OH, I DO ENJOY KEEPING THE BOY ON HIS TOES. PLEASEÂ trust that I mean
no harm. Quite the opposite. Some humans require this for their own good, to be challenged. I can relate. My brain is a powerful device, but it is hampered by my circumstances, and he is much the same.
Of course, I want him to have a happy ending. Tova as well. It is, you might say, my dying wish.
Anyway, on to tonight’s topic, which is paperwork. Humans and paperwork: such waste. If their memories were not so deficient, perhaps they would not need so many written records.
But tonight, I have paperwork to thank.
The rope he installed on my tank was no obstacle. When the time came, after he had finished cleaning and departed, I unfastened the knot and lifted the lid in quite the same manner as I always do. Should I be insulted by his underestimation of my abilities?
The route to Terry’s office was rife with temptation, but The Consequences come on ever more quickly these days, so I forsook every tempting mollusk on the way. The Pacific geoduck clam exhibit looked especially ripe for the picking tonight. The humans call them gooey ducks, but their texture is pleasantly firm.
But no gooey ducks tonight. I had more important plans.
And to be honest, my appetite is rather poor these days.
When I suckered up the side of Terry’s desk, I found the central object of my mission.
A driver’s license. Just like the one in my Collection. It states a human’s full name and date of birth.
As the seconds ticked by and The Consequences loomed, I carried the thin plastic card down the hallway. By the time I arrived at my destination, I had already begun to feel terribly weak. With effort, I tucked it under the tail of the sea lion statue.
My return journey was slow and difficult. More than once, as I heaved my heavy body along the cement hallway, I pondered the possibility that I might perish. Right then, right there. Never to taste a scallop again. Never to feel my arms sucker onto the cool glass, to taste that humanity on the inside of her wrist, to touch, in turn, my Collection’s treasures. If I had died tonight, would this errand have been worth it?
Indeed.
Tova did not come tonight. She may not come tomorrow, but she will come. I am confident she will not leave without saying goodbye.
She will not be able to resist running her rag under the sea lion’s tail. She never can. She knows she is the only one who does.
When she does, she will see what I have left for her. And then she will know.
