The hero we didn’t ask for, Holden Mcgroin writes another letter from Mammaroon.

Dear friends,

I awoke today to a bowl of porridge!

Let me catch you up.

So I was on that desert planet, wherever that was, gathering all the moisture I could onto my desperate, thirsty tongue when at once a troop of the small, boobacious spidery variety came upon me, grabbed me like a group of ants grabbing a grape, a huge grape, mind you. Which brings to mind my piles, but that’s another gripe for another time.

Their strength must be mighty to grab a grown man like me, though admittedly, I am smaller than average. Still, my smallness has always made my appendage appear huge, so there has always been that advantage, forgive me, I digress, where was I?

Oh, right, yes, so they grabbed me as one entity and wove me up into the silk of the skies, and I had a bird’s eye view of the ground below, and I saw the mannequins still lying upon their backs. The phallic-like pillar jutting out of the sand from the male mannequin gave the impression of some Greek ruin.

They then proceeded to caccoon me in layer upon layer of silk and try as I might to fight it, somehow they could keep me subdued. And so, although the fright had my heart beating hard against my chest, I could not respond with anything, not even to shape my countenance with a grimace.

I was wrapped so thoroughly in this silky substance, I panicked, suffocation came to mind, and my heart beat itself into a frenzied dance with which flashed images upon images superimposed behind my retinas. The blood of my ancestors, all time stretched out from the past and the future with me in the middle to the beat of a drum. My heart was the drum and the dancer trapped inside my chest.

I asked myself if I was human or dancer, my heart clapped back that I was surely both, with a frenzied salsa.  

I could feel myself being moved through a throng of spidery legs until I was rolled and bundled into a ball and placed inside something dark. The dark space I inhabited moved with a jolt that matched the spasmic quakes of my heart beating at pace.

‘You are the fly.’ A voice spoke aloud to me.

Shit! I’m a fly! I screamed inside my head. I was a fly with no wings to hum my misfortunes into a buzzing scream!

I started to wonder if I was in the belly of one of those spidery beings, if I had actually been eaten.

I could feel movement and hear hushed sounds akin to the white noise of a hospital back on earth, but with the screams only internal.

And then…

Well, that is the weird thing, then nothing much.

I found myself left alone (as far as I could tell), with an opening revealing a harsh white light. My body shook involuntarily, and the silk started to shed away before I peeked out of the little opening, now that my body could move.

Peering out, I could see nothing but a clinical white floor.

‘You’re in a mental hospital.’ A voice said to me, my own voice.

I poked my head further out, sniffed the air, but it didn’t smell like a hospital. I looked around with hesitation, jerking my head left and right with slow jerks of the head. When I spotted someone of human form, I shrieked back into the container and skittered as far into the darkest corners as I could.

Then an eye peeped through the opening, looking at me, ‘Holden!’ A voice said from the eye.

It took me a moment to remember that was my name.

‘Holden! It is I! Spoon!’

The corner held me, cradled me, ‘Spoon.’ I muttered to myself softly, not wanting to be heard but needing to get the word out of my breast.

‘Remember?’ The eye spoke again. ‘Come out, you’re home’ The eye beamed.

‘Home?’ I frowned into the dark corner and muddled through this. ‘Earth?’ I mumbled to myself.

After he attempted to coax me out, he left me for a while, and I eventually scuttled back to the opening, peeping out again, till I saw the top of that same human form above a platoform that my brain soon reemembered was a kitchen worktop. I slithered out of the container and, much to my surprise, when I was fully out of the thing, I realised I’d been inside a huge bag!

‘Holden!’ Spoon beamed, though he remained where he stood.

‘S..Spoon’, I stuttered and looked around me.

The tank was as it had always been, one of the mammarrians (the big boss ones) was standing outside the tank looking in with a queer expression on it’s face which I think may have been an alien expresson of Curiousity. Another one, even bigger than the one with the queer expression ambled by with a rumble and appeared to communicate something with the other before looking in the tank too.

‘You’re a fish out of water!’ Spoon said.

I looked at him blankly, remembering the desert planet, my skin burning.

‘A fish for sore eyes, too!’ Spoon scowled and came over to me, ‘I’ll get some ointment.’

‘Where in the hell have I been?’

Spoon turned to look over his shoulder as he rummaged for the ointment, ‘The tank needed cleaning.’

‘What?’ I looked at him dumbfounded.

‘The tank,’ Spoon said, ‘It needed cleaning.’

I put a hand to my face and grazed the skin with my fingertips, feeling like my face would melt away at my touch.

My skin has since started to heal, though it is scarred. Spoon and I have been living a life of domestic bliss, at least in terms of what bliss can be found while living in a fish tank.

‘Where was that?’ This morning, I asked him over my porridge, ‘Where I went, when they were cleaning the tank?’ I’d only just managed to muster the wherewithal of asking again.

‘The Sands.’ He answered matter-of-factly.

‘The Sands?’

‘Yes. One of the many Deserts of Mammaroon.’  

‘And why, did they put me in the middle of a desert while they cleaned my tank?’

‘Curiosity.’

I spat my orange juice (I called it orange juice because it was the colour orange, not because it tasted like orange), ‘Curiousity? Good god! Jesus Christ! Fuck me sideways and hold my groin!’

‘I would, if I could.’ Spoon replied.

I blinked at him, forgetting my previous words. ‘Are they trying to breed me?’

Now it was Spoon’s turn to blink, ‘What?’

‘Breed. Are they trying to breed from me?’

‘Why’d you ask that?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

Spoon sighed. It sounded much too human-like to be real from an android! ‘Your planet…’

I stopped him short with a jutt of my hand, palm up, ‘No. No. I don’t wanna hear it. Never mind.’

Honestly, that’s all I have left of ink. While there is probably much more I should say, I shall end this letter here.

Yours faithfully,

Holden McGroin.

Humour me more of my letters from Mammaroon

Dear, Friends

Another letter in such quick succession! I know! But there is much more to report on, dear friends!

I must be going crazy! There is no other explanation!

I awoke today to find that the mannequins were no longer standing hand in hand. I initially thought they were nowhere to be seen in my sleepy haze! Till I opened my bleary eyes further, looked around me, and realised that they were now lying down, each mostly submerged in the sand but for their knees jutting out. One had its legs spread open, the one I had drunk from the other day; the hole was visible as if trying to entice me. The other one, whom I had never seen the front of, as I never dared go near where they stood, as there was an ominous energy about them, had a phallic-like column jutting out of the sand. Yes, You read that right!

At first, I didn’t have the energy or wherewithal to think anything more about it. Frankly, my skin was itchy and sore, my lips sore and dry, and my stomach aching so I rolled over and started to doze again.

When I came to again, I looked back at the Mannequins, who were still lying in the same position. It was then I noticed some sand had since blown off their torsos, and I could see little beads of sweat on their chests. I crawled and slid across the sand, parched as I was. The journey towards them felt like it had taken forever, and it had taken me a while.
I curled up next the mannequins and went back into a hazy sleep.

When I awoke, I painfully crawled closer and started licking at the little beads of mannequin ‘sweat’ with a great thirst.
‘Oh, thank you!’ I found myself saying, ‘I need this!’ I said, every bead tasting like heaven to my tongue. I followed the mannequin’s body with my tongue till I reached under its knees, and then I was between the legs and licking up any moisture I could.
It hadn’t occurred to me, Dear friend, in my thirsty haste what this looked like! I was just so glad of any water! No matter how little the baubles!
But as I reached closer to the hole, a thought startled me!
‘No!’ I shouted or instead tried to shout from my wretched throat, ‘No, I will not!’ I felt my nails dig into the sore skin of my hands as I made fists. ‘Fuck you!’
See, it had occurred to me that this was what they wanted; this was what they were counting on! They were breeding from me! They were trying to get my sperm! I know how crazy that sounds, but is that so crazy after all I’ve told you? Alice and my daughter flashed into my mind, and it all made sense. They’re using me to breed!
Then, another horrifying thought entered my head, does this mean, dear friends, you no longer exist? Are we near extinction? Were trying to conserve us, using me? Am I the last man alive?

No. No. No.

No, I will not have it! If that is so, I shall die here. I shall die out, and I shall not be giving them anything of mine!

Yours faithfully,

Holden Mcgroin.

Author’s note: I think these letters have essentially become my creative outlet for writing practice. They’re hit and miss, but I’m sharing them anyway.

Another letter from Mammaroon

Dear friends

It’s funny what you remember when you miss something. See, it occurred to me recently that there was a great forgetting down on earth. We’d pour our filth out into the world, and then when we glimpsed the ripple effect in our environment, like stones in water, we’d remember for a second, a moment, maybe a little longer if we could hold onto the abstract long enough.
We’d sit, mourn, sigh, and shake our heads, ‘What about the whales?!’ We’d ask, ‘What about the curlew?’
Then, in the next breath, we’d turn and pour more filth, always re-forgetting.

I only remembered our great forgetting because I’m here in this fish tank on another planet. How far removed I have had to be to realise is…nothing but shameful to be honest with you, dear friends.

I miss the way Herons flew like a rope with wings and how the squirrels pissed me off by chewing my bird feeders.
The early morning dawn chorus would irritate me after a sleepless night.

In other news, though, I married Spoon, not because of love but boredom.

Sitting here in this glass tank, I know what a goldfish felt like; if his memory is bad, surely it’s from the tediousness that rots one’s brain from such an oppressive home rather than from biology. I remember having a goldfish that knew when it would get food, and I am much the same when the mammarrians throw in some food.

Occasionally, when the boobacious little spidery mammarrians come and stare at me through the glass, with even smaller ones standing beside them I take off my t-shirt, and I take a run-up to the glass and the little ones skitter and hide behind the slightly bigger ones. It passes the time and amuses me no end!

Yours faithfully
Holden Mcgroin.

Another damn letter from from Mammaroon

Dear Friends,

I am writing to you against my better judgment!

The family life didn’t last long.

It lasted as long as a dream, though I am almost sure it was real!

‘What shall we name her?’ Alice had asked me.
I was lying in the bed behind a haze of smoke from a cigarette that hung between my fingers. I wasn’t sure how it got there, I didn’t remember lighting it, and I didn’t remember drawing smoke from it either.
‘Spoon.’ I replied lazily.
Alice sprung from the bed like a cat, ‘Get Spoon out of your mouth!’
I looked at her through the smoke, ‘What’d you mean?’
‘I swear you love him more than me!’ She paced up and down beside the bed, ‘Maybe I should get them to bring him here, so he can keep you happy.’ She leant on the bed, reached out and lifted my chin with two fingers to make me look her in the eyes. ‘We are not calling our daughter after your lover!’
‘Yea, you’re right,’ I had said, ‘Especially if we did decide to use my surname.’
Alice bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes glazed over, ‘Is this a joke to you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I gestured round the room with my hand, ‘What the fuck any of this is!’

In some respects, being in a house that looked like one I could have back home on Earth was a comfort. But Alice being there and our…Daughter… I still can’t fathom that one…It made it all disconcerting.

I kept having nightmares where I’d walk through the curtains and take the baby out of the cot and peel the skin off her face; underneath were just wires and red lights.
But then, despite all signs of her being an android, blood would start to spill, and my hands would be covered in her blood.
Alice would walk in, and at the sight of me holding our daughter, bleeding in my arms, she’d let out a shriek so piercing that it could break glass.
‘What have you done?’ She’d scream at me, ‘What the hell have you done!’
And I would stand there and cry, looking down at my dead baby human/android in my hands.

It seems the Mammarians wanted Alice and I to play happy families, smaller Mammarians, like the little boobacious spiders, would come along holding a big device between their two front legs. Then, after a white flash, they’d be gone again. I can only presume that they were taking photographs.
But apparently, I needed to play families better for them.
Yet I was up at night doing the feeding occasionally, allowing Alice to rest. I burped her and changed her nappy. All the usual things a dad does. I pulled funny faces at her, and she laughed, and I laughed back.
Occasionally Alice and I tried to fornicate, but it was very hit-and-miss whether I could perform.
I must confess to you the times I did perform, I was picturing Spoon or some other man I once knew on Earth.

How much I miss the flesh of another human. I miss the birds and the bees, the squirrels chattering in the trees.
I miss the trees too! The velvety moss you could run your hands through, like running your hand through a man’s hairy chest.
I know we burdened the world; a lot had been lost before I was even born. But what was left counted to something, and I can only dream that maybe humans were letting things grow back since my abduction.

After what felt like eons I was picked up in another bubble cart and taken back to the fish tank.

I am still determining what else to add as of right now. I am still processing everything, so I guess that will be all for today.

Yours faithfully,
Holden Mcgroin.

Part 5: There goes the Wub

The rows of trees came to a halt, and up the narrow dusty path, Tucker slowed his pace. The little house came into view, and already Merrick could spot the couple shuffling out of their house. They were still some distance away, but he wanted to consider how to deal with the situation, keeping Tucker at a slow trot.

‘Is this the place?’ Jackson asked.

‘Yup, this is the house alright.’

Spying the couple that stood at the front of the house, Jackson said, ‘She looks like she means business!’ But he was laughing about it into Merrick’s ear.

As they neared the house and the vast farmland stood in a sepia silence the man stepped off the front porch, eyes ablaze. ‘You ‘ave come back this way when we told you not to!’ The man bellowed, his nostrils flared.

‘Me situation has forced me back this way, I’m afraid.’ Merrick dismounted.

The woman stood behind the man, holding the shot gun with Merrick in her sights. Merrick looked around and spat onto the pathway, spying the wubs that were hung up on an old tattered washing line slap-bang in the middle of the field at the front of the house.

‘What’s with them?’ Merrick jutted his chin toward the dead wubs.

The man turned his whole body to look back at the wubs then turned again to look at Merrick and Jackson. ‘Ya never tried Wub?’ The man asked them, looking at them through an angry glaze.

‘No,’ Jackson replied, stepping up next to Merrick. ‘What would a fella do that fer? I’d assume they’d be poison t’ us.’

‘They’re creatures from the divine.’ The woman said through gritted teeth, still looking down the barrel of the gun.

‘So why’d ya kill ‘em?’ Merrick asked.

‘The divine brought us the wub so that we could eat.’ The man told them.

‘What ‘bout the fishes in the sea and the rivers?’ Jackson asked.

The man laughed, ‘Ya seen any fish ‘ere?’  

‘We were outta fish long ‘fore those wubs came.’ Merrick butted in.

‘I ‘eard word it was us ‘umans that did ‘em in.’ Jackson said.

‘T’was when ‘uman society lost faith!’ The man said.

Merrick shook his head, ‘Nah. I ‘eard it was a capitalist thing, overfishin’ ‘t’ waters fer profit.’ Merrick scanned the line of wubs hanging from the line, ‘Anyway, ‘ow about ya let us try some fried wub then? And we can devise a plan fer ‘ow my friend and I can pass, eh?’

The man thought it over, tapping at his bottom lip. The woman held steady with the gun, her finger ready on the trigger. ‘Down!’ The man barked.

Merrick looked at Jackson, Jackson looked back at him; they both shrugged.

The woman lowered the gun reluctantly, growling as she did.

Merrick leaned against Tucker’s head and whispered reassuringly in his ear, ‘Ya a good boy Tuck. I’ll work somethin’ out.’ He ran a hand down his long nose, ‘You stay ‘ere boy, yea?’ He leaned closer to Tucker’s ear and whispered more quietly, ‘Stay ‘ere till I say.’ Tucker moved his head up and down, nuzzling Merrick’s neck. ‘Ah know Tuck! Ah know!’ He laughed at the sensation as Tuckers tongue lolled out and licked his face. ‘I’ll sort it out, Tuck, I’ll sort it out.’ Tucker snorted happily.

The husband and wife grimaced at him talking to the horse with the devil eye like that, their lips curling with disgust.

                                                            #

Merrick and Jackson followed the couple into the little white house and into their kitchen and then into the dining room.  The man sliced up  a piece of wub and slapped it onto two plates, sliding them across to them on the table.

‘Go on,’ His fists thumped at the table.

Merrick looked up at him, nodded, cut himself a sliver and put it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed slowly, looking across at Jackson. ‘Tastes like fish.’ He smiled in surprise, ‘Teach a man t’ catch wub, and he’ll eat fer life!’ Merrick grinned.

Now the man and the woman looked at Jackson expectantly. Jackson took a piece reluctantly into his mouth, ‘Are ya sure this is safe? I mean, we’re eatin’ aliens!’

‘It’s fine!’ The woman barked.

‘Go on!’ The man spat impatiently.

Jackson looked across the table at Merrick, and Merrick tipped his head forward.

‘Alreet.’ Jackson said with a sigh, ‘’ere goes,’ he bit down on the wub meat and swallowed, then took another bite, ‘You’re right, it does taste like fish!’

The man and woman smiled at them both, showing gummy grins. Then they put their hands together and closed their eyes, saying some silent prayer.

They sat down and took some wub meat for themselves, scoffing it off their plates in haste.

‘Now,’ the man started to speak, his mouth full, ‘That there ‘orse,’ he pointed with his fork, a bit of wub meat falling off and back onto his plate, ‘’e is of this earth and not a part of the divine.’

‘What are ya on about?’ Merrick asked.

‘That ‘orse is like the cidy peope. God wanted us separated from those so-called pure bloods. We are not the freaks in God’s eyes! We are ‘is chosen ones!’

‘That’s a new one on me!’ Jackson baulked.

Merrick spun his fork on the plate in front of him, ‘I think man is of the earth too.’ He dropped the fork with a clatter and sat back in his chair, arms folded, ‘What’d ya say t’ that?’

‘I’d say ya ent got Jesus in ya ‘eart! And fer that you shall surely burn in hell!’ The woman replied.

The man closed his eyes, ‘Amen, Ize. Amen!’

Merrick leaned forward and looked the man square in the eyes, ‘Well, that ‘orse right there, is a descendent of a ‘orse from one of the spaceships.’

The man dabbed his mouth with an old stained cloth, ‘I’d say ah don’t believe ya.’

‘Well, me father told me there were two ‘orses on the spaceship, those two ‘orses they left behind.’

The man took another bite of wub.

The woman slammed her knife and fork on the plate with a clatter, ‘’es lyin’ ‘e is!’

The man waved a hand at her; she lowered her eyes and looked down at her plate.

‘’is father might be the liar, Ize.’ He nodded toward her, and she nodded back, picking her knife and fork back up.

‘Ya ‘eard me, didn’t ya?’ He asked Merrick.

‘Yea. Ya sayin’ me father is a liar. But see, I ‘ave proof.’

‘And what would this proof be?’

‘I’ve got a photograph of the ‘orses comin’ walking off t’ spaceship!’

A chair scraped against the floor as the man pushed it out below. He stood at the tables end, arm stretched, palm up expectant.

‘Well,’ Merrick looked from him to the woman and back again, taking another bite of wub, ‘I don’t ‘ave it on me!’

The man’s elbow cracked as he bent his arm back and slapped his hands together. Jackson, Merrick and the woman all jumped at the sound.

‘Liar!’ He shouted, spittle spraying from his mouth. His face was red with rage, ‘I let you liars into my ‘ouse, and fed you my food!’ He spun on his heels, picked up a gun that was leaning against the window at the end of the table.

‘I ‘ought to shoot ya both right ‘ere!’ He bellowed, pointing the gun at Merrick and Jackson, ‘But that would be too easy!’ He hissed, turning and marched out of the house.

Merrick made a blind rush to the window, his gun out of his holster and pulled the trigger. The glass smashed, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere. The first bullet had missed the man, as he marched toward a nervous Tucker.

‘Run!’ Merrick hollered at the top of his lungs.

The man glanced over his shoulder at Merrick before turning back and raising the gun, Tucker in his sights.

Merrick pulled the trigger again.

The man groaned loudly.

Tucker was running in the direction he’d come from, neighing loudly.

The man was down, holding his leg.

When he noticed Tucker getting away, he heaved himself up.

‘I don’t wanna kill ya,’ Merrick spat.

The man batted Merrick away and spun round; lifting his gun, ‘I’ll kill you…’

Merrick shot him in the bloody mess of his trousers. The man groaned and fell to the ground again, the gun landing away from him. He held his leg, grunting and breathing heavily. Merrick kicked the gun away.

There was a bang from behind; he spun on his heels and the woman had a shotgun pointed at him. He watched as her hands loosened their grip, and the gun fell to the ground before her body slumped down, blood running from her head.

Jackson stood over her, pistol in his hand, blood spattered on his face.

‘Jesus, Jack!’

‘She were about to shoot ya!’

‘Fuck!’ Merrick spat, ‘Fuck!’ He turned back to the man, and the man clawed over to his shotgun, one hand still holding onto his leg. He looked over at his dead wife on the grass.

‘Ya shot ‘er!’ Then his face contorted, ‘You shot my baby!’

Merrick and Jackson watched as he lifted the gun, both of them ready with their guns to shoot if they had to.

It looked as if the man would point the gun towards them. But then he turned it on himself, ‘I’ll meet ya in the heavens, Ize!’ Then a sudden look of peace pulled his face back together, and smiling, he pulled the trigger.

Part 3: There goes the Wub

Jackson woke to find the green sleeping bag beside him was empty. The sound of hooves clopping spurred him onto his feet; he ran out of the shack, shielding his eyes from the light of day. ‘Ya were gonna leave, jus’ like that?’ He snapped his fingers.

‘I dunno what’t’ tell yer, I’m a loner.’

‘Ya weren’t much a loner las’ night!’ Jackson spat bitterly.

‘Well, I am t’day.’

Merrick sat in the saddle, and Tucker started walking up and away from the shack at a slow trot, ‘I’ll be seein’ ya around.’ Merrick twisted himself around and saluted down to Jackson, ‘Am sure I’ll be back at some point.’

‘Well, there ent far’t’ go round in circles in this god forsaken place!’

‘True,’ Merrick turned Tucker around so he was facing Jackson again, saluting him again, ‘True enough, Jack.’

‘But then, ‘ow come we never met ‘fore?’ Jackson jutted his chain.

‘I’ve passed through ‘fore. Probably jus’ din’t notice one another tha’s all.’ Merrick picked up the reigns and spun Tucker back the other way.

‘Think I’d notice if ya rode on ‘im ‘fore now.’ Jackson intoned.

‘Ya’d be amazed at’t’ things we miss.’ Merrick slapped Tucker’s neck gently, and they trotted away.

Merrick had been riding for a straight hour on the track, changing terrain from concrete to dust and back. He reached a narrowing dusty path, and ahead of him was a little house on a dead farm.

As Tucker and Merrick approached, a man dressed in all white came walking out, a woman behind him with a shotgun.

‘Now ya stop reet there!’ The man held a palm up to Merrick. He looked up at Merrick on Tucker with a stony face.

‘’E got them devil eyes, Ize.’ The man talked to the woman behind him from one side of his mouth.

‘Jus’ the one.’ Merrick corrected him as he dismounted.

The woman’s left eye twitched on an attractive face, but she had a very short neck making it look like her head was attached directly to her shoulders.

The man’s neck leant to one side, and he seemed unable to move his head. His eyes shifted up and down as he took in the scene. ‘Ya shall not pass!’ He spat, ‘Not with the devil eyed ‘orse of yours!’

‘An’ who made you gatekeeper of’t road?’ Merrick met the man’s steely face.

‘It’s the devil eye,’ The woman said, ‘Tell, ‘im Frank! It’s that devils eye!’

The woman stepped forward with the gun, jutting it in the air, ‘I will shoot! I will shoot that devil ‘orse reet ‘fore ya eyes!’ A crazed look in her eyes.

Merrick could see she was serious, her finger trigger ready.

‘Okay, okay!’ Merrick held up his hands and got back in the saddle, spinning Tucker around, ‘We’re leavin’’ he said, looking straight ahead, never looking back.

‘Don’t shoot,’ He called back again, ‘I’m goin’’ He continued until he was some distance away.

#

‘Fancy seein’ you back in these parts so soon!’ Jackson beamed up at him.

Merrick dismounted from Tucker, ‘Yea, there was a crazy lady with a gun.

Jackson placed a hand on the flank of Tucker gently with one hand, a gun in his other hand, ‘I oughta shoot ya right between ya eyes.’ Jackson spat bitterly.

Merrick turned squarely, ‘Can ya not jus’ pistol whip me across t’ face?’

Jackson held up the gun and mimed shooting him, ‘I really oughta.’ He shook his head, ‘Ya came on ‘ere, fucked me some, then jus’ up an’ left like that’s how ya treat another man.’

Merrick lit up a cigarette casually, ‘What did ya think would ‘appen?’

‘I jus’ want a liddle respec’ is all.’

‘Ya know, I missed ya while I was gone those few hours.’ Merrick told him while he looked Tucker over, ‘Ya got any water for Tuck?’

Jackson lowered the gun by his side, ‘Sure, there should be some in’t stable.’

Merrick and Jackson smoked, fucked and smoked some more till night glared in through the window of the little shack.

They were rolling lazily in their sleeping bags, cigarettes between their fingers. The shack full of haze from all the cigarettes and blunts they’d smoked.

Outside was upheaval; the sound of hooves made the shack’s wood vibrate.

Merrick turned to Jackson, ‘We might’ve got ourselves a problem, Jack.’ Smoke came out of Merrick’s mouth as he spoke, and they both started to laugh.

The sound outside grew closer and their laughter ceased abruptly. Merrick crept from his sleepin’ bag to the little window and looked outside.

‘Three men and four ‘orses.’

‘Why four ‘orses if there are only three men?’ Jackson asked.

Merrick turned to Jackson, ‘Meybe one of ‘em is invisible!’ They started to laugh again when there was a knock at the door.

‘’Ere, they may be after me.’ Merrick squinted through the little window, ‘Yea, they’re probably after me.’

‘Why? What ya done?’

Merrick waved a hand dismissively, ‘Never mind that, I need’t hide.’

‘They’ll recognise your flamin’ ‘orse.’ Jackson said nervously, ‘Anyone could recognise that bleedin’ ‘orse.’

There was a loud crashing sound, the wooden door splintered, and a man in big boots trounced in.

Merrick shot to the back of the room in the shadows, bollock naked. He crept behind the unfinished wooden wall that jutted out.

‘Where is ‘e?’ The man that had pounded his way in asked, ‘Where is Merrick Bowman Jr?’

Jackson stood in his boxers and t-shirt, hurriedly getting dressed and slipping as both his legs ended up in one leg of his trousers. ‘Fuck!’ He spat, lying on his back with his legs up in the air.

‘I’m not interested in you; slow yasel’ down. Am only after Merrick!’

‘I don’t know anyone by that name!’ Jackson squirmed, still on the floor.

‘Course ya do!’ The man jutted his chin, ‘Are ya callin’ the barman across the road a liar?’

‘Well, ah know a man who might or might not have been named Eric,’ Jackson drawled, ‘But ah never got ‘is name.’

The man laughed.

‘Stop playin’ t’ fool. Ya got ‘is ‘orse in that stable of yours!’ The man shook his head and put his foot on Jackson’s chest, spat brown liquid next to his head, ‘Ya wanna be careful wit’ men like Merrick.’

‘Oh?’ Jackson said, lifting his head shakily from the floor and looking at the man’s boot on his chest.

‘Yea, ‘e’s a perv and a killer.’

‘Well, ah wouldn’t know about that.’ Jackson tried innocently.

‘We got an ‘orse short of a man.’ The man jutted his chin, ‘We thought since Merrick loves his ‘orses ser much, we should bring ‘im’t ‘orse for ‘im to shoot dead ‘imsel.’

‘Why would ya want ‘im to do that?’

‘’Cause we know how much it would pain ‘im!’ The man laughed.

‘The ‘orse or Merrick?’

‘Merrick of course.’

‘I’m sure a bullet to the leg might pain ‘im too, sir.’

‘An’ I’m sure a bullet to that beloved ‘orse of his will be pain to ‘im too!’

‘Am sure a bullet to ‘is leg will be pain enough, sir.’ Jackson continued in protest.

Merrick peered around the wall, hands up in question, looking across at the shadow of Jackson, ‘The fuck?’ He mouthed.

‘Anyway,’ Jackson continued, ‘Why would ya want ‘im to kill one of ya ‘orses? Is it ill? Is it sufferin’?’

‘No the ‘orse is jus’ fine. But ah jus’ wanna see the pain reckon on Merrick’s face.

‘Why…Why did this Eric chap kill one of ya men, then?’

‘Merrick,’ The man corrected him, ‘As ah said, Merrick is a perv. You can’t rationalise why ‘e did anythin’

Merrick reached for his gun and stepped out from behind the wall.

‘Jameson,’ He smirked.

‘Merrick!’ Jameson beamed, he took his boot off Jackson’s chest and spat another load of brown liquid next to his head.

Seeing the gun, he held up his hands, ‘Now, now. No need fer this.’

Jameson looked Merrick up and down and laughed, ‘Christ! A sight for sore…’

Jackson stood and tapped him on the shoulder, and Jameson turned for only a millisecond, but it was enough for Merrick to swing a pillow in front of the gun and shoot him in the head.

Feathers floated around the room, and Jameson dropped to the wooden floorboard. Merrick grabbed at his legs and pulled him into the shadows of the shack behind the wall.

‘The fuck is this shit?’ Jackson said, now pointing a pistol towards Merrick again

‘Put ya damn gun down!’ Merrick told him in no uncertain terms, turning his back to Jackson and putting his own gun back in the holster.

‘You’re a killer!’ Jackson spat.

‘Self-defence!’

‘It wasn’t, he…’ Jackson shook his head, ‘Anyway I ent on about ‘im!’ His finger was on the trigger, sweat dripped down his face.

‘’E killed someone dear to me,’ Merrick turned to face him, ‘A man I loved very much.’

Jackson looked over his shoulder at the other men they could hear drinking and talking outside. ‘What are we gonna do ‘bout them?’ He said, waving the gun in Merrick’s face.

‘’Opefully, nothin.’ Merrick replied.

‘But…’

‘They’re gettin’ blind drunk!’ Merrick told him, ‘When they’re pissin’ themsel’ we’ll know we can get Tucker and ride on out of ‘ere, and they’ll be useless.’

Jackson’s hand dropped to his side, ‘Why’d they kill ya friend?’

‘’Cause ‘e was me boyfrien’’

‘If they killed I’m fer that, why ent they kill you too?’

‘’Cuz I wasn’t there when they killed ‘im.’

Part two: There goes the Wub

It was pitch black as they rolled over to sleep; Merrick listened to the howl of the wind against the door. The distant hooting of owls sharing the same soundscape.

‘Say, can I…Can I…I ne’er felt gills on a human ‘fore.’

Merrick rolled in his sleeping back to face the dark lump that was Jackson, ‘Is that what ya got me in ‘ere fer? T’ cop a feel?’

Jackson switched on the torch between them, ‘Fuck no! I ent like that! I ent no pervert.’

‘The lady doth protest too much.’ Merrick smirked.

Jackson baulked and slid up in his sleeping bag, ‘I shoulda ne’er asked. I apologise, sir.’

Merrick shook his head, ‘It’s fine, Jackson! Come on then,’ Merrick leaned over the torch light, casting a huge shadow on the walls, ‘Have a feel.’

Jackson ran his tongue over his teeth, ‘Ya sure?’

‘Yea. Curious folk are better than pre-judgement, fella.’

Jackson reached over hesitatingly, running a finger over the slits in his gills, ‘Wow.’

He spat, ‘Wow!’ He shook his head, ‘Do they, do they work, like?’

‘Nah. non-functioning.’

The wind filled in a gap of silence between them, along with the ‘too-wit’ of a female owl very close by.

‘What’d ya think is wrong wit’ bein’ like that?’ Merrick finally asked.

Jackson was still looking wide-eyed in amazement, his finger tracing down the slits on Merrick’s neck, ‘What?’ He asked with a frown.

Merrick leaned further in, ‘Ya know, like…’ Merrick kissed Jackson on the lips gently, ‘like that.’

‘N- No…I ent.’ Jackson stuttered. ‘And you shouldn’t be goin’ roun’ doin’ that t’ men!

Ya’ll get yasle’ kilt’

‘Why? Are you gonna kill me?’

Jackson swallowed audibly, ‘No.’

‘Well, that’s good then.’ Merrick smiled across at him.

They lay on their backs in their sleeping bags, back into the blackness of the night; the wind continued to howl and bang at the door menacingly.

Jackson swallowed away something that haunted his mind before sighing as though he had resigned himself to some disagreeable fate.

Merrick kept his eyes closed, listening to the rustling coming from beside him, then the purr of a zip coming undone, the padding of hands and knees crawling against the grain of the wooden floor.

Then he felt it, the breeze of exposed skin. He opened his right eye and was met with Jackson looking over him.

‘What’s this?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jackson confessed as he ran his hand down from Merricks gills to his chest and ran his fingers through his chest hair.

Merrick strained his neck and kissed Jackson, pulling him in closer.

‘I didn’t think you…’ Merrick started.

‘I don’t know,’ Jackson whispered, ‘so jus’…’

‘Shut up.’ Merrick finished the thought.

The wind had since calmed down, and the floorboards creaked underneath their weight.

‘I always wonder wit’ men like yasel” Jackson started, his head resting against Merrick’s chest, ‘Are ya jus’ a man lookin’ fer anythin’ thee can get?’

‘What do ya mean?’ Merrick frowned.

‘If thee ent no woman around, ya jus’ take a fella like me to replace ‘er, like.’

‘Men like me?’ Merrick looked down at Jackson’s face, ‘more than one?’ He grinned, ‘But ya ent that way!’ He laughed.

‘Shut up!’ Jackson retorted, ‘Jus’ answer the damn question!’

‘What makes ya think you’re a good replacement fer a woman?’ Merrick asked, amused.

Jackson slid out from the sleeping bag and crept toward his own.

‘Anyway, ya think I couldn’t get me a woman if I wanted one?’

‘No, no! I ent sayin’ any such thing!’

Outside, time ticked away with the sound of rain dripping from the shack’s roof, cigarette embers marking down the minutes between Merrick’s fingers.

Just as Jackson had started to drift off to sleep, Merrick piped up, ‘What wus that ’bout ya goin’ t’ cidy?’

‘I ent goin’.’ Jackson replied sleepily.

‘Ya won the loddery?’

Jackson shifted in his sleeping bag, ‘Ah might ‘ave.’ But even if I ‘ave, I ent goin.” Jackson sat up, his back against the wall, ‘I wouldn’t go there ‘less I wus goin’ down t’ shoot ’em all down.’

‘Ya don’t wanna do that.’ Merrick told him

‘Ya bet I do!’ Jackson replied, ‘Look ‘ow they ‘ave us live! Those purebloods got it comin”

‘First someone teks ya eye, then ya tek theirs, then what are ya left with?’ Merrick asks the darkness.

Jackson frowned, ‘Say, what?’

‘Ya left blind! Thee take ya eye, you take theirs, they take your other eye, you take their other eye. Then ya fight blind and ya die.’ Merrick puffed up a pillow and clasped a hand behind his head.

‘I’d fight those fuckers blind if I ‘ad t’.’ Jackson replied.

‘I’m tellin’ ya,’ Merrick looked up at the ceiling, listening to the rain drip, ‘it never works out ser well.’

”ow’d you know?’

‘Never mind wut I might’ve done.’

Jackson squinted his eyes to see the shape of the man beside him on the floor in the dark. ”Ave ya kilt a man?’

Merrick got out of his sleeping bag, ”ere let me show ya somethin,’ He grabbed Jackson’s hand and pulled him up off the floor, ‘Come on.’

‘Wait, wait,’ Jackson loosened his hand from Merrick’s grip and put on a pair of boxers before following him outside.

‘Ya see down there all thum cidy lights?’ Merrick pointed down the cobbled street at the distant lights.

‘Yea.’

Merrick looked up at the sky, and Jackson followed his gaze, ‘Ya think thee can see those stars down there?’

Stars twinkled through transparent wispy clouds, the scars of scattered rain showers moving through the sky to reveal the brilliant void of space.

Jackson shrugged.

Merrick shook his head, ‘Thee cant. They’ve blown themselves up wit’ so much artificial light down there they forgodden real stars exist.’

A Wub hurried past, making a bubbling sound that they made when running.

‘Ent it interestin’ wut thee left behind?’ Jackson asked prompted by the sound.

‘Ya not one of those that think thee left ’em behind on purpose, are ya?’

Jackson shrugged again, ‘Mebe.’

‘Nah,’ Merrick said, ‘I think it’s like ‘ow we ‘umans introduce new species to new lands from ships and t’ like accidentally.’

‘Except the Wubs are alien.’ Jackson said.

‘So are t’other species when they arrive on new land. Anyway,’ Merrick took a piss where he stood, ‘They ent alien anymore.’

”Ow’d ya figure?’ Jackson asked, looking at the butt of Merrick as he relieved himself and he grinned, ‘ent ya a bit cold?’

They lay back down in their sleeping bags, hands clasped behind their heads.

‘So,’ Jackson started, ”Ow’d ya figure?’

‘Figure what?’

‘The alien thing, the Wubs.’

‘Thee preddy much naturalised now ent thee?’ Merrick said, ‘Like, back in’t day when Romans introduced non-native trees and ‘t’ like. Anyway,’

Jackson heard the floorboard creaking and then felt a weight on him, ‘I figure ya shut up wit’ the questions now,’ Merrick told him as his hands roamed between Jackson’s legs.

Part one: There goes the Wub

A wub scurried past; Tucker whinnied uneasily on his feet and waved his head back and forth.

‘Easy, easy!’ Merrick whispered.

The wub scurried into the surrounding foliage and out of sight.

‘Easy there, Tuck! Easy!’ Merrick continued to whisper gently into Tucker’s ear; his ear twitched at the sound, his hooves firmly setting themselves on the track.

Merrick and Tucker sped back into a canter until they reached the maw of the edge land, back into the human wilderness.

A line of dilapidated shacks stood crooked on either side of the dust road. They stopped before a couple standing outside one such shack, the woman looking wide-eyed at Tucker.

‘’e’s got thum devil eyes, ‘e as, Colt.’ She turned to her husband, ‘I ent ‘angin’ ‘bout fer no devil eyed ‘orse!’

Colt rolled his eyes, ‘The ‘orse is a beaut! Ne’er sen one like it!’

Merrick dismounted and straightened the collar on his coat, up and around his neck, before holding out a hand for the woman.

She looked around shiftily before taking his hand gingerly.

‘Why,’ he lifted her hand to his lips, ‘what a ‘andsome ‘usband yer got there.’

The woman’s hand fell limp from Merricks.

A little child peered shyly around the shack door; Merrick smiled and winked. The girl withdrew back behind the creaking wooden door.

The woman’s mouth gaped open, ‘yer what? Ya got eyes fer mah man?’

Colt’s moustache rose with a snigger, ‘’e sure ‘avin’ yer on!’

‘I ent no kidder when it comes to ‘ansome men like yasel’’

Colt’s moustache flickered instantly into a frown, ‘yer what?’  I aint that way inclined,’ He spat, ‘Now if you dunt mind!’ He turned, shooing him away with a wave of the hand, ‘Leave us outta ya perversions!’ He put an arm around his wife and ushered her back into their ruined shack.

‘Well, Tucker, looks like it’s jus’ you an’ I,’ He winked at the sparkling blue eye before climbing back into the saddle, sending dust up in their wake.

Distant street lights from the cities zoomedpast, like stars sparkling through the gaps in the trees.

They came upon a street that looked as though it had just been sketched into existence. Wooden buildings stood in the shadows of the night.

He looked over his shoulder at the distant city lights, then up at the sky, ‘At least we got real stars,’ He patted Tucker, his fingers trailing through his white mane.

Tucker’s hooves clopped loudly on the cobbled stones of the next street. Merrick hitched him up outside the only building with lights on inside.

‘Now, ya know the drill, Tuck! I gonna leave ya fer a liddle while, but ah’ll be reet on in there,’ he pointed at the door to the bar.

Tucker nodded his head down, ‘That’s a good boy!’ Merrick said, stroking down Tucker’s long face. ‘Yea, good boy!’ Tuckers ears twitched at Merrick’s voice soothingly.

Merrick stepped into the shabbily built pub, only two other patrons were inside.

The head of the man behind the bar jerked up to the sound of the doors closing behind him, ‘Nearly dropped off there!’ He laughed a toothless laugh.

‘Whiskey on the rocks.’ Merrick slid the coins across the bar.

‘Ya know, not many left now,’ The barman told him as he slid a glass of whiskey across the bar.

‘Yea? Thats what they want.’ Merrick sipped the whiskey down.

‘Truth is, it’s us that got it fer’t better!’

‘I been tinkin’ ‘bout the same.’ Merrick nodded to the barman.

‘Yea. Men like you come in all’t time an’ say that. Then you win the loddery one day and…’ The man raised his brows, ‘Suddenly, they up in’t cidies, thinkin’ they cheatin’ death.’ 

‘Well, I wouldn’t worry ‘bout that. Ah don’t play the damn loddery!’ Merrick  replied.

The barman laughed, his tongue sucked against his gums, ‘The best way, the best way!’ He patted Merrick on the shoulder.

Another man entered the bar, and the barman laughed at the arrival, ‘The busiest night of me life, eh?’ He asked in jest. ‘I gonna be rollin’ in it!,’ He said, ‘Hey,’ He nudged at Merrick with his elbow, ‘I could be goin’t’ the cidies yet! Buy mesel’ a few clones, make out like I’m cheatin’ death!’

Merrick nodded and sipped the rest of his whiskey.

The man who had just arrived approached the bar and sat beside him.

‘Rum ‘n’ Coke, please.’ The man looked at Merrick , ‘That your ‘orse back there?’ He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder.

Merrick  turned to look over his shoulder, ‘It might be, ‘pends whose askin’?’

The man held his palms up, ‘Ah mean no trouble, Sir. Jus’ that is one special ‘orse ya got yasel’ there. Ah wouldn’t ‘ave ‘sen ‘im if it weren’t fer ‘is white mane!’

‘Yea, I won the ‘orse loddery, ya could say.’

The man slapped his thighs, ‘Ya don’t say, man!’ He whistled.

‘I thought you went out t’ the cidy?’ The barman jutted his chin as he asked.

‘Nah, I ent goin’ that hell ‘ole without a gun!’ He smiled.

The man looked over his shoulder, out the window, ‘That ‘orse sure is mighty fine!’ He whistled, ‘’E even got them blue eyes!’

‘Jus’ the one.’ Merrick told him.

‘Eh?’

‘Jus’ the one blue eye.’

‘Well, ones enough for me!’ The man grinned, ‘Ones enough fer me t’ fall right on over there in love!’

‘it’s the blue eyes that get ya, is it?’ Merrick asked him.

The man laughed and drank up his rum in one swift gulp. ‘Say,’ He started, ‘Ya ent plannin’ on ‘avin’ ‘im tied up out there all night, are ya?’

Merrick  held up his whiskey glass, ‘Don’t know ‘bout that, ‘pends ‘ow long this place teks to throw me out!’

‘Nah,’ The man shook his head, ‘We can’t be ‘avin’ that! That ‘orse is too damn fine a specimen to be out in’t cold of the night, like! And I bet ya there’ll be men out there eager af’er ‘im!’

‘Well, I got nothin’ else I could do wit’ ‘im, so, let them try.’

‘Nah! I won’t ‘ave it!’ He slid off the stool, ‘Say, why don’t ya put ‘im in mah ol’ stable fer’t night. And say ya could crash at mine, sleep on’t floor.’ He held up his hands, ‘No luxuries at mine, mind,’ He looked Merrick up and down, ‘But the floor’ll do fer a man lik yasel’ I reckon!’

Merrick  mulled this over for a moment, ‘Well, first, at least give me a name.’

‘Jackson Whitlock.’ Jackson nodded across to Merrick, ‘Yasel’?

Merrick  smiled wistfully, ‘Should ya be invitin’ a man ‘fore ya even know ‘is name?’

Jackson shrugged, ‘Well, tell us yer name and we won’t be strangers forever.’

‘A man can be called many names, don’t mean ya know ‘im.’

‘Reet, wise arse.’

‘It’s Merrick , though.’ Merrick  held out a hand, ‘Nice to meet ya, Jackson.’

Jackson shook his hand firmly.

Merrick  slid off the barstool, ‘Shame ah got brown eyes, ent it eh?’ Merrick walked out of the bar.

Jackson frowned and followed him outside. ‘So we gettin’ this fine boy to the stables, or what?’

They walked Tucker across the road and into the stable, ‘Ow comes ya got an empty stable?’ Merrick  looked around at the bales of hay inside the hastily built place, ‘If it can be called a stable.’

‘I used’t’ ‘ave a horse.’

‘Used’t’?’

‘’E up and died on me dint ‘e?’

Merrick looked at Tucker and stroked his long face, a feeling of dread at the thought of losing him swelling his heart. ‘Yea, ya ‘ate to lose ‘em’

‘Ent that right!’

Once they’d got Tucker in and comfortable, Merrick followed Jackson into the wooden shack beside it.

‘Luckily for you,’ Jackson said as he rummaged at the back of a room behind a bit of unfinished wall that jutted out near the toilet, ‘I got two sleepin’ bags!’ Jackson threw a green sleepin’ bag at Merrick and took out a blue one for himself.

‘Say, ya think they’ll be back?’ Jackson asked casually.

They sat back to back while they each undressed.

‘I think they came wit’ indifference and left wit’ indifference.’ Merrick replied, taking his socks off.

Merrick stood from his sleeping bag and piled his clothes neatly on a wooden rocking chair to the left of the toilet.

‘Wow,’ Jackson looked Merrick’s naked body up and down, ‘Ya ent shy at all, Sir!’ His eyes drifted down to Merrick’s feet, ‘Let’s see what ya got,’ he said, ‘Webbed feet! Me too!’

Merrick got into the green sleeping bag beside Jackson on the floor, a torch light lit up between them.

Jackson gasped now he had a better view of Merrick in the light, ‘Gills!’ He pointed to his neck, ‘I didn’t think anyone ‘ad ‘em! Thought it were a myth!’

‘Well, ‘ere I am, your mythical bein’ in’t flesh!’

A letter from Mammaroon: Daughter

Dear Friends,

How are things on earth?

The other day the Mammamarians put me into a bubble-shaped cart that hung from a steel wire.
And with great speed it travelled along the rope till it came to a halt that felt to me just in the nick of time, as just inches away from where it stopped was a perilously tall building that looked to be made of graphite.
And once I overcame my shock from being in new surroundings and the movement and near crash of my cart, I saw a vast network of tall buildings like the one I had stopped by before me.
There were no windows or doors on these buildings, none that a man’s eye could see anyhow.
But at once, a hole opened up in front of me, and my bubble cart moved slowly through the hole.
The hole instantly closed behind me, and I was inside the graphite tower!
And many small Mammamarians ran up and down little ladders and over many, many landings like boobacious spiders!
My ball cart moved with a slow precision as another hole opened up. I was back outside, on the other side of the building.
And the speed returned with force forcing my face up against the glass; my nose squashed against it.
The cart came to a sudden halt just as it did the first time, and after a moment or two of waiting, a hole opened up, and the cart slowly entered.
And once I entered the building, the cart started free-falling!
And down I went, my heart beating violently against my chest and my eyes no doubt bulging from my head in terror!
My hands against the glass, I screamed, my fingers trailing through the fog of my breath on the window.
And then there was a wailing sound like a crying baby.
The more I screamed, the louder the crying became, as if competing with me.
The ball cart luckily came to a halt when a giant metal hand grabbed hold and connected us back up to another steel wire.
A hole opened up in the wall before me, and the bubble cart entered a room that looked like any other room you might see in a house back home!
That was when I saw the source of the wailing: a baby in a cot, arms above their head and legs up in the air.
Next to the cot was a space currently behind drawn curtains.
Would you like to hazard a guess as to who was behind the curtains?
Well, if it wasn’t Alice!
‘My god!’ I recall myself saying, ‘Alice! Where have you been…’ But as the words escaped my mouth, it dawned on me, ‘The baby is yours?’ hoping my shock didn’t afflict my face.
Alice smiled that wistful smile, the same smile I saw her lips bear last time, ‘It is our baby,’ She said, holding out her hand. ‘Come on,’ She said.
I grabbed her hand, and she spun me back to face the baby in the cot.
‘I thought you were…’ I looked down at the baby’s feet which were up in the air, ‘I thought you were an android.’ I gulped.
‘I am.’ Alice replied.
‘But,’ I pointed at the baby, ‘How?’
‘I have an artificial womb.’

Can you believe that? An artificial womb in an android?
I never expected to have a child, what with mainly fucking men and rarely being able to orgasm if I slept with a woman.
Not to mention that back on earth, back on that sweet blue, green home, I was told by a doctor that my swimmers weren’t very…well up for swimming, quite frankly!

I looked at Alice, stunned! ‘How…But I..’
‘We had to help your little guys out a bit.’ She smiled.
‘Yea?’ I said, picturing sperm with armbands on like a cartoon.
‘Don’t worry about it. The fact is, now you have a little daughter!’
Well, what indeed was I supposed to say to that?
‘I know you’re in shock.’
‘Shock? That’s….That’s an understatement. I’m horrified.’
‘You don’t like your daughter?’ Alice asked, a look of disdain on her android face.
I looked down at the baby in the cot, but my brain could not compute that this little ball of flesh and bone was my child, my daughter.
‘I don’t know that I believe any of this is real,’ I replied finally.
‘Pick her up, hold her.’ Alice said in an enchanting voice.
I swallowed my scepticism, which went down my throat like a frog.
I picked up the little bundle of flesh and bone, and the baby spread her fingers out on her little hands, looked up at me and with salty tears making tracks down her face from the crying, she smiled up at me.
I put her hand in mine, and it felt real.
But so did Alice. So did Spoon.
‘What are we going to call her?’ Alice asked.
‘We?’ I looked at her, the babies hand still in mine.
‘Yes, we.’ Alice tilted her head and looked at me like I was an alien. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.
‘Well, she should take your surname.’
Alice smiled, ‘And her first name?’
‘I don’t know!’ I baulked and put the baby back in the cot.
‘Aww look, she’s going to sleep now she’s seen her daddy!’ Then Alice crept as quietly as possible towards me and put a hand on the small of my back, ‘Shall we go to bed now and try to get some sleep?’ She said, with a yawn, pushing on my pack to usher me behind the curtains.

So that’s all the latest news for you! I’m out of the fish tank, and now it seems like playing ‘happy families’ with Alice somewhere on this boobacious planet!

Yours faithfully,
Holden Mcgroin.

The wonders of Alice’s blue, blue eyes.

Dear friends,

I hope my last two letters greeted you soon enough on your doormat.

The artificial nights and days have merged so much that I’m not entirely sure I’m sane anymore, but should a person ever be so sure they are sane?

The Mammamarians took a keen interest in my relationship with Spoon after initially turning a blind eye.
To be truthful with you, I can’t get it up with them watching so intently.
I told Spoon, ‘I’m impotent towards you now; it’s over.’
Spoon didn’t cry; he just said, ‘I’m an android; I don’t care if you’re important.’
I repeated to him, ‘I’m impotent.’
Spoon turned to me and said, ‘Alright, big head.’

Since Spoon and I came to an end, they have introduced a new android, a female one.
She’s called Alice.
‘Hello, Alice, I’m Holden’ I introduced myself awkwardly, not daring to look into her very blue eyes.
‘Hello, Holden,’ She said, ‘Would you like to be my lover?’
I thought to myself this is very forward and quick on the draw.
‘I don’t know about that yet,’ I told her.
She looked over at Spoon, and when she turned back to me, she frowned, ‘You prefer the men?’
I shrugged, ‘It’s not so much that, it’s that I barely know you.’
At this, she smiled, ‘I heard you didn’t know Spoon that well before you spooned him.’
I thought on that a moment, and she did have a point.

I took a few days to get used to Alice’s presence.
Spoon kept glaring at me and then walking heavily around the tank.
‘I meant no harm,’ I told Spoon.
‘You can’t harm me; I’m an android.’ He told me.
‘You are acting pretty hurt,’ I told him.
He’s been like that with me ever since.

Now at night, when the Mammamarians turn off the artificial sunlight, they flash strobe lights as if I am out clubbing and then Alice starts dancing and trying to entice me closer to her.
But if she is hearing music, I do not hear any!
Which only makes her dancing appear more strange to me!
I asked Spoon one night when I felt like I was disassociating from reality, ‘Is Alice real or a hallucination?’
Spoon just nodded and said, ‘Yes.’
‘Which one are you saying yes to?’ I asked him.
He just sneered at me, lay himself down, and went to sleep!

Then last night, all things seemed to come to a head (quite literally), legs were tangled, and hair was ruffled.
And in the deep blue pools that were Alice’s eyes I lost myself in the moment, and alas, I came to with a shudder, and she looked up at me with an ever so wistful smile, ‘That good for you?’
I hesitated to reply; my humanity and thus, inability to not keep my animalistic passions in check was burdensome on my shoulders.
I must admit to feeling like Frankenstein’s monster, as her human-like blue eyes reflected her regret at me.
‘It wasn’t so good for you.’ I replied.
‘I’m an android; it neither felt good nor bad.’
And what a jarring reply! Yet despite her supposed neutrality, the misgivings afflicted her face with an all too human expression.

When I awoke, Alice was nowhere to be found in our little domesticated fish tank.
I have asked the Mammamarians where Alice is through Spoon.
And Spoon did speak with them, but I can only trust his word that he did ask on my behalf.
He told me that the Mammamarians told him, ‘Alice’s whereabouts are of no concern to us.’
Whatever the hell that is supposed to mean.

And so I am left with Spoon and the other androids who pay me no mind, talk none and flit around the tank like goldfish.
I may be foolish enough to hanker after Spoon’s company again come artificial night.

Yours faithfully,

Holden Mcgroin