Strange Tails

Squirrel wiped dew from his nose before sniffing the flower. Siobhan held it down for him then let it ping back along its arc. The remaining droplets cannoned into the morning air, where finally a nearby spider’s web caught them, setting the neighboring plants a-tremble. Its inhabitant pulsated up and down, like a trampolinist coming to rest. The spider looked up, unimpressed.

“Very nice,” said Squirrel. “Doesn’t make it any less freezing though. If you have any brass monkeys at the Silence you’d better have them stay indoors.”

“This is the most beautiful time of the day, silly,” she laughed. “A peaceful banquet of berries and leaves. What more could one want?”

“A coat and a mug of coffee. And marshmallows. Especially marshmallows.”

“I bet you’ve seen many things haven’t you,” she replied, changing the subject. ”Exciting scrapes with death, war torn battlegrounds, roaming the bitter landscape of a scorched earth. The sorry toll of conflict.”

“It was mainly Walmarts. Though I did see a pretty beat up Aldi once.”

“How you and Potbelly must have suffered. Is she your lover?”

Squirrel’s spittle followed the same arc as the preceding morning dew. Siobhan casually wiped the debris from her smooth coat, not once removing her gaze from his.

“No, no,” he laughed. “Nothing like that. Just friends. She’s … like a taxi service, but with more fleas. Or maybe less, who knows. Anyway, I don’t remember how we met, we were in the grounds of some development or other, I think, I don’t recall being in there, but we happened to be heading in the same direction. It made sense to stick together. And the rest, as they say, is misery.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I mean, you both sticking together. Very admirable. Very … platonic.”

She thought for a moment.

“Come, let me show you something far more … cough … ” she paused to hack up a phlegmy smoker’s gob-let that looked like a half-chewed Skittle. “ … beautiful.” She spat.

“I assume it’s not that,” he replied.

Without answering, Siobhan set off through a clump of tall grass. Squirrel followed, managing to keep track of her round rump and short hard tail as it pendulated from side to side, the face up front seemingly happy to soak up the morning precipitation cloaking every strand. They emerged into a narrow clearing mottled with just those tiny splats of sunlight able to fall through the leafy canopy above.

“See,” she said proudly, gesturing to her surroundings.

Squirrel nodded. Concerned that a nod would not suffice, he added: “Yes, quite nice.”

“Oh you! There’s not much poetry in you, is there?”

“There’s not much breakfast either. Anyway, poetry is just an optical allusion.”

“Food can’t be all you think about. What about other things?”

“Like?”

“Like everything else in the world!”

She watched his face descend into befuddlement. “Well, no matter, what’s important is that I like you.” She yawned and stretched. “Gosh, I’m all wet,” she added.

“You are?”

“It’s cold.” Siobhan shivered an exaggerated shiver. “I could use some body heat. Warm me up. Are you a sharer?”

“I thought we were collecting berries.”

“How about a little protein first? Maybe there’s a tic or two in my belly fur.”

“That’s really not very attractive.”

“Come now, a man of the world like you, I can’t believe you thought we were only here for the fruit. Unless it’s the forbidden kind, of course.”

“I don’t know why I’m here. Got a bit lonely, I guess.”

“Loneliness is a terrible disease. Come to me and be cured.”

Siobhan sashayed forward, a look of determination on her face. In response, Squirrel took equivalent steps back.

“But, but you’re a nutria,” he spluttered. “And I’m, well, I’m not.”

“Your powers of observation are remarkable. Come, stop being so cis-species.” She moved closer and Squirrel stopped his retreat, embarrassed. Until now he had thought of himself as a man of the world.

“Let it swing a little baby. Oh, and speaking of babies, interspecies means no pregnancy. We can do whatever we want, however we want, and … ” she paused, face to face now, closing her eyes and puckering her small, buck-toothed mouth. “ … as many times as we want.”

“Really?”

She pulled back to eye him completely. “We spend our days naked so why waste it? Come, lover, let’s do it like we are the last creatures on earth. Who knows, maybe someday we will.”

Siobhan fell back, letting out loud and passionate breaths, her small stubby arms aloft, awaiting embrace. A few moments passed like this, in ardent anticipation. Then she opened her eyes. Squirrel was gone.

For a couple of minutes Siobhan remained there, staring at the leafy colander above, still letting through its little splats of sunlight like a cautious nightclub bouncer. She sighed, rolled over onto her front, and reached for a cigarette.

“Well old friend,” she said to the cigarette. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”