“Hey, Page, what are you doing?” Her mother was on the sofa in the living room.
“Scrolling through Facebook. So many people are talking about how COVID-19’s killing off so many loved ones. It’s like the next Black Plague!” Page was upstairs in her bedroom.
“Well, get off. You’ve been up there since I left for and came back from the festival. And it was an hour and a half drive!”
“Yeah.” Page clicked off Facebook and swiveled around her chair, sighing. What to do now? I have no friends. Her tidy room basically sparkled clean. The mop already swept her hardwood floor, she freed her bookshelf from cobwebs and dust bunnies and her bed was made. Her immaculate desk sat right in front of her, but Page took care of all these things. She needed Facebook—to return to that annoying kid, Pete, in her eighth grade class. Tell him to care about the system of health care instead of sit there and look like someone who just irritates people until he’s told to shut up.
He’s Mr. Commentary when it comes to doomscrolling through Facebook, Twitter and Instagram! It’s like he’s obsessed with the social media’s opinions about the disease. Page knew it was a virus, but shrugged. She left her chair, clomping downstairs.
“Mom, I’m going on a walk!”
“Okay!”
Page donned her hiking shoes, taking a beach towel and some snacks with her to the community pool after her little outing around the neighborhood. A dog park neighbored the pool, so Page also made a mental note to stop and pet Sparks, the dog park’s most popular—a Chihuahua. So she packed a bag, grabbed her cellphone and off she went. Walking briskly down the white blocked sidewalk parallel to the street next to her, Page reached the pool in twenty minutes. When she unlocked the gate that let her in, Page walked up to one of the chairs. As if out of nowhere, a lifeguard approached her. Page stopped munching on her Pop tart.
“Excuse me, but you don’t show your pool admittance card, you can’t get in. That fence right there is for the dog park only. Somehow, you got in. You go through that fence door, and enter the pool area, and the dogs will get out.”
Page picked herself up and looked behind her. The fence door was indeed open. She went over and shut the gate. A huge Mastiff was clawing the gate door open. And a wide-eyed, panicky Page threw it open, allowing the dog to barrel for the pool. Horror caused a panic party as pool attendees jerked upright from their seats to grab frantic swimmers, especially little boys and girls. Page suddenly went from frozen to head diving into the pool, wrapping her arm around the huge dog and swimming with one arm. Steering and pulling her way towards the edge, the dog, Page noticed, made a splash—its head had dunk underwater. Page dove underwater, striving to push its head up—
“What the….?” Page widened her eyes, and went up for fresh air. Looking around, Page called out that the dog had gills on its stomach! Gasping painfully, she swam away, kicking and hitting the dog. Alas, the animal, having chomped onto her leg, splashed up to give a tender bite. Page balled a fist, reared back and—
Went underwater! For a second, Page, her eyes shut and mouth in a tightly closed o with cheeks bulging, swam awkwardly towards the top. However, the Mastiff, which she felt was underwater and below her, tugged gently on her leg so Page was unable to get her head even to the surface. Finally, after minutes of fighting this dog, Page gave up, and slowly opened her eyes and sucked in a gulp of water. But it wasn’t water—Page found herself inhaling and exhaling. Breathing naturally.
This is weird! I’m not a fish. And I don’t—she checked—have gills. How can I do such a thing? She dared to talk to this massive animal. It too breathed easily, panting and everything dogs to inhale and exhale. It let her know it serves a huge empire known as Fish Dog. This place is way below the sea level allowed for normal sea creatures to live—even jellyfish could never plummet its depths.
“So…” Page spoke clearly, “we can talk. Any ideas on how we can just get to the stupid place called Dish Fog and get out of there so I can return to my normal life?” She sighed. So I can do something other than doomscroll through Facebook? I mean, it’s so difficult trying to just stay away from Pete at school, let alone the neighborhood. Why can’t I just do something normal?
“What’s Facebook?”
Page stared at the Mastiff. “You read minds?”
“Yeah!”
Page had to process this stuff. First, the dog has gills. Then the dog speaks. Then the dog can literally read her mind. She shook her head, and backed away from the animal. What kind of world was this? She’d rather be skateboarding or enjoying an ice cream Sundae or something else cool than floating underwater in a chlorine-soaked pool. Page looked up. Yeah—even the water was boring. I’d even be okay being safe rather than with this thing!
Page swam away. She got far, and then the dog called to her. “I need help with my world. It’s a utopia, but it’s not the utopia I would like to live in. it’s not a utopia. It’s a place where they make you do stuff you wouldn’t want to do—boring, hard, laborious work. It’s not fun. Trust me!”
Page looked back at the Mastiff. “What’s your name?”
“What?”
“I said, ‘What’s your name?’”
“Still can’t hear you!”
Page grumbled and told the dog to come closer.
“No, you come over here. It’s okay. I’m just a dog.”
Page didn’t think anything anymore. Her thoughts were too precious. Instead, she swam so she was a foot away from the dog. No, farther, but she was still within hearing distance, and so was the dog, so she spoke again. “What’s your name, dog?”
The Mastiff’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide. “Dog? No one’s allowed to say that name except—”
“You know what, I’m not a dog, and I don’t belong in a world full of stupid animals bent on making others’ lives miserable. I’m a human who just found out she’s a mermaid because she can breathe underwater. You go back to this world—”
“No, no!” The Mastiff zoomed up and grabbed Page’s shoulders, looking her dead in the eye. “You don’t understand! I’ll get enslaved. If I’m not home soon, I could be toast. You know, a utopia isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Page shoved her paws off her. “Yeah—it’s not, considering I live in one, with social media dominating every minute of Pete’s life. I mean, Facebook’s not that awesome anymore. It’s more like a computerized monster force thing sucking your time away. You just need to get away from it.” Page sighed. “At least that’s what I need to do.”
“Do what?”
“I just want a life where I don’t have too much interference of too much social media.”
The Mastiff stared at her. “Well, if you come with me, we’ll defeat the utopia I have dreaded so long.”
Page looked at her. And then she swam beside her, nodding reluctantly. “You know, I’m only going with you because I don’t want my normal life.”
“And I’m only bringing you because I need your help.”
“Whatever!”
Page followed the Mastiff with heavy puffs of frustration, and then, to keep her sanity, she asked the Mastiff her name. She told it. Now Page was eager to turn around. But Rounds said something about social media. Turning slowly around, Page asked, “You know about that stuff?”
“No—but you said something like ‘Facebook.’ What’s that? Is that a specific world?” They were approaching vine-covered arches’ doors hanging below an underwater bridge. “Now, we go through these things and then you’re going to be amazed.” Rounds laughed, it sounding like a bark but being a laugh instead. Page rolled her eyes.
“This better be quick—defeating this stupid place.”
“Shush!” They went through the vines. “You don’t want to disturb the peace.”
When they arrived in what Rounds reminded her was Fish Dog for the hundredth time, Page grumbled to just get it done and over with. Rounds looked at her, and she looked back, a drop disrespectfully. When Page saw a spark of hurt flicker through the Mastiff’s eyes, Page tried not to roll her own. She only agreed to help Rounds. As Rounds introduced her new friend to her royal family in the aquamarine palace, Page couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortably happy everyone was. No one threatened, seethed, raged, blew up even at big matters, gritted their teeth, cried, widened their eyes in surprise or any other emotion other than agreement, resolution, joy, gladness, gratitude and a host of other emotions that designated this place as, well, utopian. No one went away unhappy, complained, grew impatient or frustration. Negativity was not a part of this place. Everyone shook paws, grinned, made eye contact, wagged tails, barked happily, nodded their heads and even whistled a tune when coming or going somewhere. It was like they were genetically programmed to say “Hi!” or “Sure!” or “No thank you!” no matter how they were feeling.
Page stared and then narrowing her eyes at all these smiley-faced, happy-go-lucky creatures. They seemed too happy. Other emotions emitted—disagreement among them—but too much joy. Too much pressure on the smile there. Like the dogs’ very lives depended on it. Not here I won’t. Page half-crossed her arms, vowing to secretly leave this place. She looked over at the assumedly steady guards protecting Fish Dog with their very lives. Don’t think those stupid things would ever prevent me to be such a—
Page found herself swung around and looking straight at the king. She bowed, feigning a smile. That smile turned into a frown once he pronounced her dead after sentenced to a couple of days in the crab crates down in the deeps. Only the fools go there, he said, and laughed. You’ll learn your lesson then!
Page blinked rapidly, her heartrate increasing tremendously. “Will I be turned into a dog?”
The king chuckled again, and swung his scepter. The queen thrust out a paw and demanded Page’s guard to take her away from her disrespectful position here as a mere mortal to a place she’ll learn to obey her elders! All this done with light, airy tones, of course. Page couldn’t help but breathe rapid breaths of cold air. She even wrapped herself around as she was lead, by the wrists, to the crab crates. Page busied herself as they swam lower and lower by imagining all the times she had with her best friend, Portuguese, back when they were little girls in her old town. She had moved awhile back, but new friends were too hard to make. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be lonely, but she didn’t want new people in her life. She was just a loner like that.
The crates were soon before her. When Page was kicked into one, the door slammed shut. Page knew without a doubt she’d either prove the king right or go insane. She even wished she was at her desk, scrolling through Facebook. It was better than this eerie, spiky box these dogs claimed was a crate!
More like the place of terror. Page didn’t dare sleep—she’d be screaming herself awake from nightmares. That’s what this thing was: a box-shaped nightmare. She expressed this truth to herself over and over. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rounds!
“Rounds!” She hissed, but Rounds was wagging her tail, panting happily. Then she zoomed off. Disappearing, Rounds had no idea Page wasn’t happy at all. But what did that dog care? All she did was order her subjects around. She was the princess, because the king was her father. All Page was some weird human thing coming to destroy the peace of this Fish Dog place. And the latter was exactly what happened! Page looked all around her at the barbed wire cage. It was just big enough to stand up. She sat down, grateful to sit. She yawned, her eyes soon shut. But she couldn’t lay down. Page stretched herself, wishing she were a fish or some sea animal who could just swim out of here.
Since Rounds wasn’t going to help anyway, I guess I’ll do it myself. Page imitated a fish, and then felt her mouth elongate into a tiny diamond-shaped hole. She felt her eyes contract closer together, and, seeing herself in a shiny shell below, fins were sprouting from her sides! After being a fish for a minute, Page turned into a dolphin.
So I’m a shapeshifter! Page gloried in this new discovery, and, once becoming a minnow, she swam out of the cage and then away. Soon, some guards caught sight of her, and she swam for her life. “Let’s get her!” They encouraged each other. “Let’s go!”
But Page swam faster. The way their smiles seemed pasted onto their faces and they never had a tone lower than that of joy creeped Page out more than that cage. This was no longer just a living nightmare—it boarded on crazy scary. Page swam faster, her microscopic tail going faster and faster every beat. Besides, how did they see me? Did they know I was shapeshifting? This hypothesis made Page swim even faster.
Soon, she let herself sink to the bottom of the ocean. Page was so tired she closed her eyes. Maybe if she used the last pint of her strength to bury underneath the sand, the dumb guards will never find her. But, suddenly, she smiled. Morphing into another animal, she witnessed the guards halt, looking at each other with what Page swore was fear. Real fear. She grinned. Yes—taste something else other than pure happiness!
After threatening the lousy Mastiffs by baring her razor-sharp teeth, Page the Barracuda watched her terrorized enemies bolt. However, other Mastiffs, creepy grins baring teeth, chased after Page. She transformed into a dolphin and then a boxer jellyfish, stinging every one. Striving to find Rounds as her only resort to help her defeat this so-called utopia (and mercifully befriend her, as she had no one else), Page finally found her playing poker. “Rounds, Rounds, you must stick with me. Please!”
Rounds turned to her, and a knowing look flashed across her eyes. Page sensed it was real, and relief washed over her like waves over sand. She jerked her head away, dashing off, looking back after she became a sea otter. Maybe once more chance, given her cuteness. Come on, Rounds! But Rounds seemed like she was too intent on the game to go. Page continued communicating to her telepathically.
We must stay here. It’s illegal and deadly. They could kill us.
Not if I can help it! Page was a shark this time, terrifying all Mastiffs at once. Even the monarchy over yonder fled in horror. Only Page and Rounds remained. Page begged Rounds to come. Rounds decided whether she should or stay. Page, frustration coursing through her, decided to end all stupidity by fleeing Fish Dog forever. Fine, Rounds. I’ll make my own way. She fled away from the place, out of the pool and onto the side of the pool. Everyone stared at her.
“Where were you?”
Page said somewhere, and got up to dry herself. Everyone started coming back to life slowly, but Page continued her little pool day as if nothing had happened. However, the lifeguard yelled down to her to keep the dog park gate closed and to stay away from that door. Page nodded agreement.
I’ll be going near that gate door like I’ll be returning to Fish Dog. After sitting in the sun for a few hours, Page went home. When she was asked by the worried owner the next weekend about his Mastiff, Page said she had left to her real world. The owner walked away, blinking confusedly and unsure of whether Page was real.
“Well,” Page documented on her Facebook page that night to someone she had met at gym class, “it was weird. But, like always, we always have to have an adventure, right?”
“Yeah!” The girl wrote back. “Could you tell me what happened?”
“Well, for one, I discovered I’m a shapeshifter. That’s about as interesting as it gets. The rest is pretty creepy. There were these dogs that never stopped being happy.”
The friend never replied. Page discovered that her classmates were as creeped out of her as she was of that never-ending happy world of Fish Dog. Page walked down a school hallway and then flew through an open window as a seagull, searching for her own new life. Somewhere on a beach with other seagulls.
Those birds just wanted food. So Page looked elsewhere. No matter where she looked, friendship was never born. Finally, she stopped by Pete’s house. Somehow, she felt she could connect with him. She just stood there, and waved in a friendly manner, pretending to be stopping by.
Pete looked out his window, and waved gratefully back. And, better yet, he didn’t seem to need to be told twice to shut his laptop when his mother called through their door she had opened. Page and Pete chatted about things in the world—on the internet and real life—all the way home to Page’s house.
Connecting to each other when disconnection was everywhere, Page learned about Pete’s life. And he hers.
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