A Pook Is Born

by Heather Wood

  She thrashed her body, throwing her bed covers to the ground. She tried to yell, but couldn’t. There was no air.

  She reached instinctively for her face, and her hands found instead a furry round body the size of a basketball.

  In the next instant, it was gone, and Rae coughed, sucking in precious air that smelled faintly of laundry detergent and patchouli.

  She was in her room, and a growling basketball hovered over to the top of Rae's bookshelf making a grumpy noise.

  “Were you sleeping ON MY FACE?” Rae rasped.

  The fuzzy pink demon growled, sounding just like an electric can opener. It had been two weeks since this new…pet?...had come to live with them

  There had been a heated debate between the two friends about their fuzzy house guest.

  Comet claimed that the thing was a North American fruit bat, and that it was a gentle creature. Rae had pointed out that that thing was pink and had never slept hanging upside down, and a quick Google search should be enough to show that the furball was no bat.

  Comet’s lip had quivered. “If we call animal control, they will poke and prod and destroy this little baby, just because he’s different.”

  Ray had sighed. “Comet, don’t make that face. I can’t resist the face.”

  Pushing her advantage, Comet’s eyes became liquid pools of sadness.

  Ray folded. “Okay! Okay, we can keep the weird bat!” she grumbled, walking off.

  And that was that.

  Now Rae stared at the creature, plucking pink fuzz off of her lip.

  Comet’s voice floated into the room:

  “It seems to me, you lived your life

  Like a candle in the wind...”

  The fuzzy creature shuddered.

  “Never knowing who to cling to

  When the rain set in…”

  It’s eyes widened to the size of Olympic swimming pools before closing languidly. Rae swore she could hear a purring sound as the creature flapped its wings and floated drunkenly into the kitchen.

  Rae, feeling crumpled and still wearing her clothes from the day before, followed.

  As Rae entered the kitchen, Comet was in her full glory, wearing a sequined apron over her kimono. She was cooking pancakes.

  “Peanut butter pancakes,” Rae breathed. She lumbered to the table, stopping at the fridge first to drag an almost-empty bottle of imitation maple syrup with her.

  “They canceled my poli-sci today,” Comet informed her. “I’m pissed, because we were supposed to have a test, and I have studied the shit outta current East African politics.”

  Comet sauntered over to plop a fresh pancake onto Rae's plate. She held out a torn piece of another pancake to the creature, who landed on Comet’s shoulder, nuzzling right into the crook of Duchess’ muscular neck.

  “Pooooooooooooooooooook,” sighed the pink thing.

  “Who’s my little Pookie? That’s a good kitty,” Comet crooned, scratching the thing between its nonexistent ears.

  Rae stared. The syrup bottle was forgotten and dangled dangerously from her fingers.

  Taking this in stride, Comet twirled her spatula and hooked the syrup bottle back from Rae's undependable grasp. She spun the bottle in the air for emphasis. “How am I supposed to be the first cross-dressing president if my professor can’t get her shit together?”

  “Is that still a term? Cross-dressing? Is that politically correct?” Rae pointed her fork quizzically at Comet.

  “Rae, I don’t give two drunken fucks whether it is or isn’t. For me, cross-dressing sounds like an extreme fitness routine, and you know I’m an extreme dresser, okaaay? Seriously- I believe we all have the right to describe ourselves as WE choose. Not as Huffington Post does.”

  Comet reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  “Do not say it. Just one.”

  Rae raised her hands in mock surrender.

  Comet stroked the snoozing Pook.

  “Take homie here. He might call himself a Spherical Pastel American.”

  The women looked at each other, then burst into laughter, at which the Pook shook, levitated, and shrieked, “POOOOOOKKKKAAAA!!!!” in fury.

  Rae sighed. “And we’re off again….”

  4.

  Finch sighed as he looked up: The sun was bright in the strange blue sky. It was late morning.

  People were noticing him.

  Not their fault. He was extremely noticeable.

  Finch was over six and a half feet tall, with caramel brown skin and a shock of lavender hair.

  He scanned the sidewalk behind his shades. He walked slowly, very slowly, beyond the passers-by who tried not to stare at this tall, beautiful man who strode so purposefully through their midst. He wanted to make sure people appreciated what they saw. It wasn’t every day that someone of his style crossed paths with Earthers.

  He knew a Hunter from the Dark Comet Faction had landed moments before him. It was a race to the prize. But now several hours had passed with no sign of the rival, even to someone with Finch’s considerable tracking skills.

  Another Earther, this one walking a large rodent on a small leash. He almost tripped as he examined Finch.

  Finch frowned.

  “It may be possible, I’m too noticeable,” Finch muttered to himself as the rodent sniffed his shoe and the man apologized profusely for existing.

  When they moved on, Finch checked out his own reflection in a nearby window. He had to admit: Even his gums looked good. His eyes traveled to the wares inside the store. There were a lot of sideways hats and rainbow underpants.

  ‘The fashions here really could be more subtle’, he thought.

  However- back to his mission.

  He had very little intel to go on. Blue hair, artist, Los Angeles. But most importantly…possibly the Seer.

  Finch almost jumped when two blue-haired men rounded the corner, one man had aqua-colored tips and the other had a deep navy. They loudly debated the finer points of something called “Game of Thrones.” Together the two walked another very large rodent, also with blue on the tuft on its tail.

  Blue hair was more common than Finch had thought.

  He had to find the Seer before the Lunar Noir Faction did. Who knew what would happen if they got her in their clutches?

  He was honor-bound to protect her life. And he would look good doing it.

  As he rounded the corner onto Melrose Avenue, a sharp tone struck in his ear. He ducked into an alley and pressed his fingers to his temple. A small screen projected onto his palm, and a brief text message appeared, using the squiggly lines of Finch’s native language:

  “Captain. Your coordinates.”

  Finch sighed. How was he supposed to get anything accomplished if he was constantly being interrupted by HQ?

  “Didn’t you calibrate this earlier?”

  “Sorry, Captain, we just need them one more time.”

  Finch began to tap a response with his thumb, when his jaw dropped. Walking past, on the street perpendicular to his alley hiding place, was a pair of equally tall women, one dark, one pale. The pale one had blue hair, and the dark one was carrying…..a rare and lethal POOK!

  Message forgotten, Finch went into pursuit mode. Forget HOW they had secured a Pook; Did they KNOW the danger????

  It was a very slow chase.

  Anyone watching would have never known that the striking man in the oddly militaristic uniform was trying with all his strength to reach the languid Amazon and her lamé-clad friend.

  Finch, like all of his people, struggled with the strong gravity of the Earth. His ground suit could help, but he didn’t want to alert the Pook to his presence.

  **** (I’m adding stars here because the voice changes from Finches perspective to Rae and Comet’s)

  Rae and Comet reached the door of the shop, and shoved the ‘Closed for Repairs’ sawhorse away. Walking in, they shook their heads again at the extent of the damages.

  “At least the check
from the insurance company finally came. Otherwise, I’d be fucked.” Rae ran her hands over the new bar stools she’d had installed. It seemed like the perfect time to update the whole place, and so she’d taken out the designs she’d kept in her ‘some day’ box and made them reality.

  “It looks great. This whole thing may have been a blessing in disguise. When you re-open, you will own the fiercest place in Hollywood.” Comet gazed approvingly at her own photo hanging over the piercing station. “Did you ever hire a piercer?”

  That was one of Rae's upgrades. She’d decided to bring in a piercer to add body modification services. “Not yet. I’m tossing some names around, though.”

  Outside, Finch reached the shop and took a quick assessment of its façade. Artfully decorated, multi-colored, and quaint. A sign in the window said ‘Now Hiring: Experienced Piercer’.

  He stepped back. He frowned. Maybe…he had found a way into this strange human’s world. He could figure out if she was indeed the Seer.

  Doing a quick finger comb of his silken hair, Finch turned to walk inside.

  “Finch.”

  The tall man stopped short, hearing the unpleasantly familiar voice. Finch turned and met the dark eyes of that vulgar peasant, Gno Knuffin. The two men stood frozen on the sidewalk.

  They spoke in hissed whispers.

  “Knuffin,” Finch sneered. “A bit out of your depth, aren’t you?" His banter turned to taunting. "Is everyone else in your battalion ill? Why would they send you?”

  “I didn’t expect to see you, Finch. I’d been made to understand that Earth humidity didn’t agree with your coiffure.” Gno deadpanned this zinger with an alacrity that infuriated Finch.

  “I warn you. This mission is of utmost priority to my commander and to the entire Faction. We will not equivocate on our intent. The mark is mine.” Finch’s nostrils flared as he pronounced this.

  “Interesting.” Gno turned and strode into the shop.

  Finch started, unprepared for Gno to abandon their masculine battle of wits and simply approach the mark without a gentleman’s agreement of when to begin.

  “Ill-bred cretin”, he muttered, and glared at Gno’s retreating back. He met eyes with the blue-haired woman, who had raised her eyebrows.

  “I hear you need a piercer.” Gno’s voice sounded low and arrogant to Finch’s ears. Finch grit his teeth and followed the other man inside.

  “Yes, you must be looking for the best of piercers. And that is what I am,” asserted Finch. The two men stood before Rae, who looked baffled.

  “Sorry, he was just leaving,” said Gno, narrowing his eyes at Finch.

  Eyes moving back and forth between the two men, Rae opened her mouth to speak.

  “Mmmmmmm…..”

  Rae jerked her head around to see Comet leaning against a bar stool and fanning herself with a copy of ‘XDress’ Magazine. She was ogling the men like they were made of bacon.

  “Comet, would you mind grabbing an application form from my office?” Rae turned towards her and gave Comet the wide-eyed ‘pull it together’ face.

  “Make that two.”

  Finch had had enough. He stepped in and extended his hand to Rae.

  “Good morning. My name is Finch Florentine.”

  “Sweet Mother Mary!” Comet fanned faster and scurried into the back office.

  Rae eyed the two unusual men. “So, how did you guys find me? Did you see the ad on Craigslist?”

  Finch took the lead.

  “Craig! Yes. Capital fellow. I found his list enjoyable.”

  Rae stared at him with her eyebrows aloft.

  “I saw the sign.” Gno gestured casually to the window.

  “Here we are!” Comet sashayed from the office carrying two forms. She had clearly spent the last minute hastily applying makeup, and she looked runway-ready as she handed the men their papers.

  Rae cleared her throat.

  “Anyway. Just fill those out, then come back here on Monday. Make sure to list all your experience. I’m only looking for seasoned professionals.”

  Gno frowned.

  “That’s three days away.”

  Comet smiled.

  “I can keep you occupied until then.” She blew a lascivious kiss to Gno.

  “POOOOOOOKAAAA!!!”

  A crash accompanied the shriek from the back office. The women sighed simultaneously. The men- for once in accord- jumped to attack stance. Finch actually drew his sword.

  Rae recoiled. “Is that a... sword!?”

  Comet raced to the office. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. Just got stuck in the toilet again.”

  Her head popped around the office door. “We have a new pet, and he’s getting…adjusted.”

  Shaking her head, Rae grimaced. “The toilet AGAIN. I just shampooed him this morning.”

  Insensible of the stunned shock in the giants before her, Rae smiled tolerantly.

  “Is there something else you two need? I do need to move on with my day here..?”

  Gno bowed perfunctorily. “Thank you, ma’am. Monday.”

  He exited purposefully, as Finch furtively re-sheathed his weapon.

  “Monday! Good.” He rose up to his full height and lifted his head.

  Rae held up a hand, “The sword… Not necessarily needed, right?”

  Finch nodded slowly.

  “I will return with the required information, and you will find my skills unmatched. I shall fulfill your needs.” He bowed low, then swept out the door.

  Comet followed him with her eyes, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “Baby, you can fulfill my needs and anything else you want.”

  Rae shook her head. “One of them had a sword?! If he shows up again, we’re running.”

  “It’s alright, he’s just artistic. I’ve seen it before” Comet reassured.

  Rae tossed an apple at her. “Sure, that’s what it is. Give this to his Shitty Highness.”

  “Pooka?”

  The Pook’s wings drooped by his sides and he hovered towards Rae, his eyes downcast.

  “Why do you keep climbing into the bowl? It’s gross!”

  The pathetic remorse in his round eyes accompanied another small expostulation:

  “poooo-ka.”

  Rae sighed. “Poo is right,” she muttered.

  But as she did, Pook purred remorsefully. His eyes threatened to cover his whole body.

  Rae sighed. “It’s ok.” She picked him up and started to rock him back and forth:

  “Don’t let the sun go down on me, although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see…”

  A shudder went through the Pook’s circular frame. With closed eyes and a satisfied exhale, he breathed:

  “Poooooookkkkkkaaaaaaa…..”

  ◆◆◆

  Outside, Gno and Finch strode so quickly down the street that they were passing traffic.

  They kept pace with each other, their gravity auras humming gently. Gno’s broad shoulder jostled Finch’s. Finch knocked into Gno, but the two men kept walking, faster and faster…until Finch couldn’t keep up.

  Gno turned around and smiled, resting his hand against his lean hip. “You Lunar Blanc Faction folk are really behind on your technology.”

  Without bothering to respond, Finch leapt straight through the air, crashing Gno to the sidewalk and pinning him to the ground by the neck.

  “But we are so much stronger,” Finch gasped, working against Earth’s pull.

  Gno kicked his legs out and spun half his body out of Finch’s reach. Finch pressed his forearm further into his opponent’s throat.

  By this time, people were gathering. A couple of kids with frappuccinos in their hands pulled out phones to film.

  The men were fighting, true, but they also looked like two, really, really, hot Trekkies, which made them only partially unusual for the neighborhood.

  Gno grunted; then, with another supple kick, he freed one of the teenagers of her frappuccino (dulce de leche, extra whip), sending the drink flying in a na
rrow arc through the air. The adolescent let out a little shriek, but it was hard to tell if she was upset about the loss of her drink or impressed by Gno’s athletic finesse.

  The sugary beverage landed with a plop on Finch’s head.

  Gno used Finch’s caffeinated distraction to find his own feet.

  A dozen people were staring at him.

  “I can’t believe that worked,” he said nonchalantly.

  There was a buzz in the air; Gno spun to see Finch, who had activated his combat shield.

  “Shit,” Gno sputtered and took off down Fairfax street.

  There was a loud slam for each of Finch’s footsteps behind him.

  Gno looked back.

  Finch’s skin glowed with a lavender aura; each footfall cracked the cement beneath him.

  Gno’s people did great with continuous gravity auras (The Lunar Noir Faction always focused on practicality rather than panache), but the Luna Blanc Faction absolutely had them beat with combat auras.

  But the combat auras cost a lot of power. They couldn’t be maintained for long.

  Gno ran to an apartment building and hefted himself onto a balcony.

  Finch didn’t slow a bit as he followed.

  Crash, crash.

  The two men spidered up the building. It was an exciting scene; on the ground, phones were produced from every direction as at least a dozen onlookers filmed the tense upward chase. Others simply walked on, assuming this whole event was just part of another film being shot in LA.

  Gno reach the roof first and looked back at Finch, who made a swipe for Gno’s leg. Gno dodged, but just barely: Finch was good.

  Gno sprinted across the roof, Finch giving chase with an inhuman burst of speed.

  The roof, it must be said, was rather nice, with sun chairs and a pool, and that pool was Finch’s downfall. He tried to dodge, but it was too late.

  His momentum carried him a step or two into the air before he hit the water like a meteor, creating a huge splash that emptied about a third of the pool.

  Finch burst to the surface, sputtering.

  “You guys haven’t solved the water problem, yet, I see,” Gno said mockingly.

  Gno crossed his arms nonchalantly, which showed off his admirable forearm muscles. With a gentle touch of a fingertip, he adjusted a dial at the inside of his wrist, and he took on a blue hue.