My last posting of 2016 was the first installment of this story, the first two chapters. I'm now adding the next two for your enjoyment. Hope you like it!
Chapter Three – In the Time After the Beginning
‘Aurora’ as defined in the Online Dictionary is:
(lowercase) Meteorology. a radiant emission from the upper atmosphere that occurs sporadically over the middle and high latitudes of both hemispheres in the form of luminous bands, streamers, or the like, caused by the bombardment of the atmosphere with charged solar particles that are being guided along the earth's magnetic lines of force.
‘Aurora’ as defined by his mom and dad is “…the sweetest little boy you could ever imagine…the sparkle in his daddy’s eyes…the love of his mother’s life…the wonder of it all…the beauty of creation…” and so on, you get the point. Aurora, in his very short time on this planet has been that wonderful thing, a healthy growing, bouncing baby boy, and nothing like a radiant emission from the upper atmosphere.
“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!” the shriek from the child split the night stillness like an axe to a melon. The parents of the newborn boy at first would sit bolt upright with the night terrors, acutely certain their child was dying the proverbial ‘thousand deaths’! Gradually, as the nights rolled into months they realized an awareness, and then promptly fell into their roles of the Oscar winning academy members…feigning sleep so well that a coroner would have difficulty determining their state of consciousness.
“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!”. Again. And again. Finally Myra could feign no more. “Your turn Ches” she spoke with authority, leaving no room for rebuttal nor refusal. With a grunt and a mild “Ugh fuck” Ches pushed feebley against the mattress, willing his head to rise above the folds of the pillow he’d burrowed into.
“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!” The wails were more urgent this time. “Hold on Cocoa (as Ches had affectionately begun referring to his son as), Daddy’s coming”. As if in answer to his voice his son replied ““WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!” but this time not so urgently. The tiny child could feel waves of love and warmth, wafting into the room as it entered and approached his crib. He had already heard the shuffle of his father as he placed the milk into the microwave oven and warmed it in its bottle en route to the baby. He now could see the light changing as Dad came into the room and cooed at the little child “Here you go Cocoa. This is what you’ve been waiting for eh boy?”
“Gurgle” Cocoa sighed contentedly, sucking the rubber like nipple, feeling the warmth of his mother’s milk oozing out of the bottle his Dad had ever so lovingly warmed up in the oven. “Gurgle gurgle” he repeated, then smiled as he passed gas…then passed more than gas. “Gurgle!” he laughed. This brought a smile to his father’s lips even though Ches knew from whence it came. “You’ve shit yourself again haven’t you boy? Making a little smelly package for Dear Old Dad to clear away for the third time tonight…little bugger”.
Ches grinned. He didn’t really mind doing that diaper thing. It certainly wasn’t as bad as gutting an animal, or cleaning a partridge. His mind flashed to that time he had gone birding with his buddy, Barth, a part Inuit, part European fellow, who showed him the quickest and easiest way to clean partridge. He placed the bird on its back, wings outspread and stood on them. The unfortunate dead bird’s feet were sticking straight up in the air all grotesque like and then Barth deftly and quickly grabbed both legs and pulled solidly upwards! The partridge’s belly tore open at nearly the same time the wing sockets dislocated and the entire body of the bird slid literally out of its skin, leaving nothing behind except the two wings pinned beneath Barth’s feet. That, and a carcass of feathers with a tiny beaked skull dangling unnaturally off to one side.
Barth chucked the meaty body into the sink then reached down, picked up the body parts to discard and glancing at the wings muttered “their wings are too small to bother with… and it’s a fuck of a lot quicker than plucking”. He then proceeded to repeat the process with the sack full of the day’s hunting bounty.
“It’s only shit after all. I don’t know what the fuss is about with all those women at the play group”. What he was referring to was the ‘drop-in’ styled parents’ association where the Moms and Dads of newborns could escape to for some relatively sane adult conversations while still providing the 24/7 degree of care demanded of their station. “Shit is easy enough to clean up…if you get to it quick”.
Reaching for the warm damp facecloth he thought again for the ‘who knows how many times’ “ My advice to everyone who discovers they’re about to have a bundle of joy…is start buying facecloths. You can never have enough of the things. Face cloths are your friends”.
Ches cleaned up Cocoa’s bottom and gently placed the diaper snug about his waist. He glowed down at the boy looking up at him. “ Those eyes are beautiful, so full of life and fun”
“Fun and mystery…and mischief” he found himself realizing. “ Cocoa’s eyes make me think of mischief”. He tucked his son in and removed the bottle from his suckling mouth. Ever so daintily Chesley dabbed a dribble of mother’s milk away from Cocoa’s tiny lips. He pulled the ‘yellow duckies’ blanket up to the boy’s chin and smiled. “Goodnight.” He softly spoke lovingly “and sleep tight son”.
As Ches quietly left the room, shutting the door gently behind him and crawling back into bed with Myra an owl hooted off in the distance. The soft wilderness sound was just enough to wake a tiny child momentarily. Just long enough to fart and burp again…then fill his diaper.
“Gurgle” the boy smiled as he peed again as he contentedly drifted off once more.
Chapter Four – Time Keeps on Ticking
As time kept ticking on, little Aurora Borealis Pelley grew and grew like all healthy children do. At the normal rate of fifty diapers a week he continued to do his bit to support the multi-national ‘Shit Handling’ industry, which was how Ches Pelley reffered to the big business surrounding little bowel movements. Stinks came and went with all the regularity of the tides, and when you’re a parent, as Ches and Myra were, that’s what you wanted...except when it was your turn.
“Myra! Your turn!” Ches gleefully bawled up over the basement stairs “ I did it last time!” Then looking at his little boy “Cocoa, my son, you stinks! I’m glad it’s your mother’s turn this time.” He carried Cocoa up to his waiting mother’s arms and happily deposited the boy’s wet smelly body into her care. “You look too friggin’ happy about this, you bugger” Myra smiled as she took Cocoa into her arms and headed to the change table, chastising Chesley good naturedly. Along the way she and her son passed by Triple Eff, the family cat.
Originally Triple Eff had been named ‘Sweetums’ by the Pelleys, but over time that moniker had degenerated into ‘Furry Faced Fucker’ as he wove in and out between the ankles of whomever happened to be closest to the top of the stairs, whom also was usually carrying something heavy or unwieldy. This further developed into his present name ‘Triple Eff’ because ‘Furry Faced Fucker’ just took up too much time to utter as Ches or Myra struggled to catch themselves, in a wild attempt to avoid serious injury at the hands of the inanimate but threatening stairs. This carry on at the top of the stairs seemed to never cease amusing the cat who sat and stone faced watched the gyrations.
“Meow.” Triple Eff would say.
“Frigger!” Myra would say (because being a lady, she would only utter ‘Fuck’ in the throes of passion).
“Fuck!” Chesley would say.
“Gurgle ha ha.” Cocoa would say.
But on this particular day Triple Eff looked at Cocoa as he was carried past in his momma’s arms, and just as he was about to dart between her legs he reared up suddenly! His attempt at amusing himself by having Myra fall UP the stairs for a change was thwarted by a frighteningly familiar voice inside his kitty brain. Do you know what the voice said?
The voice said “Gurgle Ha Ha Fucker”. And that was that.
Triple Eff blinked the blink of the thoroughly shagged up and fled, tail exploding into a billion fluffed up furry ends that would probably take all the afternoon to lick back into shape. That actually being a task the cat didn’t mind, since licking his tail was a pass time Triple Eff enjoyed nearly as much as getting the other inhabitants of the house to open a door, or shut a door. Or open and shut a door again, and so forth.
Yes, Triple Eff heard little Cocoa’s voice in his mind, not in his ears. This development was certainly not in the range of the normal ‘day to day’ for the cat. This was the opposite of normal. This was paranormal to say the least…and downright scary!
For his part, Cocoa heard the cat’s startled ‘meow’ as he had always heard the cat, but there was something different about it. As the cat fled in a flight that left bits of fur wafting towards the floor and shards of area rug trembling in its wake, Cocoa heard something like “What the fuck!!??” Except of course, Cocoa hadn’t developed much speech recognition past “Gurgle, Ha Ha” and “Da” and “Ma” and “Poopie” (and of course the aforementioned ‘Fucker’, so he didn’t actually ‘hear’ the cat). Instead he sort of ‘felt’ what it was like for a cat to say “What the fuck!!??”
Myra heard “Reoworrrmeowl!!!” and saw the cat in midflight, turn and look back directly at Cocoa, in what for all the world seemed to her to be astounded surprise. “Ches!” she called, “Will you put that friggin’ cat out of doors before he breaks my neck! The little bugger is in his ‘crazy hour’ and suddenly decided he had to be somewhere else in the house! Frightened the bejeezers out of me he did”!
“Right away Hon,” Ches replied as he didn’t particularly move any quicker than he was already moving. “Here Puss, Puss, Puss”. He looked around for a moment or two and when Triple Eff didn’t materialize he promptly shrugged and forgot all about it. Going instead, about his business of making up a batch of home brew beer for the ‘after party’ sure to follow Cocoa’s Birthday party, coming up in a couple of months.
“It’s been a good spring and summer” Myra thought to herself as she changed Cocoa’s diaper. “Nothing too much out of the ordinary” except maybe the string of really nice warm days we had in August. What was it the guy at Northern News and Books had said? Oh yeh…”It’s weather like you’d see down south somewhere, not what we usually get this time of year”. She smiled the warm loving smile of a mother as she beamed down into Cocoa Pelley’s eyes. “You’re like Mommy’s little Imp aren’t you handsome”? She lifted his bum and placed the new diaper underneath him and turned to dump the other in the waste bin. Cocoa smiled back at his mother and proceeded to pee directly up into the air, his fountain making a perfect arc as it rose then fell splattering all over the new diaper.
“Oh…Cocoa…” his mother said.
“Gurgle Ha Ha.” Cocoa giggled up into his Mother’s adoring eyes.