A Teen Thing
By Jon Sleeper
Getting into the car is an easier task than it was a few years ago. Since they started designing cars with seats that had tails in mind.
But the hole in the passenger seat was almost too small, so it was very uncomfortable to sit in. I did anyway, though. At least the space between the seats was large enough that I did have to bend the thing all that much… My tail (wow) was still hurting from hitting it against the walls and knocking over potted plants. My brain might know it’s there, but my *mind* surely does not. So much for "Maximum Tail Comfort Seating."
Of course when we get about five miles down the road I have to go to the bathroom. So we stop at a hydrogen fuel station.
All I'll say about going is: Yuck. Like birds and reptiles, it seems that dinos have only one opening for all functions, and on me it's just behind that dip between my legs. I had to sort of place my neither end over the toilet (which was a bird-morph model anyway) and let go. All I'll say about *that* is I guess I'm more birdlike than I thought…
When we get to the doctor he exclaims over not being able to predict things as well as he should, then takes another body scan. Then he confirms what I felt last night. "You've got a gizzard," he says matter- of-factly. I'm just sitting at a table, naked (and not really minding it, I had to *insist* to mom that it was redundant. She doesn't wear many clothes herself, anyway) resting my head in my left hand and idly drumming my finger claws against the formica counter.
"Duh, doc," I say. "That's what I said just a few minutes ago. Is there anything *else* you want to tell me?" with sarcasm. I scratched at my chest with my knuckles, it's gaining the grayish skin I'd seen in norm-shape. It's smoother than the scales on my back and tail. And practically up to my neck.
He rubs his forehead in exasperation. We’d gotten him out of bed. "You seem to be following that tail exercise program they teach you in school. It's a good method and I really can't give you any improvements. You're going to be pretty much a meat eater, I can tell. Not as much as your mother, but maybe sixty percent or so of your diet will have to be meat or an acceptable substitute. If your head had Changed I'd give you some gizzard stones, I'll give them to you anyway, though. With your speed you’ll be done by tomorrow morning anyway." He sighs deeply. "Don’t get me wrong, Tom. This has really been exciting for me. Someone like you only comes along once in a lifetime, after all. I really kind want to thank you."
Thank *me*? Just as I'm about to say something, my vision starts to distort and blur. I shut my eyes before the swimming room makes me want to retch. I cover my tightly shut eyes with my hands. "Tom! What’s wrong?" Yells my mother.
I feel too bad to answer. My whole head starts to feel like it’s vibrating, and I'm so dizzy I feel like I would fall off the couch, if the doctor was not holding me up. The numbness jumps from my neck, where it'd stopped, onto my face and the rest of my head. The *only* way I can feel my head is with my hands, my hair is rapidly disappearing. The numbness lasts for agonizing seconds, only to be replaced by a painful pricking sensation that is MUCH worse. With one hand I can feel my jawline extend, with the other the edges of my mouth being drawn back.
There is a sound of cracking bone and cartilage, I can tell my ears are retracting, never to be seen again. My tongue is numb, too. Then even IT starts to buzz with pins-and-needles. I try to yell, but nothing comes out but a pathetic wheeze. My senses distort and change. Scents become more intense and distinct. The place smells like disinfectant. My twisting and shifting nostrils contract to try to block them out. Then I realize I'm starting to feel things on my face again.
The dizziness and pricking starts to subside. With my tongue, I feel numerous, almost uniformly shaped, bladelike, sharp teeth inside my mouth. I can feel a small fork in the tip of my tongue. My jaw is a bit stiff, so I open and close my mouth. The sensation of just opening my mouth feels different. Duh. Saurian and mammalian jaws were quite different. I must be closer to dinosaur than human, then.
I feel the shape of my head with my hands, I've got a long muzzle, almost as long as the natural velociraptor's, I can tell. My cranium is a might larger, though. I have a relatively small forehead, and my muzzle seems a bit more steeply sloped than the normal raptor's. I continue to work out the stiffness in my jaw, incidentally noticing the corners of my mouth are *behind my eyes*, with my jaw muscle evident when I carefully feel further.
Then I realize I seem to be *panting*. The cool air actually feels quite good on my tongue, so I don't bother stopping myself. Then I take a deep breath.
The antiseptic smell is very intense. But I find if I concentrate I can filter it out. Then I smell a familiar scent. My mother's. She smells… excited? ::Is *that* what that is?:: I think. Excitement. Emotion? I'm *smelling* an emotion? I take a deeper breath, and smell it again. A whole world suddenly opens up to me. Then I start to laugh, a sound that comes from deeper in my throat than used to. "Incredible!" I say aloud.
"What, Tom?" my mom says. Concern in her voice… *and* in her scent. I take another breath.
The emotion-scent is in her breath, and in her fur. ::I'm going to have to read up on this…:: I think. "Just savoring your scent, mom. You know what I mean." Then I remember my mother's reaction to her new nose years ago. She sighs, remembering.
"I think I understand." She says. I swore I could smell her smile! Then I realize that I've not even opened my eyes yet, or taken my hands off of my head either. I slowly let go, perhaps with a bit of reluctance. But suddenly seeing myself in a mirror has become very important.
I blink a few times to clear the gunk from my Change from my eyes. The doctor brings over a full-length mirror, covered with a dark sheet. "You ready?" he says with a grin. I nod vigorously.
I've always been told that the first sight of yourself completely Changed in the mirror is a very profound one. I really had no idea what they meant by that. I do now.
I stand there I don’t know how long just staring. I'd not looked in a mirror since I'd started Changing, fearing what I’d see.
I look positively viscous! I have a glare that could strip the paint off a car!!
I am definitely a Hiddie. A bit more Changed than that David Smith guy I'd seen in the vid. My forehead is very low, almost nonexistent in fact. My head is so close to the norm-shape raptor that it would take a very close look to really see a difference. My neck is connected more or less to the back of my skull, and it’s very flexible. I can turn my head almost all the way around, and tilt it left and right by surprising amounts. It's long enough for me to easily lower my head to the ground and look beneath myself without moving my body much.
The muzzle is constantly in my vision. My field of view is wider and my vision seems sharper. Depth perception is less. Reds are more intense than they used to be. In the mirror, my eyes are the most amazing green, with slit pupils and very cat-like.
I love 'em.
I take another deep breath. The combination of sight and smell gives me a whole picture of the room that I'd never guessed. My hearing too, seems better. Though I'd imagine I'd get a better indication of how it'd Changed outside.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. My body was no longer numb or aching or stretching or *anything*. My Change was complete. I was finished. I felt consistent and looked so.
Just for fun, I started to pose a little. Opening my mouth displaying my teeth, my hands held out in front of me like I’m going to slash something (or is that someone?) with them. I flex my feet a little, bringing them into the pose. I run in place, pumping my powerfully muscled legs faster than I was ever able to. Everything works, I feel stronger than I used to be. Not all that surprising. I wondered if I'd still be able to run for long distances. The tip of my tail swished around in astonishment.
Then I stop, and sigh again. Looking at myself up and down in the mirror. "I guess this is me now," I say. Then I realize what I'm feeling. Emotionally that is.
It'd taken me a while to figure it out, and frankly, I guess I was *never* happy being human, I’d always felt so vulnerable and hardly ever tried to defend myself, I’d not even *attempted* to keep from being beaten up, I just took it as normal and never told anyone about it. I'd gotten quite adept at hiding all the signs. *This* was MUCH better. Most of all, I was realizing, this thing out of the mists of time from life on Earth was *ME*. Bullies would never bother me again. And if they did…
Along with the feeling of completeness of body, was a completeness and clarity of mind that I’d never before felt. As if a fog had cleared like magic. I *know* I’m a different person, now. I can remember my old self with perfect clarity, but his actions are sometimes a mystery, sometimes not. On top of that, I don't even know who the person I've become is. I briefly ponder a change of name, but dismiss it after a moment’s thought. I am still the summation of my experience, I simply refuse to let the past rule my life anymore.
::It’s time to start anew,:: I think.
I tailgrin, and look at the doctor. "Well, doc. If you have any tests to run on me I suggest you do them now. I want to go home and give my friend a call…" I might want to start anew, but that did not include new friends. Zenk means a lot to me. Though I was just a *tad* nervous about seeing him since I’d become one of the best predators this planet had ever seen…
He runs all the standard stuff. I won't go into it. But I was exhausted when he was done. With the help of another bird-morph doctor, I swallowed the gizzard stones. I had to kind of roll them around on my tongue until they kind of fell down my throat. I could *feel* them in there, rolling around, making little clacking noises. Then my doctor gives me a plate of rarely cooked meat (beef? It smells like it…). "Is this beef?" I ask the doctor.
He shrugs. "Yes. It's a good way to help you learn how to eat, you basically have to swallow things in little chunks, your gizzard does all the work. Is there a problem?"
I cross my arms across my chest, then glare at him putting all the seriousness I could into my expression. Apparently I succeeded. "Doc, my friend is turning into a bull. Out of respect for him I won't eat beef, and won’t until he tells me he does not mind. Is there anything *else* you can feed me? I *am* just a bit hungry."
He takes away the beef, giving me a bit of what smells like lamb(?) instead. Frankly, it'd taken a LOT of self control to keep from just downing the beef in large gulps. The inside of my mouth had a strange hot taste in it, and was practically watering at the scent of the meat. Mom looks at the plate hungrily. For a moment I feel just a little bit *possessive* over my meal, and I almost turn to *hide* the food from her. Then realize what I'm thinking. Mostly from remembering the lectures in the Carnivore Class about feeding behaviors.
"Help yourself," I say between mouthfuls. With a thankful tailgrin, she takes a large slice off the plate and chews on it gratefully. When we got home of course she'd go sleep it off. Mom *always* takes a long nap after meals (and she always manages to look *soooo* comfortable while sleeping). It's a wonder she gets any work done at all. Lucky thing she’s a telecommuter…
I wolf down the meat like I'd not eaten in days… months! I did not seem to be able to taste very much, though. My tests had shown that the amount of tastebuds on my tongue had been reduced by about half. My more sensitive nose more than made up for it, though. Not chewing was rather strange. What I ended up doing was use my bladelike teeth to rip off chunks if the bit on the fork was too big. They seemed *designed* for doing that. I also tended to use my fingerclaws like a knife. Very practical, those claws.
After my gizzard is full, the doctor says that he wants to have some vision tests run on me. I'm not really keen on more tests, so I fix him with my Glare again. But he's adamant, so I reluctantly submitted. I figure I might a well get it over with. Besides, I'd kinda like to know what my abilities are before I go back to school in the morning… then there's the trip to the mall I want to take. I had an eye on some of those new reptilian styles out. Just because I think clothes are redundant did not mean I won't wear them. Oregon is too cold and rainy most of the year NOT to anyway.
All through the drive I have the vanity mirror down and am just staring at myself. Out of curiosity I try a growl just to see if I can do it. I succeed very well, almost scaring *myself*. Well enough that mom pulls over. "Are you okay?"
I roll my eyes (that seems to of been an expression that transferred nicely). "Mom, how often have I heard you roar just to hear yourself do it?" Her face under her fur goes just a bit red to my enhanced vision. She's blushing. "My point exactly." She continues to drive. For a moment that makes me wonder about myself. I decide that is one of the personality Changes that have occurred. I was never very good at expressing myself before, now words seem to come much easier. ::Cool,:: I think.
"South City Optometry." The sign on the window says. The place looks rather small. Only a nurse/receptionist is sitting in front. She's a rodent of some kind, I can't tell exactly what. There are so many kinds of morph it's impossible to know them all. She hardly reacted to me at all. A sign that she's probably seen a few other dinomorphs. "He'll be with you in a moment," she says. "An old friend of his is visiting and they're talking. They've not seen each other in a few years so it might be a while."
It didn't take all that long. The door opened, and a very cool looking Hiddie bald eagle morph came out the door, followed by another Hiddie, this time a whitetail deer-morph. They both smelled very strange to me… I don’t really know how to put it… I almost felt like I *knew* the deer-morph for some reason. Strange feeling, so I put it out of my mind. "I'm sorry I’ve got to go, Brian," The deer said in a smooth baritone voice. "But I'm afraid I've got to get back to my research. Two weeks in Oregon have been very restful, though. Thanks much for helping me proof it."
"No problem, Jon. It was a little dry reading, but it *is* going to be a history textbook after all. I'm just glad I was able to help." The eagle was the kind who had six limbs, the extra two being the large wings on his back. "I'll see you in San Diego in six months?"
"Sure thing. I don't know how much I'll be able to keep in contact, though. The Vidnet where I'm going is not so good. Email will have to do…" They shook hands. "Take care," he says. He looks at me for a moment, his eyes went wide and his ears back, nostrils pulsing while he smelled the air. He looked me over, then shook his head, I heard him say under his breath, "nah, I only *think* I know him, like that David Smith guy I've read about. Weird. Oh, well." Then he went out the door, got into an old Toyota RAV-4 that was still in perfect condition (briefly ducking to avoid damaging his growing antlers, the car was old enough to have look like it’d been one of the original post- Change modifications) and drove off.
"Sorry about that," said the eagle. "I'm Dr. Coe. Glad to meet you Mrs. Boxhall, Tom." I shook his hand, noticing it was very similar to my own.
I looked at him for a moment. Glaring. "Doc, I *really* want to get through this as fast as I can, there's a lot of stuff I want to do."
Then he fixes me with *his* glare. Then again, it looks like he *always* looks that way. Probably because of his species. "Don't bother looking at me like that, Tom. It does not work." He sighs. "Well, I guess we don't have to do everything at once. I'll just do a basic exam first then perhaps we can do some of the more exotic tests later in the week. I want to be sure that your eyes Changed smoothly. Won't you come into the examination room?" I shrug, then walk into the room.
I have to stand a moment while Dr. Coe changes seat types. He takes out an adjustable reptile-type stool that has a tail support. "Let's get started, shall we?"
Most of the instruments used before the Change for eye exams had not changed much. Oh, there were a *few* things that were different, the thing the optometrist uses to get your exact prescription my switching between various lenses, then asks you "does this seem better?" had to be redesigned to accommodate different head types. Eye charts had to be redone, and while I was under that lens-thingy he discovered a small problem. "You are slightly nearsighted in your left eye, compared to the normal acuity of your new species, that is. Overall your vision is *much* better. According to your last exam you were already nearsighted like that before you Changed, so you *did* Change smoothly. But I'm going to prescribe a kind of eyedrop. It's a kind of clear gel that has certain refractive properties and can correct very minor problems like yours. I need to do a glaucoma test first, though."
Unfortunately that meant he had to put an anesthetic in my eyes. He brought his wickedly hooked beak uncomfortably close to my head. I had to tilt my head to the side. The eyedropper was very close, he was wearing talon protectors so he did not stick anything, but I started to blink a lot. I finally managed to hold my eye open, but as soon as I saw the drop fall my vision suddenly went very cloudy. It sort of swept up from below, almost like… "Huh," says Dr. Coe. "You've got a nictitating membrane. I guess I should of expected it…"
"Excuse me?" I say.
"Look at me for a moment." He pointed at his own eyes, and a dull white lid swept up from the lower part of his left eye. "It basically cleans the eye of dirt and dust, I use it a lot when I fly. It also protects the eye from other things that might damage it. Must of been an instinctive reaction on your part… oh, well. I guess we'll save that one for later. Let me just give you the gel eyedropper and you can be on your way."
We made an appointment for the weekend to do everything else (I was not really looking forward to it), then we stopped briefly at the mall.
The stares that I got were often a mixture of awe and envy, sprinkled with fear from the more skittish among those who'd become prey animals. It's Oregon, so of course it's raining. Mom is wearing a loose full-body rainsuit that seals fully, yet still has air circulation. She’s covered from her head to the tip of her tail in it, no fur is really exposed. Wet fur is not the best smell in the world.
Unfortunately, since I had nothing that would fit, this meant that I was soaked to the bone by the time we reached the door. The mall had several large full- body dryers near the entrance for the furry customers (who were the great majority), one was free so I spent a short time in there. I was quickly finding out that I was very happy that I did not have fur. It takes only a small fraction of the time to dry, if nothing else.
We managed to pick up some "Reptile" jeans, they trend towards being thicker than the mammal types, because from Middie above most reptomorphs are cold blooded. My doctor said *I'm* warm blooded, though. More like a bird than a reptile. We must of spent close to five hundred dollars on a new wardrobe.
I took off those annoying claw shields for a short time while trying stuff on, and incidentally discovered that they made a very satisfying *click* sound when I walked. I came out of the fitting room in the clothes I was to wear home (a pair of jeans shorts with a short tail sleeve, with a zipper on the top of the sleeve so I did not have to slip it over the far end of the thing), and a button shirt, but without the claw shields on. Mom yelled at me for a moment. That took me aback. How could I explain it to her? They felt *unnatural* for me to wear! Besides, I'd become coordinated enough that I wasn't cutting holes in things anymore. Sheesh!
We got home just before school was supposed to end. I knew Zenk would probably stop by, and I wanted to give him a surprise.
My hearing was a little better, not so much because what passes for an ear on me is just a hole ("auditory meatus" is the term, I'd read), I still heard him coming up the walk, though. I could not smell him because the windows were closed, besides, I was too busy getting ready in the entry for my little surprise.
"Are you *sure* you want to do this?" my dad says.
"Yeah, dad. He seemed interested in my norm-shape. I just thought that since I'm done I'd show him what it really looks like. I know Zenk, he'll be thrilled, not surprised. I doubt there's any instincts he could get that could faze him either."
"Okay…" My dad says with great reluctance.
I Shift, strike a fearsome pose that I'd practiced for the past half hour or so. Then there's a knock on the door and my dad opens it for me…
******************
There's saying out there about the "best laid plans going to waste." Or something like that. When the door opened something happened that I *never* expected.
The door opened on a large, white, horned, Large, snorting, stamping, HUGE, bull.
Funny, I always thought of velociraptors as fearless.
On second thought, maybe when I felt was not exactly fear. More like: "This thing is much bigger than you. MUCH BIGGER. You can't do this yourself! So maybe it'd be a good idea to LEAVE." So I did. I don't even remember slamming the door to my room, where I felt most safe.
A few minutes later I started to feel safe again, so I Shifted back to morph. There was a knock on my door. Opening it, Zenk stood there looking apologetic. He scratches his head around his horns, embarrassed. "Um, sorry I scared ya. I kinda found out during PE I could Shift and kinda wanted to strike a pose to show you when you opened up the door. Sorry about that. Um, your dad said you're done Changing?" He was looking at me kind of funny, somewhat in disbelief, it seemed.
"Seems so, this is me now," I say to him. I make a show of flexing my feet and my biceps, tailgrining at the same time.
"Are you angry at me or something?" Zenk says.
"No, why do you ask?"
"Well, I guess that maybe you just look so… um."
"Sinister? Menacing? Evil? No big deal." Then I inform him about what my tail does.
"Oh yeah! Like your mom! Cool. Um, I saw Mr. Wilkes today and he gave me this note to give you, and Mrs. Aura gave me *this* note to see your counselors. I can't stay much longer, my parents want to go out and get me some Shifter clothing. That's why it took me so long to knock on your door. I'd had to put my loners back on."
I suddenly start to laugh a growling laugh. "You know I was going to do the *same thing*? Strike a pose and show off when dad opened the door, I mean. When I saw you all I saw was something bigger than me that could kill me… out of curiosity, do you know how much you weigh in norm-shape?"
"Almost a ton."
"That explains it, then. I weigh about one-fifty. A good predator knows when he's beat, and you could of beaten me! Ha!" Then we both started laughing. Zenk had to go, he'd said he wanted to go to the mall and hang out this weekend, so I agreed to meet him in the arcade then, but I *would* see him in the morning tomorrow to walk to school, too. Even though tomorrow I was not supposed to have a class until midday, the note from my counselor said she wanted to see me bright and early. Nice thing it was going to be Friday…
For dinner we had ground turkeyburgers, (mom and I like ours rare, very rare) and a bit of pasta. Until bedtime I read as much about raptors as I could, even paid attention to that Meso Club video this time (the video's method on how to drink was helpful, kept me from spilling my soda out the sides of my mouth). The Club looked very interesting, and for some reason socializing with other dinomorphs was intriguing.
I took my evening shower. A very normal thing. But it was something else I had not done since I'd finished. I slammed the shower door on my tail both getting in and out. Then, how was I supposed to wash the thing? No *way* I could bend it around without falling over. There was also much more of me to wash than before. When I got out and contemplated brushing my teeth, I groaned. It took me a full half hour.
The only real problem I had that night was finding a comfortable position. Mom had gotten more sheets like those on her bed for me, and I’d tested them with my monster claws. They didn’t even show a *crease*, and were very soft. So at least I would not be ripping up my bed.
I finally managed to fall asleep on my side, my head curled backwards somewhat next to my chest. Once I found that position, I feel asleep gratefully, wondering about school the next day…
* * *
Ever have one of those mornings? No, not one of *those* mornings. The ones where you just *so* comfortable in bed and you just *don't* want to even move lest you destroy a full night's sleep?
If not for mom I doubt I would of gotten out of bed all day. I still felt like I'd been run over by several dozen busses, the past two days had not been exactly *restful* by any means. I'd had a full year crammed into a bare day of Change. In a bit of normalcy, mom roared "GET OUT OF BED" in a familiar tone. My only reluctance was that I was in an oddly comfortable position. I was on my side, my head was against my chest, my neck curled at an odd angle, the end of my tail (which had proved a bit more flexible than I thought) was curled and the end of it was resting atop my head.
For a moment when I opened my eyes I *forgot* that that… thing was a part of me. Then there was the sight of my hands, my feet… I almost panicked. Then I remembered the past couple of days. Then rubbed the end of my snout and chuckled in self-embarrassment.
Mom had washed my new clothes to get out some of the smell of the dye. I put on a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt. We'd not been able to find any shoes for my feet (I did not want any anyway).
Zenk knocked on the door right on time. "Are you ready?" He says. I down a bit of the chicken-flavored meat substitute (stuff tastes terrible! No wonder mom hates it), grab my backpack, and with Zenk smiling we head off to school.
I have to admit that I was feeling *very* nervous, as we got closer and closer to campus, the only thing that met us was utter and complete silence. I've never heard—or not heard—anything like it. For once we were coming onto campus in complete silence!
There is one group of girls that no matter how early or late that we leave we always seem to intercept walking to school. A funny thing. Most of them are seniors, so are Changed. But I always cringe when I see them. Not this morning, though. Let them make fun of me now! We saw them coming up a cross street, most of them were hoofed mammals (an antelope, a thompson's gazelle, and a gnu), with the last one of their group an English sheepdog. I'd known them since I was in second grade and they were in fourth. I've always hated them.
This morning though, strangely enough, I felt no real animosity towards them, only pity. I smelled them *way* before I saw them, of course, and they smelled me. They stopped, nervously sniffing the air. The sheepdog continued to walk, though. She had an odd expression on her canine face, her scent unbelieving, her long, thick fur hanging down into her eyes (she was the one among them who actually *liked* her species), she walked up to me and said, "You *can't* be Tom! Can you?"
Even though *I* really felt no hatred for her (isn't that the point of starting over?) I still felt that she perhaps had bugged me once too often. "Maybe yes, maybe no." I said noncommittally. "*You* decide. Choose *wisely*." The last bit I put a growl into it.
"Well, I, uh…" She began nervously. "Um, I guess you are. Tom, I mean." She looked at me up and down, pausing on my m-claws. Then turned around and walked away muttering to herself. "I can't *believe* it! At least he did not gut me like he did Ricky…" She went back to her little herd, and herded them off to school.
The whole time Zenk has had to clamp a hand on his muzzle to keep from bursting out in laughter. "Man! You've been wanting to do that for *years* haven't you?"
"Hell yeah! Felt pretty good, too. I doubt we'll ever intercept them again. Hah!" We walked onward, occasionally laughing aloud. Today looked like it was going to be a good day. ::Payback time,:: I think.
I'm not a saint. So a little revenge *was* in order. Nothing harmful. Nothing grotesque. Nothing permanent. I just felt like messing with their minds a little (those that *had* minds, that is). I knew for most of them I'd not have to do more than Glare at them. When I thought about it, they were all cowards anyway.
When we got on campus there was a mix of excited whispering, staring, gaping, looks of awe and admiration, fear, and just a bit of resentful looks on the other teens as we went to the cafeteria to get our breakfast supplement. I took out a diet sheet my doctor had given me, checking to see if doughnuts were still on the list. Yes! "Gimme one glazed please." I say to Mike, the mule-morph at the register.
"Sure thing, Tom. Glad to see you back. Haaaw! I wouldn't want to be Ricky Oxnard today!" He rung up my food.
"Why's that?" I say.
"Well, you know…"
"I *do* know. It's not your problem, so DON'T go spreading rumors on me, *right?*" I Glared at him.
"Um… ahhh… Sure Tom. Never even crossed my mind."
Oh, but it had. Mike was the worst gossip on campus. Last year in my Sociology class I did a project on gossip, and traced the source of about half the rumors on campus to him. (He was like that before he Changed, I'd found out; it had nothing to do with him being a mule.) One of the few projects I got an "A" on that year… "Good. Thanks."
I had a few problems eating the thing. I finally managed to just tear little bits off and swallow them after softening them up with a bit of chocolate milk. "So much for my morning doughnut." I mused aloud, looking sadly at the last little bit between my clawed fingers. I leaned against a light post, behind was a grassy "pasture" area. Zenk usually responds in some way when I muse aloud, but the only thing I got was a real, full blown "moo" right behind me! I looked back at him in total shock!
"Gotcha, didn't I?" he says slyly. The bell rings right then, so Zenk has to go to class. His first class is the Predator/Prey Relations (PPR) class, for some reason he sighs a sigh of defeat such as I've never heard from him. He smells… sad? Distressed? I don't know. Still learning how to use this nose. "See you at lunch?" he says dejectedly.
"Sure thing, I've got to go see my counselor anyway." As he walks off I wonder, he seemed to of reacted to that class like I did for the Carni Class. I'm left wondering about that as I walk throughout the crowd (which parts ahead of me like the Red Sea before Moses, for *once*) to the counseling office.
"I'm rearranging your classes," says my counselor. "I don't think it's a good idea to keep you where you might do something you might regret."
"What's *that* supposed to mean?" I said.
"Well, considering what you've Changed into, I was thinking of the safety of your classmates. *You* know the ones I mean. Don't be offended, it's not that I think you'll start skinning your classmates, but I just don't want some of them tripping over desks just trying to get out of the room!" She smiles.
I do not.
"Tom, believe me. I've met people like you before, and your *type* are usually *quite* emotional. And there's something else."
"What?" I said coldly.
"School policy requires that you wear claw shields at all times. Bird-of-prey morphs have to do the same, so we're not doing it just to you. I'm sorry."
No, she wasn't. I could smell it (the self-righteous *quack*). Not much I could do about it, though. Looking over my new schedule, it looked like this:
Period Course Teacher 1 Predator/Prey Relations Marker 2 Instinct Integration Boldway 3 Pack Dynamics Calvert 4 Carnivore Behavior Greenblat 5 PE Swansen 6 (Free) ---
For a moment I was disappointed. I was no longer in Herbivore Behavior with Mrs. Aura. I guess I should of expected it… it was saddening nonetheless. Then I remembered something. My first period was the same class and teacher as Zenk! So I still had *one* class with him! YES!
So with a spring in my step (damn those safety sheaths!) I walked on to my new first class.
Then when I was about ten feet from the door, still out of sight, I heard why Zenk hated the class so much. What I heard coming from there I will not repeat, it was many times worse than anything than *ever* I got in *any* class I *ever* had.
Barely keeping my anger in check, I casually walked in the door and sat down in the empty seat next to Zenk. He'd been near to tears before I walked in. A funny thing, he'd *never* even hinted at anything like this. Well, maybe not so funny. He was not the type to saddle others with his problems.
When I opened the door his eyes lit up. The room went so silent you could hear a feather fall (and I did, from the macaw-morph at the far end of the room). The worst thing about it is that the teacher did not seem to care.
Zenk smiled throughout the rest of the class. When anyone even *attempted* to say something to him I just turned my head and *Glared*. That's really all it ever took. My tail was twitching so fast by the time class ended (and Zenk looked so relieved) I felt like I was going to explode in laughter!
Marker did not seem to care that I came into his class. All I did was show him my class sheet and he nodded once (the old… whatever. Some kind of weasel) and that was that.
When class ended, and we had a ten minute break before our next class, Zenk finally spoke to me, "Thanks a lot, Tom. Those guys were *really* ragging on me."
"Why didn't you tell me about that? I mean, I could of had myself transferred into that class and drawn some fire from you! Gladly, too."
He ducked his big head in embarrassment. "Well, you know me…"
"Yes, Zenk. I do. And you know *me*. You're my friend. Nothing that happens to either of us can change that."
"Well, it's just that you're so *different* now. Not that I don't like the 'new you', I like you *better* now in fact, it's just that… You were never like this before."
"You know as well as I do that the Change transforms you in more ways than one. Maybe it just seems counterintuitive that I am the way I am now, mentally, that is."
"What's you next class?" he asks, changing the subject.
I sigh, then take out my slip. "Lemme see, I've got Mr. Calvert for Pack Dynamics." Today was a 1-3-5 day.
"Calvert? You'll like him! He knows more about pack behavior than anyone I know! Most of his class are canines. Weren't raptors pack animals too?"
"I don't know, they must of stuck me in there for *some* reason. But if you're giving him a good rating I'm going to be happy with him. He also teaches Freshman English, right?"
"Yep. That's how I know him, from last year. You'll like it."
I surely did. Though he made an example of me throughout the whole class. Mainly by quoting from a book written by dinomorphs with this thing called 'racial memory', about how canid and dromaeosaurid pack behavior was alike. Most of those in the class had problems with *excessive* pack behavior, so I wondered again why my counselor (roast duck sounds good tonight…) put me in this class. He called my species "Cretaceous Wolf" instead of velociraptor. From what I learned in that class in just two hours it *did* sort of fit…
Just as the lunch bell rang, I asked Mr. Calvert about my seemingly cowardly behavior to Zenk's other shape. "Simple. You at least have a small amount of this racial memory, enough to realize when something is too big for yourself to handle. You were in norm-shape, right?" I nodded. "That explains it, then. When you're in norm-shape instincts are in more direct control. For all you or Zenk knows, he might of actually *hurt* you. Don't worry about it. Just think about what you're doing and you'll be able to override it." He went on to tell me he was a weak telepath and could tell I *really* did not need this class anyway, and would say as much to my counselor. I thanked him and went to lunch.
The note from Mr. Wilkes said he just wanted me to see him after school. So I met Zenk and Cody (who was *very* apprehensive, but he sat down once I recited a few things from memory only *I* would know) at our normal spot. Then Zenk surprised us. "I think I'm going to graze a little."
"What?!" Cody and I said in unison.
"You heard me. I think it's cool. Sorry I won't be able to talk with you guys, though. 'Moo' is not the most expressive word in the world. Heh."
Zenk seems to be one of those "flash" Shifters. The clothes he's wearing are specific to his kind of Shifting, he does not need to take them off, because they disappear when he Shifts and stay with him somehow. Frankly, I'm jealous. According to my science teacher there's a kind of ambient energy field responsive to thought. Those of us who are Shifters with large difference in mass either way either absorb energy from this field, turning it to mass. Or if you're something like a rat morph, converting the excess mass to this energy. That's the only Power that's really been explained, though just *how* we're commanding this energy field in the first place is a HUGE mystery. And it's thought, apparently, that's the key.
While Zenk grazed, Cody and I talked. I talked about the past couple days, mainly. He actually had similar experiences as me, so one more thing we had to add to our long list of stuff in common. He also had my class in Carnivore Behavior. "Mr. Greenblat is not the best teacher in the world." he said. "You might almost call him racist."
"Racist?" *That* was an odd word to use. "Racism" as a rule had really died out during the Plague almost sixty years ago! The Change had only made it deader. The guy must be a throwback.
"Yeah. It's just that Before the Change he had some strong opinions on some things. Seems he thinks that all dinosaurs were cold blooded, dumber than dirt, and were solitary. He's liable to say as much to your scaly face, too. I've never met a more stubborn man."
"I'll take it under advisement."
PE was very informative. Coach Swansen ("Coach" she prefers to be called) is not the morph her name implies (she's a river otter). All I really did was run. I ran and ran and ran. I found that I could go close to sixty for *very* short distances. But if I kept it to more around thirty I had as much endurance as much as I did before I Changed.
Not bad, not bad at all.
The note from Mr. Wilkes said just: "See me in my classroom after school. Mr. Wilkes."
I waited for the other students to clear the room, then opened the door and walked in myself.
****************** Part 7
I'd actually seen Mr. Wilkes on campus earlier. But I think that he thought that I was a new student, or something. "Can I help you?" He said.
When I was a freshman I had his class. Spots-for- brains (a.k.a. Ricky Oxnard) had also had the same class I did. The torment he put me through… I still shudder when I think of it.
The worst day of my life happened the day he walked in with golden spotted fur on his forearms, then arrogantly announced he was becoming a cheetah in front of the class. I had no peace after that day. Not like I'd had any before. But my grades had begun to climb out of the toilet. I'd gotten a "C" in Mr. Wilkes class first semester, and when Ricky started to Change… let's just say he gave me no peace.
"Hello Mr. Wilkes," I said to the big grizzly. "You wanted to see me?"
"I'm sorry, I don't recall…"
"I'm Tom Boxhall." His eyes went wide. He started to gape. Slowly, he lowered himself into his oversize chair.
"Tom? Yes… I…" Totally speechless. He shook his head to clear it. "Well, you certainly Changed faster than I expected! How are you feeling?"
"About eighty five million years old. Give or take a millennia," I joked. Then I sighed. "I Changed faster than I expected, too. I finished up just yesterday. My total time was about twenty two hours, four minutes, and thirty eight seconds." He gaped again, but recovered quickly.
"I'd just thought you were a new student… eighty five million? You mean the rumor is *true*?"
Mike. I pressed my hand against my tiny forehead, and gestured at myself. "Yes, I'm a dinosaur. You can see it was well as I can. Do you want to make an issue of it? Good. Everybody's got to be something. What did you want to talk to me about?"
"Ricky Oxnard."
"Figures."
"He came in here yesterday…"
"Really?"
"…and asked me for protection."
That stopped me short, I blinked in astonishment. "What?"
"I said *protection*. Mr. Oxnard is deathly afraid of you, Tom. He thinks you're going to corner him, then string his guts out on a fence."
That actually sounded like a good idea… against the law, but a good idea. Of course I did not say that to Mr. Wilkes. Ricky and I had a long history. He's made my life a living Hell. Often I would make myself sick just to keep from seeing him at school. I don't know *how* many backpacks and books I've lost to him because he's thrown them over a fence, off a bridge, into a road. He is truly the only bully I still hate.
But not enough to do anything physical to him. I know better than that. Even though stringing his guts on a picket fence was rather enticing… I doubt I have the stomach for it anyway. It sounded a little messy. "Don't worry about it Mr. Wilkes. You know me," I said confidently.
"Do I? Tom, you've changed. Before you'd of just sat and listened to me without saying a word. Now you're making all kinds of comments. Frankly, I like the change. At least I can tell you're listening." He sighed deeply. "A funny thing, when he was in here I said you were…" he started to chuckle, "…that you were becoming one of the 'best predators'! I never would of guessed this!" He seemed only now to really acknowledge what I was exactly. His expression (such as it was with that long bearish muzzle of his) went flat. "As I recall you failed my class the last semester you were in here."
I nodded glumly, "yes." *Guess* who made my grades drop? "I'm going to make it up this summer, Mr. Wilkes. I think I have the memory for all those dates now." I tailsmirked. Glad he'd changed the subject.
"Don't take this in the wrong way, Tom, but I think I'd like you in my class much earlier. I've been thinking about this since you identified yourself to me, and I think I want you at paw's length for a while at least. So for the rest of the semester I'm going to request you as my TA. You can do that instead of summer school."
*That* made me angry. Twice in one day! Do they think I'm some sort of monster? I scraped my claws across his desk, making long gouges. "Damn it! Why? What did *I* do? Is it because of these m-claws? Is it because I'm just soooo unique? I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS!!!" My voice was nearly that scream/roar I'd heard on the vid.
Then it was *his* turn to slam his claws on the desk, "That is quite enough *Mister* Boxhall! If you'll calm I'll tell you why!" I realized that when I'd gotten worked up I'd "put my foot in the Door" so to speak. My fingers had started to change to norm-shape before I realized what was happening. His voice had a nervous tint to it, he smelled just a bit… afraid? *That* helped me get a handle on it immediately. I took a couple of deep breaths.
"Tom," he said. "I'd of asked you if you were a lion, tiger, wolf, leopard, what-have-you. It's because you Changed so fast. Most of those your age have had time to get used to new instincts as they appear. You Changed so fast that one may hit you when you're not expecting it. Now, I don't have to deal with such instincts, but you might. I just want you at paw's length if something *does* happen, at least for a few hours at a time."
I sighed. He was right. If it's one thing I probably *don't* know how to handle it's instincts. Especially if what I've read about raptors is true. "Fine. Is there anything *else* Mr. Wilkes before I go?"
"One more thing. You've become a very powerful creature, Tom. And you've been bullied. That is a dangerous combination. All I'll say is: watch yourself. That's all I'll ask. I'll see you Monday."
I left his classroom in a bit of a huff. As soon as I was off campus I removed those stupid claw shields, and let the *click, click* of my m-claws help me forget a little of Mr. Wilkes speech. "'Watch yourself' he says. What for?" On the way home I pass a 7-11 store, and I was just a little bit hungry, so I decided to stop.
The smells inside made my nostrils ("naris" is the correct term, I'd found out) contract. It smelled like chocolate, potato chips, alfalfa, hay, and all sorts of things all mixed together. They obviously filter the air for odors, so I stood under a vent for a while to clear my nose. All the while the check out clerk (a rodent of some kind) stared at me.
I went over into the back behind a tall shelf of "Herbivore Delights" that hid me from view of the rest of the store. Some brilliant store designer had put all the carnivore stuff on the wall opposite the herbivore stuff. As a result I was left alone while I looked at all the stuff now available to me. Most of the items had beef in them, though, and I'd not had opportunity to ask Zenk about the beef thing yet, so I settled with a chicken meateater's burrito. I went up and paid for it, then went back to the microwave to heat it up.
While the microwave was humming away, I heard the door open. I was still rather hidden, and no one could see me (or smell me, I was under that intake vent again). I heard a familiar voice, "Yeah, uh… I was uh… sick this morning so I decided to ditch. What'd I miss in PPR Burnout?"
"Um… I'd hate to tell you this Ricky, but today was the absolute *last* opportunity to turn in your report."
I heard a snarl of frustration. "Damn Boxhead! It's all his fault!! Not like I did the thing anyway." There was more talking, but an admittedly evil plan was forming in my mind. As they moved more towards the back of the store where *I* was, I moved in the opposite direction, keeping hidden as best I could with that tail of mine. I succeeded rather well. "Oh look," said Ricky from where the microwave was, "Some idiot left his food in the microwave." Then I heard the microwave door open and close.
The next thing I did was go to the front of the store and open both doors. What happened next was very funny.
Ricky was eating my burrito as he came to the front. The scent of the burrito was really intense, I could smell it from here, but he had his eyes looking more at the floor than at the door. He did not see me leaning against the doorjamb, my legs crossed, idly cleaning my fingerclaws with a stiff brush (I'm quite vain about my claws if you had not noticed), alternating with a sharpening stone.
There had been a lot of talking between those two, but I knew they'd seen me when I heard the talking stop. The smell of fear was suddenly heavy in the air. "Hello Ricky," I said, not looking up from my sharpening. "Enjoying *MY* burrito?" I glanced up from my fingers.
"Burnout" was actually a Lowddie black leopard (no tail), *he* was backed against the wall. Burnout was almost as bad as Ricky, but I felt no hatred for him. He was the follower type, and if he was not so influenced by Ricky I doubted he'd be so bad. So I let him go.
Ricky himself was so scared he looked like he was about to have a breakdown. I uncrossed my legs, tapped my foot (Ricky would jump at each loud *click*), then picked one foot up and made a show of sharpening the m-claw. "There, that's better. Nice and *sharp.*" I said, then I repeated the performance with the other foot (I'd paid close attention to the claw care part of the dinomorph video).
With the atmosphere between us just the way I wanted it, I put away my stuff into my backpack, then made a show of stretching out, doing all the pre-run exercises. All the while Ricky was frozen in complete terror. I stepped aside from the door. "To give you a sporting chance *this time*, I'll give you a two second head start. Starting… now."
He was out the door before I even finished saying "starting." I gave him his two seconds (I'm no liar). The chase was on.
He was very clumsy, and his trail was very easy to follow, I did not even need his scent. Often I kept him just in sight where he could not see me. He'd stop sometimes to catch his breath, and I'd let him for a few minutes then do that terrifying roaring scream that I can do, and he'd sprint off again.
We did this off and on for about an hour. It was very fun (for me at least, he'd actually done this to me a couple times last month and last year, one of the reasons I'm such a good endurance runner, so it was payback time). Ricky was no endurance runner, though. After a while I just jogged a short way behind him, hardly tired, while he was panting hard and wheezing.
I finally cornered him at a tall wooden fence, he was way too tired to climb it. I paused at the end of the "alley" between two rows of houses, panting myself and growling. "Well, Ricky, you've given me my exercise for the day. And before we end it I just want to say one thing." Suddenly I ran towards him with all the speed I could muster… then skidded to a stop just in front of him (and amazed myself that I didn't crash into him, not used to this body yet). He had just pulled in on himself in terror, and was covering his belly in an attempt to protect it. His ears were back against his head, his eyes were tightly shut, and he was visibly trembling.
With no fanfare, I pushed the tip of a claw very lightly between his feline nostrils, just enough to sting a little, in the same gesture he always did to me at the end of our chases, then added my own touch. "Tag. You're *IT*." I said in a quiet growl. Then I turned and walked away like nothing had happened.
It was starting to rain again and I heard a door open behind me, "Awww, did the wittle kitty wet his wittle pants?" said a female voice I sort of recognized from school, speaking to Ricky, who was still too scared to even move. "Poor wittle kitty got scared of Tommy Wommy…" I heard no more as I rounded the corner in the thickening rainfall, heading for home.