Fluffy’s Revolution

by Ted Myers

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then… “Holy shit, Laura! How long have you been sitting on this?” said Art.

  “It came in day before yesterday when I was screening all the incoming emails to CNS. I could have shown it to my bosses, but I suspect that Epps has them in his pocket and it would never be aired.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Art. “But what do we do with it now?”

  “I know exactly what to do with it,” said Hacker. “We put it up on Z-Tube, Chatify, Spacebook―all of em! This’ll go viral worldwide in about ten minutes.”

  “But what if the D.I.S. traces it back to us?” asked Laura.

  “I can post it anonymously. It’ll go through five remote servers on three continents. Nobody will be able to figure out who posted it. And then the news services will have to carry it―because it will cause such a stir they won’t be able to ignore it. And I’ve got another idea: make a video of me speaking, as an introduction. We can edit that onto the front of Janet’s. I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to the world.”

  Laura positioned her handheld to shoot Hacker on the kitchen counter against a plain white wall―no way to identify his whereabouts. “Okay, Hacker, ready, and―action!”

  “This is Hacker. As you can hear, I’m a GAB animal with a voice. Soon all GABs will have a device like this one to let their voices be heard by everyone. Janet Epps was a friend of mine, a friend to all animals. She was killed by police under the command of her own father, Jeremiah Epps. Epps has been conducting a systematic campaign to exterminate us. He wants you to believe we are a threat to mankind. That’s a lie. We want to help make the world a better place. We don’t want to hurt anybody. What you are about to see is a video Janet shot in her last few minutes of life. It speaks for itself. All imprisoned GAB animals must be freed now. We demand equal rights to humans, nothing more, nothing less. Hacker out.”

  “Cut,” said Laura.

  “Now, lemme have your handheld,” said Hacker. “I’ll just edit this onto the front of Janet’s, and we’re good to go. Janet, the last laugh will be yours… Oh my god, the bar!”

  “Shit,” said Art, “my paintings are hanging in Scully’s. I’ve gotta warn him!” Art started to dial Scully.

  “Now, hold on,” said Hacker. “What if they’re already monitoring Scully?”

  “You’re right. They probably are. That’s where that D.I.S. guy overheard our conversation.”

  “Take me over there,” said Hacker. “Mitzi, you stay here with Laura. We’ll be back soon.” Then to Art. “Take a pencil and a small pad of paper.”

  Art put Hacker, the pad, and pencil in his pockets and walked toward Scully’s.

  “What’re we gonna do?” asked Art.

  “Will he even be open?” asked Hacker.

  “Yeah. He opens at eleven a.m. Should just be opening now.”

  “Good, the place will probably be empty…”

  When Art entered Scully’s, he put his finger to his lips, telling Scully to keep silent. As they hoped, there were no customers. Art took out the pad and wrote:

  YOUR PLACE IS PROBABLY BUGGED. THE PROFESSOR’S IN TROUBLE. HE WAS FOLLOWED HOME FROM HERE. TAKE ALL MY PAINTINGS DOWN AND BURN THEM. GET RID OF MY BUSINESS CARD AND ANYTHING YOU HAVE CONNECTING YOU TO ME, INCLUDING THIS NOTE. IF ANYBODY ASKS YOU ABOUT ME, YOU KNOW NOTHING, OKAY?

  Scully nodded, clearly unnerved. Art wrote: NICE KNOWIN’ YA and calmly walked out of there.

  On the walk back, Art asked Hacker: “Is there any way you can find out if they have my handheld tapped?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” said Hacker.

  When they got back to Art’s place, Hacker asked Art for his handheld. He dialed a number. After three rings, he heard a series of beeps. “You’re clean,” said Hacker.

  Chief Davis looked solemn. More than solemn; anguished. “Mr. Epps, I have some very painful news to tell you.”

  “What is it?” said Epps.

  “The forensic reports have come in from the warehouse explosion on Cumpston Street.”

  “So?”

  “One of the bodies was that of your daughter, Janet Epps. I wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news.”

  Epps sat silent for a long moment. His eyes teared up. His jaw clenched tight. His lip quivered. “Make sure it does NOT get on the news, Mr. Davis.”

  Davis looked at the floor. “Yes, sir.”

  “You can go now, Mr. Davis. Thank you.”

  Davis left Epps’s office, closing the door behind him. Epps slumped forward onto the desk, burying his face in his arms, and wept.

  Chapter Eight – Into the Woods

  The Catskills were an old, worn-down mountain range. Not high and pointy like the Rockies or the Himalayas, but rolling, rounded hills, humbled by time and glaciers. Long ago, these mountains used to be a vacation destination for city dwellers looking to escape the summer heat. There were sprawling hotels, bungalow colonies, and busy towns. But now the world was cooling, and those with means could take themselves to the Rockies or the Swiss Alps, or anywhere on Earth for that matter in an hour or so. And those without means had no jobs from which to take vacations. So, the Catskills had been surrendered back into the arms of nature and were once again magnificent.

  Fluffy walked and walked. She followed the road called Route 28 but walked alongside the road, about twenty-five feet into the woods, using her “stealth walk,” crouching below the tall weeds, while moving her little feet fast and silent.

  Although hundreds of years old, Route 28 was still a two-lane winding mountain road, which grew gradually steeper as Fluffy walked on. She walked on the left side of the road with the oncoming traffic headed towards her. Occasionally a car would go whooshing by, kicking up a blast of wind and dry leaves in its wake. The almost-full moon made the night very bright and Fluffy saw many creatures darting to and fro in the woods off to her left. She saw raccoons, possums, and squirrels. She heard the hoot of an owl and remembered that Hacker had told her they hunted by night and were capable of swooping down and carrying off even a cat of her size. But she passed unmolested. A seductive profusion of smells emanated from the woods, beckoning Fluffy to come in but she resisted her curiosity and erred on the side of caution. After walking for several hours, she was very hungry and tired.

  She came at last to a roadside rest stop for motorists. There were restrooms and wooden picnic tables, a water fountain, and places for six vehicles to park. Under and around the tables, Fluffy found some scraps of food, which she devoured, not caring how repulsive they were. She leaped into the water fountain and pressed the metal button with her mind, causing it to come to life. She was very thirsty. Drinking the running water reminded her of being at home, where she would jump into the sink and her dad would run the water for her to drink. Thinking of this made her sad. Sad and tired; not just physically, but tired of being afraid. She decided to rest under one of the tables.

  After maybe thirty minutes, a car pulled in and parked. It was a very old car with only ground capabilities. A mother and two young children got out and entered the restrooms. The mother and little girl went into the women’s and the little boy, who was older, maybe eight, entered the men’s. Fluffy guessed from their shabby appearance that they were rips that had gotten out of one of the ripcoms. She decided to try something risky. When they came out, she was sitting in the middle of the empty parking lot, mewing pathetically.

  “Look, Mommy, a kitty!” cried the little girl. She was about five.

  “Hey, it’s wearing a collar,” said the boy. He ran over and reached for Fluffy’s voice disc. “It’s a Miniblaster! I want one of these!”

  “Don’t t
ouch that… please,” said Fluffy.

  The boy jumped back as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. “It spoke!”

  “Are you GAB?” asked the mother.

  “Yes. My name is Fluffy. What’s yours?”

  “My name’s Tommy,” volunteered the boy. “Are you a terrorist?”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Fluffy. “GABs are not terrorists. Some bad people spread that rumor so everyone would hate us.”

  “But how can you speak without a computer?” asked the woman.

  “This thing that looks like a Miniblaster, it’s a new invention that enables me to speak out loud.”

  “Are you lost?”

  “Not exactly. I’m trying to get to West Kill Falls. Are you going there?”

  “Not all the way, but we can give you a ride part way,” said the woman.

  “Thank you,” said Fluffy.

  The woman opened the back door, and Fluffy hopped in. “I wanna sit in back with Fluffy!” said the boy.

  “No, I wanna sit in back!” cried the girl.

  The woman, an average-looking white woman around thirty-five with too many lines on her face and a cut on her lip, sighed. “Okay, you can both sit in the back with Fluffy.” The kids piled in and sat on either side of Fluffy and petted her incessantly. The woman started the car, and they were on their way. Fluffy put up with all the pawing, happy to be getting a lift.

  “Why are you going to West Kill Falls?” asked the boy.

  “I can’t tell you that. All I can say is, there are people who want to hurt me, and I’m trying to find a place where I’ll be safe.” Fluffy had never learned how to lie.

  “We’re trying to be safe too,” said the little girl. “Daddy socked Momma in the mouth.”

  “So we’re running away to Grandma’s,” said the boy.

  “Children!” cried the mother. “I told you never to speak of this to anyone.”

  “Now you have my secret and I have yours,” said Fluffy. “Let’s never give our secrets away, okay?”

  “Okay,” said the kids together.

  After about a half-hour the woman stopped the car. There was an old mailbox that marked a dirt road, heading off to the right. “This is where we turn off,” said the woman.

  “This is the road to Grandma’s house,” said Tommy.

  “Would you like to come with us, Fluffy? I’ll bet you’re hungry,” said the woman.

  “Well, yes, I am rather hungry,” said Fluffy.

  “Please come,” said the little girl.

  “Yeah, we can play games,” said Tommy.

  “Well…okay,” said Fluffy. “But I have to leave first thing tomorrow.”

  “Yay!” cheered the kids.

  Grandma’s house was an ancient wooden cottage deep in the woods, with the paint peeling off, about a mile off the main road. When she heard the car pull up, Grandma came out to greet her family. Fluffy heard a big dog barking from the back of the house.

  Grandma was a gray-haired old lady who looked at least seventy, although, looking at her daughter, Fluffy guessed she was probably quite a bit younger. She wore glasses (a rarity), a faded floral print dress, and antiquated black old lady shoes. She hugged her grandchildren, then her daughter. Then she regarded Fluffy.

  “And who have we got here?” she said.

  “This is Fluffy,” said Tommy.

  “She’s GAB,” said the woman significantly.

  “Oh, GAB. So you can understand everything we say?”

  “Oh yes,” said Fluffy.

  Grandma was startled. “How did you do that?”

  “It’s a new invention,” said Tommy. “That thing around her neck.”

  “We picked up Fluffy hitchhiking, you might say,” said the woman. “She’s very hungry.”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” said Grandma. “Come right this way, Fluffy. We’ll get you something yummy to eat.” As they all entered the house, the woman whispered something in her mother’s ear. Grandma led Fluffy to the kitchen, which was in the back of the house. Just outside the kitchen door was the backyard where the big dog was barking furiously and scratching at the door to get in.

  “You’re not going to let him in here, are you?” said Fluffy.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Grandma. “That’s just Brutus. His bark is worse than his

  bite.”

  “Just the same…”

  “Don’t worry, Fluffy, we won’t let him in.”

  She opened a can of some very smelly meat. Fluffy guessed that it was some kind of dog food. Grandma spooned out a generous portion into a bowl and bustled about the kitchen a bit more before putting it and a bowl of water on the floor for Fluffy. Fluffy didn’t like the smell of it, but she was hungry enough to eat a horse―and she suspected that was exactly what she was doing.

  The family left Fluffy alone in the kitchen while she ate, and Grandma showed them to their rooms upstairs. After she finished eating, a great wave of tiredness came over her. Her vision got blurry, then everything went black.

  When Fluffy regained consciousness, it was daytime. At first, she had no idea where she was, then the previous night started to come back to her. As her eyes began to focus, she realized she was in a wire cage, the kind in which people keep large snakes or hamsters. Fluffy could smell several different previous animal occupants. A terrible jolt of fear passed through her. The cage appeared to be in a spare room downstairs. There were a small cot and some boxes and old clothes. It smelled musty and stale. Why had these people imprisoned her? What were they planning to do? She didn’t have to wait long to find out. At length, Grandma entered. “Sorry, Fluffy, but you know, there’s a hefty reward for runaway GABs. We’re not rich people,” she said, “so we gotta do what we gotta do. My daughter will be driving you back to the city after breakfast.”

  “No, please!” cried Fluffy. But Grandma had already left the room. There was a big padlock on the cage. Fluffy tried to pick it telekinetically, but she had no experience in this area, and it was futile. She knew if she didn’t get out of here now she was doomed. Then Tommy, the little boy, entered the room softly, quietly.

  “I’m not supposed to be in here,” he whispered. “I have the key to that lock.”

  “Are you going to set me free, Tommy?”

  “On one condition: I want that Miniblaster.”

  “Okay,” said Fluffy.

  Tommy unlocked the cage door. In a split second, Fluffy plunged through it, nearly knocking Tommy over, streaked across the room, and leaped out the half-open window.

  “Sorry, Tommy, I need this,” she called as she disappeared into the woods. Then, under her breath, “Dad was right; humans are scum.” Fluffy found her way back to the dirt road that led to Route 28. She was sure that, in a few minutes, she would hear the barking of that awful dog and know they were on her trail. Then it occurred to her that they might come after her in the car. She followed the road but ran alongside it a few feet into the woods. Fortunately, Tommy had not confessed to setting her free for at least ten minutes. That gave her the head start she needed to make it to the main road, turn north, and keep running.

  She had to run on the right side of the road now because on the left side was a precipitous drop. She stayed in the tall grass beside the road. Soon she heard the clunky sound of the old car coming up behind her. Without looking, she knew it was them. She crouched down in the grass and froze, praying they would pass her by. They went by slowly, then stopped a few yards ahead. Then the back door opened and out came Brutus. He sniffed the air, picked up her scent and, barking enthusiastic
ally, took off running, straight for Fluffy. Fluffy gasped and ran into the woods. She ran for all she was worth. Brutus stayed right behind her, and by his barking, she could tell he was getting closer. She began to give up hope. She was getting very tired, and this dog would surely kill her when he caught her. Then an idea came to her. A very dangerous idea, but the only one she could think of.

  She reached a hollow log and, instead of jumping over it, she jumped up on it and wheeled around to face Brutus. She sat majestically, doing her damnedest to quell the fear that raged inside her. The dog came charging out of the brush, and when he was only five feet away, she said in her most commanding Katharine Hepburn voice, “Stop, Brutus!” And Brutus stopped and cocked his head, looking at her with an uncertain whine. “Sit, Brutus!” Brutus sat. “Now, lie down!” Brutus lay down. “Now, stay. Stay, Brutus. Stay!” Calmly, Fluffy turned her back on the dog, and casually trotted off into the woods. After a minute, she looked back. Brutus was still obediently prone. As soon as she was out of his sight, she took off at top speed and didn’t look back. Up ahead she could hear the sound of a babbling brook. She decided to find it and follow it up the mountain. Maybe this was the stream that led to West Kill Falls.

  When she reached it, she realized she was very thirsty and decided to take a drink. It was the sweetest, coolest, freshest water she had ever tasted; so different from the stuff that came out of taps in the city. Her senses were inundated with the sounds and smells of the forest. This is the way it should be, she thought. And then she remembered her dream―the one with the wolf. She looked around nervously for a moment, but no sign of predators. Humans have really messed up this world. She began the walk upstream. She followed a trail alongside the stream that had been blazed by generations of animals coming here to drink. She walked for many hours, constantly coming across new and exciting smells and sights. She saw some deer and even a bear. She wondered what it would be like to give in to her natural instincts: to hunt, to stalk and kill and eat something, a bird or even a… but no. After getting to know Hacker and Mitzi, the idea of killing and eating a mouse had become unthinkable to her. So, this was the blessing―and the curse―of human thought: The loss of one’s natural instincts, the acquisition of empathy, and paradoxically, the loss of innocence.