“Hurry! Make haste! The time has come!”
The transdolphins just laughed through the tension in the air and kept singing. Many had their eyes closed – smiles – all smiles.
A nun told me, “Haste makes waste.”
A cop told me, “Peace be with you. No need for a stampede.”
I was the only one sweating. What – did they think they were better than me because they were so calm and in control? I felt disrespected. I was insulted. They were mentally spiting in my face and saying they were holier than me. I wanted to shout out: I'm the Chosen One, you jerks! I'm the one that should be calm and in control of the situation! I should be the one with more faith and ease!
I went to the food table and drank much wine. People gossiped behind my back.
I stared at them and grimaced.
They were judging me.
I think.
LARS
The Sun pecked at my eyes.
I walked through the woods as the wind threw twigs and little forest animals at my face. It started raining frogs. I jumped over them. Someone explain it to me, please. Was I going insane? Zombies were normal, but raining frogs?
“Damn this freak weather!” I yelled to Mother Nature. “Are you drunk?”
I shook from the cold and held myself. Sometimes the wind would be so strong, I had to keep myself from being lifted off my feet. Each time it happened, my heart would jump into my throat, and my life would flame in front of my eyeballs. I had to find shelter before it started raining hamsters. How did I end up in that mess? Bad decisions. Bad ideas. All my fault. No one to blame. Time to get real. Accept reality. I had to get myself together. Get my life going again. Get busy; get happy. My mind was made up: When all this was over and done with, I'd pack up and get a real job and get my own apartment. I'd work as a stock boy, or maybe find an overnight job folding clothes. I'd be normal. I'd conform. Just give me peace. I promise to straighten up my act, Lord. Just let me live through this morning.
Somewhere in the woods, a woman was calling for help. I followed the screams. I'd help the woman! Yesssss. She'd have no choice but to let me stay over and sleep in her warm bed and feed me milk and cookies. Thank you, Lord, for humoring me! Thank you for this angel. Thank you for your mercy!
The wind came at me. I ducked a mongoose and crossed a raging stream. The screaming woman was up in a tree. It was that witch from before. The same one that scared us away from the cave. Zombies tried to reach up and get her. Curious. They seemed more pissed off than usual. That witch threw rocks at them.
“Go away! Leave me alone!” She saw me. “You, there! Help! They won't listen to me anymore!”
Stupid. All the zombies turned and snarled at me...slogged toward me. I made to run off. The woman reached out for me in desperation:
“No! Don't! Go!”
She slipped and fell down the tree. The zombies were on her. She crawled back and shrieked for help. My master impulse was to keep running. Lucky for her, I had somewhat of a soul. Remember that bed, I thought. You wanna be out here the whole night? You want us to freeze to death?! Is that it? Are you a bastard?
I got a rock and ran up to those zombies and bashed their skulls in. I ripped someone's arm off and shoved the pointy end into many eye sockets – jabbing brain matter. Still, too many zombies. I took the woman's hand, she picked up her damaged broom, and we skedaddled to her cabin in the woods as the desperate wind slapped us in the face with leaves, cold mud, fat water drops, and mongooses. Tip: We don't have squirrels in Hawaii.
She slammed the door behind us (bottles somewhere banged together) and shoved a chair under the knob. The place was a mess. Papers, books, plastic cups, skulls, and a variety of bones were scattered all over the floor. There was a fireplace, a rocking chair, a desk, a bookshelf of magic books, and a worktable covered in bubbling pots and glass instruments and other generic, mad scientist doodads and whatnots. The roof had holes in it. Water dripped everywhere. Many oil lamps in that cabin. The woman kicked away some rats. One of them sang and ran up her leg. She yelled and danced around the place, stepped on the rat, picked it up, and threw the beast into a pot on a shelf.
“Save that for later,” she said to me.
Something stank of dead beef, and I think I stepped on shit.
Inhuman living conditions! Someone call the Pope! Save me! I can't be here. I'm too good for this. I don't deserve to be stepping in shit anymore. Don't you get it? I saved her life. Is this my reward?
I felt primitive. There was no warm bed or milk or cookies. But there was a moose head above the fireplace. It was captured in a forever yell. I could read its mind: “Beware! Get away from this nasty place, my dear boy. Beat it! You wanna end up like me?”
The witch hugged me and started talking with a hint of a Russian accent.
“Thank you for saving me. Allow me to please you though food and conversation.”
The place was built on a slant. Following her toward the fireplace, I kept sliding to the right. I sat in front of the fire and warmed my hands. She had a pot going. She took off the lid and stirred while murmuring with a smile, “Mmm, yaaa, this is good, yaaaa.” Green stuff bubbled and dribbled onto the burning wood. Much sizzling. I started thinking of snakes. She poured the “food” into wooden bowls. I said my thanks and ate through the bad taste. Images of crying rats being chopped up and cooked popped into my mind's eye, but I didn't give a darn. I was too hungry. The feeling of warm food trickling down my tight belly was well worth it. She ate, too, smiling at me. Was she undressing me with those bug-eyes of hers?
“My name is Dora,” she said. “I'm a witch. In fact, the greatest witch on the island. What's your name?”
“Lars. I'm a zombie hunter. The greatest on Oahu.”
“I believe it!” she said. “I'm sorry about what happened way back when. I had to scare you guys away from that cave. Understand, Lars, I was just doing my job. If I didn't, a bolt of lightning would have struck me dead. Same thing happened to the lady before me. True story.”
I smiled back, and I started thinking, My lower lands are tingling. Could I make love to this ugly witch? This crone? How drunk would I have to be to put these trembling lips on that hideous face?
I swallowed a mouthful of slop that went down my throat in a slow crawl.
“What happened back there at that tree? Why did those zombies want to eat you out? I thought they were your children, yes?”
“NO!” she said, throwing her bowl of crap against a wall. A picture of Jesus fell and smashed to the floor. “They are not my children anymore. Goddammit.” She put her face in her hands and cried. “Not anymore – NOT ANYMORE!”
I had my hands over my ears. Surprising me, she took my bowl and smiled through her tears and said, “More food? Yes, of course you want more food. Look at you. You're nothing but bone and skins.”
I raised my finger and came close to correcting her English, but I stopped myself. Too risky. What if she got nuts on me? What then? Would my head be on that wall, too? And what of the rest of my body? Would she devour my meats? Turn my feet into shoes? Use my hands to wipe her ass after disgraceful shitting? Use my guts as jump ropes? Wear my stomach for a hat? Wouldn't a witch do these horrid, confusing things? Am I being racist?
Dora sat in the rocking chair and wrapped duct tape around her broken broom. She had things nibbling her mind.
“Everything's gone to shit. This is what I get for harassing the wrong hiker. I'm getting too old. My brain is sluggish. Getting bad at reading people. Getting bad at choosing my kills. I should've been more careful. I should've left that stupid Filipino alone.”
“I'm mildly offended by that.”
She rolled her eyes.
“We saw that fat hiker and went over to pay her a visit. I told my zombies to go ahead and eat her up. Next thing I knew, she was yelling in irate Filipino and shooting at us. Many brains were blown out. She was no hiker. She was a hunter, and I was the prey. I jumped on her and hit the gun away. The
bitch blinded me with pepper spray and called out to even more hunters. I flew out of there on my broom, to higher ground, to the top of the mountain. A hunter fired off a bazooka. I turned just in time as the missile hit the mountain. The blast sent me flying in a tailspin. I landed in a stream, heard a sound like thunder, looked up. Boulders rolled down the mountain and landed all over the woods and knocked over trees like bowling pins. The hunters – those idiots – were howling in pain and sorrow. I saw a lot of them carrying off their squashed dead. Ha! Good. But they'd be back to finish me off, for sure. As if things weren't bad enough, my diamond was busted.”
“Your diamond?”
“The one I had around my neck. I used it to control my children,” she said. “I've been running from them ever since. They were all over me. I couldn't believe it. They were trying to bite me. Me! Their mother! The scoundrels....”
The weather outside was criminal. The wind whistled though the holes in the ceiling. Dora kept talking, louder this time.
“I hated to do it, but I scratched a few eyes, yanked a few tongues out, and broke free from that weirdness. I jumped on my busted broom and flew away. One of the zombies got hold of me, and off I went spinning into a tree. I climbed up it...you found me...and here we are, all fine and dandy.”
A great wind shook the cabin and took the roof off. We were blown to the floor. I covered my eyes from the falling wood. Rain began to flood the place. Dora jumped up and shoved her finger at the racing clouds.
“No! You won't take me! I've been good, goddammit! I've been GOOD! I deserve happiness! I deserve to live! I will survive this tsunami!”
A black book hit me in the face and fell to my feet. A gold cross was on the cover. I screamed through the wind, my voice cracking.
“You mean it's all true? You mean it's really gonna happen?”
“It's the great flood all over again! The second deluge! The great cleansing! The great bath!”
Possibilities flooded my mind. I saw myself in many futures: Lars the successful sculptor. Lars the successful filmmaker. Lars the successful painter. Lars the successful flower arranger. Lars the successful zombie hunter. Lars the successful guitarist. Lars the successful pianist....
Lars the successful father.
Life possessed me.
“I'm not ready for this! There's still so much I want to do! I can't die!”
The Sun went black. It was like a shadow swallowed the whole world.
The Moon was up, bright and full.
BETH
“It is time to shed your skin,” I said to them.
Everyone took their clothes off. Kirsty asked if she could keep her scarf on for sentimental reasons. I said it was all right, and walked to the front doors and stood facing everyone.
“Here we are,” I said. “Do you feel that tug inside you? The ocean is calling. Our fellow dolphins are going to protect us from the tsunami. It's a topsy-turvy world out there. Everyone, get your umbrellas ready.”
500 transdolphins pulled out their yellow umbrellas and opened them. Most of my people looked confident and ready. Some looked scared.
Should I sit them down for a little chat? Would they be useful to me in the new world? In my new world? Would they even be deserving to live with us? I dismissed those negative thoughts. No time. Now or never....
I opened the doors. A wall of wind slammed us. Plastic bags and twigs and math books and wedding rings and other garbage filled the church. I yelled:
“Run!”
We unleashed a battle cry and bolted out of there. Lightning struck the cars and trees around us. Transdolphins stopped and got on their knees and prayed. I pulled them up and kicked them in the ass. (I should maybe change that to 'on' the ass. 'In' the ass sounds too sexual.) We reached the freeway and ran out those woods like mad deer. The automobiles stopped to look at us, honking and pointing and yelling. What a strange sight for them, indeed: A gang of dolphins with arms and legs, running over their cars, crushing in rooftops and hoods. An armored car lost control and crashed into a tree. The driver stumbled out with his face all shredded and bloodied up. People jumped out from their vehicles and ran to the armored car and started shaking it, beating on it, trying to get to the goodies inside. They felt deserving of the loot.
We made it to the beach.
Everyone stood back and looked up in fear.
The ocean was rising up – higher and higher as it licked the clouds. A wall of liquid chaos. Ships fell. People swam through the air.
“Everyone! Dive in! Hurry!”
We ran and dodged the falling swimmers and jumped into the vertical ocean. Our dolphin relatives (primitives) were waiting inside. They guided us down into a cave filled with other dolphin brothers and sisters. To seal the cave, we all started to roll a large, circular stone over the entrance. Then the great suck happened, and Kirsty was pulled out. I let go of the stone and reached out for her. Kirsty vanished into the dark.
Forget her! the voice in my head begged. Seal the cave!
After much pushing and grunting, the stone rolled over and locked into place. Transdolphins and normal dolphins danced around and congratulated themselves on a job well done. Light came from a giant light bulb. A dolphin told me via telepathy, “Our friend and teacher – Oannes – gave it to us.”
We listened as heavy things knocked against the seal. Cracks began to appear. Bubbles leaked through.
Was Kirsty still out there?
Begging to be let in?
ENOCH
We howled and changed shape – our discarded, human skin sat at our feet in piles. We stood in front of Boss Moshi, and it was always a mean sight to see the boss transformed. He was like a giant, mad wolf, marching about on his hind legs. He watched the news. Dorfy was on the streets and holding an umbrella, trying her best not to be blown away, yelling through the storm.
“Madness!” she said. “Everyone stay home! The weather is too crazy! I saw a cow fly by a second ago! If you have family at home, I highly suggest you get to them! I'm not saying they're dead, but judging from this hurricane, I wouldn't be surprised if they're trapped under a collapsed rooftop! They might be crying for you to come home – come home!”
The werewolves around me started to panic, saying things like, “My kids!” and “I have to get home to my wife!” and “My parents need me!”
They got on their cellphones and called home, comforting their loved ones.
Dorfy started yelling some more.
“Someone help! Come get me before I get blown away!”
A cow flew through the air and hit her, and the camera went to static. Boss Moshi nodded and growled.
“People are all scared and locked up in their homes. No cops are out there. What a miracle! The playground is open for business, boys and girls. I want you goons to go out there and break into those stores and bring me back some goodies.”
A werewolf I didn't know jumped forward and got on his knees.
“Please let me go home, oh glorious, forgiving, awesome Boss Moshi. I have to be with my family.”
Boss Moshi got out his whip and lashed him.
“No! You will get me gold and silver and monies! Do as I say! I demand that you go out there! Right this instant!”
That werewolf grabbed Boss Moshi's whip and stepped forward. We all gasped and reached out to him. I couldn't believe his moxie.
“Get back in line,” I snapped.
It was too late. That werewolf (whoever he was) had words for the boss.
“I've had enough of you! I'm going home, and there's nothing you can do about it.”
Boss Moshi snarled and jumped on the poor werewolf and bit into his head, taking the top off, showing brain. He kicked the dancing corpse away and spat the mess all over us as a warning.
“Any more questions?” the boss said, squinting at us.
We all shook our heads.
The boss grinned and showed his slimy teeth.
“Splendid. Now go get me some treasure. And don't com
e back until you do, or else!”
We all spilled out the front door and ran outside and forced our way through the tons of wind and rain and airborne trash.
“Screw this!” said a fellow werewolf. “You guys do what you want. I'm going home to my lady.”
The others agreed and ran off in separate directions. A female wolf next to me cursed out the gangsters and shot her gun at them. “You pansies! Wait until the boss gets you!”
She gripped my shoulder. “We're the only loyal ones left. Let's make the boss proud.”
I gave her a blank stare...and ran off to Mom.
On my way over there, I stopped some kid on a bike and kicked him off and stuffed a hundred bucks down his shirt. He ran off screaming, “Werewolf! Werewolf!”
The ride home was dangerous. The roads were littered with violence. Vehicles crashed into each other. Drivers fist-fought. Women cried. Men complained. Kids were blown away by evil winds. (One little girl pointed at me and laughed, “Big doggy!”) When I made it home, I jumped off the bike and gave it to a kid that smiled and rode off. The neighborhood was busy with families running out of their homes with suitcases and umbrellas and pets. Everyone jumped in their cars and trucks and zoomed off. Some vehicles lost control and crashed into houses. A family on foot crossed the street. A truck almost hit them and swerved and crashed into a van. They exploded, and everyone fell back from the yellow roar. I helped a girl to her feet. She said her thanks and took off. No one cared that there was a werewolf with them. They just wanted to leave.
I pushed through the people and ran to my place.
Three empty cars had slammed into the front of the house long before I arrived. I climbed over the crash. Mom was in the kitchen and trapped under what was left of the roof. She reached out for me.
“Son! My son!”
Even though I was transformed, she still knew it was me. I took hold of a huge piece of wood and screamed and pulled it off her. Something in my back cracked, but I ignored it. I held my mom, tried to pick her up.
“You have to stand up. Let's go!”
She screamed.
“My legs! I can't take it! Stop touching me!”