I change in personality?”
Bo really had me shook up, and I pointed out his hypocrisy. “Remember the alley, Bo? Remember the kids, the jeers, the knife? Remember how angry we got at them? Why were we enraged? They thought we were different, when actually we were the same people we once resembled. We are all the same, Bo, and that is why we are here talking right now. We know everyone is equal, and try to show that common courtesy to our fellows. Have you forgotten so soon?” A pause filled the room, as I inhaled in heaves from the exertion both physical and mental.
“You’re right. I’m sorry about that, Sly.” Bo said, obviously taken by surprise by the revelation.
“Let’s just let bygones be bygones,” I happily reply, “and just enjoy the moment.” The meal pushed aside, a daring young ferret approached the karaoke stand. Of course, it was terrible, but nobody expects a stellar performance from anyone on stage. Fitting the situation, Kate turned on “Friends in Low Places” and we shattered glass with the wail-a-long heartbreak tune. Truly getting in the mood, we waste the night away on different songs; some upbeat, some down and blue, and some simply out-of-the-ordinary. It was truly an unforgettable experience.
As all good things go, they must come to an end. This was no exception, and there was no shortage of tears to go around. Bo and Josh refused to cry, but the womenfolk were wailing with regret and loss. I soothed their tears as best as possible, after shaking hands with the men. They gave encouragement and good luck, while the girls seemed to give their life lessons to me in thirty seconds or less. I tried to reason with them that I would be back tomorrow, but they would hear none of it. Partially satisfied, I walk out the door and onward to my home.
So, the last hours of my squirrel life wind down. Knowing it would be my last time, I take one more go-round in the trees. It had to last, so I did the most daring feats I’ve ever tried. The brisk wind ruffled my face as I flew threw through the treetops. Pine crinkled below me, releasing its powerful aroma. The wind blew in my ears, howling its song of the forbidden night. Running free without restriction is the greatest thing in the world; perhaps one of the most natural movements ever created. After perhaps an hour of sprinting from tree to tree, I return home to a warm house. Its ambience shines like a beacon in the bleak darkness, inviting yet disappointingly climatic.
The house is so quiet. Only the creaking of the sub-floor can be heard over the soft sounds of the forest. A cricket chirps in the distance, augmented by the occasional hooting of an owl. Trees rustle in the soft wind, giving their soothing rhythm to the home. In a fit of disgust, I turn on the radio. Smooth music only augments the pure beauty of the moment.
Why should I be sad? Tomorrow is the first day of my old life.
~Sly
Avalon Hospital is a large and foreboding place, especially for someone as small as I. The entire building is clad in a stark white, at the least appalling to the eye. Everyone was friendly in the lobby, with a player piano playing the ragtime tune “Hello My Baby.” Carpet lines all the halls in this gargantuan room, with the walls paneled in white marble. Chairs are every which way, yielding magazines and other forms of entertainment. Chris was waiting at the door for me, and greeted me heartily as I came through the revolving door.
“Hey there Sly!” he spoke in a friendly tone like that which is used on a little kid, “How are you today?”
“Ready for this to begin,” I said with resolve, “You can cut the act. I know you don’t do that to everyone that walks in the door.” The coldness took him aback, until he realized what this operation meant to me. Just know he realized that this would change my life forever.
“Right. Actually, I do greet everyone like that when I’m in these scrubs,” he chuckled, “Shall we go down to the lab?” I followed him down the carpeted halls, until he turned off into a nondescript hallway. It was tiled in pure white, with all walls retaining the stark color of the tiled floor. He made enough lefts and rights to get me lost; I couldn’t imagine how someone could keep their bearings in here! Finally, he opened a hallway door and motioned me in.
“If you’ll have a seat on the table…” he looked at me, then at the high table, and frowned. “Let me give you help up,” he said as he pulled me onto the table.
“Since you came to this hospital for XLRS1 immediately after the transformations started, your name was at the top of our lists for reversal. We’ve painstakingly worked out this specialized solution to change your genes,” Chris pulled a vial from the drawer at the side of the room.
“And you’ve done that much work for lil’ ol’ me?” We laughed, but Chris sobered.
“Honestly, we could make you anything now by just telling the computer what to do,” he said evilly.
“Watch yourself there,” I jump on the joke.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said calmly, “I have morals, you know.”
“I know,” I say jokingly, “We’re not sure what kind yet.”
“Hush,” he stopped the verbal fencing dead. The needle approached my skin, penetrating and releasing its elixir into my blood. “This should do you fine. We’ll keep you here for observation,” he smiled, “Besides, your home will be a little small now, right?”
I laughed. “Finally, it will be.”
He opened the door to the room, “Shall I show you to your quarters?” He made a majestic bow, and I followed suit. We went down more stark white hallways, not without me losing what was left of my orientation. After what seemed like miles of monotonous hallway, Chris opened a nondescript door for me. “This will be where you rest your head for the next few days. I think you’ll find the furnishings self-explanatory.”
“Thanks. What do you guys do to people ‘under observation?’”
“Well, you’ll be under video surveillance all the time. You’re free to move around as you please, but I don’t suggest it in the next two hours. Those will be the most intense reversal hours.” I wanted to ask why, but I was afraid to inquire.
“Works for me,” I say with a smile, “Do I get charged for phone calls?”
“No, just as long as they aren’t long distance.”
“Good. I have some housing issues to take care of, mainly a getting a place fit for my new body,” I smiled, and he followed suit.
“I can see that being a problem in the future. Dial away! Just be pre-warned that you may not talk much in these first two hours!” These seemed to be hellacious! “Well, I’ll leave you be. I’ll be back in a while to check your progress. Enjoy!” He shut the door behind him, as I sat down on the bed in the room.
This wasn’t a normal hospital room. It was homelier, and a bit larger. The bed was a simple model, without the adjustable qualities of orthodox hospital beds. A large television sat on the floor, right next to a makeshift kitchen. The refrigerator was stocked with an odd combination of my favorite squirrel and human food. Someone was expecting me…
Still thinking about the next “two hours,” I sat down to watch television. The TV is such a funny thing. It never really settles onto one topic, rather jumps in a chaotic pattern to keep the attention of viewers. Wonderful concepts are hacked to pieces and fed with flashy décor to the patrons, who lap it up like a kitten does milk. It’s not brain food, per say, but rather a drug that does nothing but pass time. I hate television.
Even worse is television news. They cover things nobody would know or care about, if it wasn’t human interest. Yes, humans enjoy having their heartstring plucked. The media plays that note repetitively, knocking the string out of tune. If it jerks tears, it’s news. Informative entertainment is what newscasts have become.
The TV clicks off in my disgust. I lay on the bed, imagining what it will be like to be human again. Daydreaming, I imagine women all over me. It’s been five long years since I’ve had a girl in my midst… this form is anything but a woman magnet. Sure, I get wonderful pity from women, but never mutual love and respect. It’s finally going to change.
That’s when the transformation began. It hurt when my tail came back into my body, kind of like setting a broken bone. The process took its time, seeming to savor my pain. I yelled out loudly, but never asked for help. I knew this had to be done on my own. Never did I close my eyes, and I noticed my height double during the de-tailing. For the first time in years, I was able to reach cabinets!
The next phase was excruciating. In the next thirty seconds, my face was reconfigured. My face felt like ground hamburger as the bones popped and rubbed against each other. Thankfully, the process was lightning fast. The full-body mirror in the room revealed that I was a two feet tall human covered in fur. Even with the covering, I jumped for joy.
Chris walked in at about the same time. “So, the first stage is over with?”
I turned to him giddily. “I think so. Look, I can reach cabinets!”
“That’s great. You’ll lose the fur in your sleep, and probably shoot up another foot or two. The process was made to be moderately quick, and we’ll only keep you cooped up in this place for about a week for further observation.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I smiled. Things were looking up, finally.
“Well, it’s about five o’ clock anyway, so I’ll just leave you to get some rest.” Five? Did that much time really pass by?
“All right.” He left, and I snuggled into my bed. I could take a week of this treatment…
The days passed by quickly, with the transformation only taking two days to complete. I wore my first outfit in a long time on the third day, and had my first cut of meat (a wonderful prime rib – I never thought meat could taste so sweet) on the fourth. The call to my realtor got me a home that would last for years on end, so I relaxed as much as I could possibly do under the situation.
The period of observation ended, and I was released to go home. Of course, I had to dump all the instruments out of my car, and reveled in the freedom of movement I was suddenly given. For the first time in ages, I was able to function as a normal person without special implements. With a yelp of joy, I drove out of the hospital parking lot.
Thinking it appropriate, I drove down to the Furs-Only to let everyone know the good news. They all stared at the human who walked so casually in their b