We filled our bellies with fish meat and ocean water, then journeyed to the ark.
ENOCH
When the toilets exploded, covering the floors (and our clothes) with wet stink, Boss Moshi decided it was time to go outside. We unlocked the gold windows. Sunlight blinded us. Hawaii was turned inside out. The few houses that still stood were covered in sand or trees or boulders or automobiles. One house was up to its roof in seaweed. The neighborhood was sprinkled with dead humans and dogs and cats. We ate the bloated bodies. It was like biting into a water balloon. Many of us vomited. We forced ourselves to swallow. It had to be done. We took off the dead's clothing and wore them. I gave my mom a nice, yellow dress. Boss Moshi didn't seem to have any problem eating those swollen corpses. He ate like a king, smiling the whole time.
After an hour, thanks to the boss, there were no worthwhile bodies left to eat. (I say “worthwhile” because a lot of us were finding centipedes living in many of the cadavers.) The boss got angry and threw skulls and bones at us, demanding food. After much ducking, I saw, down the road, a delivery truck covered with the rainbow-colored words CANDY HEAVEN.
“Look!” I said, pointing. “Candy!”
We ran to it and opened the back doors. The truck was full of lollipops. We hauled the candy in a wooden cart, passing out sweets to anyone hungry. Boss Moshi kicked over the cart and sent everything flying through the air.
“Enough candy! I've had it with cherry-flavored lollipops. It's like I'm eating cough medicine.” He spat out the candy. “Zeus's beard...I'm starving. I'd give anything to fill my belly with fine fish and maybe a man.”
Looking in a car, I found a dead pig with no limbs and gave it to him.
“Brilliant!” he said. “Thank you, boy, for this meal.” He took a bite out of the pig and vomited. “Rotten! You putz! You dare feed me rotten meat?!”
He kicked me, and I flew into a car's windshield. It didn't hurt, but I was embarrassed. I massaged my head and smiled a little.
“Sorry, boss. Just trying to get on your good side.”
“Then get me something worthy of my mouth.” He looked at everyone and waved his arms around. “I demand sushi! Go to the beach and get me sushi!”
Mom was in someone's house, sitting on the couch. A tree had smashed the roof in, and birds flew all over the place. Mom stared at a dead TV and sucked on a lollipop.
“Blasted thing doesn't work,” she said.
“Nothing works now.”
“I need to know the news.”
“I can tell you the news. Headline! Aina Haina is dead! Nothing works!”
“Except for my stomach. I'm so hungry right now.”
“I'll go get you some food,” I said. “I'll take care of you.” I took her hand and kissed it.
Some of us went down to Niu beach. We found a dead shark covered by so much sand. We dug it out and someone sliced its belly open with a knife. Fish fell out. We all cheered and filled our cart with the smelly things – that shark, too.
We brought back enough to feed everyone. Boss Moshi was dumping fish down his throat. It was a merry banquet. Everyone sang songs and danced around. Some played Duck-Duck-Goose. Others pushed friends around in shopping carts. Boss Moshi stood up and got everyone's attention.
“Look at me! Look what I found!”
He dug through the shark and pulled out a license plate and what looked to me like a spiral horn. He showed them to everyone.
“See!” he said. “See what happens when we pollute our waters? Bah!”
He tossed the garbage over his shoulder and shoved his mouth into the shark, munching away with crazy, wide eyes that stared out into space. When he was done consuming, he ordered everyone to clean out a house for him to sleep in.
“I need time to meditate,” he said. “I need time to think about my life. I must not be disturbed.”
Mom pulled me aside and whispered:
“Where are his kids?”
Before I could ask the boss about this, he walked into his house and slammed the door shut.
A sign on it read: Do not disturb! Thinking.
As the gangsters walked away from the house, I could hear them sing his praise.
“He's so smart and strong. We're so lucky to have him as our boss,” said Ralph Opanlermer. “Did you know he graduated at the top of his cooking class?”
“He's done so much for us. I trust him completely. You know, he once pulled me out of a burning vanilla factory,” said Trina Farotia.
“He saved me from the Hawaii mountain police,” said Tivian Wrangle-Thorn.
“He gave me mouth-to-mouth for two hours,” said Sharoona Keet. “I owe him my life.”
“The boss punched my abusive boyfriend,” said Jinna Manonman.
“The boss punched my abusive girlfriend,” said Reginald Hallwar.
“Boss Moshi has done so much for us,” said Clamentay Esporto. “He's a hero to the werewolf community!”
Mom shook her head.
“I don't know him as well as those hypnotized cows,” she said. “But from what I can gather...he's an asshole. Follow that? Never.”
I shuddered.
I hope the boss didn't hear her say that.
BETH
A lot of the transdolphins were outside the ark, clearing away the trash in the area. The rest of us were inside, shoveling all that mud out. To help us see, someone had the bright idea of using mirrors to reflect the Sun's light. Everyone dug while singing a slow, depressing, slave-sounding song: “Ohhh, been diggin' all day. Life is confusin'. If you wanted me to live how you want, why did you give me free will to make my own choices? Sorry to ask questions. Don't kill me!”
I didn't sing along. I was focused. I was too determined to clean the place up. I was standing on a spot I guessed was the pool.
“Too much mud!”
Frustrated, I raised my shovel high, screamed, and slammed it down hard as I could. Nothing. I kept digging. I spent hours there, just digging and digging nonstop while the others slept. It was quite the workout....
That night, when we got back to base camp, a female transdolphin ran up to me.
“Monster! There's a monster at the beach!”
We all ran to see this so-called monster. I made my way through the crowd, and there, standing at the lip of the ocean, I saw a man with the head of a fish. He didn't seem afraid, even with the bigger transdolphins ready to throw large rocks at the first sign of trouble. I raised my hand in peace.
“Who are you?”
The fishman raised his staff.
“My name is Oannes,” he said. “I come in harmony. And thank you for not throwing rocks at me.”
I walked to the big transdolphins.
“Put your stones down. He means us no harm, I think.”
I smiled at the fellow. Having the head of a fish – those wide eyes and gaping mouth – I was always under the impression he was trying to scare me. But it was not the case. He was a very nice creature of around age 60, and he stood with a straight back – proud and sure of himself. Very muscular, too. Hoping everyone was watching, I shook his hand. Better to make friends with a weirdo than its enemy.
“Oannes,” I said. “What do you want? Are you hungry?”
“No thanks. I ate fish before I came,” he said. “I am from the ocean, obviously. But maybe not so obvious, I have come here to help you on this new island. Look at this place. It's a mess. Fear not, new friends, for I will teach you how to make fire, electricity, and other wonderful things, like fences and high-quality wigs.”
This resulted in much joy from the crowd. A transdolphin male ran to Oannes and kissed the fishman's hand.
“Oh! Thank you for helping us! We are forever in your debt. We are in great need of your mental gifts. Is there anything at all we can give you? Anything at all to repay you for your awesome fishman intelligence?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” he said.
I smiled. “Then tell us, strange one. Indeed, what shall we do f
or you?”
Create a history of my teachings,” he said. “Let my education also teach those far in the future. And be sure to mention me by name. Don't be vague! I'm tired of being forgotten. Can you imagine how that feels? It hurts. And one more thing....”
Oannes took his staff and drew an image in the sand.
“Make a grand statue in my image. Gold, preferably. Let it inspire you on those depressing days we all get sometimes. Put my name on it, and be sure to use papyrus font, for it is the most respected font in the world.” He searched through his bag and pulled out a light bulb – the size of my head – and attached it to his staff, standing it up on the sand. He put his hand in the water and pulled out a fish, giving it to me.
“Hold it out so all can see,” he said.
I stepped back and put the fish on a plate and held it high above my head. People began whispering. Something important was about to happen. Oannes moved his hands over the bulb like a fortuneteller would. It lit up with blue electricity that flew out, zigzagging all over the place. Everyone screamed and ran around in ignorance.
“Stop it!” Oannes demanded. “Peace be with you. I bring you not fear. I bring you jubilation. Behold! The power of Tesla's bulb!”
Oannes put his hand on top the bulb, and he pointed at my plate of fish. Lightning shot out from his fingers and cooked my fish. We all cheered.
“Oh, happy day!”
I examined the bulb.
“Amazing! Utilizing the earth's natural energy. Nikola Tesla truly was a genius.”
After our bellies were filled with glorious fish meat, Oannes and his fish people helped us clean the city. They came out of the ocean with a variety of tools and yellow construction vehicles. A fishwoman drove a forklift out from the ocean and pushed away dead humans. Oannes took a female human's corpse – which was rotting so bad, its jaw fell off – and started talking to it, in a pleading sort of way.
“What was that?” Oannes said, shaking the corpse. “I did try to help you. This isn't my fault! Do you understand? Can you hear me?”
He shook her again and again, so hard that her head and arms and legs fell off. Oannes fell to the mud, weeping with the head in his hands. The fish people helped him up.
“It's just a dead body, boss,” said one of them. “It can't understand you anymore.”
A fishman dressed like a doctor appeared and checked Oannes's pulse.
“Hearing voices again?” the doctor smiled.
Oannes shook his head, embarrassed.
“I thought she was laughing at me, doc. Sometimes, all I hear is laughter. The bad kind.”
“You always say that.”
The doctor reached into his coat and gave him a bottle of pills.
“Take three of these, and call me in the morning.”
Oannes waved him away. “Yes, yes. I know.”
Much of my time was spent shoveling mud off the streets. Taking a break, I looked around at the other transdolphins all wearing yellow construction hats. Some cleaned store windows while others took the challenge of fixing up roofs. Constant noise of hammers and machinery and transdolphins throwing commands at each other. I nodded in approval. This was good. Waikiki was looking better. I was doing it. Actually doing it. Oannes and his fish friends stood under a tree as they looked over blueprints, nodding and pointing at the buildings around them. They came to some kind of agreement, and one of them spoke into a radio. A big dump truck pulled up carrying two gigantic light bulbs.
They planted them into the ground. Oannes stood behind a control panel and turned on the bulbs. They made banging sounds and were filled with lightning that buzzed forth and went into the nearby buildings. Every single room came to life – television sets turned on, as well as radios, stoves, microwaves, even washing machines. I ran into an electronic store and picked up a radio. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart played. I turned the station to hear the news. Everyone gathered around me and listened. There was much static, but I could still make some of it out.
“Help!” a woman's voice said. “Everything's on fire...people all around...monsters...if you're hearing...run and hide...them find you...monsters...blood in my mouth.”
I turned to a (hopefully) more positive station. This time, a man's voice – a British fellow.
“No!” he screamed. “Oh, Jesus, they're back! Janet! Run!” A second later. “Get back, you bastard! I'll blow your head off! What do you want from us?!”
Gunshots. A horse complaining. Then white noise.
A transdolphin at the back of the store called out.
“Guys, come look! The television sets!”
They were all going nuts – just a bunch of flickering, random colors. Except for one. That TV was getting a poor reception of something nasty. I hit it, and a better picture come on. A man was running around with a camera. A whole city was smoking. People on fire ran by him with their faces melting off.
“Help us,” the cameraman begged. “Someone, help us! What's happening? Why is this happening to us?”
I heard a demonic, animal sound. The cameraman turned around. The large figure hit him and sent the TV into that fuzzy black and white mess. We looked at each other. All too unusual. I walked outside and got some air. A transdolphin stood next to me.
“Lucky we live in Hawaii,” he said, drinking a can of soda.
I nodded.
“Yup.”
A couple of transdolphins – Tino and Jackson – ran up to me. They carried a big, black safe. It was open, and money flew out.
“Look what we found at the bank!” they smiled. “We're all rich!”
They began fighting over the money. “My money! I found it first! My money!”
I kicked and punched some sense into them.
“Peace be with you,” I said. “How much is in there?”
“Around $244,000.”
I climbed onto the top of an upside down car.
“Excellent. Split it up. Give everyone an equal amount, and put the leftovers back in the bank which we shall rename First Transdolphin Bank – or FTB. Give out loans. Let's get the economy started again. Spread the word: Start businesses. Provided services. Put your soul to use. It is the transdolphin way.”
The transdolphin from earlier who was dressed like a banker strolled up to me.
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nigel, and I wish to be in charge of FTB. I was a financier in my human form.”
I nodded.
“Sounds good to me.” I raised my hands. “Let the new economy begin!
Everyone threw their wigs into the air.
“Yayyyyy!”
I jumped off the car and turned to Dreslen, my head of security.
“Follow Tino and Jackson. Keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't run off with my money.”
Felt Like One Year Later
ENOCH
Mom and I were living in a house filled with cockroaches and the ever present stink of open mouths. It was better than being out in the open. Our little neighborhood of werewolves was dying out. We started out at around twenty. Now there were ten of us. Each night, I'd wake up to someone screaming outside that a werewolf down the street was found dead – eaten. Word spread that there was a monster hunting us. Mom would be terrified whenever I had to go out and get us fish. The boss, he didn't ask for fish anymore. Said he had grown a vegetable garden out back – that he was a vegetarian. One night, on a full moon, Mom made up her mind after we transformed in the bathroom together. She wanted to move. She wanted to live in the woods.
“I can't stay here with that monster running around. I have to get out! Maybe we could build a cabin,” she said. “Can't be that hard.”
“I'm not living in the woods like some animal. I like it here. Do you know how long it took me to rebuild this house? It feels like a year. I did it for you, Mom.”
“Then stay and let that monster eat you out. I'm leaving. Goodbye.”
She started going for the door. I grabbed her arm and held her.
&n
bsp; “You can't go out there on your own, Mom. It's suicide!”
“Then come with me. We'll die if we stay here,” she said. “Let's go to the beach and get as much fish as we can, then run for the hills.”
Mom walked out the door, right into Boss Moshi's hairy chest.
“Slow down, little lady,” he said, towering over my mom. “What's the rush?”
Mom wasn't intimidated by him.
“We're leaving.”
“Leaving? Why?”
“The monster.”
Boss Moshi laughed.
“We have to stick together – all us werewolves. We're family. Come back to my place. Everyone else is there. That monster can't get us tonight if we stay as a group.”
When we got to Boss Moshi's place, the other werewolves were indeed there, just as he said. They were dead on the dining room table. Large knives had been driven into their stomachs and heads. The secretary was carving the meat off someone's thigh and placing the soggy slices on a silver plate.
She noticed us, and smiled.
Mom screamed. The boss locked the door behind us and growled.
“MEAT! MEAT FOR THE BEAST!”
He jumped on Mom and took her face off with one slash and gnawed on her head. His secretary was on my back and biting my neck. She pushed me down some stairs, into the basement, and shut the door. I could hear Mom on the other side screaming. I tried to punch my way through the door. Metal. No use. My knuckles shooting out blood, I stumbled around and hit a light bulb. It swam through the air and created a seizure-inducing show of shadows. I fell into a pile of werewolf heads. Tongues out, their eyes looked up at their scalps. I sat down with a mix of blood and fur covering my face.
Mom called out for me....
How long had I been down there?
The door opened. Boss Moshi picked me up with one hand by the back of my pants, carried me into the dining room, and threw me to the floor. I looked up and focused my eyes and shrieked. Mom was on a rotisserie, above a campfire. She went round and round as the secretary turned the crank. Mom was steaming and popping like bacon. Some of her hot oils jumped and landed on my face. Her head was a black skeleton. Her stomach gave up and all her internal liquids fell out and splashed all over the fire. The smell of cooked flesh tore apart my brain. (God, help me. Mom actually smelt good.) The secretary licked her lips in anticipation as she worked the crank. Mom's body – now cooked all the way through – came undone, and her bones fell through the chains, dropping into the flames and kicking up a flavorful cloud.