A Survivor's Guide to Eternity(6)

“Okay. I’m not exactly feeling on top of the world. I can’t stand up and have to crawl. I’m not exactly lining myself up for the Olympics.”

“I noticed! I’ll go over there and see you in half an hour.”

“Half an hour; it’s not that far!”

“See you there in half an hour. You are a bit of a slow mover.”

The fox shot upright onto all fours, his fat upper thighs powering his powerful legs, so slender at the bottom. He bounded off down the slight incline, his big bushy brush tossing around behind him from side to side. He seemed to Ed to have the power of a stallion, galloping down to the water’s edge in a matter of seconds.

Ed meanwhile threw his tired arms and legs forward in the motion of a broken fan running out of battery power.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he struggled to drag himself in the footsteps of the proud dog. “If this is not as surreal as you can get, then I’m a Baffin.”

Breathless and some while later, he made the final languid motions to pull himself next to the fox, who was reclining beside the water with his head bent over his body snatching spasmodically at fleas with his sharp, white, shiny fangs. As his head moved sharply from side to side, he bit exploringly into his fur, dislodging the unwanted insects and launching them in Ed’s direction.

“Great, thanks for that,” said Ed, as an oversized flea smacked him on the head and bounced to his left side. Not fazed by the large insect, he glanced to where it landed and saw a procession of mouse-sized ants, each labouring with its own over sized item. Twigs, stones and bits of grass all passed by upon the never-ending parade of little soldiers going about their duties. Ed was mesmerised by their methodical organisation. It was as if each individual insect was being controlled by a central controller guiding them on their intricate un-conflicting path. They went around, over, under, across and through the others’ routes with pinpoint precision, never faltering or losing control of the unwieldy objects that looked far too big to manage.

It looked incredible seeing them like this with such clarity. He thought about how organised and powerful humanity would be if people worked together with such common goals, never faltering from the task at hand, working towards the service of the whole community. He looked up at the fox, glistening brown in the light. Beside them the water sparkled calmly, reflecting laser-like sparkles from the tiny ripples towards the centre.

“Let’s get on with it. You want me to see my reflection. Why should I care? It’s all so very odd. I’m just going along with anything right now, conversations with a fox, humongous everyday objects, whatever, bring it on! Anyway, how come you can speak in the first place; you’re a fox for heaven’s sake?”

“Just look at yourself in the reflection and then we can talk. Keep calm though and don’t be alarmed by what you see. It’s perfectly normal. I’d advise you to sit down, but in the circumstances it would be rather pointless.”

“What do you mean, pointless? What’s your problem? Why should I sit down?” snapped Ed as he moved closer to the water’s edge trying to reflect back on any incident which might have left marks on his face. His memory was sketchy, just tiny glimpses and flashes. He thought of his life and his modestly successful young business. He thought of his wife and home in London. He was a fairly contented man, not eaten away by over-ambition or under-achievement.

He continued down to the water, angled his head down, drank a satisfying gulp and half submerged his face to cool himself. He pulled his head from the stream, shook it like a soggy dog and looked upwards.

“I’m not looking. I don’t know why you want me to look, but I’m not doing it.”

The fox jumped up elegantly and bounded over to beside Ed.

“Okay, then look at my reflection; what do you see?”

“Erm, well, a fox obviously.”

The fox snarled approvingly, revealing his tremendously sharp teeth in the process.

“Mate, you have teeth the size of my fridge freezer; can you not understand that makes me feel a tad uncomfortable?” Ed stammered nervously.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. Take a look at your reflection, for goodness sake, what do you see?”

Ed bent his head to look at his reflected image, irritated by the ridiculous game.

“A tortoise! EHHHHMMM, a tortoise, a fucking tortoise! Christ, what sort of nasty joke is this? Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, bloody well wake up!”

The realisation was like an Exocet missile fired into his brain at top speed, in one ear and out the other. He felt it in his stomach as if a dance troupe was performing in his intestines. He stared at the reflection, stunned and disoriented.