March 29, 2007

Whither Fabio?

Fabio is not here. And not only is he not here, I have a very dark suspicion that he is not anywhere.

It was precisely 9 days ago that the events which follow were put into motion. Without warning, my brother and I were both crated up by the Man and the Woman and loaded into the cargo hold of their stink-belching transport. I braced for the worst — no doubt we were finally being carted off to the mysterious and sinister Bay B, the secret location of the Man's twisted experiments. As it turned out, however, we were actually taken for an audience with the nefarious Dr. Fingerer. And there, indeed, we were fingered, and prodded, poked and squeezed and disrespected. Then once again we were crated and shuttled, and released back into the familiar surroundings of our fortress.

What, exactly, had been done to us? Aside from a few tender areas, I felt more or less normal. I kept a close eye on Fabio, watching for signs of aberrant behavior (aberrant beyond his norm, anyway). It seemed unlikely we had been unwittingly subjected to anything more than an invasive and undignified inspection. After all, at no point in the ordeal had Fabio and I actually been separated. Or had we? Looking back now, I admit that I can't recall with absolute certainty.

Nevertheless, back we were on our own turf, and back we stayed. That is, back I stayed. Over the next few days, Fabio's behavior began to... shift somewhat. They had him back on that slurry-feed of his, but he wasn't touching it, nor was he attempting to pilfer my pellets, nor even those of the Rodent. Four days later, he was re-crated by the Man and hefted out the front door, once again into the shuttle. And that was the last time I saw him.

Perhaps he had been taken away to this Bay B place, but my instincts, somehow, told me otherwise. For one thing, the Man's demeanor began to change — indeed, the atmosphere of the entire fortress became decidedly more somber. Each day, the Man came quietly through the door, smelling of Dr. Fingerer's labs, faint traces of Fabio on his hands. Then I caught the same scent on the Woman. And then even on the Melodious Freckled Lady. Fabio's Doorman returned faithfully to his post, but sat there looking somewhat superfluous, with no master to serve.

It was just this morning, 5 days after Fabio's disappearance, that the Man's beep-talk device went off, and I saw his eyes go hollow as he received transmissions from some distant place. He transmitted his own message, by the tone of his voice I would say it was to the Woman, and then leveled his eyes on me. I had not seen such emptiness in his gaze before, and one thing was immediately clear: wherever he was off to, it had nothing to do with this Bay B of his, and indeed, he did not go willingly. He muttered some words to me, only one of which I recognized: Fabio. And then he was gone.

He was not long gone when the Woman arrived, far ahead of her usual schedule and also looking depleted. She spoke soft words at both me and the Rodent, then waited and watched the door. The Man returned an hour later, carrying an empty crate, and Fabio's collar and badge. He stood with the Woman in kitchen in silence for a long time, then brought me Fabio's collar, which he let me examine. Then he carried me around the house with an unusually firm hold, saying nothing, merely carrying me, room to room, outside and then back in, in silence.

And this time, I let him.

1 Comments:

Blogger Karen said...

Oh! I'm so sorry. Requiescat in pace, Fabio.

5/18/2007 1:43 PM  

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