Squonk

 

The sounds of spring filled the air. Birds sang to each other, building nests and finding partners. Bugs hummed and chirped while frogs croaked. Bunnies and squirrels skittered across the ground and trees, joining the world in the celebration of new life. Leaves were sliding from buds as flowers let loose their first blossoms, painting the air with the soft scents of their perfumes.

On the ground, water sat in small barely noticeable puddles. Every few feet the puddles glimmered in the sunlight, leaving a strange path forward into the woods. The sun gave the world a sense of newness, yellow light bouncing off of the bright green leaves. Here and there butterflies trembled awake and danced in the air.

I paused at the first puddle, looking down at the water. It hadn’t rained for days. There was no reason for these strange little water deposits to be sitting on the earth. Leaning down, I touched the tiny puddle and brought my fingers to my nose. It smelled of nothing but the earth it sat upon. Grimacing, I touched my tongue to the fluid. 

It was salty. Not quite like the sea but still carrying hints of salt that normal water wouldn’t. My brows furrowed and I stood up, glancing ahead at the path of puddles before me. There had been no local complaints. Just random stories and jeers and laughter. Humans that made fun of the estranged creature that lived within their woods.

Hunts had happened, driving it away from the odd farm or road. Yet the thing had simply fled, leaving behind the world of mortals to stay within the lush woods. In mocking tales, they teased the creature’s existence, calling it every word they had for ugly. My heart broke at their words and before I knew it, I had left the tavern to wander in the woods.

My feet carried me forward, following the long trail of puddles into the woods. The creature left a difficult path, choosing to dart between trees and shrubs rather than walk straight through. It was small enough that it could be hunted. And no doubt, from what I heard, it had been.

Through the woods it wound until I found myself in a dense section of apple trees. The water puddles didn’t grow in size but began to disappear. As I entered, I heard the strange combination of grunting and a wailing sound of sobbing. 

“Hello?” I asked, voice tentative.

The sobbing stopped briefly, silence touching the trees. An apple fell and thudded to the ground before rolling beneath the foliage. Leaves rustled on a nearby bush. I turned and walked towards it as the sound of sniffing came from its trembling branches.

“I won’t hurt you.” 

A loud wail touched the woods. Birds stopped chirping. We all paused, holding our breath, somehow afraid of the sound while also feeling the instinct to stop and listen. I moved my hand to the bush and pushed aside some of the branches, trying to see the creature within.

He was louder than he was certainly large. Small, like a pet pig, the creature was sitting on his hips, wrinkled loose skin stacked along its back. Warts and cauliflower growths rose from each bit of skin and a strange odor came from the beast’s marred body. Folded ears flopped on each side of its head, waggling with each sob that the beast took.

I grimaced. “Hello… You’re alright…”

He turned, large round eyes teaming with tears towards me. They were red from so much weeping. My heart gave a pang of sorrow for them, thinking of all the cruel things the villagers had said. 

“I’m so sorry,” I said softly. “For how cruel they’ve been to you. You don’t deserve that.”

The great watery eyes stared at me unblinking. I reached out, moving slowly, giving the squonk time to move away. When he didn’t move, I touched the rough bumpy skin of his cheek. 

“But they all say it.” His voice was high pitched and filled with the sadness of loneliness. It pulled at my heartstrings.

My thumb wiped away a large tear that rolled down his cheek. “Of course they do. There will always be people who are cruel because they are incapable of realizing kindness will make their lives better. It has nothing to do with you, my love. That is all about them. Don’t let their cruel natures define you.”

The squonk shifted, standing up on its short legs covered in rolls of flesh. I moved my hand and sat down on the forest floor, patting my lap softly. The pig-like creature moved forward, snout snuffling along the ground, dragging snot with his movement. He trudged towards me and paused right before my leg, tilting his head upward so that the rolls of skin fell back off of his eyes and looked at me.

“Why?”

My brows furrowed. “Why what?” 

“Why are you being nice?”

I swallowed back my own sadness at the question and touched the rolls on his neck, fingers gently playing over the marred skin. “Because I would love to have you as a friend. And I can’t be friends with you if I’m mean.”

The squonk shrugged. “You could be.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. Friends aren’t mean to one another. Not even in jokes.”

He shifted and plopped down, moving to rest his head on my lap. My hand moved over his neck and back, gently petting the warty skin. Bits of hair stuck out of the flesh here and there. “You really want to be my friend?”

“I do.”

“What do friends do?”

“Well, they talk to each other. About life, or struggles, or how they’re feeling. They’re kind to each other and support each other. Sometimes they just sit around, being quiet, and just being together.”

“So…” his eyes glanced up at me. I couldn’t see his eyes, just the brows moving. “This is being friends?”

I nodded, patting his head and rubbing the ear closest to me. “Sometimes, it’s like this.”

We sat in silence, listening to the birds that had resumed their chirping as the sobbing had stopped. The little creature in my lap gave a sniffle and then inhaled a long deep breath. He held it and then let it out in a prolonged sigh, somewhere between relief and the sadness of perspective, remembering what had been just a moment ago.

Eventually, his little body began to relax, flopping onto his side and showing his warty belly to me. I sat with him, petting the bumpy skin wherever he showed it to me. His eyes moved, glancing around the woods, suddenly seeing the birds and butterflies flitting around. His nose twitched, smelling the flowers for the first time. 

Time moved around us, the sun flowed over the sky and twilight began to settle in. He shifted, lifting his head to look at the moon threatening the horizon. “Will you need to leave soon?” 

Tears swelled in his eyes, insecurity rising in his voice. I caressed his head again, gentle but firm in my meaning.

“I do usually sleep at night. But I can camp here tonight, if you want.”

His ears and eyes perked up. “You’d stay?”

I nodded. “Of course. If you like it here. But tomorrow I’ll need to go.”

“Where?” He turned, looking at me.

“Wherever I need to go. I help people generally.” 

A tear slid down his plump cheek and splashed onto the ground. I felt the threat of his wailing touch his throat. 

“But, you could always come with me, if you wanted.”

The little pig stood up, ears perked, eyebrows pulled up as high as he could, little tail wiggling behind him. “Really?”

“Yes. We can travel together.”

“Like friends?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

He leaned over, pressing his body against me. He was warm and gentle, cuddling against my side and hip. I wrapped an arm around his body, holding him against me. He breathed, slow and steadily, the tears falling away to give way to the gentle relaxed body I had seen just moments before. We sat quietly, letting him think about everything we had just discussed. 

“I’m grateful you’re my friend,” he finally said, voice small and relaxed.

“Me too, my love. Me too.”