Guzman groaned again and clutched his chest.
At long last, the girl with the big glasses and even bigger hair beside him said, "What is up with you?"
"Hi-QUOIK-ups..." He furrowed his brow and after a second his chest rose and popped harshly once more.
He buckled into his seat and looked up at the professor as his heart began to assault him.
Then Ferdinand is walking through the door and both Guzman and Ferdinand's brother Samuel are forced to look at him instead. What's he doing here? Why would they even let him on the property?
Two days ago...
Ander had been walking alone when the rabbit in the black hat approached him. This rabbit was not one who kept time. It was not late for anything. It didn't have any magic tricks. Nor was it offering him car insurance.
It was lying on the street, injured. The hat was just a little plastic headband. This creature belongs to a child, perhaps a young girl. He scooped it up in his arms and cradled it to his chest. It was the first time in a while true warmth had found him. And it was fleeting fast.
"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, tiny teacup?" He asked.
A noise echoed in an ally behind him. Where had he found himself? The dark side of the city? Really? Have I gotten myself that lost?
He couldn't just take the bunny, and it's the middle of the night. Not even a human clinic is open at this hour.
"That's mine!" Cries a gentleman with red hair and army clothes before he slips and falls over a tin trash can, "Please! Don't hurt him."
Ander furrowed a brow, "Me? Hurt him? He's already hurt and why are you hiding in the shadows at three in the morning?"
"Wha- why, why are you walking the streets at three in the morning? Aren't you a minor?" He scoffed.
Those eyebrows of Ander's popped right up, "I'm a citizen. If I want to go out excersizing in public where people can see me I can. I avoid the daylight because my parents are well known and people like to talk to me."
"This is the rough side of town. What ever are you doing here? Mr. Popular, you say." Says the gentleman with red hair.
Ander scoffs, "Why do you own such a nice rabbit."
"Frank is not nice. He's mean as fuck. Anything missing, kid?" He said stiffly.
Ander looked down to see his own wallet tucked tight in the teeth of the rabbit who seemed to be no longer injured. So much for not having to pay for warmth...
They con artists. Ripping off a new novel, something by a guy named Fabian Nickles. The gimmick of hybrid people and their hybrid pets used to cover up a secret ploy. He's a silent politician that people who don't follow politics can interpret rather decency. Even if he is colorful enough to be a modern shake-spear. I, personally, am not a fan. His work is emotional and complicated.
Ander wasn't having it. So he took his wallet back, and his class ring which was tucked inside the thick of those back left toes, before allowing the rabbit to run away to it's owner. Then he continued on his merry way.
Not five minutes later and an agonizing burn took place on his stomach. He had to stifle a scream but had to settle for a harsh whimper as he buckled down on the dirt of the lake shore behind some town houses. Lifting his shirt in the light he could see his flesh was burning. Eyes of sheer terror found the sizzling, cooking skin and then revealed the symbol of the feather.
He'd been tagged.
Looking up towards the tree line his view averted quickly to the street signs. That Samuel kid lives near here. He remembered the night of the party. The night he met Omar.
Yes, he thought, that's where I should go.
How lucky fate would have it the love interest would be out tonight. Not lucky, oh so unfortunate actually. For Omar and his antics have gotten him out in the limelight at this dreadful hour. Perhaps if he'd left the boy walking alone at night be they'd both still be on the streets. See him in the morning Omar. Tell him the truth then.
No. Now? Is it that urgent? Oh if you must. It wont be pretty Omar. I assure you. Carry on young fellow. Catch up to him. Take hold of him. When you've caught the attention of lurking cats you'll be sorry.
Here they come. By the dozen. Therefore neither of them arrive at school in the morning. People arrived from the shadows and took them just like they did Carla. Now they're gone and what's there to do? If you're Polo... you just might have the capability to save them. Oh Polo, your visions do haunt you...
There just outside the jungle's morning. He's walking through a rather lovely village filled so much with the agony of an severed teather. The ocean comes in here. You can look out from the sidewalk at the small jut in the valleys. He meanders along attempting to piece together how he got here when this purple guy is leaping along banisters and jumping from window umbrella to window umbrella the way an excited pet monkey does on the way to business. Polo just follows along, almost like he's been drinking. He knows he hasn't but his mind carries him along that route any how.
Passing palm trees and patient local people he finds himself in the market. It's alive with customers and jingling change, the smell of fresh hot food and the festival music he likes so much but it's all unhappy because Carla isn't here. Not only is Carla not here but neither is that fellow Christian he'd grown so fond of. Christian is a boy who is full of life and Polo wants to taste it all but there is no Christian if there is no Carla and there is no Carla so he is alone without his favorite people in the world and it's all just awful.
Then they're passing beneath a tent and he's just walked into the after hours of a circus where some of the attractions stand in small rooms around the entrance and entice the onlookers who consider buying tickets for the next show. The purple fellow leads him right into the main show room, behind the stage, and out to a small parkinglot where the trailers are all parked.
His people... the purple guy...
There are others here, creatures like the purple guy Polo is supposed to meet but soon he's swept off his feet and pulled into the heart clenching, lung crushing, kidney squeezing pains of another vision...
Let's draw a card...
The jack of clubs accompanies the heart of fives. Jack is a typical name for a main character and the clubs is fitting for it feels almost like home base for us. The number is Omar and his agony is that which we fall into.
One more card for the direction of the vision; the queen of diamonds.
A woman. Dear god, this has just become the movie hostle and I don't like it one bit. Still, the story must continue. As much as I like Omar this will not be pretty. He and Ander are a great love. Not the best but oh so dear to even my dark little heart.
She's doing this for money. Grande, Ariana. The one and only.
How does a Celebrity get their fame? By being Cat Valentine in Hollywood Arts and then changing up the game by hitting them with a side to side. By undergoing torture. By being tested.
This is her latest test. She wants the world to love her. If they stop she loses everything. She lives in a glass house but not here. In here, where they select you, she's got privacy sometimes. Other times, like now, she's got an entire audience in the peanut gallery. She's in a competition. Someone else wants her role. Needs her role to survive. Three guesses who.
So what's poor Omar got to do with this? Why... he's gotta suffer so she can succeed.
I'd skip the theatrics and slide you to the side with a simple explanation of how she cut him a few times and ended his life but he didn't get off that easy so why should we? Weapon of choice? For her? Oh you know it's the cat of nine tails.
A grizzly tool complete with teeth to lock onto that which they find and hold on tight. So it's not a couple of cuts it's themed to music. So exciting right? What song are they playing? The same song he remembers playing when he refused to kiss that pretty rich boy at Samuel's party. He knows he's about to die. He knows it will hurt. What angers him the most is his inability to help Ander.
A rage sets in him. Like ice or steel when her whip strikes him the teeth slide right off. Bazaar. She tries again. Still, there's nothing.
Setting down the tool she walks over to him strapped down to the concrete X hoisted up in the center of the room for all those behind the glass to see. She pulls up his shirt and sees that not even a lash has affected him. Oh no. This isn't good. How humiliating for her. The project isn't working. Perhaps this other girl will steal the show after all.
"What are you that you do not take the lash?" She whispers to him.
He raises his head to look back at her, stomach pressed to the slab, and says, "I am Omar. The Arabiac name for Long-lived. I might be a homosexual but my God knows my heart. Therefore nothing you do will hurt me."
The vision is severed and Polo rolls out onto the grass to look up at the sky. Cold chills ache across his skin. His flesh feels heavy. Soon his eyes drift deeply and he's overcome by something much more impairing than sleep. A sickness. One that will have him in sleep for days. So as a human like creature with antlers pours recipe down his lips for healing the show goes on. The last one of their time here in the village. They must move on and Polo will travel with them.
Next stop... the same place as the latest social studies field-trip. The professor and Ferdinand both agreed, much to Guzman and Samuel's horror, that this Friday with parental permission they'd all be going to Hollywood California. An excellent way, they decided, to learn more about the self in a way that's lived out on the screen. A bus ride's founding generously provided by the worried and woeful celebrity parents who'd daughter never came home last night...
