He heard
of people that started their life anew, and had attempted to do the same. He
set fire to his foster parents’ home, stole all of the cash in the cupboard and
left his world behind. By the time the energy in his legs gave way, he had
outrun five policemen and a car, climbed across a bridge, jumped five fences,
and sought refuge in a garden as big as his world had been small. He woke up in
a world where the air didn’t smell of mold and diesel petrol and the sun
embraced his weary body. Immediately he slipped out of his tight t-shirt, stuck
to his chest with sweat, and let his thin arms dangle lazily to the sides. He
wiggled his taunt shoulders as he basked in the sunlight of a different,
happier color.
He likes
his nickname better than his actual name, so we’ll call him Talon instead of
Whitney. He is short for his age with tan- coloured skin stretching thinly over
his muscles and face. His cheekbones make a good frame for the dark eyes on the
sides of his upturned nose. He pushed his bangs away as rustling came from the
thick brush. At first he blushed. He never showed his bare chest to anyone, let
alone while wearing ripped pants and no shoes. Then the blood rushed away as he
saw a behemoth of a crocodile saunter out of its nest into the sunny morning, its
mouth open to accept the sun’s rays. He slid to the reptile’s side, feeling
increasingly more comfortble wearing only pants, and hopped on a felled tree.
“’Morning,
Crocky. Out for a stroll?”
It
stayed put, charging its body like it fed off of light.
Talon’s
stomach rattled beneath his ribcage as images of food raced across his mind. He
wished he had brought something edible with them before he left. Talon ignored
those gripes as the sun waved at the moon as they passed each other by.
They
strode off into the murky water of the lagoon, the tiny boy on the lookout for
their favorite prey; rabbit.
Sure
enough, as they lazily drifted through the water, they found a herd of white
rabbits grazing a field like a spot amongst the shady pear and sycamore trees.
Talon sunk into the warm water and crawled up the sloping shoreline, Crocky
waiting by the brook. He crawled on all fours to the edge of the trees on the
other side of the spot, his fingers and toes smudged to the point of matching
the dirty forest floor.
The
morning sun heated up the air to a stifling degree as he felt the sweat drops
fall down the line of his spine and from his bangs into his eyes. He blinked
them away as he waited for their absolute silence. Then came the fun part; he
leapt out from the shelter and gave chase to the heard of hundreds of rabbits.
“OOGA
BOOGA OOGA BOOGA LAYAYLAYLAYLAY HA!”
He
laughed as he screamed, the sweat flying off of his face and cooling him off.
Talon knew exactly where he was pushing them to.
The
lagoon. Into the mouth of a patient crocodile. They did this since he had
raised it from a tiny egg floating down the snake river in Kensington Gardens.
Talon rested on the crocodile’s ragged back, chewing the remains of a rabbit
leg. They got 15 rabbits today, enough to keep Crocky full and content. They
floated down the river in complete bliss, even so far as to fall down a
waterfall without batting an eyelash.
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