As you are on your way to the beach, you remember when you met Jon. You start tearing up remembering. Not because it’s sad, but because it was when a popular store you were in had been tear gassed. You had taken him by the horns and threw him out of the building, then went back in to grab others. When you came back out, he thanked you, but told you an old saying from “his planet”. He had said, “An eyeful of horns keeps the hoofbeasts away, but a handful of horns keeps me at bay.” You have no idea what it means, but he winked and it didn’t seem like a good thing to remember anymore so you stopped remembering it. You arrived at the beach as you stopped. Great timing, you thought. You took a step into the soft sand, walking toward the water. Every year you had tried to come out here and swim. Every year you have no memory of the events. Luckily, there are no lifeguards or nautical police at night, so it works out. You take another step, getting closer and closer to the water, its waves beckoning you. You reach out. Why would you do that you idiot, the water can’t jump up and touch your hand. You crouch down and reach for the water. As a wave pulls the sand with it, you press your hand into the sand and pull back. The sand left an imprint of your hand, but it stung. You reached into the water, it stung more. You kept your hand in there, feeling like it was being tazed constantly. You pull back and look up. Nobody. You thought you heard an odd rustling noise. You turn back, but you hear it again. This time when you look back, Jon stands there. “Wave,” he says. He leaves it at that. The word bounces around your brain. Wave, wave. Almost like a wave itself, the word going back in forth through your head. Wave, wave, wave. Odd, you can’t shake the feeling like the word has a strange connection to you. You stand up and give Jon a big hug.
“Ummmm, Emil Jepsen, I dx believe yxu have the wrxng guy.”
“what do you mean jon? i have an apology for you”
“I am nxt Jxnath Kyllin, I am Nxriad Lxikin. I have been searching fxr yxu,” he said, “Jxnath Kyllin has, well, he cxmmited suicide just 5 minutes agx. Xn his bxdy we have fxund a yxufie and we have reasxn tx believe yxu had stxlen it from the Great Argyle Musuem xf Exxcellence. May we have yxur saliva sample.”
“um ew no and whos we?” you ask, dumbfounded.
“Give us the sample and we shall reveal whx we truly are.”
You hesitate, but work up the nerve to somehow say, “no saliva, show me you and then maybe saliva” It was nonsense, but it worked. Noriad had removed his trench coat and, just like Jon, there had been a black shirt with a zodiac sign on it. He was wearing suspenders and sweatpants with his shirt tucked in. His shoes were bright green and his hat was yellow. He had face paint on, but his skin was clearly grey. He had obnoxious sunglasses that had LEDs all over them and his hair was super scraggly. He had horns like Jon, but they were a different shape. Jons were round and short, but Noriad’s were long and squiggly and pointy. Noriad’s zodiac sign was a lime green Canus sign. Odd. Then three strange figures stepped over.
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