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In the fields outside the city gates, soft moonlight reflected on the surface of the rambling Portia river. Llamas hummed and grass rustled against cotton wool. A chorus of insects sang them a lullaby as a little one's fleeced legs stretched until they shook; its neck was strewn across its mother, whose ears twitched in response. They had no heavy responsibilities, no worries of what the future would bring; all they knew at this moment was peace and comfort. The lanky youngster withdrew its outstretched legs and neck into a tight ball, now nuzzling its face deep into the warm, insulated comfort of its mother’s back.
Arlo, longing for that warmth, cupped his cheek with his hand; the sensation of chilled fingers and a rough beard snapped him out of his wistful daydream. He took a deep, sobering breath of crisp Autumn air and sighed. Back to work I guess .
The circle of light from his lantern illuminated yet another set of fish bones. Perhaps these held some secret that the many others along the coast of the Portia River didn’t. He stooped over with a huff, bracing his hand on his knee to take a closer look. Muddy tracks criss crossed the area - none of them clear or significant or unusual in any way. Useless .
“Wow, examining a dead fish in the dark, you must be making all kinds of headway, Boss.”
With a jolt, Arlo faced the unexpected voice.
"Seriously? You didn't even notice the horse? You've been up for two days, go to bed! It’s like, five AM." The slender blonde woman dismounted her horse, Teddy, and folded her arms across her chest.
Arlo cleared his throat and corrected his posture, "Sam, I'd love to, but I can't rest while we have this laundry list of things to do. We’ve been getting all this new territory, and new responsibilities, and no new resources or manpower whatsoever. Plus, I’m worried that whatever is eating all of these fish will-"
"Puh-lease, I'll take care of it once the sun is up, like a reasonable person. It's probably just Papa Bear prepping for winter. Don’t worry your silly red head over it."
"A single bear couldn't possibly be responsible for all this."
With a shrug of her shoulders, Sam said, "Guess we'll find out."
"And what about-?"
She held her hand up. "I need you to trust me and Remington to help you."
"I… I do trust both of you - with my life. It's just there's so much that isn’t getting done, and-"
Sam interrupted Arlo with a sharp fist to his arm. "I'm serious. Go straight to bed. Now. Do not stop along the way for anything unless someone is dying or something's on fire." She looked him up and down and curled her lips. "Well, maybe you should take a bath first..."
"The cheek. Sometimes I forget I’m supposed to be your boss," said Arlo.
Sam rolled her eyes, spun him around, and slapped him on the rear like a horse. "Go on! Get!"
"Hey… You wanna be the captain? You sure like to pretend you are. Bet you’d be good at it,” said Arlo with a tired smile.
"Hell no, you wish! Go to bed!"
Arlo clicked his tongue. "Ah, damn. Well, goodnight- er, morning, I guess. And uh," he ran his muddy fingers through messy locks of hair, “thanks.”
Teddy nudged Arlo in the back with his nose. “See? He gets it. Why are you still here? Shoo, shoo,” said Sam.
“Wh-? I’m just…”
With a bunch of incomprehensible noises, Sam overrode Arlo as she led Teddy away to walk in the opposite direction.
Peach, what a brat. She may be the youngest member of the Corps, but she’s certainly the bossiest.
As though a spell had been broken by the newfound quiet and the realization of how long it’d been since he slept, Arlo’s limbs melted into jelly. The soft hum of a llama in the distance made him smile as he imagined how wonderful a bed of their soft fleece might feel under his tired, aching bones. Ah, but my nice warm bed will do just fine I guess. Using his new goal as motivation, he urged his liquified legs to move. As he rounded the corner toward the Eastern gate, however, he noticed a lantern light near Bassanio Falls. Within that light stood a fisherman and his tackle.
“Ah, fuck me…” Arlo said under his breath, tilting his head back to look up at the stars as if pleading some unseen force for mercy. He’s not dying; he’s not on fire. Maybe I can just leave it be…
The waterfall roared louder and louder as Arlo approached. “Tody…” he said in a monotone, gravelly voice - just loud enough to be heard over the noise.
“You!” said Tody. “What the hell has the Civil Corps been doing? How much longer do I have to put up with this?! There’s dead fish all over and I can’t get anything to bite to save my life!”
“Tody…” Arlo held his lantern up to a bright red sign with bold letters that said, “Danger! Keep away from the river bank!”
Tody’s auburn mustache twitched almost as much as his bulging brown eyes. “Yes, I can read. You haven’t answered my question!”
Arlo’s face melted into his hand as he propped himself against the sign. “Tody… Please.”
“Do you know how this affects my livelihood?!”
“You know what else affects your livelihood? Death. Dismemberment. It’s not safe. Fish somewhere else. I hear Starlight Island is lovely in September.”
“The ferry doesn’t start until seven!”
Arlo dismissed him with a shrug. Tody growled and swept up his things with excessive force. Fishing tackle flew. With a curse, he awkwardly gathered his equipment up in his arms. Arlo rolled his tired eyes before helping Tody gather his things more neatly. Tody stomped off and Arlo gave a lazy salute to his back.
“You’re welcome,” said Arlo.
Tody muttered, “What else does a guy have to burn down around here to get people to give a shit?!”
“I heard that.” Arlo shook his head. I swear I will not hesitate to put you in jail again you angry little arsonist. He pressed his cold palms into his eyes. “I love my job.”
Outside the East Gate was another group of llamas, all huddled together in one comfortable looking mass. Arlo was tempted to join them. The image of them skittering away, leaving him to flop onto the cold ground made him laugh. Ah well, A man can dream. His eyes were starting to blur. Dreaming of llamas, how professional.
Reality intruded again as he found himself at the base of the large stairway leading up to the Civil Corps HQ. Ah, fuck me running. Who thought it was a good idea to put our emergency services at the highest, most difficult to reach point in town? He put his hands on his knees. Come on, you run several miles a day, you’ve gone up and down these stairs countless times. So what if you’re a little tired, you can do this. All that’s between you and your bed is a few steps. With a deep breath, he raced up the stairs, determined to win against his flagging motivation.
As he nearly crested the first flight, he slipped and found himself staring up at the sky. With a desperate grab he managed to catch the railing. His lantern flew with a crash and a tinkling of glass.
Oh, fuck me running sideways. Let’s wake the whole town while we’re at it. After crawling up the last few steps to the top of the landing, he squinted in the dim light to see what was so determined to get between him and his bed. That’s… That’s literal horseshit. He made a mental note to give Sam and Remington a dressing down about cleaning up after their mounts. Poor thing’s so constipated that it looks more like llama shit.
While scraping the bottom of his shoe, he groaned as he realized someone else could slip and break their neck; and the kids liked to play barefoot so he couldn’t leave the broken glass; and he knew how serious a fire could get if the gas from the lantern were to catch. No one’s dead and nothing is on fire yet, but I’d rather not wait. His forehead hit the railing with a thud. Okay, the faster I get up the rest of these stairs, the faster I can come back. Then I can get to bed. No big deal. Just gotta push a little bit more.
Lying down to take a nap right then and there on the cold cobblestones seemed so much more appealing than making the daunting trip up the rest of the stairs, back down, then back up again. Not a chance. Who in their right mind would trust a Civil Corps Captain that fell asleep in the middle of town? The townsfolk would think he’d been drinking too much - or worse, that he was incompetent. He dusted himself off and moved up the stairs at a much slower pace. His legs felt heavier with each step and his head swam in a sea of exhaustion.
The oppressive fatigue eased at the sight of the brightly lit red doors of the Civil Corps HQ. His horse whinnied as Arlo got closer. Like a father seeing his child for the first time in ages, he quickened his pace toward the stable.
“Spacer, my sweet boy! How are you, huh?” The warm velvet of Spacer’s muzzle tickled Arlo’s face. “Has no one fed you recently? Your trough is almost empty. That won’t do-”
A crashing noise came from inside the HQ. “Oh Goddammit, not again…” said Arlo. Flashbacks of the panbat incident from a few months ago rushed through his head. Fuck me running sideways with a rusty crowbar. “You hang tight Spacer, Papa will be back soon.”
With a deep breath he placed a hand on the door and opened it with a slow push. Inside, the sparkling almond shaped eyes of an adolescent llama greeted him along with the sound of commissions being munched. Arlo slammed the door shut. “Oh, absolutely not…”
This isn’t real. I’ve fucking lost it. Arlo leaned against the wall and ran his hands down his face. Perhaps it was a sleep deprived hallucination, he decided to crack the door and sneak a peek again. A cottony muzzle poked through the opening and licked Arlo’s hand. He screamed and slammed the door closed again. A squeal was followed by the sound of glass bottles and heavy clutter crashing to the floor.
No. Oh no. Peach, why did I do that? “Hey little guy, sorry I scared you.” The llama’s almond eyes were wide and its banana shaped ears laid flat against its head. Its legs danced with more and more anxiety as Arlo got closer. “Now, hang on a minute, we don’t need to panic-”
Furniture flew as the young llama barreled away; its awkward legs splayed out on the wood floor with a clattering sound as it dashed up a set of stairs to a storage area. A shower of glass bottles and boxes fell from above. Arlo watched with defeat, crouching down to the floor with his head in his hands.
“All I wanted was to crawl into bed. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more badly in my entire life. I would give… anything… Even if it meant never getting into the Flying Pigs… to be able to rest my head on a nice, soft, comfortable pillow for just a moment.” He sat with his hands over his eyes for a while before looking up and asking, “Why are you doing this to me?”
The llama looked over the railing with a squeaky hum and tilted its head.
“...You’re lucky you’re cute.”
The llama tilted its head the other direction.
“I don’t suppose you’ll agree to come down by yourself?”
The llama rested its head on the railing, “hm.”
“Yeah… Okay… That’s fair.” Arlo stood, feeling the ache of defeat in his joints. “Can I at least come up there to get you - without all the drama this time maybe?”
The llama was struggling to keep its eyes open, “hm.”
“You’re tired too, huh little one?” He searched the room for anything that would help. What the hell? Is that Spacer’s hay? He shook his head. Not the weirdest thing to happen today, not going there . He grabbed a handful.
Arlo advanced slowly, one step at a time up the stairs. “Y’know, I saw your family out there. Bet you’d like to see them. Let’s get you back, huh?” The llama moved into the corner, unsure. “Shh, sh, it’s okay.”
At the top of the landing, Arlo reached out a hand with his fingers curled under. With a little hesitation, the llama stretched its neck to give him a sniff. “That’s it, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Warm gusts of breath hit Arlo’s skin as the llama moved up toward his face and licked him aggressively. Arlo squeezed his eyes shut and spoke through closed lips, “Mm… Damk you.” With a gentle push, he guided the llama’s face away from his own. “Cute, but also gross. Does this mean we’re friends now?”
“Hmmmmm.”
“Here, maybe this will convince you to come down. You hungry?” Arlo offered up the handful of hay and the llama followed as he moved toward the stairs.
As Arlo started to descend, the llama protested with a loud, “mwah!”
“Come on, really? You got up here all by yourself, surely you can-”
“Eh!”
“Sheesh. Everyone has such an attitude today.” Arlo tossed the hay aside and rested his hand on the llama’s head. “I guess I’m going to deadlift a llama, then. Why the hell not?” Lips flapped against Arlo’s ear as he muttered to himself.
“Hold still for me buddy.”
The llama cocked its head, “Hmm?”
Arlo placed his arms under the llama’s chest and haunches and scooped it up.
“MWAH!” the llama screamed.
Arlo’s muscles shook and he struggled to hold on as the llama flailed its legs and neck. “Okay, okay, it’s okay,” said Arlo in a strained voice. He hung on for dear life until the llama started to calm down. Soon Arlo’s hair was fluttering in the llama’s breath as it sniffed his head. “Are we okay now? Oh gosh, you may be a youngster but you are quite…” he readjusted the llama in his arms, “healthy. You probably weigh about as much as I do.” Each step down the stairs sent waves of anxiety through Arlo’s stomach. His legs felt as though they’d melt into a puddle at any moment. When he reached the floor he used the last of his strength to safely lower the llama down. In between heaving breaths he said, “There we go… We made it… All in a day’s work…”
The young llama fluttered its lips on Arlo’s cheek and gave a happy hum.
“I’m surprised and disappointed that this is my first ever thank-you kiss, but… you’re welcome.” Arlo returned the kiss on the llama’s muzzle. He took in a deep breath, “Now… How are we going to get you back out of town?” He tapped his foot on the floor, “I know, we’ll use Spacer’s lead. Oh, and I’ll grab what I need to clean up the stairs while I’m at it. You hang tight, and-”
A sense of dejavu overwhelmed Arlo as he once again lost contact with the ground and was looking upward. The object of his demise clinked as it rolled across the floor. Why do we have so many fucking bottles?! The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and the electricity out of his brain. When he opened his eyes he saw nothing but snorting llama nostrils. He groaned, flexed his arms, and wiggled his toes; everything seemed to be working as it should. With the last remaining scrap of motivation he had to get up, he propped himself on an elbow. “Give me… Give me just a second, buddy. I’ll get you back to your mum.”
The llama pushed him back onto the floor with its neck, then pinned Arlo with its weight, “Mwah.” It licked his face a few times and blew its lips on his ear and forehead.
“Oof, yes, okay, that’s very cute, but I need to get up.” Arlo shoved the llama’s side but it wouldn’t budge. It laid its head down and tucked Arlo’s head into the crook of its neck.
“No, seriously, I need to get up.” The llama wrapped its head around to lie on Arlo’s shoulder. “Why is everyone so damn stubborn today?!” He blinked up at the now spinning ceiling and his eyelids started to get heavy. With a whine, he leaned his head into the llama’s soft shoulder and took a deep inhale. “I really have fucking lost it.”
A clock ticked in the background, growing more and more quiet and distorted. In his ear, Arlo heard a deep booming voice say, “You sure have.”
His eyes shot open to see that he was falling through the sky. He reached out his arms desperate to find purchase, but found none. His insides rearranged themselves as he waited for the inevitable. Instead of hitting the ground, his abrupt stop was surprisingly gentle and warm; but it was also suffocating. Arlo dug his way out of a pile of fluff to find himself within a massive heap of llamas.
“Hey, do you mind?!”
“Yeah, we’re tryin’ to sleep here!”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” Arlo climbed out of the fleecy pile as several llamas griped at him.
“Ah, good, you made it!”
Arlo jumped when he heard the deep, booming voice of the young llama in his ear again. “Why do you sound like a grown man? Wait, no. Sorry, but I’ve got to go. There’s so much to do, and… Oh no, that’s right, Sam is going to kill me if she finds out I’m back out here instead of in bed - none of you are dying or on fire, what am I doing here?!” said Arlo, muttering and pacing in circles.
“Bed? If I were you, I’d be more worried about getting to school. You’re already late!” said the llama.
“School? But it’s still dark.” Arlo had to shield his eyes from the sudden afternoon sun. “Oh shit.” He sprinted to the schoolhouse, practically falling through the doors. “I’m so sorry I’m late, it won’t happen again!” Arlo was met with the staring eyes of Miss Lucy and all of the town’s children. “Wait a minute, you’re not my teacher.” The children all screamed and cried, and Miss Lucy covered her eyes and yelled for help. “What’s wrong?!” He looked down to see that he was in nothing but his boxers. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I-” His legs fled on their own before he could finish his apology.
The llama was waiting outside. “We’ve gotta go - Now! Hop on!”
“Wh-? You’re too small, I’ll crush you!” said Arlo
“Now!”
Arlo hopped on. The llama struggled to run for a moment, but found momentum. Portia seemed so much bigger than Arlo remembered. They ran and ran. Darkness flooded the sky as the sun dropped below the horizon, leaving Arlo and his llama friend struggling to find their way. An orange glow pierced through the darkness. Arlo looked back to see the entire town chasing him and wielding torches. Within the overlapping din, he could make out some of the shouts:
“How dare you expose yourself to my innocent son!”
“What kind of a man runs away from his problems on the back of a llama?!”
“You don’t know how to cook anything but pasta! How could you possibly protect us?!”
The gate kept getting further and further away as he pushed the llama to run as fast as its lanky legs would carry them. Out of an alleyway he’d never seen before, Sam was waving a flare.
“Over here!” Sam shouted. She closed a heavy double door behind them. “I thought I told you to go to bed. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just listened to me in the first place.”
“Sam, Sam I tried so hard. I really did. But Tody yelled at me, and there was shit on the stairs, and there was a llama in the building, and I showed up to school late and naked, and-”
“Arlo?” the booming voice said in his ear.
Arlo opened his eyes to see that he was once again standing next to the sleeping pack of llamas outside the gates of Portia. He was wearing his most comfortable sweatpants and T-shirt. Soft moonlight reflected on the surface of the rambling Portia river. Llamas hummed and grass rustled against cotton wool.
The young llama nuzzled his face. “You were having a nightmare, go back to bed.” It motioned to an enormous, stately white llama with kind eyes.
“Come to me and rest Arlo. You’ve worked so hard and done so well, but now you deserve some peace and quiet,” said the white llama.
Arlo was swallowed up by soft and luxurious fleece that smelled of gala apples. A chorus of insects sang him a lullaby as he relaxed into the rise and fall of slow, heaving breaths. He sank deeper and deeper into this carefree world where his only ambition was to bask in comfort. In… Out… In… Out… He felt as though nothing could possibly bother him here in this cushion of warmth that defied time and space.
“Oliver!”
The llama disappeared from underneath him and his head made a resounding thud on the hard floor of the Civil Corps HQ. Arlo groaned and peeled his eyes open to see that someone had entered the doors. He stood as quickly as his aching joints would allow, but was surprised to find himself tangled in a blanket. Where the hell did this come from?
“Ah, I’m so sorry, I’ll be right with you!” said Arlo.
The llama made happy squeaking hums and nuzzled a young man in a bearskin cloak, who happily returned the affection.
“Oaks? Why are you-?”
Oaks laughed as the llama attempted to stick its tongue in his ear. “Sorry, don’t mind me, I just came to pick up Oliver!”
Arlo blinked so fast he thought his eyes would catch fire. “Oliv-?”
“Hey, why were you sleeping on the floor? The sun is high in the sky, friend! You’re missing out on a perfectly good afternoon in the sun!”
“...Oliver?”
“Yeah! He’s my best friend! Well, after Papa Bear of course.”
Arlo hobbled over to his desk and collapsed into the chair, letting out a mix between a whine and a sigh. “Oaks… Did you put a llama in my building?”
“Well, yeah…” Oaks said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Arlo paused to allow him to elaborate, but an explanation never came. “...Why?...”
“Because there’s a monster and I wanted to keep Oliver safe, so I thought, ‘what’s the safest place in Portia?’ and then I thought, well duh, the Civil Corps,” said Oaks.
Agitation gave way to a spreading warmth in his chest. “Well, I’m- I’m flattered that you know we would keep Oliver safe, but you can’t bring anymore wild animals in here without asking,” said Arlo. Oliver trotted over and munched on his red hair.
“Why? I left him plenty of food.”
“Oaks, wild animals don’t belong in buildings. Just please, don’t do it again.”
“Oh… Sorry,” said Oaks. His voice got softer, “Guess I should apologize about the Panbat too then.”
“The Pan-?!” Peach, just leave it, I’m too exhausted to even consider going down this road. “You know what? It’s fine. You know better now. And I know you’re concerned about Oliver, but this so-called ‘monster’ only eats fish.” Arlo grimaced at his hypocrisy. “A lot of fish.”
Oaks laughed and said, “Oh, that? That’s not a monster at all. That’s me and Papa Bear.”
“Explain… Now…”
“Well, Huss and Tuss threw that great party that everyone was talking about, and well… Papa Bear and I wanted to do the same, so we caught a bunch of fish for the whole town.”
Arlo rested his head in his hands. “If they were for everyone else to eat, why were the carcasses on the ground ?”
“Well, fishing works up quite an appetite, and… Well I think he forgot why we were fishing in the first place. Ha ha, silly ol’ Papa Bear!”
“Oaks, no more fishing. Not for more than what you and Papa Bear need for yourselves. And you are fully responsible for cleaning up the mess you two have made along the beach and the riverbank. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” said Oaks.
“Good. Now, take Oliver back to his family. I’m sure they miss him.”
Oaks beamed up at him and said, “You’re coming to our party, right?”
“Pardon?”
“The party! It’s at noon tomorrow.”
“Oh… Right. Well. We’ll have to see. We’ve been quite busy lately.” Oaks’ smile turned to a pout, and Oliver seemed to be pouting too. Peach, I really am easy to convince. “I’ll do my best to swing by, but only for a little while. Alright?”
Oaks’ face lit up again. “Great! We’ll see you there!” He bounded for the door and Oliver followed.
“Oh wait a minute, Oaks?”
The boy stopped in his tracks.
“Oliver made a mess on the stairs, clean it up,” said Arlo.
“Oh, already did! Can’t let any of that go to waste y’know?
“Huh? Why do you need llama poop?”
Oaks opened his mouth to speak.
“No, sorry, don’t answer that. I changed my mind, I don’t want to know,” said Arlo.
“Oh, okay. I picked up some really neat broken glass on the stairs that I wanted to use for my crafts, too! Can I keep it?!”
“Yes, but Oaks, please don’t handle broken glass with your bare hands.”
Oaks looked at the bear paw mittens on his hands. “Why not?”
“Because… No, bare -'' Arlo sighed. “Nevermind. As long as you’re wearing mittens, it’s fine.”
“Okay!” Oaks turned to Oliver and waved his finger in his face. “You know that’s not where llamas are supposed to poop, Oliver.”
Oliver let out an agitated “mwah” in response.
Remington nearly bumped into the boy and the llama as they exited. “What in the hell?” The tall man with green hair looked at Arlo and Arlo threw his hands up in the air. “What-?”
Arlo gestured at the room.
Remington gasped. “Did Oaks…?”
Arlo nodded.
“Naw, he left a lla-… D’you think the Panbat…?”
Arlo nodded again.
“Well, shit. Guess he must have slipped it in here after I left last night. You okay? You look like a damn mess.”
“I’m tired and aching, but I’m okay. Oliver forced me to take a good long nap with him so at least I got some sleep, even if it was on a hard floor.”
“Who the hell is Oliver?”
“Llama.”
“Uh… Okay. I have follow-up questions.”
Arlo stood and stretched. “Would love to sit and tell you all about it, but there’s too much to do. I’ve gotta get this place cleaned up, gotta take care of Spacer, I’ve gotta figure out which commissions the llama ate;” Arlo scoffed, “and speaking of, we need to catch up on those, we’re way behind.”
“Whoa. Nuh-uh. Sam gave me strict orders: You’re gonna rest today. You go on ahead and take a bath, and I will take care of everything else. Full offense, but have you seen- or even smelled yourself lately? You worry about you today, I got this.”
Arlo lifted his arm, took a sniff, and recoiled. “Hm…”
The look on Remington’s face screamed, “I told you so.”
“Oh, fine… I guess you’re right. Thanks, Remi.”
“Anytime, man.”
The next afternoon, Arlo patrolled through the unusually empty Central Plaza and spotted Mei, or rather Mei’s comically large hat, posting an article on the Portia Times notice board.
“Good afternoon.”
Mei turned around with a yelp. “O-Oh. Good afternoon, Arlo!”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Everything alright?” Arlo asked.
“Just peachy! Lovely Autumn weather today, huh? Well… Gottagobye!” She dashed inside the Portia Times and slammed the door.
I swear, that girl is always so wound up. She needs to learn to slow down and relax a little. Arlo cringed. Like me, I am definitely an expert.
Oh no. He was instantly familiar with the picture in the new article. It was of him and Oliver from the previous morning, and the photograph was credited to the builder. Oh, of course they’d leave me on the floor. Little shit probably thought that blanket was real helpful.
Civil Corp Captain Caught Cuddling Lovable Llama by Mei
Everyone familiar with our beloved Civil Corps Captain knows that he’s a bit of a softie. There’s so much we could say, but Petra taught me an interesting adage from the Old World: A picture speaks louder than words. Friends, this photograph by a local builder speaks volumes. Still, we took to the streets to see what our locals had to say.
“That’s the manliest thing I’ve ever seen,” said one native shop owner.
“Are you [redacted] kidding me?! This is what my tax dollars are paying for?!” said one disgruntled fisherman.
“At least someone figured out how to get the dumb [redacted] to rest,” said a fellow Civil Corps officer.
“Hmph, I guess it’s kind of sweet, in the objective sense,” said an infamously aloof builder.
“Aw aw aw aw,” said a particularly bear-like Portian.
It seems most of our residents give their blessing. I, for one, agree. Our Civil Corps works night and day, through snow and storm. They’re at the scene of every crisis. If they want to spend their free time cuddling cute critters, who are we to judge?
Arlo’s mouth hung open and his cheeks flushed. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“This is what happened to all the fish?! Are you kidding me?!” A nearby shout rang through the air.
Arlo, grateful for the distraction, sped toward the noise outside the East gate and noticed a large congregation of townspeople outside Oaks and Papa Bear’s home. Oh right, the party. He could smell the reason for Tody’s outburst before he got close enough to see it - hundreds of rotting fish lie on the ground, filling the air with the scent of decay.
“Alright everyone, let’s pack it up,” said Arlo.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Tody said as he left.
Oaks and Papa Bear hung their heads. “Hey, maybe some other day. You can plan an even better party next time, I’m sure of it,” said Arlo.
McDonald piped up, “Actually, y’know… I’ve got plenty of meat that needs to be grilled up soon!”
“Oh, and I’ve got plenty of fresh vegetables!” said Emily.
“Ooh! Mom! Can me n’ Jack pick some apples?!” Toby asked Martha.
“Okay, but be careful, sweetie! Oh, we could make apple pies!” said Martha.
Nora gasped and said, “I could go get some music!”
“I’ll go get what we need to get this party started,” said Django.
Oaks lifted his head and his eyes lit up. “Thank you everyone!”
As the townsfolk scattered off to prepare for the party, Oaks ran over to Arlo with a big, goofy grin. “Arlo! You made it!”
“Of course, wouldn’t miss it.” Arlo pressed a hand to the top of Oaks’ head. “Come on, let’s get this cleaned up before the others come back.” Once all the dead fish had been dealt with, Arlo said his goodbyes and started to leave.
“But… The party hasn’t started yet,” said Oaks.
“Sorry. I’ll swing by again later if I can, okay?”
“Okay…” Oaks hung his head once again.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be great, I know it.” Arlo did his best to ignore the sensation of his insides tying themselves into a guilty knot and set out to do his usual patrol through town.
Sam rode up with Teddy and dismounted, “Hey! Just the man I’ve been looking for! It, uh… It’s not much, but Remington and I wanted you to have this.” She produced a large envelope that said, “Happy Birthday, Arlo!”
“Huh? It’s not my birth-” Oh shit, it is my Birthday .
Inside the envelope was a card signed by everyone in Portia, even Tody. Arlo was overwhelmed by the outpouring of thanks and well wishes. Even Toby did his best with a drawing of a sword and an, “Im guna B strongr then U.” Ah, guess this is a pretty sweet job, all things considered. His eyes started to feel a bit wet.
“Aw. Hey, I know.” Sam squeezed him, pulled away and slapped him on the arm. “Now stop it. You’re gonna make me cry, and we can’t have that.”
Arlo chuckled. “Yeah, that’d be embarrassing.”
As the sun started to set, Arlo kept his promise and made his way back to see if the party was still going. When he exited the gate, Oliver approached with a friendly hum, his mother not far behind.
“Oh hey little guy, you remember me?” Arlo groaned as Oliver tried to stick his tongue in any opening he could find. “Mmmf… Hey, none of that.” Arlo pushed him away from his face, and Oliver rested his head on Arlo’s shoulder instead. “That’s better. Y’know, that’s technically assault, but I’ll let it slide this time on account of you being a llama,” Arlo dodged another lick to the face, “and a baby.”
The air was filled with music, happy chatter, and the smell of Gala apples and delicious food. He watched the party from afar with an arm around Oliver. Maybe Sam was right. While I was busy worrying, no one’s died, nothing’s caught on fire, everyone is happy and having a great time. Maybe I do need to relax. As though exhaling a heavy burden, he sighed and his chest felt lighter than it had in months.
Oaks spotted the two of them and ran up. “You’re back! Come on! Hurry up before everyone leaves!”
“Well, I guess I am a bit hungry,” said Arlo.
Apparently someone brought alcohol as several drunken townsfolk either told him they loved him, ranted about something unintelligible, or both. As Arlo sat to eat, Sonia melted her head into his arm.
“Y’know, you got, like, a real stick up yer ass, but… yer pretty okay ackshually, and like…” she started sobbing, “you deserve, like, all the good things… I forget the rest of what I wanted to say, but like…”
Arlo hesitated before giving her a pat on the back. “Um… Thank you.”
Sonia stopped crying immediately. “Oh hang on, I like, need to go to the bathroom or something. Where am I? Oh yeah, Happy Birthday and stuff.”
She stumbled away and Arlo took this as his cue to head back home himself. He figured he could keep an eye on Sonia and make sure she got back to her apartment alright while he was at it. He watched from a distance, fighting back the desire to help. There were a few close calls involving a tree and a loose cobblestone, but she made it - without his interference. They grow up so fast. Maybe I should give people more credit, they don’t need me to baby them. A bittersweet mix of relief and an ache in his chest made his breath hitch, but each step he made as he climbed the stairs to HQ was unburdened.
A large box with a red ribbon sat outside Arlo’s bedroom door. Inside was a stuffed llama and a letter:
“Dear Arlo,
I hope you had a wonderful Birthday with many more to come. I also hope you always sleep as soundly as the morning I found you with Oliver. Hopefully my gift helps. It probably smells a lot better.
Sincerely, your favorite Builder”
Arlo smiled and shook his head. You sweet, annoying little shit.
Someone’s gaze burned into the back of his head. He turned around to see a pair of green eyes peeking through the doors. "Sam? Is that you?" The eyes didn't blink. “Sam, you’re scaring me.” No response. Arlo grabbed his gift and retreated to his room. "I-I'm going to bed now." Sam nodded once and slowly closed the door without breaking eye contact.
Arlo let out the breath he'd been holding. What the fuck? It's only 8pm. He sat on his bed and dropped the box down onto the floor. A glass, almond shaped eye glinted in the light as the lid fell. He couldn’t help but admire the handiwork of the builder; the way they managed to capture the all too familiar look of naive mischief was surreal. Then again, mischief was well within their realm of expertise.
Arlo ran his fingers along the stitching of the stuffed animal and noticed that the builder used real llama fleece. The soft texture tickled his face and smelled of Gala apples, making him feel almost giddy. He jumped out of bed, ensured his door was closed, and turned off the light. He held his new friend tight as he climbed under the covers. I guess I could spare a few words of thanks. It fit perfectly in his arms, and tucked comfortably under his chin. His muscles relaxed all at once and he collapsed into sleep; the sound of the rambling Portia river and the chorus of insects permeated his sweet llama dreams.