Whale Jelly
Part 1
Curtis examined himself in the mirror. The spot was definitely getting bigger. Why today of all days? The day of the High School Summer ball!
“Crap! I need to get some lotion for that.” moaned the teenager, reaching for his jacket.
He plodded down the busy street in search of a pharmacists. He spied the familiar green cross on the sign at the end of the street, and hoped it was open. It wasn’t!
Curtis spun around, hoping to find somewhere else. A grocers perhaps? Or a supermarket. He hadn’t lived in Swansdown for very long, and wasn’t familiar with the town yet. It had been difficult making new friends at school, and now with a chance of going to his first School prom with Susan – the girl of his dreams – he wasn’t going to let a poxy blackhead ruin it for him.
Curtis was about to give up when he spied a small shop front, with a tatty sign hanging above the door. It was mainly painted in strange oriental writing, but underneath was written:
"Chinese Herbal Medicines: For All Your Needs!”
“Excellent!” cried Curtis, and he swiftly crossed the street and entered the small shop.
Behind the counter sat a wizened oriental gentleman, the classic Chinese stereotype from a Hollywood movie of the Fifties.
“Vot can I do vor you yong sir?” said the man with a voice to match his comic book appearance.
“Um – I need some cream to clear my skin up.” said Curtis, pointing to his face.
“I see...” whispered the man, “and vot is the problem viv vor skin?”
“Ain’t it obvious?” moaned Curtis, “I’ve got spots the size of the Millennium Dome on my face, and it’s my school prom tonight. I’m gonna be in my best black and whites, but it’s gonna be a real killer with this though”
“I have just the ving for you my child.” said the man, and he reached under the counter and pulled out a small pot. It was covered in strange Chinese writing.
“What’s that?” asked Curtis.
“A simple lotion yong sir. It will smooth vor skin, and make you a real killer in yor in black and whites.” he replied.
“Excellent! I’ll take it.” said Curtis, “How much is it?”
“To you sir, nothing.” said the kindly man, “I feel you need a free sample first.” Curtis thanked the man and left. Not only had he saved his hot date, but it had cost him nothing either.
Racing home, Curtis hurried to the bathroom to rub the cream onto his face. The pot contained a strange pink substance that looked like strawberry custard. Curtis dipped his fingers in and smeared a drop of cream onto his spot. It tingled slightly, and then was absorbed. Curtis stared in wonder as the acne shrank back into the skin, and vanished. Looking down at his hands, Curtis also noticed that they too were tingling. His jaw dropped. A small cut on his finger faded and healed; and all his skin on his hand turned a smooth, attractive shade of pale pink.
Curtis scooped out a whole handful of cream, and smeared it all over his face. He waited for the tingling to ease, and then squealed with joy as all his acne, freckles and moles disappeared under a uniform hue. It was a little pale for Curtis’s true liking, but it was better than being a pizza face.
Curtis continued to stare as not only did the colour of his skin fade, but also the flesh began to fill out slightly – not enough to look strange, but sufficient to give his once scrawny face the look of a well-trained athlete.
“Bloody wow!” shouted Curtis, “That crazy old man was right! I’m gonna be a stud!”
Curtis poured about half of the contents of pot into the bath, and then turned on the taps. The mixture fizzed and bubbled in the warm water. Curtis was getting excited. There would be no way that Susan was going to be able to resist him tonight. Stripping off, Curtis jumped in the bath and began to soak in the strange lotion. He felt like his whole body was covered in pins and needles, but not enough to cause discomfort. After about half an hour, he got out and dried himself. Curtis looked at his body. Nothing was happening. Why?
“Blast! Perhaps the water diluted it too much?” he sighed.
Curtis got dressed, and feeling somewhat dejected, plodded downstairs. Flicking on the TV, Curtis nestled in his favourite comfy armchair. It was late afternoon, and there was very little worth watching. Slowly but surely, Curtis drifted off to sleep.
CLUNK!
The remote control fell onto the floor, waking Curtis. How long had he been asleep? Curtis fumbled for the remote control in the evening gloom, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He tried to stand up, but found himself wedged in between the arms of the chair.
“What the hell?” said Curtis aloud. Flicking on the table lamp next to him, Curtis was shocked to see that he had gained a lot of weight since falling asleep.
“Cooool!” squealed Curtis, “The potions’ working! A little fat, but that will tone up – I hope.”
Curtis sat up, looking at his hands. He wasn’t sure, but they were definitely smooth, and larger than before. Funny, they even seemed a bit shiny. Starting to feel a little uneasy, Curtis tried to get to his feet again. He looked down at his legs. His thighs were continuing to swell inside his jeans, giving him the appearance of a blue balloon in a vice. The arms of the chair were beginning to groan, and Curtis pushed hard on them. Finally, like a cork coming out of bottle, he sprung out and landed in a heap on the floor.
“Ouch!”
Waddling upstairs, made more difficult with his legs rubbing together, Curtis looked at his watch. Becoming breathless, he halted at the top.
“God, what’s happening to me? I’m a blimp.” squealed Curtis.
He squeezed into his bedroom – only just managing to get through the door. Curtis fumbled with his belt, suddenly finding his fingers fusing together. It was like wearing thick plastic mittens. The discomfort started getting worse, and Curtis started to get anxious. He collapsed onto his bed, scattering his school books as he fell. Buttons started to pop off as he pawed at the fastenings.
With a loud crack, the seams of his jeans split lengthways. Curtis was stunned to see his legs had turned mottled white, and were silky smooth. With one last Herculean effort, Curtis peeled off his ruined clothes, and stared at his body. The sight that greeted him was not quite what he was hoping for. Instead of a chiselled hunk with smooth skin, Curtis’s body was bloated, and was a strange greyish colour. Dark blotches were forming on his back and legs, and there was a reddish lump on his spine.
“Oh hell!” cried Curtis, starting to panic. The dark blotches were now reaching his face as he watched. This was not what he had been planning. What was happening to him? Curtis glanced at the clock.
“Nearly eight! The prom starts at eight thirty!” Curtis opened his wardrobe, and pulled out his eveningwear. No time to worry now – whatever he looked like. He must get to the school or Susan would surely dump him.
Curtis waddled over to his bed, and sat down. Picking up the smart black trousers, he squeezed his swelling legs in. The same with the shirt, jacket, socks, shoes and lastly bow tie. It was tight around his neck, and Curtis did his best to leave it with a loose a knot as possible.
When Curtis reached the school, he feet were already aching. His shiny black shoes were crushing his feet, and worse still...... his abdomen was filling the crotch of his trousers – pushing them down, fighting with the belt keeping them up.
Curtis walked up to the hall door, and handed the doorman his ticket.
“Wearing gloves on a warm evening like this?” asked the doorman.
“What?” asked Curtis, but upon looking at his hands, saw what the man was talking about. Curtis’s hands had turned black, the fingers disappearing into what looked like a flipper.
“Urrrrr..... y-yes.... I’ve got a rash....” stuttered Curtis, and he hurried into the hall. He looked around for Susan in the crowded room. He saw her talking to Mickey Pearce, the class hunk and Curtis arch rival for Susan’s affections.
“Geez, what happened to you?” asked Susan haughtily, pointing to Curtis’s bloated body.
“Sorry – I’ve not been well.” whispered Curtis.
“Looks like he’s been stuffing his fat gob too much.” smirked Mickey.
“No, it’s not like that...... I’ve just got a bit of puppy fat.” replied Curtis hesitantly, all the time feeling the pressure on his body increase. Suddenly, Curtis arched his neck back as a surge of pain ran up his spine. There was a loud tearing sound as a black dorsal fin shot out of Curtis’s back.
“Oh my god!” cried Susan.
Curtis ran out of the doors, feeling his shoes explode of his feet. He shuddered in the men’s toilets, hoping the ground would swallow him up, or that he would awake from this nightmare. No such luck. Suddenly swelling rounder as if pumped full of gas, Curtis boomed out of his smart suit, and became squeezed between the walls of the cubicle he was hiding in.
CRACK!
The wooden partition walls gave way, and Curtis flopped out on to the ceramic floor. His legs merged with his arse, forming a huge tail. His arms shrank back into body, swelling as they went. Before long, the boy that had been Curtis was now a stranded killer whale. Turning his beady eye to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror, Curtis had to admit that he did look good in black and white.
Part 2
Craig looked across the room. Being 21, he was the oldest reveller by nearly six years. All these kids were at their first proper school prom, most with dates. Why had this part of his life passed him by? He had never had a date for any of his school proms, and now – in his last year at University, he was still spending his Saturday night chaperoning a bunch of teenagers. Perhaps he spent too much time reading his books on wonders of the sea to notice those around him.
There was a small commotion across the other side of the room, and Craig saw someone running through the double-doors that lead to the rest rooms. Worried that there might have been a fight, he trotted over to the entrance. He saw Susan, a girl who was allegedly dating Craig’s new next-door neighbour’s son, Curtis. Susan was crying, and being consoled by a number of her friends.
“What’s the matter?” asked Craig to one of them.
“Someone played a sick practical joke on her.” said the school stud, Mickey Pearce.
“What do you mean?” asked Craig.
“It was that pesky new kid Curtis from Swansdown. He put some kind of fake Halloween knife under his jacket that sprung out as if he’d been stabbed. The coward ran off when poor Susan screamed.” replied Mickey.
“Where is he now?” enquired Craig.
“Dunno, perhaps the little creep ran home?”
Suddenly there was a loud crash from the rest room.
The giant killer whale squirmed on the cold concrete floor, desperately trying to shift its massive bulk towards the door, even though it had very little chance of ever squeezing through that narrow entrance. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Craig stared in disbelief at the orca that filled the rest room.
“Oh, Curtis, what have you done?” he said. The killer whale, looking forlornly at the young man, tried to speak.
“My God Craig, what happened here?” shouted a moustachioed man standing in the hallway.
“Um, I think this is someone’s sick practical joke, but God knows how they managed it.” replied Craig quickly.
“Right, this is Cartwright’s doing. That spoilt 9th Grader’s parents work in the zoo. We must get this poor creature out of here before it suffocates.”
“It’s not a fish, Principal.” replied Craig. “It’s a mammal. But it will die here anyway if we don’t moved it.”
“Yes, yes – I know that!” shouted the Principal, “Now is no time for a biology lecture.” He rushed back into the corridor to summon help, whilst Craig knelt by the struggling giant, and rubbed his hands along its smooth skin.
“Oh Curtis, what have you gotten yourself into?” asked Craig, as he pulled off the remnants of a dinner jacket from the orca’s dorsal fin.
It took nearly an hour for the Fire service to arrive with their heavy lifting equipment. The Principal had questioned Cartwright about the incident, but the boy seemed as dumbstruck as everyone else. Word had quickly spread through the prom that somehow there was a real killer whale in the toilets. Parents were called, and the night closed prematurely. Craig stayed with the helpless beast all the time. The roof of the rest room had to be dismantled quickly, and the crane plucked the whale out of the tight confines of the room.
All the fireman, teachers and police were at a loss to even contemplate how it had happened, but the fact of the matter was that they DID have a killer whale to contend with. Craig volunteered to help with the transportation, having a good knowledge of marine life (from his studies) – and also he had no date to take home anyway. Also, Craig suspected the truth.
Alone in the back of lorry, Craig poured handfuls of saltwater over the killer whale’s back to keep it moist. He was slightly worried that the salt solution was too concentrated – as it made his own hands tingle as he rubbed it onto the orca’s drying skin, which showed signs of fading to grey as it dehydrated.
“Curtis, I don’t know how you managed to do this – but you are a lucky person.” said Craig. The killer whale let out a mournful, single squeak.
“I guessed you had gotten yourself into something. If only you could tell me how you managed this?”
The killer whale said nothing this time, not even a click.
Craig continued to caress the unfortunate Curtis, as the lorry and its police escort made its way to the coast. The Press had already been alerted, and were waiting at the dock. The lorry shuddered to a halt, and raised voices could be heard from outside. Flashlights illuminated the sides of lorry. Suddenly, the back door flew open. The continued flashing of the lights startled the killer whale, who rocked from side to side.
“Stop it Curtis. It’s only cameras.” whispered Craig, but it was too late. The lorry’s tyre, already perilously close to the edge of the dock, slipped on the wet concrete, and the lorry plunged over into the icy water. Craig and one of the fireman were taken with it.
The water was pitch black, and Craig had hit his head in the fall. The huge orca began to pound the canvass sides of the lorry, desperate to get out.
Craig, semi-conscious, fumbled with the straps holding him in – but his hands were already numb with cold. He could just made out Curtis the killer whale tearing his way through the woven cover of the lorry’s roof.
“Wait for me.” thought Craig in desperation. He had removed the last strap blocking his way, but then he noticed that his foot was trapped by the stretcher used to lift Curtis.
“I’m going to die....” thought Craig, and he shut his eyes.
Just then, a strange warm feeling flooded through his tired and aching body. He opened his eyes to see Curtis had returned, but perhaps he was hallucinating? The once massive orca was now a fairly plump dolphin, and shrinking all the time. As Craig watched in the murky water, what had once been a large black and white orca was now a grinning dolphin. Whilst this had been happening, Craig had failed to notice that he was no longer drowning.
Curtis the dolphin swam back into the lorry, and nuzzled the stretcher sledge, freeing Craig. Curtis turned around, and offered his tail to Craig as a tow. Craig tried to grab hold of the tail to help pull himself out, but found his arms were very numb. He also felt something digging into his sides, and he fumbled around to find out that it was his belt. In the gloom, Craig saw his belly bulging around the leather strap and buckle, straining the buttons on his shirt and trousers.
“Yesssssss….” hissed Craig.
Trying to free himself from his constraining clothes, Craig found his arms stiffening into hard fins. Curtis nuzzled Craig again, which accelerated the transformation in Craig. Bulking up quickly, Craig torso blasted open his shirt and the seams of his trousers. Only his belt stubbornly refused to split. Craig felt his head starting his shift on his neck, forcing it to point straight forward.
“Oh my, oh my, oh my...” squealed Craig in his mind. “It can’t be?”
It was!
With his legs slimming and merging into a sleek tail, Craig was able to wriggle out of his chaffing belt. Soon he was free to join Curtis in the open sea.
The official report stated that tragic news that young Craig Connery died whilst freeing a stranded orca. The trapped fireman reported that just before he was rescued, he noticed dolphins trying to help – but no one ever saw the young man again. Later in the week, the disappearance of schoolboy Curtis Suraci was assumed to have been another runaway. Only the two dancing dolphins on the horizon knew the truth………….
