Pancake Lizard - short story Pancake Lizard
Lola S. Cubish

The sun is shining. Wind blows through the oak trees, through the grass...
Then there's a rustling of the grass she knows isn't the wind; suddenly it's gone. She peaks up from her book, puts it aside hastily; she reckons it's papa who's spying on her to see if she's being lazy as usual...

Well, she's not about to lose her allowance again, so she picks up the lawnmover, continues cutting the grass, wipes the sweat of her forehead after a while; papa never wanted to buy a motorized one, no matter how hard she reasoned with him, said everybody else had an electric lawnmover, that the job was much more quickly done--

There's that sound again.

"Papa, I know you're there," she mutters, "I was just takin' a break, that's all,"

No response.

"So, it's the silent treatment, is it?"

She catches something in the corner of her eye, a different shade of green than from the trees...
That can't be papa. Maybe it's that friend of his, that man who comes to help on the farm now and then...

"Everett, is that you?"

Nothing.

"Everett? Everett?"

Well, it's obviously not Everett...

She sighs and continues to mow the lawn.

Probably nothing, just the cat...


"Where ya been?"

"Over at that other farm."

"That's four miles of walking."

He shrugs.

"Dinnertime," April appears in the doorway.

"Great, what're we havin'?"

She tugs Casey's hair, smiles wryly. "You think we have a menu or something?"

"Which means we're havin'...?"

"Leftovers, yeah. Not much of it either..."

Casey groans. "You have to head into town and buy some more stuff," she says.

He lightens up. "Speakin' of town, when are we plannin' on going back? It's gettin' kinda dull here..."

"Aww, you mean with no heads to bust?" she grins, ignores his glare, "I dunno, Casey, I kinda like it here...peace, and well, not that much quiet, but still--"

"I sure wouldn't mind staying here for a while,"

April looks at the turtle, then triumphantly back at Casey. "See?"

He just glares at the turtle, who grins innocently back. When April and Casey walks into the kitchen together, he can't help watching them, holding each other...


The cat licks its paw, strokes it over its head, lies down and stretches lazily in the sun. It hisses half-heartedly as a set of hands picks it up.
It doesn't mind the hands being green, as long as they provide gentle strokes and come with a lap to cuddle in.
But when it's owner shows up, it squirms out of the hands and trot of to another set of hands; smaller, softer, lightly pink in colour...

"Where ya been, Mowry?" she asks the cat, crouching down with it.

It purrs contentedly, reveals nothing. She wishes for the hundreth time that animals could speak. What tales they could tell...
She picks it up; time to head back...
Then there's the familiar rustling of the grass, it's been a couple a days since the last time. She knows that someone's been watching her the past few weeks, but she has yet to see who it is.

She stops, doesn't turn around. "Look, whoever you are, either you come out and talk to me, or I'll have someone find you,"
She hears a faint sigh. She turns slowly around, still holding the cat. "Because I don't like people stalking me,"

There's a dark figure sitting down in the shadows of the trees. He must've moved closer in a matter of seconds; he wasn't there just now.
She drops the cat in surprise, and it hurries over to the person under the trees, jumps into his arms. "Hey, fella," she can hear him say softly to the cat.

"So, that's where you've been, Mowry..." she whispers.

He comes out. Slowly at first, then he walks with normal pace towards her, stops a few feet away. She stares, thinks of something to say, but can't come up with anything more intelligable than "Are you gonna eat my cat?", so she says nothing at all.

"Hey, I think she's scared of me," he says to the cat, "tell her she doesn't have to be," Mowry doesn't even spare a glance in either of their directions, just licks his paw, tries to fall asleep.

"Well, he's not much of a help," he looks at her, smiles, "so I guess I have to talk to you myself,"

He approaches her, she takes a step back, he stops, continues towards her, pushes the cat into her arms before she can say anything.

She bites her lip, gaze stiff, not leaving his eyes for a second. "Guess what papa told me about little green men was true, huh?"
She freezes, can't believe she just said what she said--

His grin widens, he rubs the side of his face. "I'm just glad you didn't listen to what he had to say about talking to strangers..."

She feels her face go red, looks around for someone to come end this conversation. Papa isn't anywhere to be seen; he's in town today, she forgot. She curses herself for not agreeing to come with him.

He sits down amongst the grass, wild flowers, picks up a straw, puts it in his mouth, reckons this will make him seem less intimidating. He shuts his eyes, feels the sun warm his face, catches the sweet smells of the plants, the trees, the sun, the brook, of her...

She just stands there, stiff as a pole. Why is he doing this? Is he waiting for her to sit down, or is he just ignoring her? He takes a deep breath, startling her.

"I just love this country air, don't you?" he asks, eyes still closed, "New York doesn't have any of this..."

So, he's from the big city? He hasn't crawled out from under a slimy rock somewhere near here? She wants to live there, she knows it, she wants to hear more about it...

She sits down carefully beside him, cradles the cat in her lap.


They play this little game; she puts out notes for him. "There's a pie cooling on the window sill. Let's see you get it!"

He smells the tiny piece of white paper, the scent of her is strong, she must just have written it. He folds it together, puts it in his belt. He's been saving them all, even though he won't tell her about it. He won't tell her he has to walk four miles every day to get here either. He's been careful about getting romantic.
He would do anything for her, and he doesn't deny it to himself. This running over the yard, exposing himself like that, doing whatever little pranks and jokes she cooks up for him; just to see her smile. This is what he's been living for the last weeks...another note.

He creeps up towards the house, sees the pie-- and a man in the kitchen. He grins to himself. She's made it harder for him this time.

She waits for him in the barn, where she has perfect view over the house. Little thrills go down her spine everytime he does something for her.
Will he be caught or not? This uncertainty is killing her, leaving her at the edge of her seat. How wonderful.
She's been alone here with her mom and dad ever since her older brother moved out, and it's been so boring that she knows how many cracks there are in her bedroom ceiling; she's counted them many times.
Then he comes along, this unknown creature, this exciting and funny creature. He makes her laugh like no one else.

She gasps; papa is reaching for the pie at the same time he is! Now he's gonna get caught for sure!
He pulls at the pie, papa yells in surprise and pulls it back, but he's suddenly snatched the pie, and in the blink of an eye he's gone. She shakes her head and squints. Where did he go? At times he just seems to disappear...
Then she spots him just around the corner from the window, sitting in the darkness that the house provides with its shadow, clutching the pie to his chest; she can see him breathing heavily, but soundlessly.

She pops her head back into the barn. He's safe now; he'll be here in a matter of seconds.

When he returns, her face is all smiles. He hands her the pie. "God, this is the best one yet! You were great!" she exclaims, laughs out loud. He sits down. Her smile must be the most beautiful sight for sore eyes in the world. At least as far as he's concerned.

"Wanna share the prize?" she asks, positions herself next to him on the rickety old ladder. He nods, watches her break off a piece of it, putting it into her mouth, a little drop of berry juice landing on her chin. He reaches out, dries it off, she glances quickly at him, scared at how much she wants him to touch her again.
She breaks off another piece, a tiny, tiny one, brings it to his mouth, he eats it; it's such a little piece that his mouth brushes her fingers. He takes her hand in his hand and licks the crumbs and bits of berry off her fingers, one after one, slowly. She swallows. Now they're getting close, she knows; this isn't just to get the food off of her fingers. This is getting serious.
She gets the urge to run, to laugh-- just to make a loud noise or gesture to break the silence, the tension, the heat...

"Uhh, I have to go now, papa's getting worried..." she mumbles. He takes the egde of her dress and wipes her fingers carefully. "See ya later..."

"Bye, see you later..."

She leaves.


He's seen him. Lurking about his premises, his land-- an intruder, a being he's never seen before. He does look kind of like those pond turtles Everett's got over at his farm, but no turtle Everett's ever owned has been that big. Better catch him soon, before he hurts someone, someone like his daughter...

He knows it's the turtle who's been stealing his pies, playing tricks on him, borrowing his tools, heck, doing what ever he God damn pleases around his farm...where the hell did he come from, anyway?

"I almost caught that bastard red-handed yesterday..." he grumbles to himself.

One funny thing, though, Mowry doesn't seem to be afraid of him; he's seen him cuddle him a bunch of times. And what's weirder is that the cat mostly comes to the turtle, not vice versa...
That cat doesn't take well to strangers, either...

He decides to call Everett and ask him if any of his turtles have gone missing.


"Her name's Charlotte,"

"What have you two been doing over there?"

It's evening; they are sitting on the porch swing, looking at the stars, talking together for the first time in a month. Things haven't been going to well here lately, and he didn't come back until this evening. Leo had been argueing with him again; this time it was a big one.
But tonight he suddenly came in on Mike as he was sitting outside. By the looks of things, he's not staying, Mike reckons.

"Nothing much," Mike plays with a stick, flicks away a dead bug with it, "just kidding around, having some laughs..."
She hasn't left out a note for him since the last one with the pie, he has painfully noticed.

"Nothing more?"

"Oh, come on, Raph! Whaddaya think? That she'd go with a turtle?"

He shrugs, smirks a little, "I dunno... I was just thinking since you two have been spending so much time together alone and everything..."

Mike gets up, wanders off.

"Guess not," Raph mutters and disappears into the woods. He's not ready to come back yet.


He finds himself standing in front of her house, and he wants to turn and leave. He doesn't.
He decides to sneak into the barn instead, maybe he can spend the night there, think things over, and if he hasn't come to his senses in the morning, then he can sneak over and talk to her.

Entering the barn silently, he can hear something up there on the lam, someone. Is that someone awake?
His curiousity gets the better of him, and he tries to make as little sound as possible when he climbs up the ladder. He can hear them breathing.
He peaks over the top of the ladder, catches a glimpse of some light brown hair; knows it's her.

"Charlotte?"

"I'm awake," she says simply.

He crawls onto the lam and lowers his body next to hers, but he's still keeping a little distance. Doesn't want to scare her again...
The moonlight comes in through the window, it must be about 02:00 pm now...
When he walked over here, he took it slowly, he was thinking about a lot of things. How it would be to go back, if he would miss her, if he really wanted to go back, if Raph was coming, if Leo and Raph would manage to settle down again after this last fight; he wasn't sure of any of those matters.
He also silently wondered if April and Casey would stick together...

"Why...why aren't you putting out any notes no more?" But he knows why, or at least he thinks so.

She doesn't answer.

"I thought we were having fun?" he says, needing to fill the awful silence.

"We were," she nods, "I like having you around, Mike,"

"But...?" He makes a gesture for her to go on.

"But what?"

He blinks, confused. "I think I've misunderstood a few things..."

"Like what?"

"You were-- when you ran away when I tried to..." he makes the same gesture.

She turns away. "You scare me,"

"Oh," he says flatly, knowing she's just confirmed what he knew all along...

"But I still like you,"

He looks at her, puzzled, askance in his eyes. She moves closer, reaches for him, they lie back in the hay...
She covers her mouth with his, kisses him tenderly, starts tearing off her clothes, he helps her and soon she whimpers with his touch. Two bodies locked together under the moon; he holds her, caresses her, she can feel him respond to her touch as much as she does to his...
Nothing stops her now, and when he comes inside of her, the fear of her parents hearing them is the only thing that barely holds back her scream.
Oh God, sweet, forbidden love...


He sees him sneaking away from his barn, at 05:00 in the morning.
What the h--? He's here again? He had thought he'd seen the last of him; he hadn't been here for a good while now. He jumps out of bed, doesn't even bother to put on his boots, just grabs the shotgun, and barrels out of the house.

Everett didn't have any missing turtles, no sir, he just laughed at him when he carefully hinted about unusually big turtles roaming about his farm.
He looked in an old book he had, and saw it wasn't a pond turtle at all, it was a box turtle, so anyway, it couldn't have been one of Everett's...

He tip-toes over the yard, thinks he's lost him, but around the corner of the barn, he sees him. He's petting Charlotte's cat again, the rude little--
He wonders how to sneak up on him without him noticing.

"Yes, you're a lucky little kitty cat to have such a beautiful and kind owner," the turtle strokes the cat's head, "we like her, don't we?"

What? Charlotte? He's been in contact with Charlotte? He loses his mind, steps forward, and crushes a twig on his way, making a small, but clear enough noise.

The turtle looks up, sees him...


She picks up her basket and walks out of the door, knowing that her daughter will be coming after her shortly.
The sun is shining brighter than ever, and she's gonna go and pick some berries and mushrooms. A thought springs to mind; maybe she should try the swamp?
Humidity is perfect for mushrooms...

She walks over the meadow, notices the familiar smells of the flowers-- stops to pick up a straw, sucks on it on her way to the swamp.
The brook is clear and cold, and she changes its little gurgling melody with an oktav as she dips her toes down into it.
She sighs and takes a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill her lunges entirely. After she's dried off her feet in the sun, she suddenly gets the urge to run, and she does.

The swamp is in the shade, and therefore a little colder, but she doesn't mind, because she spots some mushrooms right away.
What is bothering her though, is the strange smell that's lurking about this place. She shrugs, bends down and start to fill her basket with mushrooms.

She sees a bigger one, grabs for it, but it's stuck. That's weird. She pulls again. Suddenly she realizes what she's touching, and panic fills her.
She scratches her fingernails frighteningly at the earth, digs faster and faster, doesn't even stop to see what it is, just keeps on digging it up, until she sees the face.

There's a soft thud as she breaks down on the ground. Her hand goes up to her mouth, and she stares in shock.

"Mommy?"

She hardly notices her daughter's voice, but when she comes to it, she hastily picks her up; doesn't want her to see this.

"Lucy, run and tell your uncle Don--" she sobs, "I want you to tell him...tell him that we've found your daddy."


The End (as if you didn't know...)

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This fanfic is named after the song "Pancake Lizard" by Aphex Twin.