unnamed story (Part 8)
“Just so I’m clear” began Denise “You decided to spend hours setting an elephant loose when within the same amount of time you could have freed dozens, maybe even hundreds, of dogs and cats and goldfish.”
Abby sat next to her in silence.
“I mean, are you counting compassion by the total mass of animals saved or by the number?”
Denise was thinking they could make it to Pittsburgh before she would pull over and get some sleep. Maybe when they woke up everyone would be back.
Abby finally spoke. “Doesn’t it freak you out that at this very moment millions of pets are starting to starve to death? Soon lifetime friends in fish tanks everywhere will start to get hungry enough to eat each other.”
Thinking that perhaps she had been a bit abrasive in her observation Denise offered Abby some jerky.
“I’m a vegan. I will take some water however” she replied.
“I’m sorry if I sounded callous. I just meant it was a bit odd that you would try to save an elephant. I’m not sure an elephant can even survive in Ohio.”
At this point I could give a lengthy description of what happened as Denise pulled up to see Abby driving slowly behind her hefty grey friend and how they ended up in the same car headed east but I think it might be a bit more helpful if I were to create a good way for you to tell them apart given they are on their way to meet another bunch of females with almost identical physical attributes.
Abby is a bad dancer. Although very thin with ample bosoms, seemingly the ideal vessel to take out onto the dance floor, she thrusts her arms out seemingly immune to whatever rhythm the song is attempting to establish. Onlookers fight to force a wallet into her mouth to stop her from biting off her own tongue. Her dancing would look completely at home at Lilith Fair, widely understood to be ground zero for bad dancing.
Denise, on the other hand of an entirely different species, dances in such a way that male viewers immediately speculate what she’s like in bed. She moves equal parts snake charmer and snake. She appears in a white mist whether the establishment employs a fog machine or not.
Abby bad dancer.
Denise good dancer.
The good dancer had convinced the bad to come with her to Philadelphia as they have an even larger zoo there with even larger of selection of large animals that would be difficult to extricate and would probably die as soon as winter hit.
“Let me call my friend Clay and let him know I’m arriving plus one” said Denise. She hit the button on her cell and wondered how much longer phones would be working.
Abby leaned back in her seat and tried to keep her mind occupied. Everywhere she looked there were houses containing animals in the throes of confusion and despair. Her subconscious was asking her how she could just sit there and do nothing … and it chose the voice of Sarah McLachlan.
Denise obviously got through to Clay.
“Her name is Abby. I picked her up in Columbus. She was letting all the animals out of a zoo.”
Clay was speaking.
“I don’t know” Denise continued, “I‘ll ask her.”
She turned to Abby. “What’s your last name?”
“Castleton” she said.
“Her name is Abby Castleton.”
There was a loud burst of what sounded like profanity from the other end of the phone.
Denise turned back to Abby and asked “Do you know a Clay Van Dyke?”