SHARING EARTH WITH LIVING THINGS, EVEN THE CREEPY ONES

 

 

“Quick, where’s my camera?” he said.

“What?” she said.

“Birds.”

“Camera? Here it is.”

“These birds are huge. Look at that formation.”

“What are they?”

“Birds. Really big birds. What are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know these birds? Since when would you even admit it?”

“Right. Pelicans. Their beaks hold more than their belly can.”

“Yes they do. Same pelicans as New Orleans. Look, there’s Boogie Cousins getting rowdy.”

 

 

“Did you know birds have dog fights?” he said.

“No one should fight dogs. What was that Falcon’s name?” she said.

“He ended up an Eagle. I saw crows attack a hawk. It looked like a WWI slow motion dog fight.”

“Which one would you bet on, the pelican or the frigate?”

“I’m going with the one that flies in hurricanes.”

 

 

“I’ve seen these cormorants all fluffed up and just standing around. Why is that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Just sharing earth.”

“But you’re a bird expert.”

“Not so much bird behavior as birds. I know plants better.”

 

 

“Then I won’t ask what’s going on here,” he said.

“Let’s ask our bird buddies,” she said.

 

 

“I saw an iguana,” she said.

“Like a lizard?” he asked.

“Yes. Reptile.”

“Like an alligator and crocodile?”

“I saw one of those too.”

“Which one?”

“One or the other.”

“How close?” he asked.

“About three feet.”

“So let me ask, what if it came for you? What’s the plan?”

“That’s not what they do. They’re in trees.”

“Really?”

 

 

“Were they friendly?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“Did you pet one?”

“No. I’m not petting a wild reptile. Sharing earth is fine.”

“What about the bond you had with your pet chameleon that lived ten times longer than any other chameleon bought at a circus?”

“That was special. I asked my mom to buy it at the Barnum and Bailey Circus. It lived three years.”

 

 

“Do you miss your lizard?” he asked.

“His name was Sham,” she said. “I’m not afraid of reptiles. Not even snakes.”

“Snakes?”

“I think I saw one over here. Look.”

He leaned over to look. She tweaked his ankle for the fake snake bite. He jumped.

“Funny,” he said. “That’s not a snake.”

“Keep looking,” she said between laughing fits.

 

 

“I’m not afraid of snakes,” he said.

“That’s not what the snakes say,” she said, gulping for laughing air.

“I’m not afraid of eating an octopus.”

She held her stomach from laughing.

“Octopus? Like eight little snakes? Never happen, but I’d like to see it,” she said.

“You’ll see it. You’ll see a tentacle hanging over my lip.”

She started taking small steps and laughing even harder.

“Where’s the bathroom?”