Smart & Like-Minded Followers

Friday, 6 December 2013

The Curious Case of Mr. Lenin Trotsky

Story Corner #1

For Mr. Eriksson Smith, the quality time he will be spending with his daughter is a feeling beyond the unimaginable and an incessant worry that forms a tight knot in his stomach. He is well aware of the strained, wrinkled and fragile bond that he shares with his only daughter. Nevertheless, he tries hard to please his adolescent child who he loves unconditionally. Hence, Mr. Smith decides to treat his daughter with the beauty of the wildlife in the hopes of winning her love back. There is one small problem though... Eriksson Smith has always had a series of rather unfortunate events which always waters his good intentions. Still, he is convinced that there is nothing that can possibly go wrong.

As we return to the present, I shall take a leave and handover the responsibility of the story-telling to Eriksson lovely daughter, Erika. Please ignore the cheeky comments from the adolescent Erika. She’s in that ‘I’m too cool for you phase’, the stereotypical ‘social butterfly’ that I have always loathed. I wonder how such people don’t bang into walls; I mean they are so caught up in their own world... Might as well throw them in a pool filled with snakes and they’ll still take ‘selfies’ with the captions; ‘I’m so wild, chilling with snakes that are going to kill me after I upload this picture’. And this gets like over 10,000 likes.
Never mind, I’m the one from the wrong century. This may not be a ‘blog post’ per se but I decided that I’d entertain my reader with a short story. Yes, it is unusual and maybe a first but why not take the risks, for C’est la vie! Without further ado, here I bestow before you ‘The Curious Case of Mr. Lenin Trotsky.’
“There are definitely no wild animals here”, said my father, as we were setting up our tent in the middle of the woods. “And I believe you, father.” I said aimlessly staring at the glowing screen of my iPad. The sarcasm in my voice goes unnoticed by him. So much for bonding and getting to know each other. All I really care about is not losing network in this wilderness.

Who cares about a bunch of carnivores?

The bushes behind us rustle annoyingly, the endless echoing of silence and fresh air has begun me a headache. I live in the heart of Stockholm; I need incessant honking, phone ringing, loud television noises and pollution in the air for a good night’s sleep. My father unexpectedly pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t worry princess! Daddy’s here.” Oh heavens let me breathe, daddy is killing me!  I break away and nurse my swollen arms, what is wrong with this man! I get hives and I’m sure my arms resemble those of 2 hot-air balloons. This man needs to get his priorities sorted, “I’ll protect you; I am fearless, confident and smart!” says my father his chest swelling with pride. Men and their egos!

There is a sudden loud crack that resonates above our heads. The sky darkens, with a streak of lighting shooting across dangerously. I tear my eyes away and raise my eyebrow in confusion; wasn’t my father was here a minute ago. I hear teeth chattering and heavy breathing behind me. I turn around and come face to face with my father- whose face resembles that of a corpse. He tries to look nonchalant and whistles pretentiously. I roll my eyes and tug his arm towards the tent. “Apprehensive, hesitant and stupid!” I mutter under my breathe and pull the sleeping bag over my body whilst filling my ears to the music of Little Mix. I turn my back to my father and shuffle further away from him, I hear him sigh deeply like a wounded animal. Even though it tugs at my heart strings, I strengthen my core and shrug off feeling any pity for my father. “I wasn’t frightened Erika, I was caught by sur-“ I cut him off and say rather curtly, “Save it father.”

After awhile, I rise slowly from my sprawled sleeping position. Eriksson sleeps on his stomach his hands above his head. We sleep the same way but other than my olive green eyes, we have no similarities. My eyes peer at a silhouette of an animal that trudges silently on the grass, outside the tent. 

“Psst... Father, wake up.” I whisper hastily, I throw my shawl over his face but he doesn’t respond. I call out again this time an octave higher and Eriksson turns on his back, my shawl slipping off his face. I feel my body stiffen instinctively; the silhouette’s shadow rises and darkens with his every move. My eyes pop but I stay frozen to my limbs, my mind prepares a countdown to my death in my head and all I can do is glower at Eriksson the sleeping idiot.

I watch the figure slowly push open the tent flap aside and walk in. Eriksson suddenly wakes up and regards me intently, I jerk my head in the direction of the animal but my attempts go in vain. Eriksson begins to get up, my heart jumps and I motion for him to stop, being as smooth as possible. 

“Father, don’t move… there is a yellow animal covered in black spots, who is fast and ferocious on all fours right behind you.” My voice escalates but Eriksson rolls his eyes. “Erika, I’m daunt-” He turns around and the cheetah is nose to nose with him. “-Oh shit” He completes his voice that resembling a 6 year old. I watch my father falls slowly to the ground and the cheetah towering over his body. Almost eerily, Adele begins to sing Skyfall on my iPod. This is the end, hold your breath and count to 10, feel the earth move and then, here my heart burst again-

“Relax! My name is Lenin Trotsky, I’m Sudeten-German. Hail Hitler!” What! I stop Adele and gaze wide eyed as the cheetah shoots his paw out and accidentally knocks my father’s nose, the latter doesn’t make a move to nurse his bleeding nose. My jaw hits the wet ground, the animal speaks. I’m either dreaming or hallucinating or my brain is trying to make my death more commercialised. “Eh…sorry sir.” Says Lenin apologetically and as for my father, he lives to nod in reply.

The cheetah lifts off my father but takes a seat beside him. Eriksson straightens up precariously his countenance shaken. Lenin takes out a cigarette from his ear and lights it up by striking a match to his backside. The cheetah blows rings of smoke and I watch him dumfounded. He feels my heavy gaze and flashes me a toothy grin. I shiver, gulping whatever little saliva in my mouth. Lenin moves forward and takes my hand into his paw. 

“Fraulein, how did I not notice such a beautiful work of art. Forgive me my lady, these eyes were distracted.” Lenin kisses my hand. Actually more of saliva coating. I take my hand out and wipe it on my sleeves. Eww and phew!

“You must have names.” Lenin props itself on one arm and looks at us expectantly. My father blinks hesitantly but stutters to answers; “I’m Eriksson and this is my daughter Erika.” I give a tight smile and Lenin nods in approval. Never in my wildest dreams would a cheetah be flirting with me. “Lovely name, Lovely girl.” Lenin winks and I change the topic. “How did you stumble onto our tent?"

“Fraulein Erika, you see I was being chased by these cheetahs, vicious creatures with impeccable speed I tell you. I managed to lead them off and circle back here.” Lenin puffs another ring of smoke as if the memory was quite troubling. What is this freaky Friday? “You’re a cheetah.” I say incredulously. He seems offended and he pats my father’s arm as if to say ‘what’s she crazy?’ My poor father jerks quite violently, but luckily Lenin doesn’t notice it. 

“I am not a cheetah! I’m human like you and your father.”
“What nonsense you’re furry.”  Lenin threw his paws in the air and then an arm around my father, who I’m sure nearly died of fright. “I haven’t waxed in ages, there I said it and yes I’m not proud of it.” I pinch myself, this can’t be reality. 

“You have whiskers and a tail!” I counter, my poor father who is drenched with sweat prays for me to stop pestering Lenin. The latter lights another cigarette his arm still slung around my father’s shoulders.

 “I have a thin beard and this is not a tail, it’s actually a-”
“Are you kidding me?” I laugh loudly. 
“You’re insulting me.” Lenin is close enough for me to see the gold flecks in his eyes, I reply calmly, “What are you going to do eat me, but humans don’t eat other humans.”  Lenin sneers and storms off, muttering angrily to himself, “Stupid people, insulting Lenin Trotsky, must be Jews…”

I walk to my father and remove his hand which was covering his eyes. “I could have handled that I just-?”
“Oh, I know daddy you’re the best.” I hug my father and kiss his cheek lightly. Patting his head lightly and helping him into his sleeping bag. My friends will be so over me once I tell them about my curious encounter with Lenin Trotsky the cheetah!
Lenin Trotsky was a victim of an animal experimentation. Lenin was a beautiful cheetah who was caught in the wild and shipped to a lab where a group of scientists altered the genetic code of this poor animal to make him as superior as us humans. The experiment was a success not only could Lenin read and write, he could talk in 7 languages which even included Yiddish. Nevertheless, the scientists also gave Lenin the power to feel and think, so what did Lenin think of his predicament? He was horrified but delighted that he could finally express what he could feel and not be subjected as a pet project for humans. Almost comically, his programming was accidentally set to the 19th century instead of the 21st century, hence making him very ‘backward’ in his view. Lenin was let loose and the scientist who was supposed to remove his vocals never showed up.

Animal experimentation has been haunting our world for decades. Innocent creatures are subjected to not only violence but also to theories that only seem fair on paper. From rats to monkeys, animal experimentation has gone too far. The allowance to live was not given to only us humans; it was given to our Mother Nature, our Solar System and the animals who may not be as superior as us.

Live and Let Live. Take a stand and protect the wildlife from extinction, from torture and from the demons in all of us. Until we find our humanity and learn to see beyond ourselves, we shall never prosper but keep taking 10 steps backwards when we were supposed to take 10 steps forward.

~Injustice is anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere~