A. E. S. O. P.
Sarah Felsted
Issue 58, Autumn 2019
“Come to order! Come to Order! We’re not just killing time here. There are writers to help and we have one new member, so we need to jump right in with introductions. Welcome this evening to our monthly meeting of Authors Emotional Support offered by Pets. The “by” is silent.”
A brown standard-sized poodle stood while the rest of the animals situated themselves in a ring. Night in Maine was turning cool, almost cold, with the almost full moon casting light down from the heavens. The poodle cleared his throat and began again, demanding the attention of the small group.
“I am Mr. Darcy. I started AESOP ten years ago and act as president, as well as publicist of our small group. My genre is Regency Romance, with the occasional mystery romance.” He turned to a toad to his left.
The toad, nodded and looked around the gathered circle of animals. “Neville is my name, unfortunately. Harry Potter phase and such. Anyway, Young Adult Fantasy.” Neville glanced at a wise-looking cat with tail whipping around. Her large green eyes were warm and inviting. Her voice was velvety like her black fur.
“I am Maya. Poetry. The light in me sees the light in each of you. Don’t let my sassiness upset you.” The cat, seemingly satisfied with the introduction, looked back to the proud poodle.
A Capuchin monkey ran over to Mr. Darcy and began working his tiny hands through the dog’s fur, fluffing his shiny brown coat. Continuing his focused grooming, he introduced himself next. With a tip of his small hat, he spoke.
“I am George. Children’s literature.”
Neville croaked back a laugh. The others glared at him until he quieted.
Mr. Darcy signaled to a white and orange ball python to go next. The python pulled up his head to the level of the other animals and looked around.
“I am Kaa. Sssspeculative Fiction,” the snake said slowly and deliberately. “The occasional short ssstory or article on sssnake life.”
“Welcome, Kaa!” the animals loudly greeted their new member.
Finally, the last introduction was a small horse named Mr. Ed. The equine author very dryly said, “Humor and Satire.”
“I need a motion to add this new member to AESOP,” said Mr. Darcy, appealing to the group.
“Wait, I would also like to join,” said a small voice that appeared to come from nowhere. Mr. Darcy ignored the voice, and asked again for a motion.
A grasshopper jumped up from the ground and onto Mr. Darcy’s brown nose.
“I said that I wish to join,” the grasshopper repeated earnestly. “My name is Dennis Hopper and I am a pet.”
Everyone groaned. Neville croaked, “Not you again! Grasshoppers are not pets. No exceptions.”
Undeterred, the grasshopper pleaded, “But AESOP is for animals who support published authors. Insects are animals. And my books are published. They are quite well known, not to toot my own horn. Stephen K…”
Mr. Darcy interrupted the insect with disdain. “Any ant or cricket could claim to work with published authors. AESOP would be over-run with the entire animal kingdom claiming they give support to writers. Very simply, we do not believe you are a pet. And certainly not to a world- famous author.”
Mr. Darcy looked to the horse for support. “Mr. Ed, do you believe this grasshopper is a pet, yay or nay?”
They all looked to Mr. Ed. He pursed his horse lips and furrowed his brow.
“Neigh,” said Mr. Ed.
The grasshopper shook his legs angrily.
“Insects can be pets! This is prejudice!” he yelled at Mr. Darcy as he hopped back down to the ground. Neville stuck out his long tongue at him. Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes and continued.
“Now that introductions have been made, I wish to officially add Kaa to our group. All in favor say ‘yay’.”
A chorus of yays was followed by silence as they all looked at Mr. Ed. He furrowed his brow once again.
“Yay,” said Mr. Ed. All the animals sighed in relief.
“Thank you, kindly. AESOP has a new addition. Let us all focus now on the craft.” Mr. Darcy attempted to distract the monkey who was grooming him.
“George, how goes the world of children’s literature?”
George exhaled. “It is exhausting. I am so sick of pretending that everything is new and fascinating. I just want to sit and read a good book or groom the neighbor’s cat. Curiosity is killing the monkey.”
“I believe the phrase is ‘care killed the cat’,” whispered Dennis Hopper from below the grass. Maya sharpened her green eyes and glared at the insect.
“No one asked you for help,” said Mr. Darcy.
George started picking through Mr. Darcy’s hair, searching for bugs to calm himself. The haughty poodle would not allow such intimate grooming in front of the group and shook off the monkey. George hopped to the ground. Holding his palms out in front of him, the monkey began miming walls around himself. He was an expert pantomime from his years of illustrative modeling.
Neville got it at once and said, “You’re feeling trapped, old Man?”
George nodded sadly and sat down.
They all nodded sympathetically. To be the model and muse of a children’s book series would be dreadful. No one else in the group had such a cross to bear.
Kaa hissed his desire to speak.
“The trouble at home lately has been the inappropriate use of verbss. My writer is using the wrong verbss to desscribe the action. I will recite the following passage to illussstrate my point.” The snake stabbed the air with his tail to accentuate his words.
“Wagging his tongue and clicking his talonss along the wall, the alien moved closer toward the group. Ssscreams filled the tight ssspace. The group was trapped.”
Immediately Neville spoke up. “Why is the alien wagging his tongue?” With a long tongue of his own, the correct verbiage for describing the action of a particular tongue was of the utmost importance to him.
Mr. Ed agreed. “The wagging tongue is a speedbump to the story. The alien sounds more like a puppy than predator.”
“Took me right out of the story,” Maya murmured.
“Why isn’t the alien flicking the tongue?” Mr. Darcy asked.
Kaa nodded his head in agreement. “I know. It is obviousss.”
From below, Dennis Hopper interjected, “I think we need to focus more on the alien’s motivations…”
“Only group members can provide commentary and feedback,” Mr. Darcy interrupted with distinction. “Just one more comment before we move on.”
Neville croaked, “I suggest you flick your tongue more to encourage the proper word usage.”
“Very good idea, Neville. Thank you.”
Mr. Darcy then asked to share a passage from the latest iteration of corset-popping romance novel. He spoke loudly and recounted with flourish a love scene that made even Mr. Ed blush. However, upon finishing, the animals were ready with critiques. Maya began.
“While it pains me to admit this, the word ‘milky’ was used in excess,” the cat complained.
“I counted three ‘milky’s” said Kaa.
“That paragraph had more milk than a dairy cow,” said Mr. Ed.
Neville, who knew the habits of Mr. Darcy’s author to read her work aloud to her very attentive poodle on a regular basis, suggested the following:
“Every time she reads the word “milky” you should bark,” said the toad. “It will bring attention to the over-usage. Very simple solution.”
“I liked the repetitive use of ‘milky’’ said a small voice coming from the ground.
With a quick pounce, Maya swatted the insect straight towards the toad. Neville shot out his tongue and caught the grasshopper with one well-aimed flick. His long tongue recoiled and he swallowed the insect whole. Everyone was quiet. The team-effort turned barbaric-act was recognized with a moment of reverence and awe. For a full minute they sat in silence. Then the poodle brought them back to the purpose of their meeting.
“Well, to conclude our meeting, Maya, would you grace us with a bit of your poetry?”
The cat pulled herself up to her tallest height and spoke:
To all creepin’ upon the earth,
Walkin’ on four legs from their birth.
Realize the measure of your creation.
All are creatures of our God and King.
‘Cepting those who are annoying.
Those we eat.
Those are treats.
Ain’t we bad?
The animals looked around the circle and smiled. Mr. Ed spoke for them all when he whinnied aloud,
“Neigh.”