Disclaimer: I still don't own Madagascar or it's characters...or the movie dialogue. Heh.
Seaborne
The dormancy of his consciousness was broken by familiar voices. They tugged, gently at first, at the blanket of deep sleep. Coherent thoughts began to trickle in and the vague became tangible. The crick in his neck. The dull ache in his shoulder – his right shoulder. The world moved with a gentle, perpetual rocking motion. His senses woke, one at a time. Hearing. Feeling. The taste in his mouth was stale, nothing pleasant or otherwise.
Now partially awake, he recognized scents moving though the air. Wood. Salt. Something mechanical. With the next breath, there came scents he knew. The warm, musty, feline smell of a certain male lion. A faint scent that resembled freshly mowed grass but also a barn, equine in nature. And last, but certainly not least, one that he so often pined for. One that sent shivers down his spine, that tugged at the corners of his muzzle and gave rise to the faintest of smiles, and the one that made him sleepily blink open his eyes. He found himself shrouded in dim, sickly light.
Melman yawned and stretched, but found his mobility was limited due to barriers on all sides. "Ugh," he mumbled, mostly to himself. "Sleeping just knocks me out."
"Melman!"
"Is that Melman?"
"Are you okay?" Gloria's voice permeated the barrier between them and reached his ears. Though it was a bit muffled, it was comfortingly close. His brain, still a haze after his deep slumber, put the pieces together: drowsiness, a small enclosed space, his friends nearby… he was obviously getting an MRI.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her, a warmth spreading throughout his body at the notion that she was concerned about him. "I often doze off while getting an MRI." But, at the same time, he felt a small twinge of fear. Why would Gloria be so concerned about him? Magnetic resonance imaging was a staple in Melman's life, and Gloria knew it. Why were Alex and Marty so surprised to see him?
It was Alex who addressed his unspoken questions. "Melman, you're not getting an MRI." Melman frowned. Something was off. The smells. The mysterious but gentle sensation of rising and falling. His friends' surprise and concern of his presence and well-being. Now there was something else: Alex's voice. It was weird.
"CAT scan?" Melman tried.
"No!" Alex exclaimed in what sounded like exasperation. "No CAT scan." The lion's voice had an edge that Melman almost didn't recognize, an emotion he himself often expressed but sounded foreign when it tinged Alex's usual arrogance. The first tendrils of panic felt their way along his limbs. Alex the lion, king of New York, was scared. Petrified, even. He could smell the fear, now. It was radiating from all three of his friends, even level-headed Gloria.
"It's a transfer! It's a zoo transfer!"
Melman's blood ran cold. "A zoo transfer." He repeated. He was not getting an MRI. Not a CAT scan. He was still asleep. He had to be. He was just having another weird dream. The antibiotics caused that, didn't they? It happened before. Was that last night? Or the night before? His mind was spinning. His hooves scrambled for purchase on the mysterious barrier that enclosed him. It was wood. He was in a wooden box – a crate. "Oh, no – I can't be transferred! I-I have an appointment with Dr. Goldberg at 5!"
"Melman – "
Who said that? Melman did not know, nor did he care. His heart and mind were racing. It all made sense. The crate. The salty and mechanical smells. The gentle rise and fall. They were on a boat, which was probably on the ocean, going God-knows-where. His breathing felt shallow. He couldn't catch his breath. Hyperventilation. He would lose too much oxygen and carbon dioxide, which would cause all kinds of issues with the pH of his blood and he would have to take even more medications to regulate it, speaking of – "There are prescriptions that have to be filled!"
"Calm down, Melman – " another voice interjected.
Calm down? Calm down?! "No other zoo can afford my medical care!" This would be the cause of his death, Melman knew. They would be transferred to an unregulated, run-down zoo with no attendance, funds, or vet staff. He would get bitten by a mosquito, flea, or some other parasite; perhaps he would breathe in some infectious particles; or maybe he would have no access to preventative care. He would catch something simple – like a cold – and that would be it. No more Melman Mankiewicz. The end of an era.
"Melman!"
"And I am not going HMO!" he finished, slamming his head into the crate in frustration. The giraffe was out of breath and drenched in sweat, and he wanted nothing more than to be safely in his brick shelter after an acupuncture appointment and a clean bill of health.
"Take it easy, Melman," Marty spoke up. "It's gonna be okay. We are going to be o-kizay." Melman's breathing did not slow. The fear was still there. Not only in himself, but Marty, as well. The slightly muffled reassurance did nothing to mask the palpable panic that hung in the air.
"No, Marty, we are not going to be o-kizay," Alex shot back. "Now, because of you, we're ruined!" Melman could feel the emotion behind the accusation.
"Because of me? Marty's voice rose in pitch in disbelief. "I fail to see how this is my fault."
Melman was about to voice his opinion, but Gloria had the same one. "You're kidding, right Marty?" After all, it was Marty who left. Marty was the one who jumped the fence, the one who ran through the streets of New York, and the one who caused the scene in Grand Central Station.
"You-you ticked off the people!" Alex snapped. "You bit the hand, Marty! You bit the hand!"
Why were they in Grand Central Station to begin with? To look for Marty, the one who ran away in belief that the grass was greener somewhere else.
"I don't know who I am," Alex mocked, "I don't know who I am! I gotta go find myself in the wild!" From the series of quick thuds that resonated from the neighboring crate, Melman could practically see Alex prancing around like a show horse in the limited space.
They were therefore tranquilized because Marty ran away. They were being transferred due to the mistakes of a delusional zebra.
"Hey!" Marty defended himself. "I did not ask for you guys to come after me."
Melman's in-depth causal analysis of their current predicament screeched to a halt. "He does have a point," he said. Yes, they were in the situation because Marty ran away, but their own decisions to follow him landed them in the center of a police circle.
"What?" Alex cried in disbelief. Melman could feel the daggers of the lion's disgust pointed right at him and his small act of betrayal.
"I did say we should stay at the zoo, but you guys – "
"Melman, just shut it!" Alex shouted. "You're the one who suggested this whole idea to him in the first place!"
"Alex," Gloria warned, "Leave Melman out of this, please."
"Thank you, Gloria." Melman was grateful for her defense of his good name, but at the same time, he knew he didn't deserve it. Alex was right. At Marty's birthday dinner, it had not been Alex, Gloria, or even Marty who had brought up the idea of running off to Connecticut. It had been Melman. He had made a stupid, stupid mistake, and they were all paying for it. Marty was too optimistic, too naïve, too impressionable for Melman to have suggested that in his presence. But no. He had been unable to keep his mouth shut.
I even gave him the train to take.
I gave him directions.
But I'm not the one who ran away.
"Besides, Alex, it's not my fault that we were transferred!" Melman spat the last word. His own guilt and fear had given rise to anger.
"Melman, shut it," Gloria commanded. Melman obeyed. Gloria skillfully changed the topic, much to the giraffe's relief. "Does anybody feel nauseous?"
Now that she mentioned it, Melman's stomach did feel a little odd. "I feel nauseous." It was probable seasickness. Or it could be related to anxiety. Or maybe a seaborne illness had already taken hold and he had only hours to live.
"Melman, you always feel nauseous," Alex flatly pointed out. Melman said nothing, because Alex was right.
For a few minutes, all was silent. It was as if everyone were basking in the relief that an all-out war did not break out. But the friends could not sit in silence for too long, for if they did, each one of them would be alone with his or her own fearful thoughts and the distant crashing of waves far below. And that combination was almost more painful than any quarreling between friends.
Melman did not want to be the first to break the silence. Of course, Marty was the one on which the honor was bestowed. "So," he began. Melman could feel him carefully measuring out his words, knowing that one wrong word or inflection could ignite the tension in the air. "Where do you guys think we're goin'?"
"The question is, where did you think you were going?" Alex mumbled. Melman and Gloria groaned.
"I beg your pardon?" Marty said, with overdramatized offense.
"I said: Where did you think you were going?" Alex repeated. Melman could hear the lion pacing. "Did you honestly think that you could waltz through New York City, get on a train, explore Connecticut - or whatever the heck you wanted to do – and be back by sunrise?"
"Here we go again," Melman murmured, half to himself.
Marty chuckled. "Alex, buddy, you underestimate me. You always have. Besides, I didn't have any trouble until you guys showed up to 'rescue' me."
"Marty –" Gloria started. Alex cut her off.
"Don't put this on us, Marty. This was all you. We were trying to stop you from throwing your life away!" Alex replied. With every syllable the lion seemed to become more livid.
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Alex. You have to know that." Melman felt a stab of sympathy for Marty. Of course the zebra hadn't meant for anything to happen. He finally could see Marty's side of the story. He had a dream and chased it. Not wanting to cause a scene or put his friends in danger, he left at night. He was going to return the next morning, and none of them would have been the wiser.
"Guys –"
Alex ignored Marty's statement. "I was in my prime, Marty! You ruined my career! You ruined my life!"
"Alex, what do you want me to –"
"Maybe you felt you could run away, I get that. You thought 'Oh! Nobody will notice if I disappear for a little while' And you were probably right, because you weren't the star!"
"Guys!" Gloria shouted.
"I was a star in the greatest city on earth!" Melman could hear Alex banging on the side of his crate. "A king! Loved by my people!" Melman could only listen in terrified silence as his friends were ripped apart, and there was nothing he could do. If Gloria couldn't keep them in line, he definitely could not. "And you ruined everything!" With his last accusation, Melman heard Alex throw his weight against the side of the crate, and the stack shifted.
"Guys!" Gloria was still trying to calm down her friends. "Let's just be civil!"
"Loved?" Marty scoffed.
"Guys, Guys!" Gloria yelled. "Quit it up there!"
"If the people loved you, it's only because they didn't know the real you!" Marty fired back, and Melman felt his own crate be knocked to the side as the zebra threw himself at Alex. The giraffe was suddenly grateful for the wooden barriers that separated them. If they were not there, this argument would certainly end in death, and it would probably be his own.
"Don't make me come up there," Gloria threatened with the authority of an angry mother, "I'll get the whoopin' on both a' y'all!"
Alex ignored her. "Well, I thought I knew the real you!" There was another bang as the lion presumably threw himself back in Marty's direction. Melman's crate rocked. Gloria's desperate shouts were in vain.
"Let – Let's just talk about this like adults!"
The constant shoving and arguing between the zebra and lion drowned out her pleas. At this point, Melman just wanted to live through this terrifying ordeal. His eardrums had undoubtedly endured some kind of damage in the shouting match. With every insult hurled back and forth, the crates physically rocked back and forth. Melman held his head with his hooves with such pressure he was certain that his skull would crack at any second.
"Oh, and your black and white stripes?" Alex continued, "They cancel each other out! You're nothing." Gloria was still yelling as she frantically tried to calm everyone down, but her words were lost in the chaos. Marty and Alex were at verbally at each other's throats. Gloria was being treated like a doormat. Everything felt cold and hot at the same time. The world was spinning and rocking and smelled faintly of fish.
Stop it.
Stop it.
Stop it.
Stop it.
Stop it.
Melman realized he was chanting the words over and over. He felt sick – physically nauseous. This was not supposed to happen. None of it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to be in Central Park, not on some boat traveling to some underfunded zoo with vets sporting invalid credentials.
Suddenly, something snapped. Melman quickly realized the crates had been strapped together by something, and the shoving had snapped the restraints. Melman's crate rocked back and forth to the point where he was certain it would tip over, and he would be plunged into the sea. Melman did not even know if he could swim.
Marty yelped in fright in unison with a series of thuds. For a moment, all was silent.
"Marty!" Alex cried, all hints of anger having evaporated from his voice. "Marty, are you okay?" There was no answer. "Oh, Marty – what have I done?"
"Chillax, Ally-al, I'm fine," Marty assured him, like everything was normal. Like their fight did not just almost result in being tossed overboard. Like they were rough housing in the exhibits at Central Park and nothing more. Like Marty probably did not have a concussion.
"Okay, well that makes one of us."
"Alex, please."
The two friends began a remarkably civil discussion. Melman allowed them their privacy, as much as he could, anyway. "Hey, Glo?" Melman ventured, shifting so that his head was near the bottom of his crate.
"What is it, Melman?" She sounded…drained. Exhausted. Unsure of the future.
"What…what is t-the last thing you remember? I mean, before you were…you know…" Maybe it wasn't the time or place, but Melman had to know. Plus, he desperately needed something to occupy his mind. Had she heard him? Was some fraction of herself still clinging to consciousness when he had uttered those three words? The ones he had been keeping bottled up inside for all of those years?
Gloria didn't answer him right away. Melman knew she was thinking. Finally, she sighed. "I dunno, Melman. I remember watching Alex get hit. I remember…I remember you catchin' me. I dunno if I said it before, but thank you, hon."
"You're welcome, Gloria," he said, once again grateful for the crates that housed them so she wouldn't see the blush that had the audacity to creep into his cheeks despite their situation. "I know you would've done the same for me…well, I hope you would've done the same for me." She laughed a little at that, and it calmed Melman's nerves – just a little.
"Melman?"
"Y-yeah?" he inquired, a new variety of nerves emerging.
"Why'd you ask?"
Melman blanked. "What?"
"Why'd you ask me what I remember?"
"Well, I was just –"
He was cut off as the ship took a sharp turn – too sharp. Suddenly, Melman's crate was on its side, and Melman was on his face. No, his back. His side. His face. His crate was rolling. Alex and Gloria let out exclamations of pain and surprise. Melman couldn't do anything. He was utterly powerless and at the mercy of physics. He heard the clinking of metal as his crate collided with something – he wasn't sure what. He scrambled to look out of a small hole in his crate. They were at the railing. The only thing keeping them from plunging into the sea was a thin metal railing that was probably not made to withstand the weight of large zoo animals.
Gloria screamed. The angle of his crate did not allow Melman to see where she was coming from. Her scream drew nearer and nearer, and Melman did not have to see her crate to know it was sliding toward them at a dangerous speed. A weight crashed into one side of his crate, and the metal railing gave way.
Suddenly, they were falling.
It was a seemingly interminable plunge.
Seconds felt like hours.
All Melman could do was brace himself for impact.
Maybe there was no ocean.
Maybe there was only abyss.
But Melman did hit the water. He hit the water hard. It was a wonder that his crate did not shatter into a million pieces. Sea water trickled in through the hole in his crate, but it did not stay submerged long enough to drown him. He stayed frozen in place, fearing that moving even a centimeter would cause his crate – his life preserver – to fill with water.
"Melman!" Gloria called from somewhere in the distance. How could they be so far apart already?
"Gloria!" He yelled back.
"Melman!" her voice was barely audible. The distance between them was already too great.
"Gloria?!" He shouted. Every ounce of his being longed to hear her voice, at least one more time.
There was no reply. He called out for Alex, and for Marty, but still, there was no reply. He would never see any of them again. Gloria would never know the truth. Had he ever bothered to tell Alex and Marty that, though they could be annoying at times, he loved them like brothers? He lost count of how many times he called out for his friends, and for the woman he loved. He called for them again and again and again until he could do so no longer.
The feeble remains of his voice fell silent, and the giraffe was alone with thoughts as dark and churning as the sea he drifted in.
This chapter was the longest one yet, and I don't know whether to say "I'm sorry" or "you're welcome." I am going to try and do better at updating regularly, but ya girl is a university student now, soo...
I'm going to start on the next one today! A new person favorited this story a couple days ago (yep, I saw you ;), and I was like "Agh" and wrote this entire thing yesterday.
Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I read reviews for motivation lol