Sunlight started
spilling into Lloyd’s room. As the heat
tickled her body, Trixie shifted her way out of the sheets, and rubbed the last
bits of the sandman’s dust out of her eyes.
She was a bit surprised she’d even fallen asleep -- but of course, the
drool gathered atop the bed gave her all the proof she needed. She rubbed her head, trying to smooth her
ruffled hair…and to massage her brain before the prince’s inevitable antics
gave her a migraine.
She threw off the
sheets with a wide swing of her arm.
“All right, so whaddya gonna do to me today?” she asked. But to her surprise, she didn’t get an
answer. She stared at the door ahead; no
Lloyd in sight.
“The jackass already
left,” said JP.
Trixie catapulted out
of the bed and hit the floor. When she
crawled up its side, she locked eyes with JP, leaning casually against the wall
with his hands in his jacket pocket.
“What, are ya tryin’ to give me a heart attack?!” she yelled.
JP stared at her for a
while, and then turned toward the door.
“So you sleep in that swimsuit of yours, too?” he asked the door.
“Just gonna ignore me
then, huh…?”
“Course I do. Whaddya think I am, some kinda moron?”
“You don’t want me to
answer that.”
Trixie grumbled and
clenched her teeth, but decided not to bite back. She unrolled the sheet and opened it wide,
allowing her to bear witness to a slew of beautiful black strokes.
Dear Miss Walters,
You’ll forgive me for being absent upon your awakening, but I could
hardly stand sitting still when my body and mind refused to let me have a
moment’s rest. The mere opportunity to
make good on the day’s potential and promises left me buzzing -- buzzing, my
fair lady! -- with far greater energy than a storm set in motion by Zeus
himself! So much so that I had to expend
that energy or risk a degradation of my form and senses; hence, I had to resort
to writing to you in calligraphy with my right hand. Rather impressive, eh? It’s a shame so few women can stand my
company; if they could, they might learn how much fun it is to play with the
handwriting arts! Why, if my guess is
correct --
“Is he at the part
where he’s talking about calligraphy?” JP asked. “You can ignore that.”
Trixie nodded, and
skipped the next five paragraphs.
And that’s why you must always exercise caution when becoming entangled
with the sea. Anyway, I’m off to
school. I’ll leave the particulars of
your stay to JP and my dad; they should have something for you to entertain
yourself with until I return. And when I
do, we can keep strengthening our bonds.
Because bonding is a pre
“He ran outta space,”
said Trixie, noticing how he’d been forced to cram the last few lines into the
corner. She tossed the sheet aside. “So what happens now?”
JP folded his
arms. “I’m guessing that now’s as good a
time as any for you to wash up. With
Lloyd out of the house, you won’t have to worry about any lusty young men
trying to get a look at you. After all,
my dad’s just one little incident away from getting the death penalty, and I
still think girls are icky.”
“Y-yeah, I guess ya got
a point.” She’d practically been bathing
in salt water for days; bits of her hair looked more like seaweed than her
typical straight locks. “I think I’ll
take a shower, if ya don’t mind.”
“And you’ll need new
clothes too, won’t you? We can’t have
you walking around like that. We might
be able to get you in some of Lloyd’s clothes since you’re almost the same size…of
course, a woman like you probably needs something a little more feminine.”
“Maybe yer right.”
“If that’s the
case…” JP pulled out his
calculator. “Let’s crunch some numbers.”
And suddenly, Trixie
felt like throwing up.
*
Lloyd sat on the steps
leading to L. Bernstein High’s auditorium, unmoved as the sun bobbed higher and
higher above the horizon. Neither
heating morn nor rustling tree could move him from his spot in the shade;
freshman passing by thought he could pass for the school’s purple-haired
gargoyle. While he took note of the new
students filing out of buses and walking in front of the building, gripping the
straps of their backpacks like the edge of a cliff, he paid them little
mind. He just kept his hands clasped,
unaware of the sweat starting to gather on his face.
What do I do? What on earth do I
do now? he thought, his smile straining into a wobbly line. Here I
am at school -- my stomping grounds, without question -- and yet I can summon
no more courage than a beaten mongrel! One
would think that by now I’d have taken strides toward my lovely republic…yet
here I am, paralyzed with fear!
He stared at his
palms. By touching a woman -- in this case, Miss Walters -- I managed to
access that audition room and affect her heart.
That much I know. But if that rule
holds true… His eye swept about as a
bevy of girls passed by him. …Does that mean that from now on, every
female I touch will be put to the test?
A pair of girls stopped
for a moment to stare at Lloyd. With
nervous smiles they waved at him. Lloyd
smiled cheerfully right back at them, and offered a casual wave…and then,
chomped on his hand. No, Lloyd!
No! You mustn’t let the fairer
sex get the better of you! Stave your
hand and your charms until you can sort out the full extent of your powers!
The girls watched for a
moment as Lloyd continue to smile -- even while eating a self-served knuckle
sandwich -- and then, they realized that they should skedaddle.
I’ve no choice. I absolutely,
positively must not touch any women, he thought, spitting out his
hand. If I do…wait. Who’s to say that
not touching en masse won’t help me accomplish my goal? If the idea is to spread my influence as
quickly and thoroughly as I can, then surely a maelstrom of physical contact
should work wonders. As they say,
fortune favors the bold.
But wait. If my reputation of my
hands-on approach spreads, doubtless my name will be slandered before I even
get a chance to explain myself. I’ll be
facing repercussions on a massive scale -- with the school faculty, least of
all. And should something happen to me
in that regard, my progress would be positively crippled.
He turned aside. On the
other hand, honesty is a policy that has brought nothing but solace
before…well, solace and the occasional broken limb. Regardless, if I remain open and act
according to my whims… He turned
aside again. No, wait. I may have uplifted
Miss Walters’ heart, but I came very close to doing the opposite. If I merely strut about, touching and
invading hearts at my leisure, then I’d be putting too many fair maidens at
risk.
Lloyd sighed, and
nodded slowly. Then as it stands, my course is set.
I’ll need to develop my abilities slowly and discreetly, so that when
the time comes for me to act publically, I’ll have all the experience necessary
to enrapture the populace in one fell swoop. He cast an eye behind him, and to the
auditorium’s doors. I wonder…a full season has nearly passed, but my true bastion no doubt
remains. If I could use that platform to
my advantage…hmmm?
The rustling of some
nearby bushes drew his eye. He caught
glimpses of something between the brush, -- a wild animal, perhaps? He’d heard rumors of a bear wandering about
Porbeagle.
But his hopes were
quickly dashed. It -- she emerged with little fanfare, unfazed
by the leaves clinging to her body.
Judging by her petite frame, she had to be a freshman; for seconds at a
time, Lloyd thought there was something almost fairy-like about her. Even with a twig or two stuck in her socks,
she had a certain air about her -- cocoa-hued skin with a fair, albeit
soil-caked, shine; short hair that reminded Lloyd of a tumbleweed, half-hidden
by a thick beanie; a tanktop, cargo shorts, and boots that wouldn’t look out of
place on a safari.
She rubbed the back of
her neck. “Not here, either,” she
muttered, though judging by her laid-back tone she didn’t seem too
bothered.
Lloyd raised his
eyebrows. Another girl looking for something?
Normally I would think this little more than a stroke of good luck, but… He raised a hand. “Excuse me.
Do you have a moment? I’d like to
ask you something.”
The girl turned toward
him. As expected, she had the round face
of a child, and a nose that wouldn’t look out of place on a doll. Lloyd couldn’t say the same for her eyes;
those brown orbs of hers looked so bored and glazed-over that he thought she
might fall asleep in the middle of their conversation. “By the sound of things, you’re on a mission
to find something. Correct?”
The girl stared blankly
at him, but nodded lazily a few moments later.
“By any chance, you
wouldn’t happen to be looking for some sort of treasure?”
She just kept staring
at him.
“Ah -- you know…” Lloyd spread his hands wide. “The sort of treasure you’d see in pirate
movies. Treasure chests, packed to the
brim with gleaming doubloons! Unearthed
by malcontents looking to make good on utilizing the hidden fortune!”
The girl continued
staring.
I didn’t think I was this bad
at talking to women, Lloyd thought. I mean, I haven’t been good at it in years,
but still…oh, don’t tell me she’s thinking about what sort of attack she wants
to use against me. A slap in the
face? A kick to the gut? She wouldn’t dare use the dreaded Boston
Crab, would she? I don’t think my body
can --
“Treasure is stupid,”
the girl declared. She pointed to her
cap, just above her left eyebrow, to the beetle-shaped pin fastened onto the
cloth. “Looking for bugs.”
“B-bugs?” Lloyd leaned forward, eyes wide, and adjusted
his glasses. He stared at her exposed
hands -- covered in old, unraveling work gloves, and shrouded in enough dirt to
plant a tree. “I see. Fascinating.
I wasn’t aware that one could pursue that scientific branch so early --
but whatever the case, I commend you for being so…er, dedicated to your craft.”
The girl’s eyebrows
twitched. “Don’t diss bugs.”
“I wasn’t, I
wasn’t! It’s just --”
At the sound of that,
the girl relaxed. “You like them?”
“Er…well…I wouldn’t go
that far,” Lloyd said with an awkward chuckle.
“But that’s not to say bugs in and of themselves are awful. It’s just that they have a rather poor
reputation.”
“That’s true.”
“In fact…” Lloyd held
up a finger. “I think they’re actually
rather pleasant creatures -- no more unworthy of life than the mockingbird or
the manatee! Why, if only people were
more exposed to them and given a chance to enjoy their company, we would see
that they’re as enjoyable to be around as the average dog!”
The girl stared blankly
at him again. For a second, Lloyd
wondered if she just processed words slowly; between the blank stare and her
lethargic, almost zombie-like posture, even a phrase like “off-kilter” seemed
inadequate for describing her.
Finally she shifted her
head a bit. “You’re weird.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded. “But you kind of like bugs, so I guess you’re
all right.” She shifted her head again,
turning absentmindedly toward the auditorium.
“For a weirdo.”
I wonder if this is how JP feels when he deals with me, Lloyd
thought.
The girl looked back at
Lloyd. “Bugs are great. Know why?”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Wanna learn why?”
“Er…well, sure. What could it hurt? The new school year is about to begin, and a
bit of learning beforehand couldn’t possibly bring me any bodily harm.”
The girl patted her
hands against the sides of her shorts, rubbing them against the bulging
pockets. She reached inside them and
pulled out two hefty clumps of dirt -- two hefty clumps of dirt bursting with
hundreds of incensed ants. “Touch
them. They’re cool.”
But Lloyd had already
leapt back three feet. “Absolutely not!”
he wailed, pulling up his arms in defense.
“I’ll do a lot for the fairer sex, but even I have my limits! And I’d like to think that being stung a
thousand times is upon or very near that limit!”
“You won’t get
stung.” She glanced at a passing
cloud. “Much.”
“Once is too many, my
dear! Please, throw them away!”
She shrugged, and set
the clumps on the ground; on contact, the ants crawled all over the concrete
looking for human flesh to assault.
“They hate pockets anyway. Not
enough sugar.” She stepped back a few
paces. “Maybe I’ll find a nice dragonfly
for you. You look like the dragonfly
type.”
“I do?” With his heart rate finally slowing down (and
having avoided every ant that came his way), Lloyd offered a friendly
smile. “Well, I suppose you’re the
expert. I’ll leave the bug-finding to
you, Miss…er…um, I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”
“May.”
“Ah, like the
month! Splendid! It suits you…though I’d prefer to call you by
your last name.”
May stared blankly at
him again.
“Or perhaps I can make
an exception.” Lloyd patted a hand to
his chest. “And you, my fair lady, can
call me --”
“I know who you are,
Lloyd,” said May, no more emotionally than she had anything else so far. And with that she headed off, hands in her
pockets and eyes locked on a butterfly bobbing through the air.
Lloyd just stood there,
watching her back as she stepped down the sidewalk. She
knows me? From where?
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