Tips: 0.00 INK
by Thekherham on Sun Aug 22, 2010 10:12 am
The new year has arrived, so I will join with the rest of the Alharhanians and Tereskàdians on this planet, and wish everybody a HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I guess, for the moment, I should stop being so cynical about everything. The weather for this festive occasion is cold, but sunny; the cubs and children are enjoying their last day of a month-long holiday before they return to school tomorrow; I have Jhalhemha in my chamber for the first of five days; my brothers and their families are here; the Thalen family arrived shortly before I retired to my room to write this entry in my journal... Let’s see, what else? The big moment, when the clock changed from N’herhachyzh 29, 5698 to T’hălhachyzh 1, 5699 was presided over by President Ten Arbhonhal, who started the official countdown from 20, and when he reached 10, everybody joined in, until that last number, and then everybody started cheering and screaming, and the noise was so deafening that I turned off my hearing completely. My family and I were surrounded by Alharhanians and Tereskàdians and whistling dragons, and the only way we could communicate was via our whistling dragons.
On the first day of this new year, the celebrations are continuing, but at a much more quieter pace. The Dhoren home is filled with relatives and visitors. There are so many Alharhanians here that the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons are spending most of their time outside. Today is also the first day of spring, but you wouldn’t know it with all the snow on the ground. Having lived here for agood number of years I can tell you that spring will not defeat winter and this snow until about the middle of the month.
You will notice that so far I have not continued the incident that I mentioned in the previous chapter. I would love to write some more about that, but Rhalhea and Keridhar have come into the room, and my mate is looking over my shoulder to see what I’m doing. She is reading what I have written so far, and reminds me to leave my pessimistic attitude at the door. But I never said anything about mentioning the incident with Rheôvhan ever again. It looks like I’ll get back to that next time I continue this journal.
Speaking of Rheôvhan, he and his family arrived mid-afternoon, and we greeted each other warmly. Other Alharhanians who arrived were Lheana’s father, T’henhar ‘Hărlen. It is rather odd to see Khe’ăr’s employer in this house. I noticed that neither Khe’ăr’s mother, or Lheana’s mother were here. Soon after his father’s death, Khe’ăr’s mother moved to the country of A’hăthar, which is on the west coast of this continent. As for Senha ‘Hărlen, she is currently in the North Treskebhar General Hospital, where she is being treated for a broken hip.
Talk, talk, talk, and more talk. Even though I’m in my room, working on this journal, I have my ears pricked, listening to bits and bites of conversation. The one doing most of the talking now is S’horel Thalen, and how Alharhanians try to get aboard shuttles flying up to the mothership orbiting Alharhan, because they do not want to play the fare to Tereskàdhar. Mind you, he says, in the old days it was pretty expensive to go up there, but now, the average family could affort to visit Tereskàdhar. Well, I thought, it depends on how rich the average family was.
The quiet ones were the Tereskàdians, especially the cubs. Just by looking at Jhorhea and Rheža I could tell they were bored with the whole gathering. Via Kykherhenha I told them if they wanted to go to their room and play, nobody would mind. So, not too long afterward, my two cubs, and the cubs of all the Tereskàdians who were presently in this house, disappeared down the hall, and into Jhorhea and Rheža’s room. All of them were accompanied by their whistling dragons, of course.
Rhalhea is checking up on me. She is standing in the doorway, asking me to come join the others. In a bit, I say, not specifying how much time ‘a bit’ is. It is still afternoon, so it looks like most of these Alharhanians and Tereskàdians and whistling dragons will be here for a few more hours.
Your fur looks scraggly, she says.
I look at myself. Yeah, I guess I should do something about that. Hmm, I wonder if Alharhanians have it easier because they have no fur. All they have to do is wash their skin. Well, maybe hair is the closest thing they have to fur, but that’s really not the same thing. I am covered in fur all over, and if I don't groom myself at least once a day, it tends to take over my body, rearranging itself every which way, until I look like a t’hŏphar. Yeah, those smelly, awful-tasting mammals native to the island of ‘Hănharys on Tereskàdhar look like they don’t even care about their fur, and wouldn’t know grooming if you scratched the word into their foreheads.
It seems that almost everyone who lives on Brežendra Road has come to Khe’ăr and Lheana’s house. I just noticed one of the neighbors walking down the hall, followed by his son. The son looks into my room but the father pulls him away, telling him not to bother me.
As the evening wears on, the conversation invariably turns to the Tereskàdians and their lot in life. Do we have it easy now, because of the Tereskàdian Act, T’henhar ‘Hărlen wonders aloud. Most of the Alharhanians in this house think so. They mention that many centuries ago, when the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons were first discovered, the Alharhanians treated them like animals. Oh, no, I thought, here we go again. That phrase, ‘treated like animals’, is really driving me up the wall. Oh, look at us, they say, we ‘treated you like animals’, but now we don’t do that anymore, because of the Tereskàdian Act of 5693. No, they don’t treat us like animals anymore, but there are still other, subtler, ways we are treated. These ways are illegal, of course, but what do you do when a restaurant owner tell you that you and your whistling dragon can’t come into his establishment because the place is full, and you know damn well that he is lying. And they know you know. Tereskàdians know with 100% certainty when somebody is lying. No ifs, ands, or buts. Sometimes you’re really pissed off because you’re hungry, and you quote the Tereskàdian Act, and they let you in reluctantly. And what do they do then? They still, simple as that. Hey, where’s the menu? I thought you were carnivores. But we’d still like a menu. We’ll be there shortly. When they finally do get to you, and bring you a menu, you have to wait the Creator only knows how long before they get back to you. You wait and you wait, and your stomach rumbles, and you see other Alharhanians being served, and you know they came in long after you did. When the meal finally arrives, they toss it on the table without a word, and they leave without a smile. Other times, you don’t really care, and walk away from the establishment, telling yourself that it wasn’t really worth the trouble.
Well, will you look at that? I said I wasn’t going to be cynical... Oh, well, I have written it down now, and I don’t really care if anybody sees it.
I am going to straighten out my fur... and my tail. Even as I think this, a strange Alharhanian child walks into my room (she could be one of the neighbor’s, but I’m not sure), and asks me if my tail is heavy. Just like that. You got a big tail, she says. Is it heavy? And I tell her no, it’s not heavy, it’s just a part of my body, like my arms or my legs. Then she asks me if she can touch it, and I tell her yes, she can, but please don’t pull it. I have to tell her this because most Alharhanian children her age (she looks to be about four or five) love to pull things. So she touches it very lightly, and remarks on the softness of my fur. A moment later, her father shows up and asks me what I’m doing. I tell him his daughter had asked about my tail, and the only thing he says is, Stay away from my daughter.
I don’t even bother to say anything because I knew he doesn’t like Tereskàdians. I return to my journal, but I can still sense him standing there, waiting for me to confront him. When I don’t give him the satisfaction, he leaves, his daughter holding his hand. If this had been any time prior to the Tereskàdian Act, he could have killed me, and no one would have said anything against it.
You know what? If the Tereskàdian Act had been written and passed into law ten years earlier, my mother and father, and all the Tereskàdians who were slaughtered on ‘Hănharys might still be alive.
If... if... if... So many possibilities are hidden in that word. I could write a whole book using that word based on my life and the lives of all Tereskàdians. But I won’t do that now because while I have been working on this journal I have also been grooming myself, and Kykherhenha has been taking care of my penis. When I look in the mirror I can seen that I have made myself much more presentable.
I shall now go and join the others. I will try not to stir up trouble by bringing up delicate subjects. Most likely I will go outsdie where it is a bit quiet, with only a few Tereskàdians and whistling dragons milling about.
Anyway, Happy New Year, for a few more hours, and then it will be back to the real world... school, and work, and looking forward to the year 5700, only 419 days away.
T’hălhachyzh 1, 5699/Day 1
Tip jar: the author of this post has received
0.00 INK
in return for their work.