This is a continuation of the story started a few weeks back by Josephine. She has rewritten the first part and it is posted here. Her blog can also be found on my blog roll under the ‘Greatest Blogs EVER’ section. She writes, “Slummy Single Mummy” (Nods head to the right)
The second part of the story, is here on ExtremelyAverage.com and is under the heading above Camel Musings. This is the 3rd part of the story, and completes Chapter 1. It is all very confusing, but we hope entertaining none the less.
Winston had hoped that his making a camel noise, which is what the patrons at the zoo used to call it when he was talking, would get the woman to open up a bit, to start chatting. Winston was already missing Libby and his long discussions with her. Actually, they weren’t always discussions, but lengthy orations from Libby, followed by agreement and a nod from Winston. She is a very opinionated panther. Still, he missed her company. This one, seemed much less disposed to lengthy banter.
They walked a bit, looking at the devastation all about. A warm sun cast a hopeful glow over the city that was. Winston passed by a picnic table which was seemed strangely unaffected by the chaos. It sat upright, no apparent damage and there was a baseball resting on top of it. “A baseball?” Winston thought, how strange. “Shouldn’t it be a cricket ball? And why didn’t it roll off during the mayhem?”
As he walked, the sight of the picnic table, made him think about the little bench near his pen at the zoo. Mothers would sit, babbling on their phones, while their young children would talk to him. They would say things like, “Hello Mr. Camel.” or if they could read, they might look at the sign and say, “Hello Winston, glad to meet you.” Sometimes they would just shriek with delight and run up to the bars and wave. Winston never fully understood why children seemed so happy to see him, but he always appreciated it. He considered himself quite unremarkable, despite what his mother had always told him.
“This is probably a bit odd,” she began. Winston noticed she seemed to be talking and concerned with a small piece of brick. She batted at it with her foot, then she continued, “but perhaps we should get to know each other, you know, bond or something.”
Winston thought to himself, “This is delightful, she is going to start talking to me. I am all for bonding.” He wasn’t sure what his role in the bonding process was to be, and since they had just met, and she was much smaller than him. He considered it prudent to let her make the first move. He was really hoping she might pat him on the nose. The person who fed him at the zoo, often did that, and he liked it! “Ok Winston, stay very still, she might be coming in for a nose pet. You don’t want to scare her.”
“Maybe I should give you a name.” She said.
Winston thought to himself, “Well I already have a name, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” I am rather fond of Winston, but there are lots of great names. Perhaps Bond, James Bond? Or Evan?” Though a naming wasn’t as good as a nose petting, it did seem like an appropriate first step. Then a terrible thought flashed across his mind, “What if she chooses Rupert? I hate that name! Please don’t choose Rupert.”
The woman looked at him for a long while, she seemed to be putting a lot of thought into it. Winston felt that it was a sign of respect and he was pleased that she was giving his naming the careful consideration, he felt it deserved.
“How about Beatrice?” She said.
Winston was stunned. His mind began to race, “Beatrice!!! I am a male! Oh this is much worse than Rupert. I should indicate my displeasure in some way. But that might frighten her off. I don’t want to be alone again. Oh this is just such a bad start to the bonding process.”
Winston was so shocked by the choice of names, that he didn’t even hear her say, “Raise one hoof if you don’t like Beatrice.”
He did hear her say, “My name’s Amy.” Then she stuck out her hand, though at no point did it pat him on the nose. Winston thought to himself, “This has been a bad day, the world was destroyed, and I have been named Beatrice. If I were to keep score, and I might as well, it would be End of World 2 – Misnamed Camel 0.”
Camels don’t fuss, but he thought that if he were to try out sulking, this might be the perfect time.
Winston froze. He heard a noise. It sounded like someone else was up ahead. He also heard Amy say, “What is it Beatrice? What are you looking at?” Winston didn’t want to say anything, so he just flicked his ears a bit. The woman seemed clever, aside from her deficiencies in camel gender detecting skills, and he hoped she would notice the ears and start to listen too.
Winston thought that Amy seemed to be lost in thought, so he decided to go investigate himself. He kept his eyes on the spot where he heard the noise. It sounded like crying to Winston. Not the normal, ‘I dropped my ice cream’ crying either, but a more pained scared tone.
He heard Amy’s steps running along. “Good, I guess she is clever.” he thought. The sound of the noise was just up ahead. Amy sped past him and he let her. If it was a child, Winston thought she might be able to help more than he could. Though he was certain that any child who saw such a handsome, albeit misnamed camel, would certainly stop crying and be happy again.
Meanwhile across town a Panther named Libby is assessing her situation.