Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Chpt 2: I’d always known that my home would be made somewhere other than the city of my birth. Of course, I’d figured it’d be within the same world. But, that was before the extra headgear came into play.

It was weeks before I returned to school. Three, to be exact. One week to learn how to control my new limbs. And, two preceding weeks to come out of my room.

The real challenge with antennas is not controlling them, I learned. But, rather, subduing my own temperament. Hard to do when nurtured by a family known for expressing themselves.

But, eventually, I learned to think before I reacted, and finished my high school years with only a couple vaguely excused incidents.

After graduation, college held no allure. What? And, spend four more years practicing the same level of paranoia I’d barely mastered? No. I decided to seek some place where my differences weren’t so noticeable.

There was this rumor among all the students about there existing a small, elusive community of nomads made up of unicorn people and other weirdos. Of course, the rumor was also thought to have been rooted in drug induced hallucinations.

Well, drugs weren’t part of my vocabulary. But, this little band of misfits, this community calling themselves Spago, soon would be. First, I had to make sure I wasn’t chasing a cloud.

It’s amazing who you’ll find yourself in deep conversation with, if the topic is right.

Sheila Resive was a grade “A” student. And, an equally accomplished stoner. How she managed the two past times, none of us could figure out. Not that we would have ever learned the secret from her, since she never appeared in the hallways, and would only walk into class just as the bell ended.

Under normal circumstances, graduation day would have been the last I’d see of her. And, I wouldn’t have found myself taking a walk down a certain alleyway that I’d viewed her ducking into one normal day.

I wouldn’t have found myself at the end of the cramped corridor, my knuckles raising, hesitating, then soundly rapping on a drab metal door with more confidence than I felt. After my third attempt with no answer my frustration became my confidence. My hand became a fist, my raps became thuds until, finally, I could feel my hair part as my little mood limbs responded in kind. Both hands pummeled the door, now. The noise drowned out the approaching footsteps that I sensed, rather than heard. My antenna stiffened, and I ceased my solitary attack on the door.

There was barely enough time to calm myself before someone on the other side of the door revealed a little square opening in the metal barrier.

“Yeah?” came the sluggish male voice, emitted from a seemingly disembodied mouth.

I unexpectedly inhaled the majority of the smoke that’d erupted from that small portal. When I attempted to speak the fear and fumes mutated my voice into a hoarse, high-pitched version of itself. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Looking for Sheila Resive.”

“Sorry. Wrong number,” he said, the smirk in his voice failing to translate to lips that formed a perpetual “oh”.

The humor might have been funny had it happened to someone else. But, he really didn’t have to add insult to it by slamming shut the mini window!

No he didn’t! More then my hackles raised, and I didn’t care.

“Hey!” I yelled, and resumed my pounding. “Hey!!”

No answer. But I could sense his presence not far, not moving.

I turned around, searching for something less painful to use than my own flesh.

Two bottles, one aluminum pan, and two karate kicks later I felt his return. And, this time I would make sure to raise him out of his stupor.

When the small window slid open I snatched the thin, cherry red upper lip as soon as it made its appearance, and pulled the attached face down until a dull pair of green eyes came into view. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever done.


“Look at me…” I said.

I wasn’t sure he’d see me through the thick glaze that covered his eyes. And, the sea of smoke in which he lived couldn’t be helping matters. So, it took a minute for him to register what he was perceiving. But, in that instant his gaze sharpened, his eyes widened as his focus found my two little friends.

“Oh, aye gawd!” he yelped. “It’s youh!” He snatched his lip back, craning his neck in order to yell into the darkness behind him. “It’s here,” he declared in a surprisingly commanding tone. A lazy chuckle escaped him. “And, it’s a ‘she’!”


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