Teddy Bears

I wake up every morning. I brush my teeth, get dressed, stare blankly at myself in the mirror, and go to work. Then I do everything again the next morning. And the morning after that.

I thought my life would continue on in this comfortable way until the morning I looked out my window1 and saw that the world was really being run by giant teddy bears continuously crawling out of the ocean and eating people.

That shook things up a bit.

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1 “Window” here rhetorically stands in for Sachar Mathias’ tumblr account.

Wilting Wails

The delicately scented trees towering above--

“Have one on me” dripping into my thirsty ears--

My Costco brand sneakers burning up the fitness park trail--

ceased to be important at the sounding of a small incessant wail that left me shaking.

I searched for the epicenter of this low-coming noise. Its found face paralyzed me with a tripping combination of fear and empathy. Here was a once massive beast imprisoned in the thin shell of a leaf. Whatever mage turned this fearsome hulk into something a few inches long left it with the chilling power of wailing.

It sounded like a warning.

I ran away.

Worrisome Fossil

Fossils sometimes appear in unlikely places. Often when this happens in America, instead of slaps on boney wrists, the powers that be give out medals. These naughty bags of bones become known as “State Fossils.” Disregarding the blatant favoritism involved with getting awards (not punishments) for being in unusual places1, let’s look at an example.

The Vermont State Fossil (Delphinapterus leucas, ‘Dauphin’ for short) was found when some 1849y locals dug it up looking for a railroad. They called it “Burt” but were reportedly disappointed by its dull attitude towards life. Upon giving to the government2 it was renamed with much sciencey thought. In 1993 it was given an award for being so whale-like, dead, and Vermonty3.

However many issues I have with fossils and their privileges, I have no bones to pick with their deadness. That is exactly why this recent fossil find of mine is so terrifying.

I have reason to believe that this orange bone is a fossil of some tall and terrifying beast. A beast which roams the streets of Chiang Mai in odious packs. I have yet to see a living form of this monster, but neither have I seen a bodied one in death. They are alive, or they are fossils. I truly am at a loss. Even as I write this I lock my windows and try not to make eye contact with the faces peeping in. 

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1 “Roofs of academic buildings are for keeping rain and snow out of classrooms, NOT for bawdy children to crawl all over.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

2 Probably still the Green Mountain Boys at this time, although I make no claims as to being a historian.

3 “That was the worst acceptance speech I’ve ever heard in my whole goddamn life.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

O-Range Bit

I was sprawled reading on concrete steps when I noticed my toes were being nibbled by a puddle of blossoms at my feet. Closer inspection--the “blossoms” were O-range Bits. Closer still—interspecies war: fire ants versus O-range Bits.

O-range Bits (named thusly for their terrifying and fang-ringed ‘O’ mouths) live in trees until the day they plop down. Once arrayed in a pile upon the ground they roil in a Dionysian frenzy of nectar, biting, and being small[1]. In such a state of active energy they attack anything that gets too close, and bit the hardest at feet and small bugs.  

I got away with only a few of my smaller toes missing, but continued to document the plight of the ants and the desperation of the O-Range Bits from afar.

This photo is from the ranks of the fallen Bits and may be a bit graphic for some audiences.

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[1] Lives which seem simple, but are probably just being over simplified here by me. I found it difficult to study this species closely; language barriers (as well as size differences) prevented both a figurative and a literal foothold in their society. 

Phylacteries

An important step to monster seeking is using proper protection. Many theorists argue whether these precursory steps are fair; the logical foundation of their arguments run similar to the “When-I-Can-Chase-A-Deer-With-No-Shoes-On-And-Kill-It-With-My-Own-Hands-THEN-I’ll-Eat-Meat” argument. Let’s assume for the sake of time that 1) deer do not equal monsters, 2) rifles and camouflage do not equal phylacteries, and 3) deer never wear shoes. 

Monster hunters construct these protective phylacteries1 individually; they are localized in their ingredients, creation, and purposes. Anything from potions to spray bottles have been documented as effective. I created this Leaf Shield from leaves pilfered2 from an arboretum near my apartment in Chiang Mai. It hangs near my minuscule porch where it stops monsters from sneaking in through my lockless screen door.  

The sight of lions or dragons guarding temples around Chiang Mai is a common one. In a frenzy of masking tape one afternoon this green dragon appeared on my wall. Normally fearful of such vicious creatures, I deliberated taking this fierce lady down. Her appearance was marked by such a strange surge of peace I decided she must be an image of my room’s guardian.

These strange creations on Kate’s walls were scoured out by us in much the same way as my dragon. Although her phylactery became very toothy, she remained pleasant. I rest easier at night knowing that we are both protected by these towering flat behemoths.

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1 I would use this word’s cousin ‘talisman’ but shudder at how embedded ‘man’ is. ‘Taliswoman’ has less resonance, and ‘talisperson’ is too anthropomorphic. Greek it is!

2 Unknowingly stolen. They had fallen on the ground and I collected the fresher and more pliable looking ones. Upon leaving the scene I was accosted by a group of Thai workers who mimed written permission and peered into my clutched bag of evidence. I smiled and apologized until they handed me some tamarinds and a blossom and wandered away.