6. Ascending into other thoughts
"…You can't be serious."
For a moment, Banjo sounded as if he was on the verge of tears, or as if he was about to maul something. Something in between that. But nobody blamed him. After all, Tooty was his little sister. And the thought of losing her again…
For a moment, he wanted to jump out of the window and go and look for her right away, but he remembered that he left his backpack with Kazooie elsewhere quickly enough before attempting to do so. And of course, it was still raining.
He slunk to the most nearby chair, where he sat down and stared before himself with a dead-eyed glare.
Kazooie, who was a little better at hiding her emotions, fluttered over to her friend and perched on his lap to give him some comfort. Though she annoyedly muttered something about 'not again', he merely sighed and ruffled the feathers on the top of her head. It brought him at least enough comfort to not break down altogether.
Meanwhile, Timber gestured at Conker to look at something he was looking at himself, while the rest of the group quietly went their own ways again to give Banjo some time and space to process the news.
Though Conker felt little for listening to Timber on any time at all, he still obliged, but it was mostly to not dampen Banjo's mood even more with senseless bickering. Similarly, Timber decided to not bring up Pipsy's apparent clinginess towards the red squirrel to avoid arguments.
"What's up?"
"This," Timber began as he held up an old photo book. It seemed to be around for a very long time now, almost a decade from the looks of it. "I'm looking through old photo books. I began with it to distract myself, but then I realized I might just as well look in it to find some clues as to what might have happened to Taj. And now Tooty, too. Maybe you need to take a look yourself as well."
He carefully handed the book over towards Conker, who carefully took it, almost seeming afraid to drop it. Though it did sound rather silly – how would these old memories help them at all? He swore Timber had gone mad or something. And honestly, it wouldn't be beyond him.
But he was dreadfully curious as to what its contents were.
He looked up at Timber once, as if to ask if it was okay to open such an old, priceless book. The tiger merely gave an indifferent but reassuring nod and Conker opened it.
Just seeing the first page brought a wave of nostalgia over him. Most of the photos were black, white, and grey, but some were in colours, and those bright colours just made him remember his childhood – his lost innocence – so vividly.
It was summer, his pelt was fiery red, and he could almost smell the grass and the spume of the sea.
"Yeah-ha-ha! Eat that, sucka'!"
First place. For the first time since he had come here. And seeing that look on Timber's face was worth it. Timber lost all the times before, and this time was no different.
Conker grinned wickedly. Not only had he made it to first place, he also got one of those really pretty, shiny, golden balloons, personally handed to him by Taj himself. The only ones who had managed to get one so far were Diddy and Pipsy. And now, he had one too. He was too proud of his achievement to acknowledge the fact that it was mostly luck that made him win.
"Mind your language," the echoing voice of T.T. boomed over him, which made him yelp and frizz up all the fur on his tail, twitching his whiskers.
The walking stopwatch was some kind of guardian figure to the young animals, because obviously, having a bunch of eight-year-olds (and then, some of them were even younger than that) running around on their own is asking for trouble. Conker was notorious in being the only one bold enough to call him 'unca T.T.'.
The clock-like being shook his finger to and fro, lecturing the young squirrel. "We do not tolerate name-calling."
"Aw, c'mon, unca T.T.! Don't be mad at me! He was bein' a big ol' sucka'!"
Then Conker felt a hit on the back of his head. It wasn't hard, or painful. More of a 'listen to me, dang it'-hit.
"Mind your language," 'unca' T.T. repeated himself with that echoing voice.
Conker stuck out his tongue towards the anthropomorphic stopwatch, which, lucky enough for him, went unnoticed. He curled his tail around before he skipped out of the Dino Domain, back to the central area, to brag about his victory over his self-proclaimed rival. Said rival, namely Timber, remained where he was for a while to complain to Taj about "that stupid squirrel picking on me".
"I got me a ballooooon! Ehehe!"
"You did?" a small but high-pitched voice sounded from the crowd of animals that he was approaching. Young Conker's tail frizzed up again, just when it had gone back to normal, and he swallowed. He knew that voice. Pipsy.
"You have a balloon too! Yeah! Just like me!" She giggled, and looked up at him with big, shiny eyes. "Congrats!"
The small yellow mouse threw her arms around him in an embrace, rubbing her head against his chest, but he wasn't sure what to think of it. He had to cover his cheeks to hide his upcoming blush. "It's… er – it's just a balloon, Pips'… eep."
He thought Pipsy to be a bit clingy, a bit to an annoying extent, but she was rather sweet, and, apart from Banjo, the only one that bothered with him at all.
For once, he didn't know what to say.
Pipsy would always try to get closer to Conker, even during the races. She was one of the few that considered him her friend, taking his hyperactivity for granted – all because she had a little crush on the squirrel lad. It was all so obvious, but not to Conker. Conker just thought she liked him – really liked him. And so, she had suggested becoming his girlfriend a few minutes after he declared his victory over Timber.
Conker wasn't sure what that meant, but the thought was unfamiliar and frightening to him somehow. He bounded off and left her in the dust without thinking about her feelings. He barely heard her high-pitched crying when he was off minding his own business.
When he met up with her again later on, she seemed really angry at him, and he honestly could not imagine why.
And yet… it didn't deter her. She still skittered after him wherever he went, and Conker was honestly wondering how she could keep up with him on those short little legs of hers.
Later that day, he had asked Diddy what having a girlfriend meant, and if Pipsy could be considered his. In his young brain, it merely meant having a friend that just happened to be female. Diddy, though also young but surprisingly clever for his age, had explained to him in as little words as possible that having a girlfriend meant having a female friend that you want to marry when you grow up.
Conker wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he bounded off on all fours, his bright gold balloon dancing in the air behind him. He darted up a nearby tree in a flurry of red-yellow-white fur to look at everyone from a higher place – which, in a way, reflected how he felt superior to everyone at this point.
He still wasn't entirely sure what Pipsy meant with becoming his girlfriend, but in his young mind he did know that having a girlfriend, at this point, would definitely be just about the lamest thing ever.
"You okay there?" Timber asked. "You kinda phased out there for a sec."
"Eh? I'm fine." Conker flipped through the book and shrugged nonchalantly. He didn't want to put it away, to let it go. Every picture brought memories along with them. It filled him with thoughts and feelings unlike any he felt recently. He could almost smell it – almost taste it. It was so close, and yet untouchable, unseeable. Happiness, happiness unlike anything he has felt in much too long. He quietly wished that somehow, he could capture that essence of happiness and keep it in his heart forever. All the while, the rain outside provided a thunderous thumping as a soundtrack to Conker's dear memories.
Wasn't he supposed to be looking at clues? He didn't care. The book was rather big and there was another one. Without asking Timber, he put the book away to sit down on the nearby chair and flip through the other one. He'd gladly spend the rest of the day reminiscing.
Timber left him in that little book corner to himself, as he went to check on everyone.
Banjo was still sitting on the chair with Kazooie, calmed down by now, but still rather sullen-looking. Pipsy was looking out the window, seemingly deep in thought. Bumper and Drumstick were chatting with each other, for once not bickering, along with Junior. The overall mood was calm, despite the rain trashing and crashing against the hut, which gave way with loud creaking and groaning. And yet, everything stayed in place.
Timber was proud of the construction – what started out as a spacious summer home for the entire gang, and then some – he had built it mostly by himself along with his father a long time ago. It could withstand even the heaviest storm. Or so he thought. He shivered, for it was getting a bit cold. Winter was coming soon this year.
As he marched forward and stood there with his hands on his hips, everyone turned their attention to him merely because he was there. He then counted their heads and couldn't help but notice someone missing.
"Where's Krunch?"
Indeed, the reptile wasn't around.
Pipsy shrugged. "Krunch doesn't like the cold," she said. "He's told me he's not able to do much without feeling sore, so he's taken to staying in his room."
Timber wasn't amused. This was serious, and then some lizards he can't mention think it's perfectly fine to take a nap while everybody else is waiting for the rain to stop and going out again.
But going out and escorting anymore search parties wasn't going to happen at all today anymore. It was becoming dark outside. The tall trees that surrounded the glade the hut was built in would've drawn long shadows into the meadows, would there be any sun at all.
And on top of all that, the rain was only getting worse. As was Timber's mood.
"Alright, guys, that's all for today," he said and sighed, going to sit on his chair, accidentally waking the little parrot that was sleeping there while he did. The bird gave an annoyed caw and flew up to the bookcase where nobody would bother him any further.
It remained like this for a while, until Krunch came out of his room, holding an oil lamp. He was looking about cautiously, as if somebody would sneak up to him somehow.
In his sluggish movements, he bumped against the absent-minded Conker.
"Watch where ya goin', ya big lug!" the squirrel snapped at once, only to be shot a vile glance by the humongous reptile after he was done turning his head around to face him, ever so slowly.
"What's that, squeaky?" he spoke ominously, but that might have just been the cold also slowing down his responsiveness.
Without saying another word, he went to the rug and carefully placed the lamp in the centre. This triggered the other animals to huddle around it as if it were a campfire, and with a knowing smirk, the crocodile took place between them.
Timber rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. To kill the time, and the melancholy mood, his crew would occasionally huddle around an oil lamp when the evening fell to tell each other stories. Sometimes spooky ones, but mostly ones from that childhood on this island that they all so dearly missed. He usually left them to themselves while he did more important things. After all, being a ruler brought responsibilities, and he knew this. Something told him that maybe he should say something about it, but he decided against it and went to fix up a simple but filling dinner for those who were hungry.
"Alright, who's got a story?" Drumstick began as he looked around the circle. He noticed Junior bouncing up and down with his hand in the air. Seemingly the young turtle knew a good story himself and seemed all too eager to tell it. Though such a little guy, Junior always had a lot of stories to tell, much like his dad – but his dad's stories all amounted to people being out to get him. Tiptup was a bit of a paranoid turtle in his young years.
"Wait," Pipsy said, "Maybe Conker can tell a story. I'd be interested in knowing more about him."
Krunch growled under his breath, but it went unnoticed.
"No wonder," Bumper muttered quietly. "If I didn't knew any better, I'd say she's still got a crush on the guy."
Lucky for him, nobody heard that, either, and Pipsy jumped up to go over to Conker's side. He protested a little at first, being too occupied in his little world of childhood memories, but eventually joined her anyway, and went to sit among the others as well. (Even if he did try his best to stay as far as possible away from Krunch.)
The glow from the oil lamp stung to his vision, and he had to supress the need to rub his eyes. But apart from that, it seemed rather peaceful.
As he almost dozed off, Pipsy quickly explained to him that this was a little game they often did, telling each other stories in turns. Conker merely nodded, though he barely heard anything she said. He was rubbing his forehead pensively trying to think of a good story to tell. Of course. He's been through so much, but he couldn't tell all of it. If he just summarized the most important things…
"Alright, you guys," he said in a slow voice and straightened his back. "I got a story, but it's a bit of a tearjerker."
Everyone focused on him despite this disclaimer, and suddenly he felt spied on. Pipsy, who was sitting next to him, shuffled a bit closer, which made him smile wearily.
Conker cleared his throat and went to tell his history.
"I haven't told you this yet, but after you guys last saw me… I've been through a lot."
He purposely paused, looking around the circle. Everyone was all ears. Even Junior.
"Things didn't always go too well for me, but the worst was that day after my twenty-first birthday… everything that happened that day was unbelievable and weird. I came to call it a bad fur day."
He paused again, to make it all sound a little more dramatic. He wasn't too good at storytelling, but he would at least try to make it sound whimsical enough. Not that that needed too much effort. The adventure he had was rather… absurd. He wasn't even sure if they'd believe him.
"That night, I was supposed to go home, but I had drank too much and ended up in the woods, far away from my home, with a raging hangover."
"What's an hangover?" Junior piped up, and Conker winced. He had forgotten there was a kid about. Just fall asleep, you little twit, he thought.
"A hangover is what happens when you accidentally drink too many drinks that aren't good for you," Bumper quickly explained, and the young turtle seemed at peace with it.
"Thanks, Bumper," Conker said, relieved that he didn't have to explain that. He was going to hold on to the more… adult subjects from now on, or at least try to. "Anyway…
After a particularly creepy scarecrow told me how and what about 'context sensitive' – you might hear more about that later – I went on my way. There was this… I don't know what, but it seemed like a valley. It was bright and colourful, but it felt… off, felt creepy rather than happy.
And that was when my adventure really began. I ran into bee queens, mad pitchforks, big-breasted–… er, well-endowed sunflowers, a singing pile of poo…"
He almost slipped up at the sunflower bit, but to his relief, he noticed that they were too amused by the 'singing pile of poo' part to pay it more attention.
"…Rude cogs, snobby catfish, fire imps, I think there was a vampire too… and the guy ended up being my great-great-somethin' grandfather. This means I'm technically part vampire."
He noticed a light-bulb above his head and pulled out a flashlight, to which he turned it on and held it under his head, lighting up his face in the classic 'telling scary stories around a campfire' kind of way.
But instead of frightening anyone, it made everyone laugh, including Pipsy, who snuggled closer to him afterwards, and Conker smiled to himself as well. They'd be in for a surprise, because later, the story definitely would take a turn for the worse. For his own sake, he skipped over some parts that would undoubtedly give him a panic attack if he tried to remember it again.
"So yeah. That happened. And then…"
This was, by far, the toughest part.
"Something with a fairy panther king, and an alien. And…"
He swallowed. Maybe he'd skip over Berri's death as well. But then, if he did that, they'd never know why he became what he was that day. Banjo knew, but he had probably fallen asleep on the chair right now.
Let it go, Conker, he scolded himself. It had no effect.
He wanted desperately to erase the memories from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not. He had to face the facts, and the others had, too.
"Berri. My girlfriend. She would've been my queen, was she still alive. Yeah, she… she died."
