The cinnamon scent drifts down the road past the FlaminGo, away from Raven’s Mirage and toward Phone Nerds.
I’ll be that way later. Need this ID thing first.
The scent of his destination fills his nose, and it’s a subtle, soft aroma that seems to change from cedar to rosemary to pine to cottonwood and back to cedar. It’s a forest smell, but made of bricks and mortar.
Big Sal shakes his head.
Not sure if I’ll ever understand this human world.
And with that thought, he pushes through a door with a bunch of cups stenciled on the outside into a lobby where many different people mingle. And an animal.
“The Hooks croc!” says someone from across the room. “I knew we’d be seeing you!”
A breeze of a muddy smell passes through him, with hints of cilantro and a tang of something slightly stinky.
What was that?
The room turns to look at him. It isn’t full, but still enough humans to feel like Hooks last night. A crowd, but now they’re all standing in lines, not sitting. A mix of sweet banana and mango fills the room.
No one moves from their line. A number of people wave, some hold phones and mouth “selfie” to him. A few just look bored.
“Right over here sir,” says someone in a blue uniform that smells an awful lot like security from the Zit & Grit but with more coffee. “Glad to see you, sir. Wait time is about fifteen minutes. You got here early. That’s good.”
The security-coffee person motions him to a line, and he stands behind a woman wearing a hat that smells like rabbit, cow from the jacket and shoes, reminding him of a different human from long ago, although not as tasty smelling anymore.
Banana scent puffs out from him, and he looks around. The animal he smelled earlier is still here, but he can’t see it.
He looks up at a TV on the wall where local news talks about new animals at the local zoo, and then about warming temperatures in the rural areas.
Fifteen minutes later, after three selfies and having something called a business card handed to him, he stands before a woman. Initially bored, when she notices him, she focuses and hints of green-tea hiss out of the transparent box she sits inside.
“Ah yes. You. My kid showed me your video. Well, today I guess we’re gonna get you identification. First things first, put your thumb, claw, arm or noodly appendage against the sensor on your right.”
A little red light flashes on, illuminating something that looks like a phone. After a moment, he touches the not-phone.
It beeps, and a moment later the woman behind the counter looks confused.
“D…N…A match…unsuccessful. Not amphibian…not mammalian…STACEY. What do I do here?”
Another person steps into the cubicle space the woman sits in. This one looks at the screen.
“Huh. Well it’s not unheard of. He’ll need to see Doctor Crow.” She turns her attention to Big Sal. “The doctor is busy at the moment, but should be done in about ten minutes. Have a seat over there,” she says, gesturing towards three chairs against the wall, all empty. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?”
“Water would be nice.”
Big Sal tries to sit, but the tail doesn’t fit. After a moment, Stacey comes out carrying a folding chair, and the gap in the back gives ample space for his tail. Water-return surrounds her in a pleasant aroma.
How did she know?
“Thank you,” he says. “That was…”
“Oh, not a problem. We’ve dealt with stranger things, believe you me. Everyone deserves to be looked after.”
A digital clock on the opposite side of the room, near where he came in, shows 8:15. He isn’t sure what this means. It changes to 8:16 as he watches. When it reaches 8:30, Stacey reappears.
“Doctor Crow will see you now. Come with me.”
“Things sure get more expensive the more we sit,” says Big Sal, thinking the time meant cash, like at Hooks. He swings the plastic bag over his shoulder and trails Stacey.
Stacey’s scent shifts to misunderstanding, to water-return and something else.
She shrugs and smirks. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
Down a hallway that is more lemon-antiseptic she leads him to a door where the animal scent is the strongest. She opens the door.
A small man, not much bigger than a child, sits in a chair on wheels. He pushes away a screen that swings on an arm and sets a keyboard down.
The scent coming from the man is decidedly not human, but very much Crow. Yet there are no feathers, no crows’ feet, and no beak. But he hops up and his movements could be crow-like. His dark eyes are bright, intense.
“Here’s his initial scan, Doctor Crow,” says Stacey, handing him a file.
“Thank you, Stacey,” he says. She turns and exits the room quietly.
Turning to Big Sal, “Ah! You’re new to Ankerton, aren’t you?” he says. “I’ve been hearing about you.”
Big Sal looks around the room. There are beanbags, a couch, a couple chairs folded up in the corner and a soft throw rug in the middle of the room.
“Something about being viral, I guess?” he says.
Mr. Crow smiles. “Sometimes we come to the world a little sideways, yes. But this isn’t about that.”
He looks at the printouts from Stacey, then back at him. His attention is like a ray of sunlight through shade on a hot day, a warm piercing that relaxes everything. Big Sal slumps to the soft floor, sleepy. The bag rolls toward the door.
“Most interesting. What’s your name?”
“Big Sal. But not ‘isbury.’ I’m not a steak. I was Rick for a while, but that was a mistake. Before that I was Big Al, but something changed. I don’t know what. I talked to an owl. It sent me here.”
Mr. Crow smiles. “Big Al. Rick. Big Sal,” he says, writing this down. “Less reptilian than before. More human than expected. Mm. Do you know where you are headed? What your destination is?”
“Uhm. Back to Hooks. What time is it? I’m supposed to be there for 11 AM but I don’t know what time it is.”
Mr. Crow tilts his head, birdlike. He looks up at a digital clock on the wall. Big Sal follows his gaze.
“It’s just after 8:30. You’ve got lots of time.”
“That isn’t eight dollars and thirty cents?”
Mr. Crow tilts his head the other way. “No.”
Big Sal doesn’t know why, but he feels his cheeks getting wet. A part of him wants to curl up and just sleep here.
What is happening to me?
“Is the garbage bag important?” asks Mr. Crow, glancing at it
“I was told it was, but I have no idea.”
“What’s in it?”
“A crocodile skin.”
“Yours?”
“No, someone else’s. I…I don’t know why I’m carrying someone else’s old stuff around.”
“Mmm. That is a good question. But not one that needs answering right now. Rather, is the place you come from still important to you?”
Stinkwater? I haven’t thought about it in forever.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Would you ever want to go back?”
Hooks had solved the food problem.
I need a place to live. Don’t have swamps here.
“Maybe. Probably. But not for a long time. I have good things here. I want to stay here where I am for a while.”
“Mmm. You’re happy?”
“…what does that mean?”
For a moment, Dr. Crow doesn’t say anything.
Then, “Content? Satisfied?”
“Getting there, I think. I don’t know. Humans are so confusing. This world is so confusing. I’m just trying to be me and I don’t know what’s happening. Am I still a crocodile? Maybe not? That scares me.”
“Life is full of adventures.”
Big Sal doesn’t know what to say. His tail twitches and he feels himself sinking into the soft carpet.
The moment stretches out, and then Dr. Crow clicks his pen.
Big Sal’s sleepiness begins to lift like night shifting to day.
“I think I’ve got everything I need,” says Dr. Crow. “Stay strong, my boy. See Stacey on the way out.”
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Chapter 23 podcast drops May 30
Chapter 24 text drops June 7
