Reptile Dreams
by Tobie Abad

Coke always tastes refreshing when one is sitting beneath the heat of the sun. Veron gulped down a large amount of the soda, set the can on the ground, and pulled out her drawing pad from her bag. Deftly opening it she glanced at the sheet, staring at the work she had done so far. A thin yellow pencil marked the page where she was working. Long scaly shapes of four-legged reptiles were in various poses on the paper. The green color of the reptile�s hue simulated by the cross-hatched strokes of a dull grey pencil. Without a word, she set it on her lap and focused her attentions on her subject again.

The Lizard was there again.

Just as it had been around this time of the afternoon for the past few days. No, it wasn�t a lizard behind the rusty bars of the cage which Veron revisited almost every other day; That was a pair of nearly-bald, smelly monkeys. Mosquitoes would buzz here and there while flies bred and feasted on the festering dump which was the simian�s home. The Lizard, on the other hand, was a frequent visitor that Veron first noticed when she went to the zoo two weeks ago.

Veron had just told her parents that she was a lesbian and unfortunately, as expected, they didn�t take the "coming out" too well. Her mother didn�t burst into tears. She remained the silent martyr, crying inside yet showing a meek acceptance of the events. Her father threw a fit, slammed the door as he left the house and probably went out drinking with friends to drown his memories of the words his daughter had just said.

With her mother in silent agony and her father missing for two days, Veron decided that time was what her parents needed. Time to slowly take in what their daughter had said and understanding the meaning of the words, instead of seeing their daughter everyday and recalling only the preconceptions of the label: Lesbian. The very day her father returned from his three-day four-night long catharsis, Veron wrote a letter explaining herself, packed a few extra clothes, got all her money and the change set aside in her piggy bank and left.

Veron felt a hand touch her shoulder. She let out a light yelp and found a man standing beside her, his shadow shading her from the afternoon sun. He asked if she was okay. She nodded. He made some dull comment about how the weather was and asked if she wanted to join him in the cafeteria nearby for a Coke. She smiled, pointed at her half-empty soda, then thanked him for the concern. She then stood, grabbing her drawing pad, and pencil, and walked toward the cage. Her eyes darted to and fro, searching for her subject.

The Lizard was gone.

When Veron got back to her best friend Maricar�s house, she found herself restless in her friend�s bed. Maricar was busy with the abdominizer she purchased with high hopes to slim down her love handles when Veron walked into the living room and asked for a cigarette. You don�t smoke, Mar reminded her. Veron gave out a sigh then headed back to the room. Mar asked if she wanted to talk or anything and, before Veron could reply, added that Veron�s parents would soon understand and things will be better. Maricar began to blab about lesbianism and how the world fears homosexuality more than it does pollution. Forget the fact that the latter is deadly and the former is simply an identity. Forget that the latter can destroy the world while the former shouldn�t even be an issue. But Veron failed to hear any of these. It wasn�t that she didn�t accept what was happening. Rather, she was too busy flipping through her drawing pad, studying and admiring each image she had drawn of her subject: the long symmetrical images, the glistening scales reflecting the glare of the sun, the meek stature, the proud gait. A shadow suddenly moved at the corner of her eye and upon glancing with a gasp she saw it: a Lizard.

Greens, Yellows and Browns. Veron dreamt of green lizards, yellow eyes and brown naked bodies of the women she once met, dated and made love to. She dreamt of the reptilian voyeurs clinging on the ceiling and watching with their unblinking stares the torrid affairs of humans in lust. She watches as one of them. She made love as one of those being watched. She was watching lovers in heat. She was a lover. She was heat.

She awoke.

The night was quiet except for the buzz of the electric fan as it turned its head towards her to blow her tension and sweat away. She, blue with the light of the night, groped in the near darkness for the light and upon flicking it on, froze.

The Lizard was on the ceiling.

The next morning, Maricar came to Veron with the cordless phone. Her parents, it seemed, had called and were now willing to talk.

"Veron, we�d like you to come home now-"

"Mom, Dad� I�m sorry�"

"No, no, come home now sweetie. It is all right now."

"Oh Ma, at least now you understand-"

"Daddy knows a good doctor we can talk to-"

The phone rammed into the cradle. Maricar yelped in shock. Veron, teary eyed and angry, reached out for her friend. They stood, silent, in a supportive hug. The seconds passed. Maricar tried to speak. Veron sniffed. Mar gulped. Veron let go and walked to the room. Mar watched in silence, then asked if Veron wanted anything. Veron shook her head and closed the door.

By lunch time, Maricar was so much more worried. Veron had not had breakfast and ever since the "talk" with her parents, she had not said a single thing. Dominos was having a special and Mar knew Veron loved their pizza. With a single call, and after a thirty-minute wait, two family-sized square pizzas awaited feasting on.

Maricar called for Veron from the kitchen. No reply came. She walked to the living room, opened the sliding door nearby to allow air to circulate and called again. Still no reply. Mar lit a cigarette, took a quick puff and walked to the door. She knocked weakly at first, concerned that Veron might be sleeping and then a bit louder after asking Veron to wake up. Nothing. Mar found an ashtray, set the cigarette down, then pressed her ear to the door. She knocked loudly this time, so loud that her ears rapped against the door and her knuckles turned red in hue. Silence. She panicked, ran to the cabinet in the kitchen, fumbled for the keys to her room and ran back. She struggled to keep steady as trembling hands struggled to get the key in. The key rattled against the lock, entered and finally Mar heard the door click.

She ran inside to find the room empty. The window was open.

Not even a lizard was in sight.

The Zoo was about to close. The sun had reared its fiery face and begun to close its burning eyes to sleep. The sounds of life in the zoo had begun to quiet, except for the occasional sound of a bird or an insect announcing the presence of another being nearby. A monkey screeched in the growing night.

The bench was empty except for the half-empty soda can at its foot and a yellow pencil on the ground, broken and dull. The monkey screech once more.

Veron stood before the cage her eyes intently searching around the cage of the monkey. Footsteps sounded as one of the zoo attendants came to check the place. The monkey screeched again. The attendant stopped, glanced towards Veron and motioned at her to catch her attention. She looked at him and cussed as she made her way towards him. He informed her that the zoo was closing. She explained to him that she was about to leave but she was still looking for something. He asked what it was and offered to help. She looked around hurriedly and muttered that she lost an earring. He stooped to search the ground while she, not in his line of sight, removed one earring and palmed it in her hand.

She glanced at the cage again, searching for the lizard. With the sun sleeping, it was difficult yet not impossible. Soon enough, she saw what she wanted and called out to the attendant that she found her earring. The attendant smiled and told her she was lucky, explaining that many people tend to lose things and never recover them. She thanked him for his help and left the zoo.

Veron went home that night. She gave Maricar a call and apologised for leaving so suddenly. She thanked Mar for her help and asked why she never wondered how Veron realised she was a lesbian. Mar laughed and told her, "I�m not as dumb as you think. I was just wondering when you were going to tell me."

"You�re not mad or bothered?"

"Bothered, no. Mad. Hmm� Madly in love perhaps," Maricar replied. Veron smiled on her end of the line and asked, "Oh, who�s the lucky guy?"

"She�s too blind to see right now," Maricar said with an amusing note before saying goodbye. The phone went off with a soft click. Veron heard footsteps coming close, then a knock on the door. She recognized the sound of the footfalls: it was her mother.

"Honey can I talk to you?"

"Sure mom," Veron replied. The door opened and Veron found her mother, curlers in her hair and bags heavy beneath her eyes, standing by the doorway. "Can I come in, dear?"

"Sure," Veron answered as she hopped on to her bed. She hugged her pillow and waited. Her mother walked in, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached for Veron�s hair. She tussled it a bit, then took a deep breath, "Your daddy and I are very sorry. You must understand, me and your dad were brought up in a very different environment from yours. Almost like from a different world. And it is still hard if not-"

"Mom," Veron interrupted her, "It�s okay. You�ll understand soon enough." Veron stood from her bed, moved close and kissed her mother on the cheek, "Good night!"

Its around three in the morning. Veron finds herself waking up to the sounds of her parents in an argument. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. They�re at it again, she thinks.

Veron closes her eyes and remembers being at the zoo earlier. She remembers sitting there on the bench, struggling to draw the Lizard as it slowly walked to one corner of the cage, held impossibly upside down by the suction cups of its feet. It was the mosquito that zipped to and fro from within the small translucent jar which was the monkey�s water container, trapped and unable to find the opening (as insects tend to be unable to). Its tail broke as the Lizard crept past the cage bars, getting caught on a wire that was jut out. The Lizard ignored its lost extension and moved on, closer and closer to the jar. It stood motionless, waiting for the Mosquito to come too close to it, then finally, after what seemed to have been a lifetime, the Lizard struck, opening its swift maw and taking the mosquito into its grasp in one fluid motion. The Lizard had fed.

It took the gulp then skittered away, vanishing as if it never was there in the first place. Its patience was remarkable. Its sacrifice well worth the trade. Loss for Life.

Veron turned in her bed, still hearing the argument of her parents. She glanced at the mirror and stuck out her tongue. She rose from her bed, walked towards it, and turned on a nearby lamp.

The light illuminated her face, tracing the curve of her cheeks with a yellow glow. She stared at her reflection, then looked at the table before her. The drawing pad was there. She opened the pad, turning the pages until she found the one she wanted, and traced the drawing of the Lizard; triumphant and sated, without a tail yet a full stomach. Veron looked at her reflection again, her eyes boring deep into her own and ran a finger down her nose, around each cheek and back, slowly tracing the outline of her own face. She closed her eyes, nodded weakly and shut the light, praying the screaming ends soon.