My, my, but Myreka doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into this time. Look at her, watch her, as she taps her feet along the pavement, one foot in front of the other like a merry schoolgirl, on her way to a class about baking or puppies or something otherwise pleasant. Ah, but Myreka is not on her way to learn about baby canines or pastries at all! She’s skipping, tapping, jolly-go-getting, straight down into a grave. My, my, you’re thinking, but that did escalate so quickly! No, pigeon, the story didn’t escalate, it de-escalated; it went right down along with Myreka and her bouncy pink braids. She has that basket in her hand. And what else could be in the basket but treats? Goodies? Snacks and delicious food slices? Oh yes, Myreka likes to eat. You can tell, can’t you? She has the whole energy of a gobbler. I think all the sweets have gone to her head. She’s dyed in pink and braided it down the middle and now she looks like a strawberry top! It’s bizarre, is what it is. What a strange girl you are, Myreka. What a very oddball. Look at her now! She’s running along the path and the basket is joggling along beside her, but ha! Now what, now what? She’s fallen.
Myreka’s down, Myreka’s on the ground, Myreka can’t see because the basket handle has gone through her left eye and oh, she is making such loud noises. It must be painful to be human. Then again, I wouldn’t know, not personally. Myreka’s trying to sit up, but a branch snags on her pants and pulls her back down and there she is like a turtle on its back, wallowing and waiting for someone to drive along and run it over or flip it, be the final straw in a death or the first move to recovery. As for me, well, well, I shall be neither. Myreka has two trails of wet tears sliding down her face and I of course laugh to think of all the little parasites and germs rolling down those mini waterfalls, slipping down a lazy river of supreme displeasure on Myreka's behalf. What joy! Pain of one brings delight to another, at the end of things. Is this the end of things? Oh, but no, it is only the beginning, if you’re looking from where I am, and that you are, whether you like to or not. You do like it, though, I know you do.
Two, three, four cars go by and no one stops to help Myreka and that is because they cannot see her and that is because of the little magical curtain I’ve thrown around her and her basket of delightful snacking devices. Well, don’t you give me that look, you daft duck-o, I have to do what I have to do! It’s my job. And you, for one, decided you’d come along with me. So hush, would you, and stop moving your hands. It’s not a fun date if you keep interrupting me. Ah, well, where was I? You distracted. Rude, rude. Oh, Myreka, yes. She’s there, you see her, and she’s crying and weeping and oh you might as well just chuck a synonym book for being sad at her head and call it a day.
Stay here, would you? I’m going to go get her.
“Myreka!” She can’t see me quite yet, so she is in a state of supreme confusion. She seems like a frog drifting from a puddle, no, a lilypad. So lost, so delicate, and so mine. Well, ours, if you want to share. I’ve never been a stingy creature. I like to share and especially with you. Oh, don’t get me distracted again! It’s a wonder I’m able to focus at all. For the love of spice and cakes and lime, close your mouth. I know it’s a bit of a shock at first, but you’ll get used to it, I promise. Do you know what Myreka in my arms feels like? Heavy, and she smells like, -oh, let me give a listen- she smells like bananas and crumpled at the bottom of a soup can dollars, the worn kind with rips and tears and rubs from so many hands, so many years and places. That kind of money is the best money. I don’t know why, I don’t have any real use for that kind of currency. No, as you know by now, I deal in something much, much more valuable.
Myreka is squirmy and I hand her to you but, being not a Scout of Boy variety, you are not prepared. You drop her and she howls and I kick your shins and, now what? I do say, don’t look so alarmed. You know I have to narrate things like this, or else you won’t understand. No, I know, it’s all very confusing for you. Aw, hush. Yes. I love you, too. We can go bowling on, like, Friday, or something. I’m doing my best to keep you company and yes I also know you are upset because last week, it wasn’t Myreka, it was Gimelda, and Gimelda was indeed your grandmother. I apologized. She smelled like adult diapers and sofa perfume. I said I was sorry and I brought you that lovely, oh so very soft horse. What did you call it? Unicorn? Well. See? I am nice. I do love you. Now. Hold this body, please, while I get the car started. Is Myreka awake? Hm. Tell her, then, that Mummy and Mailman are taking her to the store to buy a lollipop, that ought to keep her quiet. What do you mean, her parents aren’t called Mummy and Mailman? She looks just like the both of them! My, my, don’t be silly. Just hop in the trunk, would you? I left a sandwich there for you. I bought it from that place you’re always chattering about. Mm hm. I do listen.
Myreka, Myreka, my, my, you reek-a-salami and cheese, and shut the door please, I don’t want to smell you, but I’ve got to tell you, things are ending up to be so fun, one more minute, and then we’ll be there. Don’t you love my singing? It’s perfect. I inherited it from my mother and her uncle Horticulture before me. You can turn the radio if you’d like, I’m concentrating on the road. So many other cars out here, so many dumb humans swerving around like they have somewhere to be. And they do, of course, but it’s not as important as it is for me.
Check her teeth, would you?
I know you don’t like to, but listen, it’s the main part of the job and I can’t bring her back if she’s got a mouthful of-
Yes. Well. Good grief and bad morning, I’ll do it myself. Let me pull around the bend and, no! I’m not actually pulling the car around. I have this appointment and I can’t be late and I’m awfully sorry I’m so worked up about this but it really is terribly worrying when I don’t know if I can do this again and again the rest of my, well then, not quite a life. Do you know? Do you realize what it’s like to not be sure of anything? Your biggest worry is probably what cereal to pour into your orange juice, what deli meat to have with you ice cream, what soup to dip your cotton in. And me? Oh, me. Maybe your biggest worry is not about food after all. Do I make you concerned or just… annoyed? I can’t tell. I don’t want to tell. How did this story shift from Myreka to you, anyway? It’s silly, how the light moves to the humans I love.
Is Myreka talking to you? I’m sorry about that, usually I bring my duct tape with me, but someone had a complaint about that and, yes, I did feel bad about it so I stopped carrying it along with the little, what do you call it? Oh, yeah, the tranquilizer gun. I stopped carrying that one, too. Um. Tell her Mailman is driving her to the nice candy store, the one down and around the corner. Of course I’m Mailman, what, did you think I’d be Mummy? Ah, but you make me laugh and roll in that laughter I will. Hurry up now, and tell Myreka what Mummy and Mailman are doing… For the last time, I don’t think human parents are called Mummy and Father! What kind of name is Father? Add a t and take away an h and you have Fatter! Oh, that’s rich. Mummy and Fatter. Yes. We’ll do that one.
You be Mummy. I’ll be Fatter. Haha, what a joke I made there. You’d look so nice in the kitchen as Mummy, wouldn’t you? What? No, I don’t want you to cook for me. I want you to hold the knives and smile. Wave them around a bit. Sit on the counter and listen to a song or two, play them on that box you have, not the radio, no, the other one. Record player! Yes. Sit up on the counter and swing your legs and play us a song and you’d sing, wouldn’t you? Sing for me and Myreka, but Myreka is not part of that picture. She’s cut out, thrown in the garbage bin. Too bad indeed that she’s actually useful, at least in this moment. Ah, get me that drink there, please. The car drives make me so tired. Hm. Everything does.
Did you know what it would be like, when you agreed to all this?
I’m sure it’s not what you expected, maybe not what you wanted, but-
In all honesty, maybe it’s what I needed.
Here we are, then, we’re at the building with the tunnel, and the tunnel leads to the sky, where the others are. Are you wanting to meet them? They’d probably wrench open your mouth and try to yank out all your teeth, I’ll have to tell them first that this isn’t an appropriate time, that I like you as you and not your teeth. What you are, and not what you could give me.
“Tooth Fairies!” I’ll say, “This is a Human. I love them. Back away, back away.” And then no one will steal your teeth, no matter how pearly and white they may be.