David Larson - The Myth of the Anal Probe

Mike dismissed Bob’s sarcasm.

“We have to have rules in a game, otherwise people will cheat,” Mike said.

“Ooooopsy,” Bob said. “Afraid we don’t have a translation for that here. You’ll have to explain cheating I’m afraid.”

“Cheating,” Mike said, frustrated, “is when one side or person purposefully does something they know is wrong in order to win a game that they are playing with another person.”

“Why would…” Mia said, and Bob cut her off with a raised hand again.

“Don’t go there,” He suggested.

“You see,” Bob took over for a little while “Sports, and games are a human extension of war. Except no one dies… usually. One side attacks, and the other side defends. This goes on for a specific amount of time and who ever scores the most points at the end of the game wins.”

“Why would anyone turn war into a game?” Mia asked in shocked surprise.

“Oh,” Bob said. “Excellent question from the class.”

“It’s who we are Mia.” Mike said. “And I guess it’s my job to change all of that.”

Mike was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He had gone to Tawny’s office, “just to say Hi.” The tension he felt was like a physical presence that stalked around the room. Hiding in corners and waiting for the chance to leap on Mike’s back, devouring him in a single swallow. Tawny, of course, was relaxed and as personable as ever. Nothing seemed to fluster her.

At some point Mike blurted out that he would love to have Tawny come over to his place sometime so they could talk privately.

“I think that would be lovely,” Tawny had said.

“Lovely,” Mike thought blissfully. “She thinks spending time alone with me would be lovely.”

It was at that single moment in time that Mike had a complete grasp on the definition of giddy. Because if there ever was a feeling of being giddy, surely he was the embodiment of that emotion right then. He was sure that if you were to look up the word giddy in the dictionary there would be a picture of the current stupid look on his face right next to it.

The date and time had been set and now Mike was just standing in his home waiting for the love of his life to show up. He had made sure that the decor of his surroundings was perfect, and would impress his future wife. Naturally, the understanding that she would see his place however it might be that she perceived him, was so far from his realm of thinking right now, that it existed in another time zone.

Then it was time. His door whooshed open and there she stood. Right then time stood still, and he soaked in the radiant splendor of the answer to everything he could have ever wanted his life to become. He savored the instant that she walked across the threshold of his life, and entered into what would eventually become an eternity together in blissful, carefree, love that would eventually rise and envelop them both in a blanket of endless joy.

“I’d say you look beautiful,” Mike said, “but that would redefine the word.”

Tawny tilted her head to one side.

“Why, thank you,” She said.

Mike had chosen Van Morrison to serenade the couple from the ceiling. Moon Dance filled the room with its beatnik like rhythm and slow under current of rolling bass line. Van laid the piano cords down and Mike smiled.

“I love Van Morrison,” Tawny said.

“Oh, I was afraid you had never heard it before,” Mike said. “But this music pretty much relates to everyone eventually, if they’ve heard it or not, I guess.”

“I fell in love with it on one of my very first trips to Earth,” Tawny said as she walked into Mike’s home. “It’s so rich and meaningful. You can just feel that he puts every single fiber of himself into what he writes.”

“Please, have a seat,” Mike said.

He was going to ask if he could get her anything to drink and remembered that there was no form of alcohol on Hale. Drinking was simply done in order to quench a thirst, never just to be sociable, or give your hand something to hold while your face was busy trying to impress people.

“How have you been getting along, Mike?” She asked.

Every time she said his name Mike felt like his fingertips had been hooked up to a car battery.

“Ah,” Mike stumbled, “things have been pretty great actually. Well, great, and terrifying, and amazing all rolled up into one neat package, I guess.”

“I hear you got to go to the lake,” she said smiling.

“Yeah, that,” Mike said as his face flushed crimson. “It would have been just awesome if Bob had given me a little heads-up about the attire first.”

“I’m sure it would have,” She said giggling just a little. “But then that wouldn’t have been Bob, would it.”

“No, I’m afraid it wouldn’t.”

“How did you like it?”

“It was great,” Mike said. “But it would have been better if you could have been there.”

Instantly he wished he could have reached out and stuffed the words right back into his mouth before they reached Tawny’s ears. He was terrified that she would think he had just said he wished he could have seen her naked.

“I wish I could have, too,” she said, clearly not taking it the way he was afraid of. “But duty called, as they say. I had a story that was pretty important that I had to get out.”

“What was it?” he asked.

“A hurricane was threatening one of the areas farther west of here,” she said. “I had to let people know where they could get information on people that needed homes to evacuate to, and what others could do to help.”

“I guess I never thought of natural disasters here,” Mike said. “Where do people evacuate to? Are there shelters, and who runs them?”

“No. We really don’t have a need for that. When people need to leave a region for something like a wild fire of hurricane, they simply are absorbed into communities that aren’t threatened. Some go to available housing that already exists, other live with people in the area. If they decide to stay, then they live with others until new homes can be constructed. It really is the only thing that makes sense here. You see the suffering of others and do what it takes to alleviate it.”

“I guess it is the only thing that makes sense,” he said, “and consequently, it’s the only way it could be here.”

“Consequently,” She said in agreement.

Mike struggled for something to say. He realized that he was doing a horrible job of keeping up his end of the conversation. He couldn’t help but surrender himself to the workings of those incredible lips. It was all that existed when she talked, and all other sensory things that were happening around him were muffled. Like he was hearing them under water.

Overhead a flute trilled, and Moon Dance ended. Mike was only partially aware that Brown Eyed Girl had taken its place. Playful notes danced off an acoustic guitar and floated around the room like the fireflies in the memorial garden. Chords started to chink along and walk up the fret board.

“Hey where did we go? Days when the rains came. Down in the hollow. Playin’ a new game…”

Van was singing, Mike was smiling, and Tawny was radiating.

It could have been more perfect but he really couldn’t even begin to imagine how.

“I’m so glad you were able to come over,” Mike said.

“So am I,” Tawny said as she spread the warmest of smiles all the way around the room.

They talked, and laughed. Mike was more comfortable, and able to allow himself to open up in ways that he never had before. She asked him if he was grasping everything he needed on Hale. He told her that nearly everything on Hale was something that had nagged his soul for as long as he could remember. He said that he had shared some of his feelings with others with when he was younger and had been met with ridicule, and sympathetic looks from people older than him. Most had explained that when he got older he would realize why things could never be the way he thought they should be.