Get Lucky
cautiously and caressing your very being with their own deep love and leaving your self-respect undisturbed or perhaps even strengthened?’
‘I…I…did that?’ asked the same Shylock, with the multiple versions beginning to fade around him.
‘Yes, my Shylock,’ Permission said, moving forwards and taking his hand in her own and smiling. ‘That, and more. That’s when I knew I had found the one I love with all my heart.’
‘You love…me?’ asked the only remaining Shylock, unbelievingly. ‘Me?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, her smile breaking into light laughter. ‘I love you Shylock. Not your multiple-selves, just you,’ she confirmed, pulling him into her arms and kissing him lightly on the forehead.
Together they stood for a while. Permission relieved that she no longer had to contain her feelings and keep them from him, Shylock lost in an emotional turmoil the likes of which he’d never before experienced.
It was Permission who first pulled away. ‘So, my love. We still have to find Bb?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Shylock, his heart still beating surely at least five times normal rate. ‘But how?’
‘Why don’t we ask the one of the locals?’ she suggested, pointing to what appeared to be a hill in the distance…a green hill, with a solitary black and white cow grazing contentedly on it.
Shylock looked where she was pointing and grinned. ‘Of course!’ he cried. ‘The cow! Why didn’t I notice?’
Holding hands they scuffle-hopped their way across the dusty moon-surface, occasionally diverting from the direct route to avoid a few deep craters and crevices, but always heading towards the field in the distance. Slowly, they advanced until at last they stepped onto the grass at the edge of the field and immediately noticed the smell of the meadow and felt a warm summer’s breeze blow through their hair. The cow apparently noticed them for the first time at this point and looked their way briefly, only to return to cropping the grass, totally disinterested in her visitors.
As they walked towards the grazing animal, Shylock realised that it’s markings were somewhat unusual in that the front half was white and the rear black with a clear straight dividing line between. No more than a dozen steps away, they stopped and Shylock introduced Permission and himself.
The cow looked up first at him, then at permission, then once more lowered her head, moved a few paces and commenced chomping at some fresh grass.
Not put off, Shylock tried again. ‘We’ve come to ask for your help?’ he explained.
The cow continued chewing, contentedly.
‘We’d like to get to the other side of the moon, and wondered if you knew how we could go about it?’ Shylock persisted.
The cow continued chewing.
Turning towards Permission Shylock shrugged his shoulders. ‘Not a very helpful type,’ he said.
‘What’s in it for me?’ said the cow, unexpectedly, catching both Shylock and Permission by surprise. ‘I mean, why should I disrupt my nice peaceful chew, for you? Here I am minding my own business, enjoying my never-ending lunch, when along you come asking questions. Don’t you know it’s rude to talk to someone when they’re eating? Have you no manners on Earth?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Shylock said. ‘I’m sure we didn’t mean to be ru…EARTH!! How did you know I come from Earth? Or how do you know that Earth even exists when even Jonah didn’t until recently?’
‘Didn’t you ever learn to ask questions one at a time, otherwise you might confuse the person you are asking, and then you may not understand the answers?’ replied the cow.
‘I’m sorry,’ Shylock answered, annoyed by the cows parsimonious tone.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ paraphrased the cow. Other than questions, that seems to be about all you're capable of saying. Not the basis for a very meaningful exchange. I mean it’s hardly something that’s likely to make me stop chewing, is it?’
Shylock was just about to say something he might have regretted when Permission nudged him with her elbow and answered the cow’s remarks herself. ‘My travelling companion doesn’t always converse in such a meaningless manner, and I myself certainly do not, but perhaps we may start again by asking your own name?’.
‘Me, a name? I think not. I’m just a cow.’
‘But surely you are as entitled to have a name as anyone else?’ asked Permission, surprised by the cows answer.
‘Don’t know,’ replied the cow. ‘Never thought about it really.’
‘Well,’ Permission paused. ‘Perhaps you would like one now?’
‘Hmm, maybe,’ said the cow. ‘But what would I be called?’
‘How about Diane – Steak Diane,’ muttered Shylock under his breath.
‘Daisy?’ suggested Permission, to a blank stare from the cow. ‘Katy? Gertrude?…’
‘Florentine?’ suggested Shylock, reluctantly contributing to what he considered a completely asinine conversation.
‘Mooo, that sounds nice,’ agreed the cow, astonishing Shylock.
‘Very well,’ said Permission. ‘By the power invested in me by the Department of Null-Order, I proclaim you to be henceforth entitled Florentine, the cow.’
‘That’s it?’ exclaimed Florentine. ‘That’s all I had to do to get a name?’
‘Done!’ explained Permission.
‘Two questions,’ muttered Shylock.
‘Just wait till I get my hands on Bb!!’ Florentine said, angrily. ‘He’s been promising me a name for….oh, I don’t know how long…but long!’
‘Bb!’ Shouted Shylock. ‘That’s how you knew about Earth. You’ve seen him haven’t you?’
‘Seen him? I’m fed up seeing him! Every time life gets a little too hectic for him, he appears here and uses me as his personal vacation-transport.’
‘Transport?’ asked Permission, confused.
‘I get it,’ Shylock interrupted. ‘He climbs on your back and you take him to the other side of the moon. Right?’
Florentine nodded.
Seeing that Permission hadn’t followed him, Shylock explained. ‘Florentine,’ he said, pointing to the still attentive cow. ‘Is the cow that jumps over the moon – a children’s story where I come from – although she wasn’t actually called Florentine…that was some other cow.’
‘You mean she jumps over the moon…to the other side!’
‘Exactly,’ said Shylock, turning back to the cow. ‘And perhaps she would consider providing the same transport for us. How about it Florentine?’
Florentine frowned. ‘Well….just because you gave me a name….doesn’t necessarily mean I have to take you….I suppose I could….Bb never did that for me, and I’ve taken him over more times than I can remember.’
‘Please,’ interrupted Permission. ‘We really do need to talk with him on a matter of grave importance.’
‘Oh, very well, grumbled Florentine, reluctantly. ‘Climb on my back, both of you. You can use the maid’s milking stool to get up…and mind my flanks with your feet!’
The other side of the moon
As soon as Shylock helped Permission down from Florentine’s back, the black and white transporter jumped over the moon a second time, this time returning to it’s pasture-sweet-pasture.
‘And without so much as a farewell moo,’ remarked Shylock, watching Florentine’s rump disappearing over the horizon. ‘Grumpy mince!’
‘Shylock!’ Permission scolded. ‘She did help us after all.’
‘Hrrmmph!’ was all he could manage in response. ‘Let’s look around. Bb must be here somewhere.’
For the time, they did just that – look around, and were surprised to find that they were standing outside a multi-multi-storied yellow-brick building with the only irregularities in the façade being a shiny mirrored window and a large sheet-steel, heavily riveted and padlocked doorway. Shylock stepped towards the window, hooded his eyes and peered in. ‘Can’t see a thing!’ he told Permission, stepping back to stand beside her on the walkway. ‘What do you think this place is?’
 
; Permission shrugged, and was about to reply when a woman opened a small window within the window and looked out at them. Shylock grunted after Permission had poked him hard in the ribs. The apparition was naked except for a small loincloth covering her lower regions, and Shylock’s mouth had dropped embarrassingly as he stared at her.
The woman lent out of the window, resting her assets on the ledge in a provocative manner, and focussed her ‘come-hither’ smile solely on Shylock, who suffered a second rib injury in as many seconds - as the star attraction held out her hand towards him and coaxed him in with a curl of her forefinger and a pout of her ruby red lips.
‘Shylock!’ Permission whispered. ‘Behave yourself!’
‘Eh, uh, yes…of course…sorry,’ he stammered in reply.
‘Why don’t you come on in?’ the temptress asked. The voice coming not from the window, but instead, from behind where they stood.
Together they turned to find the woman now exiting from a steel doorway immediately behind them. Confused, Shylock turned back to the window, and sure enough it was the same woman also walking towards them. He turned once again to find the woman almost beside them – really quite stunning in her nakedness. ‘It’s a mirror!’ he exclaimed.
‘My but we have a clever one her, do we not,’ the temptress agreed. ‘Had you fooled for a while there. It doesn't work as soon as I speak though, unfortunately.'
‘But why?’ asked Permission. ‘Why a mirror? Why not just be in the window?’
‘In the window! You expect me to act like I’m for sale like…vegetables, or fresh meat?’
‘No…no..’ Permission