When Travis was 15, he grew a tail.
It wasn’t a
cool tail, like a monkey's. It wasn’t extra-furry or shaggy like a dog’s. It
wasn’t short and stupid, like a pig’s and it wasn’t beautiful and functional
like a peacock’s. If anything, it was like a cat’s or some kind of feline. It
was about two feet long and covered with yellow fur, with a small tuft of red
fur at the end.
And it grew overnight. Travis went
to bed one night a normal teen and woke up a be-tailed freak.
A person’s natural reaction to
waking up to a mutated, Kafka-esque nightmare, would be to scream and freak
out, and Travis was no exception. Upon the discovery, in the mirror, of his
tail, he screamed for about 10 seconds before he passed out on the floor at the
foot of his bed.
Waking seven minutes later, Travis
felt recovered enough to take a shower and get dressed. He discovered that he
had sufficient control over his tail to wrap it around his leg a few times and
as long as his pants were baggy enough, he wouldn’t look like John Holmes on
steroids.
Walking proved to be a bit
difficult and sitting even more so. He had to spend a good fifteen minutes
walking in a circle around his room before he felt comfortable enough to go out
into the world. He wasn’t too sure what a day of sitting in the world’s most
uncomfortable desks would feel like, but he figured he’d learn soon enough.
At breakfast, his mother didn’t
notice his fidgeting as he downed his regular breakfast of a bacon, egg and pop
tart sandwich. She was too caught up in her own universe where the only things
that mattered were stocks, quotas, portfolios and some guy named Dow. Her eyes
were glued to the financial section of the paper and her ears were deaf to
anything but her own thoughts of trends, investments and money.
Likewise, on the bus, it didn’t
seem like anybody else noticed him shift from one cheek to the other as they
headed to school. At least, that’s what he thought, until he noticed Hana,
across the aisle, staring at him from the corner of her eye.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asked,
raising an eyebrow.
“What’re you talking about?” Travis
responded.
“It looks like you’ve got
hemorrhoids or something! Why do you keep moving like that?”
Travis knew Hana was one of the
biggest gossips in the school. Entire reputations had been built and destroyed
simply by one casually thrown-away statement into the right (or wrong) ear. If
he didn’t want to end up a social pariah, he would have to play this off
carefully. Throw her off the scent and lead her to think something else. The
best way to do that would be to tell her something slightly embarrassing, but
not as bad as the truth.
“Yeah, how’d you know? I usually
have one of those donut cushions, but I had to let my grandpa borrow it today,”
he said.
“Ewwww! You need to keep that info
to yourself!” she said, with obvious disgust before returning to her
conversation with a girl in the seat in front of her.
A few giggles and surreptitious
glances from Hana and her friend let Travis know that the rumor had been
spread. Luckily, she accepted the story, so his secret was safe. On the other
hand, all 1,400 students at Rocky
Mount High School
Travis found that as long as he
didn’t think too hard about the fact that he had a tail, he was able to get
through the day with a semblance of normality. He may have looked awkward while
sitting through the eight periods of the school day, but he didn’t attract too
much gawking.
When he got home after school, he
was able to concentrate on his homework, enjoy dinner and watch tv until it was
time for bed. He rarely thought about his new appendage.
The next morning, Travis discovered
that he didn’t even care that he had a tail. It was starting to feel natural, a
part of his body.
After a week, he felt like he’d
always had a tail, he couldn’t remember what it felt like to not have one.
After a month he even forgot he had
a tail.
That’s probably why he got careless
about hiding it, and how his brother, Mark, was able to discover Travis’
secret.
***
One Saturday morning, while Travis
was taking a shower, his younger brother decided to play a trick on him. He
snuck into the bathroom and stole Travis’ clothes with a loud, high-throated
guffaw. Travis opened the shower curtain and saw Mark running down the hallway
with an armful of clothing. In anger, Travis quickly grabbed a towel and
wrapped it around his waist and immediately gave chase.
Travis chased his brother all
around the upstairs hallway, through their parents’ master bedroom and
bathroom. Mark was small and was as impossible to get a good grasp on as those
eels who secrete slime and tie themselves into knots so you can’t catch them.
Gross.
The chase made its way downstairs
and into the living room. The whole time, Mark kept looking back at his older
brother and laughing in that maniacal way that only little kids can get away
with.
Suddenly, Mark looked back and
stopped dead in his tracks. Travis’ clothes falling from his arms, forgotten. His
eyes grew as wide as Betty Boop’s as he stared just behind Travis. He was
speechless. This left Travis confused, so he turned to look over his right shoulder
to see what shocked his brother so much. And that’s when he saw his tail, swaying
left and right in the slight house breeze, the red tuft bobbing to and fro,
like a lazy person batting at a pesky fly.
After a moment, Mark’s paralysis
broke and he screamed at the top of his lungs
“Mooooooom!!!! Daaaad!!!!” he yelled before turning and running at full speed
into the kitchen. Travis followed.
1 comment:
....and then??
Post a Comment