Canto Sixty-Four – The Ruins of Tanith and Davalon’s Nesting Quarters
Farbick led his small band of rebels into the gaping hole the forward stabilizer arm of the Bonehead had cut into the side of the bio dome. The wreckage inside the building was pretty extensive.
“You really think we can stop the Senator?” Stabharh asked Farbick from directly behind the Telleron leader of the rebels.
“We can if we can convince more of his crew to join us in resisting his mad planetary death wish.”
“That’s going to be pretty hard. Senator Tedhkruhz is extremely evil and his men are mostly very weak minded.” Slahshrack was a real ray of sunshine in the gloom of the situation.
“We have to try,” said Starbright, “otherwise your species and your planet will be extinct.”
“Wait a minute, what’s this?” Farbick said, hearing a moan in a rubble pile and noticing a slight movement amidst the shattered concrete shards.
With Stabharh’s help he and Starbright began un-piling the stones, and soon two small Telleron bodies were revealed.
“Davalon! And is that Tanith with you?”
Davalon was holding Tanith tightly in his arms. The tadpoles were both bruised and bloodied, but technically still breathing.
“Can either of you still talk?” Starbright asked.
“A… a little…” Davalon was obviously wearied by the effort.
“What are you doing here?” Farbick asked. “You tadpoles should all be safe on board the mother ship. Why would Xiar send you here?”
“He… ah, didn’t. We took a wing without permission and came to help this world survive.”
“We… ah, didn’t know we were doing that last part when we… ak, set off on the adventure,” Tanith said with a painful wince.
“You both have extensive injuries. We have to get you both to someplace safe where you can hibernate and recuperate,” Starbright said.
“Do you know what this place is?” Farbick asked, since the tadpoles had apparently been in the place for a while.
“Yes… ouch… it’s a science facility where they are trying to restore the atmosphere of the planet and create new viable… ahg!…food sources.” Davalon was in quite a lot of pain.
“So scientists survived?” asked Stabharh, quite surprised.
“One,” answered Tanith. “A little Galtorrian girl named Sizzahl. But she’s… oof!… a very intelligent little girl.”
“She’ll be the reason Tedhkruhz came here,” said Stabharh. “He means to slay anyone and everyone who might be smart enough to bring this planet back to life.”
“We have to stop him,” Farbick said. “Where do you suppose he is now?”
“I don’t know,” said Stabharh, “and I have no idea how to find him.”
“When I was a little lizard,” said Slahshrack, “I would turn to the last chapter of the book and read ahead to find the answer.”
“We can’t do that here, stupid,” said Stabharh. “This is real life, not some idiot fiction book!”
“Yeah, too bad about that, huh.”
*****
Catch a Falling Star 
The Man in the Mirror
Every now and again we have to stop what we are doing for a moment and examine ourselves. If we are writers, we tend to do it every fifteen minutes or so. You have to expose the soul to the light of day for a moment and take a look with eyes wide open, prepared to see the worst… but also open to seeing beauty where you may not have seen it before.
So what do I see when I look in the mirror? More darkening age spots, more patches of psoriasis with increasingly red and irritated potential infections. Drooping eyes that have lost their sparkle and now darken with blue melancholy. I see a man falling down. Falling slowly, but falling never-the-less. It happens to everybody with age. I can no longer do the job I loved for 31 years. I am no longer the goofy Reluctant Rabbit with the big pencil in the front of the classroom, telling stories and making learning happen.
Once I was a big deal to little people. Once I created magical experiences involving books and great authors, poems and great poets… and I taught little people how to write and master big words. I mattered like a big frog in a small pond, able to make the biggest splash in that particular pond. I was the froggiest. But I haven’t drawn myself as a frog yet.
Of course, I was never as big as that other Michael. He made a really big splash in a really big pond. He was a really big frog.
He and I have a lot in common. Not far off in age. We got married about the same time. Both had three kids, two boys and a girl. Both were associated with Jehovah’s Witnesses at one point. Both of us never really grew up. He had Peter Pan Syndrome, and I stayed in school my whole working life.
And everybody has a dark side, in counterpoint to their better angels. I’m not entirely sure what my dark side entails. Being a grouch? A diabetic? A closet nudist? But I have one. I trot it out to make fun of it constantly.
But as I was feeling sorry for myself, being forced by the city to remove the pool, becoming a bankrupt poor guy thanks to Bank of America, and generally in such ill health that I feel like I am wearing a lead suit all the time, I stumbled across one of those life-affirming moments. A former student asked me on Facebook to post a picture of myself so he could see how I was doing. I posted this picture.
Yep, the man in the mirror is definitely me. I got loads of complements and howdys from former students, former colleagues, a former grade school classmate, and my Aunt Wilma. I heard from people I care about and they reaffirmed that they still care about me, even though some of them I haven’t seen in more years than I am willing to admit. Sometimes you have to look in the mirror to see what needs to be changed. Sometimes you just need to see the precious few things that were always good and haven’t changed. It is a process worth the effort.
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Filed under battling depression, commentary, empathy, feeling sorry for myself, grumpiness, humor, insight, inspiration, Paffooney, rabbit people, strange and wonderful ideas about life
Tagged as humor, Michael Beyer, Michael Jackson, rumination, self=examination