The Myth Of The Anal Probe

by David Larson

  But the thing that really had unnerved Mike was the wicked smile that had been plastered on Bob’s face. More of a shit-eating grin, whatever that was, than anything else. A grin that said, “Hey, what I’m asking you to do is completely safe and sane…har har har har…not really. We’re all going to die. But it’s going to be great fun!”

  Bob and Mike were walking down a beautiful garden path, and the beauty was becoming an everyday event. That Mike had already started to become jaded to the beauty that surrounded them was lost to him. Had he realized it he might have slipped into an irreversible melancholy.

  The pair were met at the tram stop by another man and three other women that Mike had never met before. Introductions were made all the way around. The man was Jamie, and the women were Kate, Kyra, and Mia. As was the usually the case, jobs, positions or status weren’t part of the introductions. On Earth, these types of social engagements would have been more like, “This is Jamie he’s an investment broker for one of the biggies. Kate is a doctor at Westside General, Kyra here is an architect, and Mia runs a tech company in the valley.”

  Of course, everyone knew exactly who Mike was, and as was always the case no one gushed over him, or asked for an autograph, or wanted to take a selfie. No one threatened to kill him because his views didn’t fit into theirs, and no one berated him because of what he stood for. Everyone just smiled with those perfectly white Hale teeth that were constant fixtures on the perfectly beautiful and tanned faces of every resident of Hale that Mike had met so far.

  “So where are we off to?” Mike asked.

  “Infinity,” Bob said as he pointed down the pathway “and beyond.”

  “Great,” Mike said, “lead the way kemosahbee.”

  They walked down the pathway in silence. He got the impression that everyone there was waiting to see what Mike thought of what they were about to be a part of. As they got closer to their point of “fun,” Mike could hear groups of people talking and laughing. Then he heard the distinct sound of water running. And it seemed as thought it was a fast-moving stream of a rapids.

  As they broke out into a clearing Mike was met by a vison of a fairly large pond. The water, of course was a deep sapphire blue, the deep, lush grass went all the way down to the water’s edge, and same plant and insect life from the memorial gardens flitted everywhere. Mike’s mind unconsciously did a yadda, yadda, yadda, to his surroundings, as he focused on the pond. It all seemed so…normal and unthreatening. At the far end of the pond a shallow rushing stream emptied its rolling contents into the apparent swimming hole, and a smaller stream wondered of into the woods at the other end.

  Bob swung a pointed index finger around in a circle over his head.

  “Last one in is a dammed-if-I-know to a diddle eyed Joe!” He yelled excitedly to all the others.

  “Wait,” Mike said as his face flushed red. “I didn’t bring anything to…”

  Instantly everyone started to strip. Groups of naked people were laughing and running towards that water. Mike was instantly thrilled that Tawny couldn’t make the trip. Bob was already down to what served for underwear here.

  “When in Rome, brother,” Bob said as he winked at Mike. And with that the remainder of Bob’s cloths were flung into the pile, joining that of the rest of the group that was already in the water.

  For a split second, before Bob turned to run for the pond, Mike did a quick “physical assessment” of Bob’s attributes compared to his. Satisfied that Tawny would not be disappointed, Mike shelved the mental dick-measuring contest, disrobed, and ran for the water.

  Naturally the water was a perfect temperature, and tasted just like the sweet, refreshing water he drank back in the village. Bob and the others were swimming around in a group, some laughing and splashing and other treading water as they talked, and other just floated n their backs taking in the warm sunlight.

  “What do you think, buddy?” Bob asked as he swam over to Mike.

  “Just like everything else here,” Mike said, “beautiful and perfect.”

  They swam for the rest of the day and Mike was completely absorbed in the act of simply being. He didn’t have unending questions that nagged him constantly and crept into his mind, like flood waters seeping into every crevasse of his home as a river rises to destroy everything he’d worked a lifetime to compile. He wasn’t worried about getting that promotion or raise at work. He wasn’t worried about meeting some moronic irrelevant deadline that his boss had dropped on him at the last minute. He wasn’t worried about paying his taxes, or making a house payment, or what happened if he got sick, or making sure he was home in time to let the dogs out. He was simply happy and living in the luscious, mind expanding freedom of life on Hale.

  Later, some of the people that had been swimming had left the pound and either had gone back home, or were out walking in the woods. All of Mikes group had left except Mia and Bob. Now the trio was laying in the deep green carpet of grass, sunning their naked bodies, free of the yoke of responsibility. Mike was amazed at how quickly he had become at ease with his own nudity in a mixed group. On Earth, he had eventually quit going to the gym. The obligatory old men that loved to parade around naked, or flop one nasty old foot up on the bench next to him, as the freely dried their crotches within feet of his face, had eventually been too much for him. They creeped him out, and he felt ogled when he went to use the showers.

  “I don’t get the weather here,” he said to Bob.

  “You seem to be getting it just fine at this point,” Bob said, smiling up toward the sun.

  “No,” Mike said, “is it always like this or do you have seasons? Did I just luck out to get here during the summer, or is every day like this?”

  “This ain’t Star Trek, brother,” Bob said.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “If you were to instantly be dropped into Bismarck North Dakota in December would you instantly assume the entire planet was a snow covered, empty soybean field?”

  “Well, no,” Mike said.

  “Didn’t you ever think is was odd that the assumption was made that where ever Kirk and the soon to be dead guys in the red shirts went, they would refer to their surroundings as life on the entire planet?”

  “Not really,” Mike said.

  Bob rolled over on his side to face Mike.

  “Not one time?” Bob said. “You never thought, ‘Hey wait. Is all of this planet just like Chicago in the roaring 20s?’”

  “Well no,” Mike said. I never really thought about it.”

  “Well that explains why the series was so wildly popular, I guess. Not a lot of deep thinkers.”

  “What does any of that have to do with weather?” Mike asked. He was sitting up now.

  “This is just like any other planet, in that it gets cooler as you travel North. The geography and weather are governed by topographical phenomenon. We have deserts, and rain forests, glaciers, mountains, valleys, all of that.”

  “So where is this place, planetarily?”

  “Think tropical,” Bob said “Like the Caribbean, or Hawaii, or Tahiti.”

  “It really is like this nearly all the time,” Mia added.

  “What are the other parts of the planet like?” Mike asked.

  “How do you mean that?” Bob said. “Do you mean like socially, or in some other way?”

  “All of the communities on Hale are just like this,” Mia said as she sat up to join the conversation. “The only difference is geography and climate.”

  “Yeah,” Bob added. “This is kind of the focal point, in a planetary kind of way. Most of the people live here, for obvious reasons, so it follows that most of the facilitating comes from this area.”

  “I used to live much farther north and west of here,” Mia said. “But I find that I’m happiest in this area.”

  “You see,” Bob said, “we don’t move someplace and then try to bend it to fit what our expectations are for a happy life. If you prefer it cooler then you move north
. If not, you move south. We aren’t encumbered by the cost of living, or borders, or warring governments. If we like someplace we move there, and live.”

  “Is that not the way it is on Earth?” Mia asked.

  “Have you never been on a deep space probe there?” Mike asked her. He had totally lost the inhibition of having an intelligent conversation with a beautiful, totally naked woman.

  “No,” She said. “I’ve never had the interest to be part of that.”

  “Well,” Mike said, “on Earth, where you live the rest of your life depends on quite a few factors that don’t exist in any way on this planet.”

  “You’re darn tootin’,” Bob said.

  “How so?” Mia asked.

  “Well first, you live wherever your parents decide to live, for the first 18 to 20 years of your life. Their decision is usually based on where they grew up, and on jobs they have and what the can afford.”

  “Afford,” Mia said. “I’ve heard of that. It seems horrible. It seems like being strapped down with invisible chains.”

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “That’s a pretty good analogy. Usually the best places to live have an incredible cost of living.”

  “You might want to explain that,” Bob said.

  “Well, the cost of food, and housing are usually much higher than in less sought-after places. And things like taxes, gas, utilities are higher as well.”

  “Do you mean that on earth,” Mia said wide eyed “you have to pay for essential services. Like housing, and food.”

  “On Earth you have to pay for everything,” Mike said. “And I do mean everything. Nothing is free. If this pond were on Earth, eventually someone with a lot of money would buy it, and charge people to come and visit. And people would happily do that.”

  “How can you own a place like this?” She asked.

  “Someone owns everything there,” Mike said sadly.

  “What happens if people don’t have money?” Mia asked.

  “Oh,” Bob said as he laid back and put his hands behind his head “I can’t wait to hear you field this one, pard.”

  “Well then they go without,” Mike said as he looked at the ground.

  “Without,” Mia said, “without what? We were talking about the essentials of life. Certainly, you can’t mean they do without that.”

  “I’m afraid I do,” Mike said, ashamed. “If someone can’t pay for housing they have to live on the street. If they can’t afford food then they starve, or the lucky ones can go to charitable organizations and get something to eat.”

  “How can people exist like that?” Mia asked.

  “Some don’t,” Bob said to the sky with his eyes closed. “Tell her.”

  “People die of hunger every day on Earth,” Mike said. “And before you ask, yes there is enough food to feed them. Either they can’t pay, or they live in a place where the government is corrupt and lets them die. People freeze to death as they sit on the street homeless. People needlessly die of exposure and pestilence every day.”

  “Why wouldn’t people do something to stop that?” Mia asked. “It seems horrible.”

  “Sometimes nothing is done because people are apathetic,” he said. “If it’s not happening to them, then they just don’t care. Sometimes people are openly hostile to the poor, because they think that it’s their own fault for not working hard enough to get money to live.”

  “Tell you what,” Bob said sitting up again to join the group, “why don’t you explain sports to her. It’s just as screwed up, but quite a bit less depressing.”

  “Don’t you have anything that equates to sports here?” Mike asked. “No games, or teams or anything at all.”

  “Why would we?” Bob said. I’m sure that once you get into the explanation it will become clear why we don’t have that here.”

  Mia was sitting across from Mike simply waiting to hear about the seemingly innocuous idea of a sporting event.

  At first Mike was at a loss, because he had no idea how to begin an explanation of competition at ground zero.

  “Start from the beginning,” Bob offered to the silence.

  “Well,” Mike started, “on Earth there are different kinds of sporting events…”

  “Farther back,” Bob offered.

  “On Earth people like to compete…”

  “Way back,” Bob said, “back, back, back, back, back. It’s a home run!”

  Mike glared back at Bob’s smile.

  “Everything on Earth is a competition,” Mike said to Mia. Then he glanced at Bob for approval. Bob gave him the ‘OK’ sign. “We compete for jobs, we compete for relationships, we compete with our neighbors for status symbols.”

  “But…” Mia started to say. But Bob cut her off with a raised hand.

  “Save all questions for the end of the lecture,” Bob said.

  “It really is the only way we know to exist,” Mike went on. “All of that competition extends to our leisure time as well. Families play games for fun. Card games, board games, video games, and things like that.”

  “That seems like a good time to me,” Mia said. “What’s the down side?”

  “Well,” he said “until I got here I would have said there was nothing wrong with that. Games always pit one person or a group of people against each other. And they play until one side wins. All games have rules…”

  “Why rules?” Mia asked.

  “Yeah dude,” Bob said. Why rules?”

  Mike dismissed Bob’s sarcasm.

  “We have to have rules in a game, otherwise people will cheat,” Mike said.

  “Ooooopsy,” Bob said. “Afraid we don’t have a translation for that here. You’ll have to explain cheating I’m afraid.”

  “Cheating,” Mike said, frustrated, “is when one side or person purposefully does something they know is wrong in order to win a game that they are playing with another person.”

  “Why would…” Mia said, and Bob cut her off with a raised hand again.

  “Don’t go there,” He suggested.

  “You see,” Bob took over for a little while “Sports, and games are a human extension of war. Except no one dies…usually. One side attacks, and the other side defends. This goes on for a specific amount of time and who ever scores the most points at the end of the game wins.”

  “Why would anyone turn war into a game?” Mia asked in shocked surprise.

  “Oh,” Bob said. “Excellent question from the class.”

  “It’s who we are Mia.” Mike said. “And I guess it’s my job to change all of that.”

  Eighteen:

  Mike was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He had gone to Tawny’s office, “just to say Hi”. The tension he felt was like a physical presence that stalked around the room. Hiding in corners and waiting for the chance to leap on Mike’s back, devouring him in a single swallow. Tawny, of course, was relaxed and as personable as ever. Nothing seemed to fluster her.

  At some point Mike blurted out that he would love to have Tawny come over to his place sometime so they could talk privately.

  “I think that would be lovely,” Tawny had said.

  “Lovely,” Mike thought blissfully. “She thinks spending time alone with me would be lovely.”

  It was at that single moment in time that Mike had a complete grasp on the definition of giddy. Because if there ever was a feeling of being giddy, surely he was the embodiment of that emotion right then. He was sure that if you were to look up the word giddy in the dictionary there would be a picture of the current stupid look on his face right next to it.

  The date and time had been set and now Mike was just standing in his home waiting for the love of his life to show up. He had made sure that the decor of his surroundings was perfect, and would impress his future wife. Naturally, the understanding that she would see his place however it might be that she perceived him, was so far from his realm of thinking right now, that it existed in another time zone.

  Then it was time.
His door whooshed open and there she stood. Right then time stood still, and he soaked in the radiant splendor of the answer to everything he could have ever wanted his life to become. He savored the instant that she walked across the threshold of his life, and entered into what would eventually become an eternity together in blissful, carefree, love that would eventually rise and envelop them both in a blanket of endless joy.

  “I’d say you look beautiful,” Mike said, “but that would redefine the word.”

  Tawny tilted her head to one side.

  “Why, thank you,” She said.

  Mike had chosen Van Morrison to serenade the couple from the ceiling. Moon Dance filled the room with its beatnik like rhythm and slow under current of rolling bass line. Van laid the piano cords down and Mike smiled.

  “I love Van Morrison,” Tawny said.

  “Oh, I was afraid you had never heard it before,” Mike said. “But this music pretty much relates to everyone eventually, if they’ve heard it or not, I guess.”

  “I fell in love with it on one of my very first trips to Earth,” Tawny said as she walked into Mike’s home. “It’s so rich and meaningful. You can just feel that he puts every single fiber of himself into what he writes.”

  “Please, have a seat,” Mike said.

  He was going to ask if he could get her anything to drink and remembered that there was no form of alcohol on Hale. Drinking was simply done in order to quench a thirst, never just to be sociable, or give your hand something to hold while your face was busy trying to impress people.

  “How have you been getting along, Mike?” She asked.

  Every time she said his name Mike felt like his fingertips had been hooked up to a car battery.

  “Ah,” Mike stumbled, “things have been pretty great actually. Well, great, and terrifying, and amazing all rolled up into one neat package, I guess.”