Mumenos are the reason I'm here in this café. They ordered an observer, Spongi were the organizers, and that mysterious shaggy-haired creature did the dirty work. Literally. That back alley on the night of the abduction was far from clean.
It makes sense why my future is being revealed to me bit by bit. If everything had been dumped on me on that first night, when the bald bartender served me black coffee with sugar while the talking cat stood guard… No chance. Now, at least I know Winston and Pearl and most of the crew, not considering them dangerous. Back then, danger was firmly present, fear my second name. Given the circumstances, the danger may never completely disappear, even if no one says so out loud.
Speaking of this shaggy-haired figure, she materialized into a living character just a moment ago. Along the rushing stream, Twirppies and their language have already been left behind on the passing shores. The reflection of this moment is still visible on the back wall of my brain, even though it's slowly being mixed with new events. It's pointless to hope for time to digest all this. So let's hope instead that I don't get indigestion.
I wonder if I'll have time to take care of my overworked mind on my upcoming spaceship trip. The order placed by Mumenos includes a longish voyage. It will take me beyond the observable universe as seen from this corner of space. There is nothing particularly sci-fi about that, because there is plenty of space, even if we cannot see all of it. However, there is plenty of sci-fi in the speed and manner of travel.
Aldebaran, on the other hand, can't be very far away, because you can obviously get here quickly for a cup of coffee. Or, in the case of this Aldebaran heroine, a large glass of vodka. Her name is Dig, and she is the one who abducted me. My memory of our previous encounter is completely clouded. I didn't remember Dig as being a little over a meter tall and dressed in a very Jedi-like outfit. Her hood tries to hide her unruly hair. To some extent. When she greeted me, her speech sounded like a vowel breeze blowing through a summery fern forest.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Wurp did his job with honor, but a strange occurrence a moment earlier had snapped something in my brain. Wurp's translation didn't get through, so I muttered something incoherent and was left standing next to the bouncer, staring dumbly at the woman's almost floating gait as she made her way across the café's red carpeted floor toward the bar counter. Why was I standing next to the bouncer guarding the cloakroom and front door instead of sitting at my usual corner table? I had followed Pearl because I'm stupid like that. And nosy.
I saw Winston pour Dig a pint of clear liquid without being asked, and Dig smoothly climbed into what was obviously her regular spot. Pearl flitted to the bar like a superconducting fluffy ball. Dig stroked Pearl. Just like that. No blood. No missing fingers. Without any consequences. This small incident, along with the peculiarity I saw at the entrance, are the reasons why I'm still so confused while writing this.
There was hardly a hint in the air that Dig had arrived when Pearl literally rushed to the front entrance. And immediately rubbed against the short figure who had stepped inside. Almost embraced her. And then spoke warmly to her. Like two friends who had experienced more together than anyone could ever write in a biography.
Winston must have seen the bewildered look on my face as I stumbled past the bar toward the staircase leading downstairs. I took several unnecessary steps, but I just had to get a better look at what was happening at the counter. The bartender guided me in the right direction and said that Pearl hadn't changed in any magical way. The circumstances were just different now, but to everyone else, this Siamese creature would still be the same queen she always was.
If I can just get myself together, I need to start writing down the stories behind these characters and species. My confused mind conjured up a recent encounter with the Guuverts and the hint I received about their connection to Earth and oranges. Then there are the secrets of Twirppies, the connection between Dig and Pearl, and those strange Mumenos, whom I am going to visit. Writing is a way to organize the thoughts swirling around in your head, as it has been told to me numerous times. This diary has certainly been a great help in my integration into this strange community. Even though my membership has not been voluntary.
In my next diary entry, I'm sure I'll be much wiser than now. And when I gather my courage and return to the café, I still won't put my hands too close to Pearl. Maybe one day my connection to this special cat will grow deeper. Maybe. Until then, I'll continue to be her subordinate.
Till next time.
- Johnny