Why Tarantulas Make The Best Stuffed Animals - Karl:Mission 89-7
Beau and I are quiet on the drive back to town but we’re both smiling the entire ride. When we get to the hotel Beau announces, ” I’ll be back for a victory dinner after a shower. It’s on me!”
“That’s sounds great.” I say. “Does six work?”
Beau nods, yes.
I grab my duffle bag from the back of the jeep and head into the overly air-conditioned motel room. The window unit is humming at full blast.
My clothes are caked in dust and sweat. I shed them quickly and head to the shower. The water feels absolutely luxurious after the desert heat and dust. I let it hit the top of my head and enjoy the cleansing feeling as the water rushes toward the drain taking the day’s grime with it.
It’s hard to dress appropriately. They keep the inside cold enough to freeze Popsicles and the outside will melt an iceberg. I toss on some jeans and a tee shirt for dinner but add a sweater while I’m in my room.
I don’t know why I head to the duffle bag but I go over and pick it up. There’s short a message in a round circle that I’ve never seen before. “Place your hands in the grips.”
“That’s weird.” I think, but proceed to follow the message’s instructions. The minute I place my hands in the grips the stuffocator pops up a small protrusion in the top of the tube that points directly at me. A second later my motel room seems to expand and a flimsy irregular hole about 5-6 feet in diameter opens about a foot from the mouth of the stuffocator. Standing in the hole is V smiling at me like a Cheshire cat.
“Hello there!” he says, clearly having fun with the surprise.
I’m still confused by what’s happening and ask, “What is this?”
“Remember when Finn said he had made a new breakthrough. Well this is it. Previously, inanimate objects could manage it through the quantum time fold. Now we can send live messages. Cool huh?” V asks like the kid who just found out he gets to go to Disneyland.
“The piece that popped up on top of the stuffocator is the camera. It captures your face and mounts it on top of the avatar body that Finn created. Then the sending stuffocator manages the link to the receiving stuffocator. Once your hands are in the grips the link completes. This being your lucky day, you have the great fortune of linking to me from the heat stroke capitol of the world.
Finn calls the phenomenon of creating the quantum time fold ‘parallelling’ and like a true geek he calls this communication channel his ‘view widget’.”
“Sounds like Finn.” I say shaking my head.
“By the way, Finn and I happened to be talking when you stuffocated the brown-tip tarantula. I ‘felt’ the stuffocation. I can’t really describe it other than it’s similar to the feeling you get when you put your hands in the grips…but a lot stronger. When I told Finn he didn’t seem surprised.”
“The other thing that was way cool was watching all those cute little stuffed tarantulas start to appear in the StuffedZoo Receiving Department. Talk about weird. A hole opens up like this only it’s just large enough for the tarantulas to pop through. A stuffed tarantula comes flying out…the hole collapses and a second later reopens with the next stuffed tarantula. If anyone was to describe this to me I’d write them off as total loony bin material.”
With a big grin on my face I say, “I understand totally!”
V smiles back. Then he says, “I couldn’t understand why Finn wanted stuffed tarantulas to begin with. I knew he had a request for one but I’m sure he gets a billion requests. However, once I saw these little guys I changed my mind…they’re really cute! They have super soft fur and with 8 legs to wrap you in you get more appendages per hug. I’m a convert.” he says as he holds up one of the stuffed tarantulas for me to see.
“When are you coming home?” V asks.
I wasn’t ready for the rapid change in subject…particularly the change to this subject. I stammer a second before saying, “My flight leaves at noon tomorrow from Austin. I should get in about 2:30pm LA time.”
“Can I pick you up?” V asks.
“Sure.” I say, totally conflicted. I had been absorbed in the hunt for the brown-tipped tarantula and its stuffocation. Thoughts of V had been conveniently set aside. Now I have to face myself. I’m my own worst enemy. “I hope I don’t screw this one up.” I think as I smile at V and say, “Bye, see you tomorrow.”
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