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3
ONE FATHER, TWO WORLDS
On Earth, at the missing detective’s home
A wet haired girl on the threshold of bawling clung to her mother said, “What happened to daddy?”
Her mother leaned toward the window to desperately glimpse her husband's silhouette, but the vacant walkway yielded no news. From the edge of the cold bed, she draped her arm around the girl’s shoulders. No matter how entrenched, her husband had always found a way to reassure her, until today.
The innocent child sank her head into her mother’s breasts.
“Oh, sweetheart, I ache with you. Believe me, his life and mine are bound. God forbid, if he died, part of me would die with him. Listen, my heart still beats.”
The caring mother embraced her daughter.
“Such a smart dad as yours will find his way home. What’s more, he’s too important for the police to give up searching for him.”
A handful of coco skinned boys with gumbo-stained t-shirts hovered nearby. The products of a loving interracial marriage, they looked dissimilar in tone, but nonetheless determined, learning toughness from their fair-haired mom.
“Now, off to bed with you all.”
The otherwise stubborn children crawled into their bunk beds without argument and cried themselves to sleep.
At 10:30 p.m. a rat-a-tat at the door shattered the bleak silence. A plain-clothed Special Agent displayed his badge and braced his body for the worst reaction.
“Mrs. Durant. Sorry to bother you this late but my investigation uncovered something strange. The staff stated he disappeared, in their view one second, ma’am, gone the next.”
“Next time, send his partner, Alexandra, to talk to me.” Without so much as a goodbye, she closed the door.
On the television, a newscaster spoke in a factual voice. “Authorities report no leads in the string of serial murders plaguing our city. The police discovered another headless woman in the canal this afternoon. Reports suggest the unidentified subject of their investigation keeps the skulls as trophies.”
“One victim, who escaped with hair too short to grasp, quoted her captor. ‘What got into your head?’ This makes the Skull Collector’s twelfth so far. Local authorities advise women to take all necessary precautions until they catch the perpetrator. In breaking news, an unnamed FBI agent investigating the incidents vanished. Updates will follow.”
“Up next, localized outbreaks of the pandemic appear in unaffected areas, while strict controls in the hardest hit cities allow people to go back to work as active cases decline. Researchers promise an antivirus as world leader’s share their countries findings.”
The newscaster’s next announcement of a new immigration law faded into the background as Rachel walked over and glimpsed out the window. Beyond her sight, a menacing figure blended into the shrubbery.
On Terradon Prime
Kita brushed against my leg. “Wish us sweet dreams, Dradda.”
The innocent cubs sprang on the cozella bed and curled up, not breaking eye contact.
With a content smile, I predicted their need. “Drift off into the fantasy of the hunt.”
A yawn stretched Kita’s mouth while she talked. “Aww, my favorite dream.”
From the railed platform, Kiisu’s tail beckoned her sisters.
“This is Koshka, the comedian of the family, and Catalan, my tantalizing younger sibling. Follow them to your treetop dwelling.”
The feline’s erotic face rubs brought to mind Kiisu’s greeting at the sacred pond of my origin—the same ones who denied her attendance at the funeral earlier.
“Both of you!”
“This project requires a quality control inspector. Come on, you will learn the way by the third attempt.”
“Right behind you, Koshka.”
Toward the heavens, we zigzagged and spiraled.
“Koshka, these suspended walkways and the breath-taking cottage view dismiss any doubt of your serenity, safe up here. Tell me, what do you call those insects, clustered like patches of daffodil hued throbbing light?”
“Night-flickers.”
“The child in me yearns to chase them.”
Back inside, I gripped the cord strung to drape the glow stones. The encircling windows provided a secure lookout around the hardwood trunk.
My jaw dropped as Catalan unfurled a king-sized sleeper frond with a gentle touch. Furry hides, the shade of dark plums, cushioned the circumference of the brandlebark den.
Koshka studied me to determine if she might draw out a more startled reaction.
“To administer the last right of a kodobar beasts takes talent. First, you must invoke the sun and bathe the coarse hide in tannin acid... Here,” handing me a leftover rawhide belt, “spank me if I’m bad tonight.”
Uninhibited, Koshka licked my fur clean while Catalan positioned her most desirable feature in my line of sight. On cue, I grasped the horns bound to the back of her waist. My escort’s purr surged, and her body vibrated. To balance herself against my advances, she tightened her grip on the scratched tree.
The bark grew back in rippled patterns from generations of claw marks. Like an attention deficit child, I stroked my paw along the branch. Neither the limb, nor the Mandragora would waver in their struggle to survive.
“Focus Mandagral,” said Catalan, wanting my undivided attention.
If any theorists tried to convince me time is not constant, right now they would succeed; for, what transpired next tore a hole in the continuum of my new world. With a delicate squeeze, Catalan stepped away and traded places, back and forth, over, and again with Koshka, smiling the whole time.
My imagination brought the blushing rugs to life underneath our heated passion. Before long, I drifted off in Koshka’s arms, lifeless to the planet.
In my dreams, nervous energy scurried to recover my past and contemplated my precarious situation. Each blur spun out of control and out of my grasp.
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