by Pete Lockett
Did I really eat flowers? he thought, as he became more lucid, almost resigned to the fact he was in the wild and not a bedroom. He tried to stand but his legs felt too heavy and awkward. His vision continued to be restricted, regardless of how much he tried to angle his head around.
Then, as he started to become aware of the chirpings, squeaks, squalls and murmurings of his surroundings, he noticed something far more sinister. It was a low-pitched, growling, snarling, dog-like sound that slowly got louder and louder, closer and closer. It started to rumble his eardrums and suddenly he felt an instinctive whole body nervous spasm of panic and in a flash he was back in the protective enclosure where he’d woken the previous morning.
What the hell! This is some mad stuff right here! This is one indelible dream. How did I get back in here? he wondered.
He thought back on the previous afternoon where he had flinched from the large coke can and ended back in the hut. As mysterious as that was, he thought that he’d moved on but here it was again, haunting his perceptions of any reasonable reality. He looked through the opening he was getting to know so well. In the short time it had taken him to wake, the day had started to take hold and the dawn was rapidly being erased by a scorching sun, full of intent to burn and bake.
He then noticed something even more menacing. Jets of steam started to gust past and into the opening, a musty, breathy steam, accompanied by low toned breaths that resounded in metronomic time with the exhalations. It was most certainly the breathing of some terrifyingly massive animal. It shook and resonated through his whole body as it rushed in past his head in short bursts.
That’s it, this will be the end, thought Ed. He strangely hoped he would be a satisfying meal for the unknown beast, not just a mere hors d’oeuvre or snack. He retreated back into his protective cell as much as possible, feeling very restricted and tight for space.
This is tiny, he thought as he realised his back and sides were tight against the walls of the small claustrophobic space. Nervously, he peered through the opening in front of him and caught first sight of the fearsome animal. Light brown hairs started to appear, erect stalks, more like small ropes. Then a gigantic, wet, black-button nose, with two massive steaming nostrils with lizard like scaly texture. The odour of the steamy exhalations was strong and ominously dog-like, overpowering his senses as it filled the enclosure with a fearful presence.
He heard the animal pause before its large nose edged slightly into the opening. The nostrils were large, wide open, cavernous tunnels. He could see right down into them like looking into some sort of strange drainage pipe. Larger whiskers also became visible as the animal reached in further. Then the inevitable sniff, an inhalation that pulled the air away from the inside of the enclosure, pulling at Ed’s face and making it hard to breathe for a millisecond. The protruding snout then retreated and there was a momentary lull in proceedings.
Maybe he didn’t see me? Maybe if I keep still and quiet he’ll go away. I mustn’t move; I must keep dead still!
These thoughts of invisibility were short-lived as he peered out at the black button as it approached once more. Then in an instant, his world was turned upside down. The animal pushed its nose into the opening and with what felt like the force of a bulldozer, shifted him backwards, lifting his whole protective shelter back on itself and sideways. He spun like a teddy bear in a washing machine, over and over, completely losing orientation, perspective and direction. He could see the world whizzing by outside through the opening. It was if he was on a fast train hurtling through the countryside, spinning in a circle. As it slowed he could see he was upside down, although still inside the protective hut.
He was dazed and confused but before he had time to think, he was off again, tossed like a pancake, feeling like a billiard ball rattling around in an empty suitcase.
This time he came to an abrupt stop, upright and peering out from the opening down towards the stream. In his line of sight was a terrifying looking, colossal paw, black fur at the bottom, beautiful and glossily groomed with light brown and white highlights, symmetrically decorated with fearsome looking whitey-grey sharp claws. Another paw entered the field of vision and they began to get closer.
His head once again pulsated like a squeeze ball in a weight lifter’s fist.
“All right, whatever. Big oaf of a hound, you can’t understand a word I’m saying but I couldn’t care less, you’re doing me a favour. Eat me and just get me out of this ridiculous Alice in bloody arid-land, nightmare. I’m all yours!”
The paws stopped in their tracks, claws retracted and a silence ensued for what seemed like an age.
“You are one of us,” said a voice from outside the enclosure.
Another silence. Ed was dumbfounded. A monstrous sized hound that could speak! It really must be a dream.
“Okay, I give in. I’m obviously asleep, and when I wake up I’ll be in my bed. This is driving me nuts. It’s the worst dream I have ever had!”
“You’ll wake up exactly where you are. Besides that, you don’t have much time. You need to listen to me. I’ve got some important information for you.”
“Great. Two minutes ago I was about to be your dinner, and now you want to have a chat! This is ridiculous,” spluttered Ed.
The hound paused for thought and moved closer, lying down on the ground so Ed could see more of him through the opening. Glossy light brown fur with white trim, moist black button and thick long protuberant black whiskers.
“That was before you spoke. It’s been some while since I spoke to anyone. Come out and we can talk. Anyway, I wasn’t going to eat you,” said the creature.
“Come out so I can be eaten more like!”
“I won’t eat you, just come out.”
Ed was paralysed with bemusement.
“What the hell, if it’s a dream and I get eaten then I’ll wake up. If I get eaten and it’s not a dream than I’ll be out of this hell, and if I don’t get eaten then I’ll be having a conversation with a giant hound; worthwhile in its own right. It’s a no-lose situation!”
Slowly, he began to move closer to the opening and move his head out of the hole, soon bringing into view the terrifying size of this oversized animal.
“Don’t be scared, don’t be scared,” barked the hound. “We have far more in common than you could ever imagine.”
Ed manoeuvred himself out into the open, cautiously but philosophically.
“Crikey, you’re massive, a massive fox!” he gasped as he began to realise exactly what he was dealing with.
“Well, it’s you that’s small rather than me that’s large. I am actually only a medium-sized fox,” replied the fox.
“Well, if six foot two inches is small, then I guess I’m small. It’s all relative, and doesn’t change the fact that you’re enormous,” rebuked Ed.
“Listen, there’s a lot for you to find out. How many days have you been awake? Is it your first time?”
“Well if you mean, ‘is it the first time I have woken up in some sort of surreal arid landscape with oversized vegetation, nearly been killed by a Coke can, had flowers for supper, been put in a tumble dryer by an outsized hound and struck up a conversation with a fox ten times my size,’ then I have to say yes, this is my first time!”
“Ah. Yes, it’s your first time. That’s obvious now. Good that you’ve eaten something though. They don’t always do that. How long have you been in this state?”
“Well I guess it’s around twenty-four hours or so.”
“Have you seen what you look like?”
“Well if you mean do I carry a vanity mirror with me everywhere I go then I have to say no! Also, you might have noticed there are a lack of service stations and toilets with mirrors in the bushes!”
“Well toilets aren’t my main concern. Didn’t you drink from the stream at all? Didn’t you see your reflection?”
“It was getting dark last night. I didn’t notice my reflection. Do I look that bad?”
“No, not
that bad, possibly even normal. Let’s go down to the stream and have a drink and get you to see yourself.”
“Is this some sort of trap? Why do you want me to see myself? I know what I look like.”
“Yes, I’m sure you know what you looked like. Let’s go down there.”
“Okay. I’m not exactly feeling on top of the world. I can’t stand up and have to crawl. I’m not exactly lining myself up for the Olympics.”
“I noticed! I’ll go over there and see you in half an hour.”
“Half an hour; it’s not that far!”
“See you there in half an hour. You are a bit of a slow mover.”
The fox shot upright onto all fours, his fat upper thighs powering his powerful legs, so slender at the bottom. He bounded off down the slight incline, his big bushy brush tossing around behind him from side to side. He seemed to Ed to have the power of a stallion, galloping down to the water’s edge in a matter of seconds.
Ed meanwhile threw his tired arms and legs forward in the motion of a broken fan running out of battery power.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he struggled to drag himself in the footsteps of the proud dog. “If this is not as surreal as you can get, then I’m a Baffin.”
Breathless and some while later, he made the final languid motions to pull himself next to the fox, who was reclining beside the water with his head bent over his body snatching spasmodically at fleas with his sharp, white, shiny fangs. As his head moved sharply from side to side, he bit exploringly into his fur, dislodging the unwanted insects and launching them in Ed’s direction.
“Great, thanks for that,” said Ed, as an oversized flea smacked him on the head and bounced to his left side. Not fazed by the large insect, he glanced to where it landed and saw a procession of mouse-sized ants, each labouring with its own over sized item. Twigs, stones and bits of grass all passed by upon the never-ending parade of little soldiers going about their duties. Ed was mesmerised by their methodical organisation. It was as if each individual insect was being controlled by a central controller guiding them on their intricate un-conflicting path. They went around, over, under, across and through the others’ routes with pinpoint precision, never faltering or losing control of the unwieldy objects that looked far too big to manage.
It looked incredible seeing them like this with such clarity. He thought about how organised and powerful humanity would be if people worked together with such common goals, never faltering from the task at hand, working towards the service of the whole community. He looked up at the fox, glistening brown in the light. Beside them the water sparkled calmly, reflecting laser-like sparkles from the tiny ripples towards the centre.
“Let’s get on with it. You want me to see my reflection. Why should I care? It’s all so very odd. I’m just going along with anything right now, conversations with a fox, humongous everyday objects, whatever, bring it on! Anyway, how come you can speak in the first place; you’re a fox for heaven’s sake?”
“Just look at yourself in the reflection and then we can talk. Keep calm though and don’t be alarmed by what you see. It’s perfectly normal. I’d advise you to sit down, but in the circumstances it would be rather pointless.”
“What do you mean, pointless? What’s your problem? Why should I sit down?” snapped Ed as he moved closer to the water’s edge trying to reflect back on any incident which might have left marks on his face. His memory was sketchy, just tiny glimpses and flashes. He thought of his life and his modestly successful young business. He thought of his wife and home in London. He was a fairly contented man, not eaten away by over-ambition or under-achievement.
He continued down to the water, angled his head down, drank a satisfying gulp and half submerged his face to cool himself. He pulled his head from the stream, shook it like a soggy dog and looked upwards.
“I’m not looking. I don’t know why you want me to look, but I’m not doing it.”
The fox jumped up elegantly and bounded over to beside Ed.
“Okay, then look at my reflection; what do you see?”
“Erm, well, a fox obviously.”
The fox snarled approvingly, revealing his tremendously sharp teeth in the process.
“Mate, you have teeth the size of my fridge freezer; can you not understand that makes me feel a tad uncomfortable?” Ed stammered nervously.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. Take a look at your reflection, for goodness sake, what do you see?”
Ed bent his head to look at his reflected image, irritated by the ridiculous game.
“A tortoise! EHHHHMMM, a tortoise, a fucking tortoise! Christ, what sort of nasty joke is this? Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, bloody well wake up!”
The realisation was like an Exocet missile fired into his brain at top speed, in one ear and out the other. He felt it in his stomach as if a dance troupe was performing in his intestines. He stared at the reflection, stunned and disoriented.
“I was not the best looking fella at the best of times but this is simply ludicrous!” he reflected, wishing he could be reunited with his large bloodshot nose and balding head complete with fluffy wisp that gave an illusion of profusion as sustainable as the euro zone.
The fox sat quietly behind him, observing respectfully. “The first time is always the hardest.”
“The first time? How many times exactly can you become a tortoise?” Ed barked back from his reptilian beak-like mouth, as a flat-nosed, stripy badger wandered into the scene.
“Great, you’re taller than me as well. I suppose you’ve got something pertinent to add to all this?” he snapped at the furry animal.
The badger ignored him and emitted a strange, low-level growling noise before going around to sniff his behind. Ed could feel the breath of the animal as he tried to scurry around to dissuade him from the activity.
“Go on, have a good sniff. Is that all you want or what? Well?”
The badger silently moved over to the fox, who had turned round to assess the situation. They went nose to nose, doing a little Chinese nose rub before the badger turned tail and slid his stripy being off into the undergrowth.
“The badger doesn’t understand you. It can’t talk. I need to explain a lot of things to you right now. You need to listen very carefully.”
“Well how come you can talk and he can’t? What’s the deal there?”
“It’s not easy and there’s no easy way to tell you. Basically, you’ve died and been reincarnated into a young animal, in this instance, most unfortunately for a first-timer, a tortoise.”
“I’ve died? Are you completely crazy? How can I be talking if I’ve died? How can I have my consciousness and memories? How is it that I can still feel my arms and legs and still dream of bacon and eggs? How can I remember my car and physical appearance? There are so many other things. Besides, why do you keep saying, ‘first timer?”
A silence ensued but before the fox could reply, Ed continued.
“How can I not have been aware of dying? Surely that would have been something I might have noticed? How switched off from my environment would I need to have been to miss that?”
“You’ll never really remember dying, or that much of the journey afterwards, but you will remember moments leading up to it. Things will become much clearer, trust me.”
“What’s the point in things getting clearer if I’m a tortoise with the memories of a human? From what I remember, they don’t even have hands. Even with an iPhone, I wouldn’t be any better equipped to get any help.”
“Get help? Are you mad? There’s no help for you now, other than from yourself, and you’re already running out of time. Besides, even if you could ‘instant message’ someone to say you’d somehow accidentally been transformed into a tortoise and you were down by the river with a fox, how do you think they’d deal with that?”
“Well they’d come down and I’d speak to them just like I’m speaking to you now. How difficult can that be?”
“Mmmm, I forgot to m
ention, only other transients can hear us speak. It’s been absolutely ages since I last spoke to someone. Transients can hear one another, but any ‘non transient’ only hears normal animal noises, bleating, barking, squeaking etc. For a tortoise, I think they might find it hard to hear anything at all.”
“What do you mean, a transient? What on earth are you talking about? What’s a transient?” enquired Ed curiously.
“Well that’s what’s happened. You’ve been transitioned into the body of a tortoise.”
“Is that a term you’ve just made up or something?”
“I wouldn’t say that. It is common usage of the word, changeable, deciduous and emigrating in a fleeting and impermanent way.”
“Fleeting and impermanent? So I won’t stay like this forever then?” queried Ed.
“No, you won’t stay like it forever. There are some issues we have choice over.”
“What issues? What choice? This must be hell. A tortoise. Why a tortoise?” replied Ed with a growing feeling of angst.
“From what I understand, transience into an animal host seems to be arrived at randomly. It is not a reflection on your worth, dignity or morality. For you, it’s just bloody unlucky that you’ve ended up as a tortoise.”
“Great. I’d like to say I’ll take this on the chin and move on, but I don’t actually have one. Besides, how could you take ‘being turned into a tortoise’ on the chin anyway?”
“Erm, maybe not.”
“Presupposing I believe you for a while, how long do you think I might have been dead?”
“Hard to say for the first time. Maybe a year or eighteen months before you get reincarnated the first time. I have no idea why, maybe a backlog? Time does seem to flow more predictably from the second time onwards.”
Ed thought quietly for a moment, overwhelmed by the whole idea of being dead for over a year.
