Page 10 of Transdolphin


  She leaned forward, and the back of her neck exploded with gore, exposing a hole. Air shot out of it. Kirsty began to sweat. Streams of water ran down her arms. Her feet splashed in a puddle. The restaurant was filled with steam. The windows were all fogged up. Everyone remained silent – just watched the free show. Kirsty lost her mind. She began punching the windows. She tore her clothes off and screeched. Her head got long. All her hair fell off. Muscles popped up all over her. Her screaming turned into a disorienting dolphin song.

  “Eeee! Eeeeeee! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  It was done. She was transformed. Kirsty had the head of a dolphin, and the body of a muscular woman. There was no tail.

  “I have arrived.”

  Everyone broke out of their trance and cheered! The band played on. Kirsty's boyfriend seemed concerned.

  “Kirsty, you need medical attention!”

  “Nahhh.”

  “Look at you!”

  “I feel fine. I feel so strong.”

  “Jesus, Kirsty, look at what you've become. You've changed into a monster! You need help of some kind! Who knows what's happening to your digestive system. Let's go to a hospital before it's too late.”

  Kirsty rolled her eyes.

  “I don't have time for this hullabaloo. I have people to save.”

  “You're sick!”

  “You just don't get it. I'm not sick, ya darn fool. I'm blessed.” She looked outside a broken window and saw a werewolf holding up a Japanese tourist at gunpoint. Kirsty grinned and looked at her lover. “Now...any more pearls of wisdom you wanna tell me before I run through the streets and vanish under the light of the full moon?”

  The guy couldn't think of anything else. Did it matter? Kirsty wasn't going to listen.

  “Don't wait up,” she said. “I'll be home late.”

  She ran out and chased the werewolf down the street and vanished under the light of the full moon.

  He sat down at his table.

  “What a perplexing situation,” he said to his lasagna. “Is this love?”

  As the noise of music and laughter filled my ears, I reached back to my blowhole and scooped some of that green stuff.

  “Mmm,” I nodded. “The mucus is the life.”

  LARS

  I was a big drunken mess that morning.

  Sometime during the night, my place burnt down. When I woke up, dogs were licking the soot off my cheeks and feet. After I spent some time walking around crying, I trained the dogs to go and fetch me beer and how to open bags of chips. I sat in my burnt chair and stared at the broken TV. I began thinking. Now what? Now what, Life? Huh? Any more bright ideas?

  And Life answered with a knock at the front door – or I should say: Door-frame.

  It was Beth! I wanted to jump off my chair and kiss her sweaty body. But I controlled myself to be still. Look strong, I thought. Demand respect. Control yourself. Control your southern lands. Ignore these erotic times.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Aloha.”

  She was holding a whole chocolate cake.

  “May I come inside?”

  “That's my job – if you know what I mean.”

  It was a joke. She wasn't smiling. I took the cake and let her in. She walked around, arms out – total shock.

  “What happened to this place?!”

  I turned my attention back to the TV and shrugged.

  “I think I burned the place down. Maybe I was sleep-burning. I don't care anymore. I give up. I lose. I am a loser!”

  I threw my beer can at the TV and cracked it. A family of centipedes in a variety of blues and yellows crawled out excited and hissing. I raised my legs and let them zigzag around my chair. I could feel Beth standing behind me.

  “I'm here to help you,” she said.

  “Forget about me. Save yourself! I'm an agitator. I'm hopeless. Run away! I might be contagious.” I hoped my plan wasn't too obvious: Make her feel sorry for me. Make her jump my bones. I opened another can. “I'm dead inside. Just let me drown my feelings in beer.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder, and it was like lightning shot into my heart and brought me back to life.

  “I want you to work for me,” she said. “I'm starting a new business called Transdolphin-Me. I'll be taking the dolphin out of people. Show them their true, strong selves. They'll be pure, like me. They'll live a life of purpose.”

  “And what do you want me to do? Mop the floors?”

  “Yes. The pay is good.”

  I downed the rest of my beer. My heart was racing. My imagination was erect. The scene was inspiring: Beth and I all alone at the office. I'd be mopping the floor. She'd sneak up behind me, goosing me, throwing me on a desk. Clothes off. Genitalia turned on. Exquisite lovemaking. Thank you, God. Thank you for this second chance!

  “Take my hand,” she said. “Work for me.”

  I took her hand.

  “I thought you gave up on me.”

  She pulled me to my feet, and we hugged. “Haven't you heard?” she asked. “I'm a saver of rotten souls. Trust me: I love you more than you know.”

  When her embrace loosened, I held tighter. Never mind that part about my rotten soul. Enjoy her hugs. Enjoy her musk.

  Birds flew through the living room. I was embarrassed.

  “I could use the money to find a new place. I can't stay here anymore. My home is dead. I done kilt it.”

  Beth wiped the drool from my mouth.

  “Don't you worry. You can stay at the church. I own it now.”

  The stray dogs barked at her. She growled, and they ran off crying.

  “Damn criminals,” I heard her whisper.

  I went into what was left of the bathroom and took a shower. The walls had burned down, leaving my nude form open for all the birds and dogs and cats and rodents to admire. For a second, I felt at total peace with nature.

  With myself.

  Sunday morning.

  Everyone at the church hugged me and shoved bread and fruits into my mouth. It was a grand feast – a howling welcome party. That other transdolphin – dressed like a nun – named Kirsty was break dancing in the middle of the long table, moon-walking, shoulder-rolling, head-spinning. I was impressed, to say the least. Beth sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. I was immediately aroused, hating myself just as quick.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I said. “I was real messed up back there. I need this job.”

  Beth grinned and hugged me. I wanted to throw myself onto her. She smelled like coconut and alcohol. She was drunk, but she was still in control. I, on the other foot, was losing control. My juices were boiling. It took great willpower to resist my normal urge for flesh-on-flesh action. I smiled as she spoke, nodding over and over. She didn't stop drinking and touching my leg. Was she testing me? Waiting for me to jump on her? Waiting to see if I'd crack?

  “...You're gonna love working for me,” she said. “You'll get dental insurance. Transdolphin-Me will be a great success. We'll be recording a commercial tomorrow. I want the whole island to see the glory of God.”

  I took her hand off my thigh to show I was tough.

  “Or the glory of Beth.”

  She laughed.

  “He works through me. I am in His image.”

  “Wait. He's a he and a she?”

  “And a dolphin.”

  I shot her a skeptical gaze.

  “You drunkard. You really think you can save humans? They're lifeless, directionless – hopeless.”

  She sipped her beer.

  “I saved you, didn't I?”

  I just sat there. No witty comeback this time. Beth got up, and they all went into a song and dance routine. I had my hands over my ears the whole time. Out front, people were coming in for mass. Beth and everyone else went to listen as the priest filled everyone with tales of death and fear. I stayed back. I already had my fill of history lessons when I was in Sunday school all those moons ago. Using church money, Beth bought and cleaned out an old den
tal office in Ala Moana Shopping Center. She hired a lot of the nuns as assistants and engineers. Kirsty was in charge of security, and I was the janitor.

  Transdolphin-Me was open for business.

  I was there in the office, mopping the floor, as the TV crew got ready to film the commercial. The director was French. One of those artistic types.

  “Let's do this all in one take. It'll be impressive. Film geeks will be praising my genius for decades.” He sat in his chair. “Action!”

  The lights faded in. Beth, sitting behind a desk, turned around in her chair and spoke to the camera.

  “Aloha, friends. My name is Beth. I'm a transdolphin. Chances are, you've seen me on your local news, busting criminals.”

  The camera zoomed out as a sad woman entered the scene.

  “I'm sad.”

  Beth got up and put a sympathetic hand on the depressed woman's shoulder.

  “Why are you crying, stranger?”

  “I feel like a dolphin trapped in a woman's body. How can I accomplish my life goals if I'm living a lie? If only there was some way to be my true self.”

  Beth smiled.

  “Today is your lucky day.”

  “It is?”

  “Would this face lie?”

  Beth laughed and looked at the camera.

  “At Transdolphin-Me, we use sophisticated technology to bring the dolphin out of you. Follow me to the Blessed Room!”

  The hand-held camera followed as she walked into another room. A naked man was in a glass box with Kirsty. Beth stood by a wall covered in blinking lights. A monitor read: Ready to go. Beth smiled at the camera.

  “Your lifelong dream comes true with a simple press of this large, red button.”

  She pressed it. Pepper traveled down a clear tube and filled the glass box. Kirsty turned around and sneezed green snot all over the man. He shook and poured sweat and scratched the back of his neck and transformed. In that short amount of time, the man had the head of a dolphin and a grotesque, muscular body. There was no tail. He stood tall and sure of himself and flexed for the camera. Kirsty felt his muscles. She seemed impress. The man was joyful.

  “It's all so clear now!” the new transdolphin roared. “I'm filled with confidence. I know my purpose. I know what I need to do to accomplish my goals. No more psychiatrists for me. I am found.”

  Beth walked up to him and shook his hand and felt his various muscles. She looked into the camera.

  “Yes, life is wonderful when you know who you truly are. If you'd like the dolphin brought out of you, give us a try,” she said. “Transdolphin-Me. Saving your soul since 2012.”

  Six transdolphins walked in and smiled at the camera.

  “We know who we truly are,” they said. “Do you?”

  The lights in the room dimmed. The director yelled, “Cut!” and much clapping followed. After everyone packed up and left, I stayed behind and mopped away their footprints. Where was Beth? Was she hiding from me? Was she going to surprise me? Goose me? Rip my clothes off? Would she French kiss me? Run her tongue across my erogenous zones? I worked for two hours. At three in the morning, I started to worry.

  Where was she?

  BETH

  In less than a week, I “blessed” a hundred people.

  Kirsty was a real trooper. She kept blowing holy mucus on clients even when she was overworked.

  “This is my destiny,” she said to me once. “This is my purpose.”

  I didn't argue. Whenever I saw she was slowing down – looking like she was about to fall over from exhaustion – I pressed a button on the computer-wall, and a fishing pole came down from the ceiling and entered the glass box and dangled a hundred dollar bill over her face. That trick always filled her with energy.

  Another week later, and hundreds of transdolphins were scattered throughout Oahu.

  Humans were getting irritated. Companies only wanted to hire transdolphins.

  “They always come to work on time,” said the owner of a watch repair shop.

  “They're hard workers,” said the owner of a fish market. “They do as they're told. God, bless them. Now.”

  Crime went down. The streets were so safe, it wasn't unusual to see unsupervised, little kids of all colors running through ghettos and screaming in play without fear of being shot or mangled. Transdolphins were on the lookout. Criminals lived in fear. Werewolves were thinking twice. Transdolphins were now dressed in police uniforms and driving around in cop cars.

  “They're stronger,” said an ex-officer on TV. “I once saw a werewolf shoot a transdolphin in the chest. The wounds just sealed right back up. I was horrified. I knew then I was gonna lose my job. Next thing I knew, the werewolf chops the transdolphin's head off with an ax...but it was all for naught. The dolphin picked its head up and popped it back on. The strands of meats weaved around the neck like shoe laces. And then it ran after the werewolf and tackled it and picked it up and tore it apart and bathed in its blood.” The cop began crying. “As mad as I am at losing my job, I am grateful to the dolphin for saving my life. So much so, that I have recently come to a startling revelation, and it is this: I think I'm a transdolphin trapped in a man's body. Hallelujah!”

  But it wasn't all good for the transdolphins....

  A curious problem came up. Something had to be done. I held a meeting with these new citizens. The church was alive with raising hands and nodding heads – so full of transdolphins, many standing against the walls, others crammed at the entrance. I stood at the altar, taking in as many questions and complaints as possible, but they were all the same, all boiling down to how hard – how frustrating – it was living and working with humans.

  “Like dealing with babies,” someone stressed.

  This grumbling went on for hours. In the end, I said:

  “Humans are a funny lot. Pity them, for they know not what they do. Pity your human lovers that have scorned you – your human families that still judge you. Most important of all? Don't let their ways change you. Don't let them brainwash you,” I said. “Live with dignity, pride, lordliness – gravitas! Hang in there, my dolphin friends. For in the end, we will have the final laugh. We will inherit the Promised Island.”

  This soothed them. Many were smiling gayly. I opened my arms and looked around.

  “Right. Now lower your heads, and let us pray for the damned unbelievers.”

  The place was so quiet, I heard cats fighting outside. Is it weird that I found it musical? Calming? When prayer finished, we all went out in the rain and helped old people cross the street, holding umbrellas over their heads, carrying their groceries home, driving them home, giving them piggyback rides home. We paid for people's parking fees and built a lemonade stand for some kids, and I pushed a stroller to help one mom get to the gynecologist on time.

  We asked each person if they would consider being transdolphins. Those that saw things our way, we took behind a tree and sprayed life-changing mucus on them and transformed them as neighborhood dogs barked. For those that weren't interested and wanted to stay human, we told them about the great flood that would most likely be coming. No use. Scare tactics didn't work. They didn't believe us. So be it. I remember telling my fellow transdolphins, “Let the dead bury the dead.”

  You can't force salvation. Humans had to honestly want it. I washed my hands clean of their inevitable deaths.

  On a lighter note, I saved some Japanese tourists from a local Filipino gang. I was picking guys up and tossing them around like pizzas, snapping arms into weird angles, hammering heads down to shoulder level, yanking out eyeballs, ripping out tongues. One of the goons punched me on the face. I took his fingers and pulled them apart, splitting them down the middle – all the way to his elbow. I didn't just scare them off, I punished them. I think I even “accidentally” scalped one of them. I have to admit, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed hearing those criminals cry for mercy. The tourists hugged me, gave me money, and we all laughed and pointed as we kicked the gangsters in the ass.

 
“Cry, you demons!” we all hollered as they ran off. “Cry – losers!”

  I asked the Japanese couple if they were interested in joining my “club house”. They agreed. The idea of being strong like me excited them very much. They even ended up telling all their friends.

  Interesting side story....

  A werewolf once came into Transdolphin-Me. Her name was Lusha. It was a full moon, and she was fully transformed, begging to be a transdolphin, begging to be saved. Kirsty was quick to grab a machete. I told her to calm down. “Let's give this poor soul a chance,” I said, petting the werewolf's head. “Let's see what happens.”

  I walked Lusha into the glass box with Kirsty, filled the box with pepper, and Kirsty sneezed mucus all over the werewolf. Lusha began shaking and sweating. Then her fur fell off. I couldn't believe it.

  “It's working!” I said. “Amazing! Imagine the possibilities!”

  Then things turned sour. I watched in sick fascination as her skin fell off. Then her meats. Kirsty ran out of there screaming.

  “It's too horrible!”

  Lusha's face bubbled like a pot of boiling water. Her guts slashed on the floor. The life in her eyes went out. Lusha was dead – standing up, chin to chest. The guts on the ground moved. Something was in there. I walked into the box to get a closer look. What I saw made my brain backpedal. A wolf ghost flew out, growled at me, and flew out the window. Kirsty stood next to me as the apparition vanished into the Moon.

  “Looks like your experiment failed,” she said.

  I looked at the dead thing in the box and smiled.

  “Did it?”

  I spread the word. Our divine mucus was deadly to the werewolf. Sure enough, it came in handy during tight situations. For example, a fellow transdolphin shared her exciting tale:

  “I had a terrible cold that night. I remember someone saying that drinking scotch would help. Believing that person – and with me being a vicious alcoholic – I went down to the liquor store. Standing in this long line, all of a sudden three mopeds came crashing through the window, knocking over shelves of medicine and girly magazines. The werewolves took off their helmets and aimed their guns at us and started barking orders that we get down and hold out our wallets. Holding a gun to a woman's head to keep me from killing them, they threw beer bottles at my face and yelled that transdolphins were nothing and that Boss Moshi was gonna kill us all. I turned around and sprinkled a bottle of pepper into my blowhole and sneezed. A savage amount of mucus flew out and covered them all in one go. The woman screamed an obscenity – complaining about her hair – and walked out with her nose in the air. And that's when the melting started. It was like someone dumped acid all over those werewolves. Mmmm...and hearing their screams was so very pleasing. When the dolphin cops got there, we just stood and watched while chomping on cheeseburgers. Grateful, the owner of the liquor store – a fat Chinese lady – took us to the back and gave us free acupuncture treatments. I'm not sure if it was that or the scotch, but my cold was gone the next morning! The end.”