Bol and Bel are urban (and sometimes, urbane) creatures who live on a planet called SOM (short for the "Ship of Monkeys") populated by four distinct species -- Monkeys, Doggies, AEs (short for the "Arch Enemies") and Rwaonds (short for the "rest who are of non-doggie species). Bol is a beautiful, headstrong, worldly, unpredictable (of the "Captain Jack Sparrow" ilk, for "Pirates" fans), somewhat irresponsible, adult Doggie. Bel is a somewhat cloyingly sweet, overly curious, naive, gangly teen Doggie, who appears attractive in a certain light. Bel and Bol were both lovingly adopted and live with Ma Monkey and Pa Monkey who bestow all kinds of affection on Bel and Bol and as such, are sadly, the unwitting slaves of these two Doggies. These are their conversations....
It was another apple-crisp fall day in SOM. Cloud ballerinas pirouetted and frolicked in an azure sky. The sun’s warmth rounded out the edges of a cool breeze. The world felt new and full of promises for our two young protagonists. Bel and Bol were exploring the tiny garden at the back of the house, as was their wont on lazy, weekend afternoons. The garden was lovingly, if somewhat carelessly, tended by Ma Monkey (who invariably remembered to water the plants while in the midst of other, more important tasks). The garden’s flowers, herbs, fruits and vegetables attracted a number of Lepidoptera, which were a source of endless fascination for Bel. Bol, a consummate, cynic plagued by ennui, couldn’t be less interested…
Bel: (skipping merrily) Bol! Look!
Bol: (yawns lazily)
Bel: (leaping over some potted mint) Whee! Look at me! I’m flying!
Bol: (mutters under his breath) Yeah, right. (Loudly) Why my little Bel is quite the Icarus! Bravo!
Bel: (stops short and then, haltingly) Who’s Ica… Ikeh…rus?
Bol: (afraid of opening a can of worms, starts furiously concentrating on a live worm instead) Never you mind.
Bel: (cheerily) Okey-dokey! (returns to her flying acrobatic antics)
Bol: (in the meantime, flops down in a sunny spot for a snooze)
Bel: (stops jumping and starts sniffing one of the flower beds intently) Bol, do you smell something?
Bol: (opening an eye) Well, your pee-smell in that corner is rather overpowering, ne c’est pas? Other smells don’t stand a chance! (Satisfied with this latest barb at Bel’s puerile habit of peeing in the garden, Bol goes back to daydreaming of catching AEs.)
Bel: (to herself) Fine, I won’t share what I find with you then. So, there! The smell is somewhat like the yellowish, paper-wrapped food that Ma and Pa Monkey get from the big food place. I love that stuff! Or, I “think” I would love it just from the delicious smell that wafts from the paper cover… I’ve never actually eaten the yellowish, waxy-looking brick inside… I don’t even know what it’s called! I bet Bol would know, but I’m not going to tell him. This smell and what lies at the end of this scent trail will be my very own secret. (Roots around in the dirt and viola, finds a piece of cheese and promptly eats it!)
Bol: (sensing food-related activity perks up) Bel, what are you munching on?
Bel: (in muffled tones, due a full mouth) Nuff-ing.
Bol: (in a threatening tone) ‘Fess up, Bel!
Bel: Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. You know that yellowish brick thing that Ma Monkey loves to eat?
Bol: What? You mean – cheese?
Bel: (as usual, losing her train of thought) So that’s what it’s called. I always wondered, you know!
Bol: (growls impatiently) Grrrowl!
Bel; (taking her cue) Right, where was I? Cheese (saying the unfamiliar word carefully). Yes, there is a Cheese Tree in this garden and since I discovered it, its mine.
Bol: (managing a sound between a laugh and a cough) Hrrumph! Really now?
Bel: (courage getting fainter by the nanosecond) I guess it wouldn’t hurt to share with you and of course, with (her true love) Ma Monkey and (her other true love) Pa Monkey.
Bol: (amused at Bel’s phantasmagoria of a cheese tree, but for once taking pity at Bel’s vivid, unschooled imagination) Whatever you say, Bel. What-ever you say.
Bel goes back to rooting around at the base of the plant she has renamed The Cheese Tree. Finding nothing after a few minutes of a thorough search and sniff, she bounds off inside the house to deliver telepathic hints to Ma Monkey in order to make her water the plants so that more cheese could be enjoyed by all!
Bol, still in the garden, goes back to a semi-doze state, mesmerized by the beauty of a floating mite in a shimmery tube of light.
THE END
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