Chapter 9: I Spy

The telescope shook in Flaky's hand as she lowered it from her eye. She almost couldn't believe it.

She didn't go near danger. She knew how bad things could get in a single second, so she preferred to observe from a safe distance.

For awhile now she'd been skulking around town on her scooter and was firmly convinced something was up. It seemed to come down to a book that Flippy had. He tended to react very strangely to it.

She observed that, as with her own near-death experience, he seemed to know when things would go wrong and where. She didn't have to be an intellectual to see the pattern of Flippy consulting that book and spiriting off to help someone. There were no logical explanations or mathematical calculations that could explain how precise his movements were.

Now, she believed in the supernatural and thought it had many avenues of perplexion, but those sort of things mostly confused and intimidated her.

Well—plenty of things intimidated her. But things she didn't fully understand or conceptualize irritated her anxiety and she rarely felt the need to seek to understand. She wouldn't even touch things like magic eight balls.

Still, of all things in the world, a book that predicted the future?

She had a lot of mixed feelings. It just may have saved her life, after all. And it was animated, which freaked her out the most. She'd caught it moving at some points, doing things like hovering and flipping pages on its own. She was stuck between wanting to know more and pretending she hadn't noticed anything. She also wasn't sure if she wanted to get near Flippy.

He made her feel weird and she couldn't place her feelings about him for some reason. Depending on the day, she could either be at ease or barely tolerate being near him. She thought he was one of her more reasonable and laid-back friends.

As she sat parked in the bushes, she made a bit of connection. He was very sociable, yet modest about his privacy. She really didn't know him as well as the others. Maybe that was it, but a dark feeling lingered at the back of her mind. She began to wonder if she was paranoid thinking he was reclusive because he wanted hide something he didn't want others to see. Something physical, or a different side of himself the public never saw.

If that was the case...well, there went her nerves getting on edge again. There could be one to a million things to hide and she wasn't going to randomly go up to him and inquire. Animals could get very defensive about what they wanted to keep hidden and she didn't want to become another statistic.

She bit at her fingertips. No, no that was wrong of her to think. He wouldn't murder her for being nosy. That was ridiculous. They were friends...

What was that feeling, irking her? How was it so vague, but potent? It was the same dark feeling that lingered after she'd awoken from nightmares, which she had constantly. And they were so bloody and chaotic, often featuring her and her friends. She'd woken up so many times feeling as though she'd been murdered in her sleep. It wasn't as if she watched scary or violent movies...from where did her subconscious pull such vivid imagery?

Flaky realized she'd zoned out for too long and quickly pulled the telescope up to her eye. Lifty and Shifty were tied to a streetlamp, cursing and struggling, but their van and Flippy…were gone!

She ducked low in fright, darting her eyes. That was another thing. She did not like how fast he could move. It was almost like he could teleport.

What was she going to do? Going home and hiding under the covers was an option, but, but...

She pulled at her eyes, feeling like her anxiety-fueled-curiosity would drive her crazy and eventually, into an early grave. She knew she was likely about to enter into another nightmare, this one waking.

…maybe she could stay back, just for a little while longer. She had all the time in the world.

It took her ten more minutes to gather the slightest bit of courage. She hardly gave the two thieves another glance, peering around cautiously before shooting off on her scooter.

Flippy now knew the schedule, more intimately at least. Within the Book of the World, the Bookworm had penned down the time of day concerning the fate of each animal. There were fewer lives in danger and he didn't feel as frantic, but he couldn't get lax.

And he could no longer skim like he had been doing. Flippy was still angry at himself for nearly losing Toothy. Then just by trying to hurry and correct his own error, the poor beaver ended up losing his tail. With modern medicine limbs could be reattached, but still.

Soon after he'd rescued the Book of the World from the van, he'd intuitively gone to the twins' page. Before then he hadn't given their section a second glance, but he'd caught what'd been written before it vanished.

Interestingly their deaths wouldn't have been caused by a questionable figure of the law. They would have been caused by each other.

Flippy found out they would've started to bicker about who owned more of their spoils (his stuff, obviously) and would've gotten into a long-lasting, violent and gory battle to the death. Sibling relationships could be so turbulent.

There were so many other factors at play too, but it ended up coming down to Splendid almost causing their deaths prematurely. Flippy had to rewire a mild assumption in his mind; no one was impervious to unwritten danger, the kind of danger that was everywhere day-to-day, spontaneous, and universal. Now, Flippy actually felt a little spoiled with the Book of the World.

You can't stop danger from every direction. How could someone live normally with no risk in their lives?

He knew it was impossible and irrational. He still wanted his friends to be safe on all ends. When he voiced his thoughts to the Book it ruffled its pages like it was laughing.

Oh, you're too adorable. You'll make yourself sick with worry thinking like that, the Book told him. My authors understood things like that to a greater degree. Of course that's because they had the direct means to alter reality in any way they wanted and could bounce ideas and concepts off one another.

…uh.

I wouldn't be able to offer any advice to you. Mainly because I'm only a vessel. They didn't treat me as a diary.

Still, just remember that like you, they are not omnipotent.

"Aren't you stronger than them?"

The Book hesitated.

Well...I guess. But I was heavily dependent on them. I'm close to useless on my own.

The authors' dictation is born from their quills and my own pages. Two things together that create the influential cause-and-effect you've witnessed. One cannot create without the other.

But obviously, as you've also seen, things prevented in real time are not recorded permanently. That's by design. You saw this from Lifty and Shifty's page. Once a possibility is lost, the words are erased.

Writers pen down things, but some things are never used—whether intentionally or not. That's called drafting.

And you, Sugar Bear, I'd say you've been quite a fair and responsible drafter. That's all the strength you choose to have. So, don't worry about things you're not ready to cope with. Don't feel obligated to do more than what you can ever handle. But...

…do you think you can take hearing a secret of mine?

Flippy wrinkled his mouth with a groan. Not now.

His head hurt too much for anymore hard knowledge. He had to get back to putting his things in proper order anyway.

Before getting back to work he compulsively double checked times. There was a good hour between now and the next victim, Lamby, who was currently going door-to-door selling Girl Scout cookies.

Ooh! Then after her, he actually had several more hours of peace! That sounded good to him.

Whistling, he unloaded all of his stuff from Lifty and Shifty's van and then drove it into the nearest car compactor. On the walk back home he felt a funny tingle on the back of his neck and kept shifting his eyes around. He tried to be vigilant, not paranoid, but it really felt like he was being watched.

To his surprise, other than some of his plaques and medals being a little scratched, nothing had been broken. While the minutes ticked by in the dozen he fixed his house back up, sanitizing his things and setting them back into place.

The Book of the World began acting funny. It kept surreptitiously moving about the house, surprising him the first few times he turned and found it nearby. It remained silent when he tried talking to it.

Flippy found that he wasn't unsettled. Maybe he was getting used to it being so clingy?

Tcklttt-clk clk! Tcklttt-clk clk!

Later as he was wrenching a tire back on his truck, Flippy glanced up. Yep, there the Book was, now sitting on his worktable. "Why did you let them take you?" he asked. The Book finally answered him.

I'm a book, not some fairytale princess. Besides, I knew you'd come rescue me. I have to keep up the ruse that I'm inanimate to the others. People, er I mean, animals would go crazy over a book that could talk to them!

You didn't, though. And I trust you.

"Oh, well…"

I mean, I don't think you have bad intents.

And I'm seeing you haven't realized…you have The Man's quill?

Flippy distractedly rummaged in his toolbox for another lug nut. "Hm?"

One of those raccoons tried writing on my brainstorming page. It didn't work. I rejected the ink like how a mare rejects a stallion, The Book answered. No other writing utensil works on my pages except for the four owned by my authors. You have one of them, dummy.

"Oh, right," Flippy answered sheepishly. He also remembered snapping it.

Yes, yes and I know you broke it. It's been broken hundreds of times, mostly on purpose. You saw how easy it was to piss off Stan. It's fixed itself by now and is somewhere in the house. It probably got kicked around with all of that nonsense earlier.

"Okay."

…

Oh, for…what were we talking about earlier?

What are the only two physical objects that can influence what happens in your reality when they're brought together?

Myself. Check.

A supernatural writing utensil? Check.

Your inventory is DOUBLE CHECKED.

The lug wrench clanged to the floor. His hands were beginning to tingle.

Not to mention, you ate Stan. Take his place! I can dig it. The Book said, twitching its pages. You can be the only author I would ever want or need. And that can be our little secret.

"…no."

The Book went rigid with shock.

"No," Flippy heaved out.

WHAAAAAAT!? it yelled, rocketing into his face. Are you HEARING yourself right now?! Don't you realize what this can mean for you?

You have an advantage over the other authors. They don't have me and don't know where I am!

…I think.

And you could do what they did! Weren't you concerned about keeping danger away from your friends? You have the realest chance at doing that now! They don't ever have to know it's you authoring the fate of their lives!

Why are you shaking your head?! You've changed your mind? Why?

Tell me why!

Flippy pushed the Book out of his face. "I don't know."

Don't you trust yourself? Do you think you won't be responsible with that sort of power in your hands? Is that it?!

If that's the case, it's okay! Every beginning writer has those same fears.

Flippy muttered something that was almost drowned out by the sound of his doorbell. The Book followed him as he left the garage, saying, Alright, fine, not every beginner can literally write things into existence. But you'll do fine!

"No, I won't."

Please?

"NO."

Stop for a moment! Just listen!

"I said—"

The Book suddenly blocked his way, opening its pages with words that froze him in place:

I.

SAID.

STOP.

Flippy had stopped, nearly everything. Moving, breathing, thinking. He barely managed to ask, "Why?"

The Book's pages fluttered in invisible wind. New letters twitched and jerked on the page.

bEcAUse I SAiD sO

ThE bOth oF Us BeLOng tOgEtheR

There was no reason for him to be as terrified as he was...

He felt the same way he had recently, when he'd been forced to bring a knife to his own throat…terror and fear of the immediate unknown.

His doorbell rang again. The scary moment ended and the Book of the World casually turned another page.

…sorry.

I'm just saying…think about it? Please?

Wouldn't I know who'd be best to take care of me?

Flippy said nothing, watching Book with wide eyes as he sidled around it. It followed and pleaded with him up to the moment he raised his hand to the doorknob, whereupon it irritably flung itself onto the couch.

Lamby shyly greeted him at the door with a cute smile. He was awkward and nervous himself for two reasons—one, for some reason she had a pickle on her shoulder.

Two, he could feel the Book of the World 'glaring' at him. It was almost like he was being held hostage at his own door.

His stomach rumbled. He felt like he could take ten boxes of Cherry Creampies off her hands. She was selling cookies on a discount and the total came out to six dollars and ninety cents. She giggled to herself as they exchanged the money and goods.

Before she could leave he stopped her, warning her not to go to the dilapidated house several streets down. He told her it was because there was a family of rabid tax collectors squatting there. If he learned anything from the Book of the World, it was that Lamby's worst fear was the insurrection of big government.

But the real reason was because if she'd just gone up to knock on the door, part of the rotting frame would've collapsed and knocked her brains out. Plain and simple.

Still, she seemed terrified enough to listen, and that was what mattered! He felt content as he waved her off.

After he poured himself a tall glass of milk, Flippy poked his head out to scan his living room. The Book of the World was gone. He found it lying on his office desk with its spine to the door. If it had a body, it likely would've had its arms crossed with its back to him.

Well, earlier, it had acted unhinged out of nowhere. Giving it space was probably the best option for now.

Flippy felt pretty unburdened as he hopped in his armchair with his milk and cookies. He had a few hours of rest! But it was weird. He still kind of felt like someone was watching him.

It was fall, and getting colder by the day. In the latter part of the year Flippy dozed off easier, slept harder, and stayed asleep longer. And although he had a good metabolism, he had to watch his weight because he tended to eat a lot more.

His biology, mixed with the fact that he had a belly full of milk and cookies, meant he may've ended up sleeping too long.

The sun was halfway on its trip down the horizon when Flippy was rudely awakened by The Book of the World. It knocked him about his head, making sure to use its sharp corners. The bear grouchily swatted at it.

Hey hey hey! The Book snapped. You're the one who's lousing things up. Get up, get up! We're going to miss our window of time!

Check this out, you bozo!

It flew out of the way, allowing him to see the time on the digital clock. As he gasped the Book continued, Didn't you think of setting an alarm for us? Books like myself have to sleep too, you know!

Flippy almost fell out of his chair, disoriented. Who was next? Lamby? No, she was earlier.

And where? He couldn't remember where.

The park, the Book told him. The park! We've got to go NOW! And get ready to hoof it, because you didn't finish putting your tires back on your truck!

Flippy swore. If he had to run, he didn't want to be fumbling around with the Book of the World. He had a feeling it wouldn't be upset by what he had in mind. He rushed to his closet, digging until he found a harness, and pulled it on.

The Book of the World was twittering around his head. It let out a giggle when he grabbed it.

He checked the time, and knew the distance—he—well, they were running too close behind for comfort. He strapped the book to his back and barged out the front door. They could make it there in ten minutes if he—

"Whoa!"

For who knew what reason, he found Flaky draped up against his mailbox. Her scooter was parked nearby. She had a whole setup going, with some snacks and a mounted telescope aimed at his house. When he peered through it he could see his armchair and a ton of empty cookie boxes.

Well, that was embarrassing. To make things weirder, it looked like she'd simply just passed out on the spot.

Confused, he shook her awake and had to endure her loud squeal of embarrassment.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked. She stumbled up and away from him, blathering about studying for a chemistry test and needing to go feed her pet hamsters. In a flash she was all packed up, leaving a flame trail on the sidewalk as she zoomed off.

Flippy stared after her, lost. The Book quivered against his back.

She's acting coo-coo, it said when he pulled it out. Maybe you should ask her why.

Well, not now. They had several disasters to prevent!

The Park

The day was winding down for Sniffles. After playing a few rounds of paintball with his friends earlier, he'd been approached with an interesting request.

His hiring man was Pop, who specifically wanted a robotic baby sitter for his son. There was some mention about other animals running away or making excuses when he came to them about babysitting Cub, but Sniffles hadn't really heard much after, '"Can you please do this for me?"'

He'd dropped everything and rushed home for a few hours to work on the project. Pop seemed to expect quick results so the anteater just refurbished one of his older pet projects into something new.

He'd turned his old Aquatic Death Robot, the Thresher Mk 48, into an undeniably safe caretaker: the PeeDiBot!

There was one problem, though. Cub was sitting in a nearby flower patch distracted with the butterflies and his father was asleep on the park bench with a lit pipe in hand.

Sniffles was getting impatient. He wasn't expecting to be paid but his hiring man could've at least stayed awake for the presentation.

"Okay, you ready?" Sniffles asked Cub, then snatched the blanket off his creation.

PDBot Thresher had an array of physical features, possessing an angular and shark-like appearance with pointy digits, a fierce red-and-yellow color scheme, and smooth chrome finish. It had several weapons that were entirely safe: a rotating hand buzzsaw, an electroshock ray, and a torpedo launcher-turned-loofa sponge-gun.

There might've been other weapons or features Sniffles added, but he couldn't recall them all at the moment.

The presentation went off with a hitch. PDBot Thresher had fun with Cub on the swings, in the sandbox, and even played a few games of T-Ball with him. Passerby and friends alike stopped and gave the modest anteater their kudos.

Things go wrong. They always do.

It's how it's been written.

Flippy couldn't stop thinking that as he spied from the bushes.

The Book of the World said, Hey, what's with you? You're never normally that negative.

"Huh?"

You've been muttering to yourself over there. And, well, scratch the negative part. Things can sound negative when they're put frankly, can't they?

Flippy grimaced. The entire thing was starting to get to him more than he would like. He already knew what was coming but couldn't calm his heart.

The damn robot was going to act up somehow and attempt to murder its creator. Flippy still didn't want to charge out of nowhere and bust the thing to pieces. He'd look absolutely crazy, and even crazier with his explanation.

And now, he finally realized, the Book of the World was next to him in the bushes, 'watching' with him.

"You need to stay put..." Flippy muttered.

What? Why? it responded. No one else is around.

Someone loudly cleared their throat. Flippy quickly snatched the Book and put it away.

It looked like Disco Bear hadn't noticed the book floating in the bushes, though. Flippy almost cringed. Some animals just didn't belong in tight-fitting tracksuits.

The older bear wanted to know what he was doing in the bushes. In Disco Bear's eyes, Flippy looked like a creep for spying on Sniffles and Cub. The veteran vehemently explained his distrust of the robot.

Disco Bear relaxed on his initial assumption. He also hadn't liked the looks of PDBot, but he was old-fashioned with a bad back, so that may've had something to do with it.

For a few minutes both bears watched PDBot closely. Flippy was actually glad to have some help…until Disco Bear got distracted, wolf whistling at someone coming down the sidewalk.

Flippy double-taked. There was Giggles, with Petunia! He was relieved to see the latter was alright.

Was this the first time he'd seen any of his friends post-potential disaster? Petunia seemed to be in a fair mood after what had happened earlier.

Of course she's fine. They all are.

You worry too much. Try looking on the bright side.

Flippy zoned out. Wait, what was that?

He had just heard a voice, quieter than a whisper, float between his ears. The Book of the World was lying motionless on his back. He thought it had been the one speaking just then…but through his mind?

In the distance, Sniffles screamed bloody murder. Flippy bristled in shock.

Son of a gun! He'd gotten distracted with the voices in his head again!