“Ok, so it’s a small person, what are you going to do?” I tell her. She is looking at it now in what I guess would be new light. The tiny new mechanisms of a cognition now her own, lurching and firing, I imagine the sound of ladyfingers popping, just that, no engine humming or roaring just a cacophony of false starts. It is clear to all that someone else has dressed her.
“Get away from him.” She is now standing between me and the small person. The small person is about the size of a mini candy bar, no really. I have heard of shit like this before, in the rainforest, it’s always in the rainforest right, well anyway, it probably walked here. That’s kind of like saying your 50 in dog years, or maybe that’s not what I mean to say, I guess I just mean it would take a hell of a lot longer for that little candy bar sized nude-kin to get here from Ecuador than it would me, or even Cindy Lou here for that matter. I would tease her but like so much else that is lost on a twelve year old, it’s just lost on a twelve year old.
“That’s right, now pick him up and hold him to your chest and coo and get your face right down in his. Yeah, show him the teeth when you smile, thats it. Listen, if that little fucker had a gun that could kill everything this big, he would kill everything this big, you have no idea. And if he was this big, as big as you and I, he would just walk away from you thinking you were a stupid little girl like all these assholes who have passed us in the last 15.” I know I am ranting but I can’t stop, I didn’t, thats important. She is begging to cry or has been and I have just noticed. It’s like a phobia, the crying, for me it is, and she is doing it. At least its genuine.
“That’s not true.” She asks me and looks at the small person being held, no pressed in some suborned refute of my accusation and I mean spleen rupturingly tight against her training bra trapped, rubbery, pre-pubescent boob-ola. That’s where they always put ‘em. I can’t see that small face from here. I assume there is a fluid on her shirt and a smell. If I was being viced into pre-tits like that I would have fluid coming out of my mouth too. Maybe his guts came out his mouth, I don’t know. I imagine my guts coming out of my mouth. She drops him, or swats him off of her, like when you are holding a bug you don’t think will bite you, letting it perch and what not, then it bites you or makes one of those hideouse terrifying hostile bug noise s, and maybe it did only it sounded like hello or i can’t breath, and too low to hear or even too high like adog whistle, and then maybe panick too, on her part, I know I would and then getting it away from me as fast as f-ing possible would be the only answer now, not playing with the afore mentioned and previously harmless well-seeming “bug”. It happens as I say it will, as I say it in my mind. I say wow out loud so that someone, someday… “Wow.”. Anyway, it moves a little on the pavement then doesn’t.
“It’s too big to step on.” I say. She nods looking at its little naked but. And by too big I mean it has eyes, arms it could raise to try to stop you, however ineffectually, a face that will show fear if you are close enough made more convincing/sympathetic by stain of guts on same face showing fear etc. In that way its too big, fuck, anyone can step on a candy bar.