Journey To Light: Part I of the High Duties of Pacia
CHAPTER 13
Rafe and Belo § 2
“So why’s it a bad word?” Rafe asked as he walked.
“It just is. Very rude,” answered Belo from under the big guy’s jacket.
“You’re a grumpy one today. Ya want me to shut up?”
“I’m not grumpy. And you don’t have to stop talking. Tere is notting else to do while I’m riding on your back. It’s just tat conversations witt you go off in all sorts of strange directions.”
“Heh, heh. Good thing I don’t get mad when ya call me strange,” said Rafe. “And don’t change da subject. You guys really do suck.”
“Sometimes.”
“Admit it. You really do.”
“Rafe, you’ve seen me do it.”
“So you admit it? Say it, say it!”
“All right, I admit we suck,” sighed Belo.
“Hah!” Rafe exclaimed, followed by, “Heh, heh, heh.” Then he paused, trying to hold in the rest of the joke as long as possible.
“Go ahead and finish,” Belo said.
“Not me. I’m amazin’ nice.”
“You’re going to explode if you don’t let it out,” Belo told him. It was true. The big guy’s ribs were shaking from the suppressed laughter. It wasn’t long before the words burst out.
“So if you guys do suck, why is it so bad to call you suckers? Hah! Explain that. Why, why, why?” Rafe’s heh-heh-hehs continued for some time so Belo had to wait before he could respond.
“I really don’t know why. Technically, you’re right. It doesn’t make sense but we still get offended if someone says tat word.”
“So I shouldn’t call ya sucker anymore?”
“You’ve never called me tat before.”
“But I got to stop sayin’ sucker now?”
“How long are you going beat tis to deatt?”
“Interestin’ idea. Beatin’ to deaff, I mean,” replied Rafe. “But do I have to say kirropetarr . . . um, instead of . . .”
“Please don’t repeat it again.”
“Not say kirrepotoram? I thought it was a nice word.”
“It is. Calling us kiropterans is polite. You know which word I meant,” said Belo. Rafe muttered a generic low growl and his friend knew what the big guy meant also. “You don’t have to say kiropteran if you don’t want to. I’m of the Baktatta clan. You could call me a Baktattan instead.”
“Humpf.”
“Or you could just keep calling me Belo like you always have. It’s my name after all.”
“I’ll say korrropotern if I want to. Bakkatahter too.”
“Of course you will.”
“Or maybe bat-brain.”
“Tat’s a complement, actually.”
“Humpf. Just not fair, dat’s all.”
“What’s not fair?”
“Lupun is so runhh easy for you guys to say.”
“You’re right. It really isn’t fair,” Belo replied. “But it sounds like you want me to apologize and I don’t see why any of tese words are my fault.”
“Don’t have to say you’re sorry. Just admit it ain’t fair.”
“I already did.”
“Ummf.”
“Do you understand why I said conversations witt you can get strange?” asked Belo.
“Heh, heh, heh. I like bein’ strange.”
That tickled Belo too but his laughter came out more like eek-eek-eek than heh-heh. He asked, “Rafe, are you in a good enough mood for me to ask te same question in reverse?”
“What question?”
“About te fact tat lupuns really do rip.”
“I get it. You think I’ll rip your head off if ya call me that?”
“No, I don’t tink tat but I still don’t want to be rude.”
“Hah-hah-hah,” laughed Rafe. “Don’t matter to me what ya say. I know more bad words than anybody. I just don’t say them because I’m so nice.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I called you a ripper?”
“Hmmm. Better not. Some other lupun might hear. A lot of us ain’t even regular nice, let alone amazin’ nice.”
“Good point.” Deciding that he could risk one brief exposure to the sun, Belo stuck his head out from under the jacket and peeked around. Rafe was taking them through a small forest. Belo ducked back under cover and asked, “Are we going to stop and sleep soon? It’s almost high noon.”
“Soon as I find a place. Ya liked yesterday’s spot, didn’t ya?”
“Yes. It was very well shaded.”
“I take good care of ya.”
“Yes, indeed. You’re truly amazing.”
“Like I always say.”
“Tonight I’m going to try to fly more tan I did last night so you won’t have to carry me as much,” Belo said.
“I can keep goin’ all day. You’re pretty light to carry,” Rafe assured him. “But it’d be good for ya, doin’ your own thing and all.”
“Yes it will. Te skin has grown back over te hole in my wing, but I need to keep stretching te tendon tat got nicked by te arrow. Te more I exercise my wings, te better.”
“Good for ya,” Rafe said encouragingly. Then he paused a moment before saying more. “Belo, I got one more question.”
“What?”
“Then I’ll quit buggin’ ya about this.”
“All right. Ask your question.”
“It’s about da word sangwen . . . sangweena . . .”
“I tink you mean sanguinan.”
“Yeah, that. Try pernouncin’ a word like that wiff a mouff like mine and see how ya do. Well what kind of name is that anyway, bad or good?”
“It’s not supposed to be an insult but we really don’t appreciate it very much,” Belo replied. “It’s what men call us.”
“Yeah, I know,” Rafe sympathized. “But what can ya do? Dose guys just won’t shut up.”
“No, not at all.”
“Hey. Maybe we should tell them what names we call men. Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“It would but perhaps it’s not a good idea. Tere are so many men around lately.”
“Yeah, and not all of them are nice. Da rude ones sure are a pain in da ass.” As soon as Rafe said the words, they both thought of the punch line simultaneously.
“Just like getting bitten by a cat!” they shouted in unison. Delighted with their own hilarity, they laughed until they found a place to sleep.