Chapter Twenty-Nine: Cross My Heart

Once their cries had softened, Moreau could sense Joy shivering. Gradually, he descended his large and broad head to a snowless patch of ground.

Within the massive maw, the mutated man released his hold of his friend. With a bony index finger, he articulated to stand in the mid-morning warm air to dry her soppy apparel. Moreau's smile deepened. It made sense for the sun to make its miraculous debut in this cursed forest... which didn't seem so cursed now.

After the small, sensitive ears of the young woman stopped ringing from the previous, engulfing roars, she carefully backed out of the whale-size jaws. However, she kept her word; she would not let go. With palms tightly connected, Joy knelt right in front of the gigantic form.

This was the most calm that Moreau had ever felt in this insufferable, transformed body. He regarded Joy in stunned awe. This was happening. She was still here... with him.

"Ummm... Is Mo alright?"

The soft and chipper tone broke the colorless man's silent trance, and he flittered his thin lids.

"Yes... yes, I'm all right, Joy. But..." he idly stared at the big, jagged molars encircling him. "I, I could've killed you."

The woman's cheeks and bottom eyelids raised from her smile.

"But ya didn't."

Moreau returned the beam. Not frowning as his hated-self was still so strange. But it finally felt... natural to do so. His friend was correct. He had control again!

The pair quietly continued to hold hands, and the bluebirds in nearby trees added harmony to the tranquil atmosphere. Moreau had not once, perceived singing avians while in this metamorphosed state. They had always distanced themselves or stayed stock-still, concealed in the canopy of trees. But currently, the feathered little beings sounded relaxed and happy.

Just like how he was feeling.

Joy turned her view to the curled, finned tail and she giggled admirably.

"Mo's truly a merman."

After blinking shyly, the man's curved, mouth-line slackened.

"Why?"

Joy tilted her head. "Why what?"

"Why didn't Joy run away from me? I'm a monster-"

"No," demurred the sincere interjection. "You're a pollywo- just a big ol' cute fishy named Mo!"

The tittering woman grinned as Moreau gurgled robustly, his tailfin slapping the leftover snow, reverberating the ground from its heft.

Laughing gleefully with someone. Again, another phenomenon for the giant, mixed mutant.

The light-heartedness faded for Moreau detected the sun's hotness over his numerous large eyes. He was relieved that his friend was no longer chilled, however, the drying sensation over his grayish, amphibious hide was not at all pleasant.

Joy heard the heavy jaded groan. "What's da matter, Mo?"

"I must go in the water soon."

"Hmmm... Are ya sure your legs aren't hiding somewhere?"

Moreau closed his white eyes. "There are no legs to hide..."

Still clasped to her friend, the young woman stood on her knees. Her eyes studied the spiny back to confirm there was just a torso with the rest of the pale, skeletal body ending into some kind of viscus muscle that traveled down the vast gullet. And what she could tell, this appeared to be a very unbearable way to live.

"Does it hurt?"

Moreau emitted a dull but loud drone.

"Not as much as everything else."

Joy squatted again and squeezed her hands a little tighter, triggering her friend to do the same.

"Mo... have ya been a big fishy before?"

"Yes. Many, many... ugh... many times."

"Welp, dat's good, right?" the woman asked hopefully. "It means ya can turn inta a part-merman again!"

Moreau hung his head, causing his friend's optimism to vanish.

"Before now... it was becoming hard to be me again. I've been trying, but I can't change back."

The woman slanted her sympathetic gaze. "Was Mo always dis way? Turning inta a big fishy?"

Moreau raised his sad sights. "I... I used to be a whole person... Not part-merman."

Auburn lashes fluttered rapidly. "Really? How did'ja become a part-merman?"

Both the creature and mutated man averted their eyes as whimpers rumbled in the air. Joy gently tugged at his hands, quieting his trembling.

"I'm sorry, Mo. Ya don't have ta answer if ya don't wanna."

"Mother Miranda."

Joy blinked once. "Oh, your mom's a mermaid?"

The man slowly swung his head. "N-no... Mother gave me the... cadou."

"Bless you!"

"Huh?"

"Didn't ya just sneeze?"

Following a few big blinks, Moreau chuckled briefly.

"Cadou is a gift from Mother. I have... it now."

"Oh." Joy looked around. "Where is... it?"

Skimming over a noticeable shoulder blade, Moreau peered up as did his friend, though she wasn't certain what they were observing. Following several, silent seconds, he refocused on the awaiting, young woman.

"It's inside of me."

"Oh... you ate da present?"

"N-no... ...Mother cut me open and put the cadou in my back."

Joy jerked in place. "Wh-What? Is Mother Miranda a doctor, too?"

Moreau glanced at their latched hands to help keep his composure. His friend had used the present tense. And it distressed him to consider that it might need a correction.

"...Yes," was the delayed reply. "But the kind who studies sick peoples."

Joy hummed to herself, puckering her lower lip.

"Do ya mean a scientist?"

"Yes, yes, I do." A light beam revisited Moreau's withered features. "Joy's smart."

The woman's mouth-line upturned shyly, and her concern and curiosity returned.

"My mom said scientists like ta find out things ta help people. Did Mother Miranda give you da... um... cadou 'cause Mo was sick?"

The mutated man made a somber shake of the head.

"Mother didn't give Mo the cadou for Mo... She gave it to me for her special child."

Joy's eyebrows furrowed as her bottom lids arose.

"What is a cadou, Mo?"

"I'm not sure... She made it so she could get her baby back."

Joy quietly canted her head as her friend went on.

"Mother wanted to see if I was a vessel. I wanted to make her proud, so I obeyed."

"Ummm... okay," Joy commented, thinking 'vessel' was some sort of a doctor's term. "But aren't you, her baby, too?"

Moreau repressed a whine. It took a bit of time for him to clear his huge windpipe.

"I-I... I don't think so..."

"Oh," responded Joy softly. "Were ya adopted? Dat still makes ya part'a da family."

The man sadly gazed at her yearningly, and then his thin neck shrank.

"When I wasn't a vessel for Mother's baby, I had hopeded that she would lov- accept me anyway. ...But the cadou made me sick, so Mother gave me more."

The woman was gobsmacked at hearing that clarification.

"Oh my goodness, why?!"

Moreau shrugged his misaligned shoulders.

"To see if more would work..? To see how many a person could have..? I... don't know... I just... don't know."

Joy flashbacked to her friend crying out in pain. He'd said it was from 'Mama's gift.' Why would a mother, gift her child something that hurts them? Joy licked her lips. Despite just being submerged in the lake, her mouth felt very parched.

"Mo? How many cadou are in ya?"

"One."

"Huh? But I thought ya said your mom gave ya more."

"She did. But... I can't feel the others inside me anymore. The one in my back is much bigger now. I think it ate the other three."

Joy's rosy lips parted wide open; analogous to the big maw containing the silent man holding her hands. What on this flat world was this cadou?! Mother Miranda sounded like a mad scientist from one of the action movies she and her Mama Bear had seen!

Closing her mouth, the young woman shut her eyes, again, remembering when Moreau first began to lose control. She listened to the lengthy tendrils whirling above, which presently, sounded more passive, but yet... still agitated.

At length, she reopened her caring gaze.

"Mo... are da snake thingys from da cadou?"

The whitish mutant stared profoundly. "Y-Yes... How does Joy know?"

Joy lifted her shoulders briefly. "I don't think da cadou liked it very much when I tried ta help ya before you turned inta da big fishy."

Moreau nodded with amazement over the super-duper smartness of his best friend, who by the looks of the jutting bottom lip, was pondering again.

"Mo, have ya ever asked your mom for da cadou?"

The mutated man sighed. "No... I never wanted it or to be a big fishy."

Joy droned lightly. "I know Mother Miranda's your mom, but dat still doesn't make it very nice ta do dat ta ya."

Moreau's lumpy, square jaw quivered as the creature warbled; the plethora of lidless eyes above them glistened with dejection.

"And, and, and now... Mo's too big to go through the door of our lodge! So, so, so I can't be with my bestie anymore!"

Ignoring the booming wails around her, on wet knees, the woman scooted even closer to her lamenting friend.

"It's alright, Mo!" She rubbed his bony knuckles. "We can stay besties, remember?! Ya can live on our beach and swim in da ocean!"

Flittering away tears, Moreau's sniveling waned.

"R-Really?"

Joy bobbed her head. "Really, really!"

"But... how would I get to... uhhhhh..." The man racked his transmuted mind. "Cally... Calaform... Californie..."

"California!"

"Right... California. ...Tricky word."

"Thank you!"

The best friends beamed contently. Wiggling her toes, Joy idly stared up at the drifting clouds.

"Mo could ride on a big plane."

Raking around himself then to his friend, Moreau sloped his head in perplexity.

"Ummm..." Joy scrunched her lips. "Maybe a really big plane?"

Moreau respired heavily. "Even if I could fit in a plane..." His expression fell. "...other peoples would be afraid of me."

Joy held up her small chin. "Well, I'm not!"

The mutated man's once evasive smile resurfaced once more. How could it not after hearing the commitment of his mirific, precious person?

The mulling young woman hummed. "Maybe... two really big planes?"

Her pink tongue slipped back into her mouth with a little huff. She looked back at her friend, giving him a curt nod.

"Don't worry, Mo. We'll figure it out."

Within that minute, Moreau gasped, fluttering his lash-less lids.

"That's it!"

"Well," began Joy, "I'm not really sure if da two planes would work... Maybe if we get a giant hammock with lots'a rope..."

"No-No!" The mutant marched his big claws up and down. "It... ...out ...it out!"

The statement was an inflection of piecing thoughts together. Narrowing an eye, Joy's other brow arched, practically reaching her deep red hairline.

"I'm sorry, Mo... I don't get it."

Moreau halted his irritated, drying body from wriggling.

"I must go in the lake for a while. But I... I need to ask Joy to go back to our lodge."

The woman pressed their joined palms and moaned softly.

"But Mo! I promised..."

This time, Moreau's thin thumbs rubbed her small knuckles.

"Not go away... But to bring something back."

"Oohh." Joy glimpsed worriedly at her friend's visible ribcage. "Is Mo hungry?"

Although the creature's vast stomach was loudly answering that inquiry, the mutated man shook his head. Their entire pantry would be devoured in one gulp.

"Uhh, n-no. There's something else that I need. I'll also need more of Joy's help. ...It'll be scary and..." The deep tone was laced with hesitancy. "...and I don't think Joy will like it..."

The young woman blinked slowly in contemplation. "Will dis stop Mo from being a big fishy?"

Moreau mutely swallowed. He was neither fond nor positive about this notion himself. However, this attempt was pivotal if they were to remain besties forever.

"I'm not sure, but it's the only way..." He drew in the small hands. "Please, please! Can Joy promise to do this for Mo?"

Joy discerned her best friend's pleading, pupil-less eyes and pale pout. Yet, there was fear behind the aged complexion. Nevertheless, if this would fix her bestie, then so be it!

Not wishing to unlock their hands, Joy dipped her head and moved her chin diagonally as if she were tracing an X atop her bosom.

"Cross my heart."

With trust, the woman closed her eyes and eased forward, pressing her small forehead onto the broad, whitish one. Moreau couldn't fathom what that response meant, but the answer was clear by the beloved, fluttering of lush lashes and soft skin. As he allowed his eyelids to slide down, the creature exhaled, gusting the damp, medium-length hair of his dearest friend.

Albeit, the beast of the lake was insecure over this newfound intuition, his hindsight, however, reminded him that with his precious person at the helm, there was faith to hold.

After all, those warm, fair hands did not let go of his cold, pale palms. Not once.