10/30/2010

A Very Special Episode

Yesterday I made a trip to my hometown. I had to get my car inspected. Also, the mother of a neighbour recently passed away, so I wanted to attend calling hours.

Of course, Zelly Cthulhu came along.

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After I dropped my car off, I stayed at Grandpa's house. We ate some lunch and watched television together. Eventually, I couldn't keep my eyes open. The past few weeks have been rough, and I'm certainly not used to going out and drinking in the evening. These two factors hit suddenly, so I retired to my mother's old bedroom for a nap.

As I was unfurling a blanket, Zelly explored the place. He flew up to the dresser and began to poke around; I warned him not to disturb Grandpa's things. After a while, he settled down in front of an old picture. Before he could ask, I explained "That's an old picture of me when I was a kid. I was the flower girl in my uncle's wedding."

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"How long ago was that?"

"Oh, I don't know," I replied. "I was too young to remember a lot of it. So, probably twenty-five years or so."

He jumped onto my shoulder and gasped in astonishment. "Wow! You grew so big that fast?"

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"Yeah. We humans do that."

I settled into bed and closed my eyes. It was just a week prior that I was sleeping here. My grandmother had passed away, and I didn't want Grandpa to be alone in the house. Tears welled in my eyes. 

This sudden burst of emotion did not escape Zelly. "Why are you sad?"

I sat up. "Zelly, I don't think you'll understand. You guys cause death, yeah, but I don't think you experience it like we do. When somebody dies, you never see them again. It's very sad. But you creatures live forever, or at least for so long that you forget what it's like to not be alive. We do all our growing and dying in the span of a few decades. That's it. That's all the life we're allowed to have."

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"But why?"

"I don't know. People have been trying to figure that out for as long as they've been people. That's why so many religions exist. Maybe that's why they cause so many wars. Nobody's really right about what happens to you when you die, but people want to believe that they are. Losing somebody hurts so much, so religion is the one thing some people have to cling to. Perhaps they don't want that belief to be threatened. I don't know, but I've never been religious, so I'm not the best person to speculate about all that."

"Are people sad forever whenever somebody dies?"

"No, Zelly. Not completely. We start off being all sad, and then we become incrementally less sad over time. Pretty soon, only a part of us is sad. But, yes, that part remains sad forever. A piece of me will miss Grandma all the time -- at Christmas, or when I eat Wedding Soup (which is never served at weddings, oddly enough), or if I get married someday. Or when I look at Grandpa and see how much he misses her. They were married for sixty-one years, and when you're with somebody for so long, it's hard to live life without them. Hell, I'm twenty-eight. Before I moved to Pittsburgh, I saw Grandma almost every day because she lived so close. And even though I didn't see her every day for the past two and a half years, she was still only a phone call away. Or, there was just the thought that she was there. ...Oh, Zelly, I feel so tired. Sometimes this stuff is really hard to think about, and humans are ultimately fragile things."

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"Maybe," I continued. "It's best that your dad is just going to destroy everybody someday. We'll die all at once, and then there'll be nobody left to miss anybody. And if he does eat our souls, then there really won't be anything left. There'll never be any sadness on this planet ever again. That's both beautiful and distressing at the same time."

"There's so much I don't know about humans. How can you live being so sad all the time?"

"We're not sad all the time. And it's sadness and happiness and beauty and anger that makes life. Do you have a grandmother, Zelly?"

"I don't think so."

"Grandmothers reward you for the simple act of living. They shower you with food and money and presents whenever you visit. They're patient and loving, no matter what you do. They'd give you a medal for getting the mail every day if they could. Maybe they're like that because they're only around for a short time. Grandmothers are the best. You should ask if you have one. If you do, you should go visit her in whatever dimension she lives in."

"I don't think my grandmother would be like that."

"Well," I mused. "You're probably right."

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We stared at each other for a long time. "You know something?" Zelly eventually quipped. "I'd be sad if you died because I'd miss you."

"Well, thanks. I suppose that's really something coming from a Cthulhu."

He hopped up onto my head. "And whenever Dad wakes up, I'll tell him not to eat you. That way, you'll always have a friend you'll never have to lose. Then we can have adventures forever."

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"I'd like that, Zelly. But only if you leave me some noodles."



10/28/2010

Zelly Cthulhu explores Bloomfield.

I had promised to take Zelly Cthulhu on a tour of his new neighbourhood. The nightmarish weather had passed sometime in the early morning, leaving sunshine and a calm atmosphere behind. It was perfect for photography. As I gathered my lenses and filters together, Zelly explored my bag.

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After picking up a package (I'm going to be Faye from Questionable Content for Halloween), Zelly announced that he was hungry.

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The owner was a mustachioed gentleman named Sergio. Poor Sergio. I hope someday he'll get over the nightmares.

I've been living in Bloomfield since May, but I had never taken the opportunity to explore my surroundings. But with Zelly's unyielding enthusiasm, it turned into an adventure. I picked up on small details that I had never noticed on my way to the laundromat or grocery store.

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Upon seeing this sign, I thought it would be funny to get a picture of Zelly sitting on top of it. He didn't really get the joke, so I simply explained "That's Jesus Christ. Whenever your dad wakes up, you're going to hear a lot of people saying that guy's name."

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He wanted a picture in front of a portrait of his mother, even though I tried to explain that it wasn't her. Zelly was unrelenting, so I eventually just gave in.

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Sometime after, Zelly decided that he wanted to take a nap in the warm sun. I had no idea what (or how long) a "nap" entailed, so I told him to get up and wait until we got home.

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He got kind of cranky after that, so I threatened to leave him behind. 

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He didn't think it was very funny. I told Zelly to pose on the mailbox because that's what he was acting like.

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"I'm just going to park here! For an hour! Just like the sign says! And you can't stop me!" 

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I picked him up. "If I'm going to be taking care of you, I can't just leave you in the middle of the street. Your father would be furious! Come on, let's go."

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After that, he perked up a bit. It may have been the squirrel he attacked and devoured. I was too afraid to take any pictures of that.

Our sightseeing trip resumed.

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At one point, Zelly tried to steal a bike. I just let him go so he could see the folly of his effort. He later lamented the fact that he wasn't big enough to reach the handlebars, but "having a bike would be the most badass thing ever!" I told him that if he was good, Santa Cthulhu might bring him one for Fishmas.

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"Santa Cthulhu only comes to good little Elder Things. Little Elder Things that help around the house and don't eat all the noodles and don't make threats to devour the soul of a person that's just trying to be nice. Maybe you should sit down and think about that."

He did, but he mostly just pondered how awesome his new bike would be.

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"OH! ZELLY!" I exclaimed. "You have to get your picture taken on the phone! It'll be 'The Call of Cthulhu'!" I started to laugh, but he just stared at me. I guess he never read any Lovecraft.

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"Is that were Santa Cthulhu lives? Is that were his Fishmas shoggoths make all the presents?"

"Uh...yeah. That's where he lives. Notice how close it is to my apartment, Zelly. If you act up, he'll know about it."

"Can we go in? Please?"

"No. He has a lot of work to do. But you can get your picture in front of the sign. Maybe you can send a copy to him with your Fishmas list."

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I got a picture of the two of us together.

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We returned home after that, but not before Zelly tried to attack a grocery store.

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He spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the bathroom and writing out his Fishmas list. Later on, he followed me to Punk Rock Karaoke, but he was afraid to leave my bag. Too many new people or something. Oh well, maybe next time.

10/27/2010

It was a dark and stormy night.

No, really, it was. Some weatherman said that Pittsburgh was going to get hit by a tornado. He was either overzealous or lying.

I was returning from checking out Zomburgh, a place that will be offering classes that teach survival skills for the impending Zombie Apocalypse. No, I'm not making that up. Pittsburgh really is that awesome.

The scariest part, though, was the drive. The Liberty Tunnels are out of commission at that time of night, so I was detoured all around Mt. Washington. It was certainly a harrowing endeavor since it was raining so hard.

When I arrived back home, I was struck by the uneasy feeling that something was watching me. Or, even worse, following me.

It turns out I was right.


"What -- who?!" I exclaimed, spinning around. "This is private property. You can't just come in here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," it hovered at the door. "It's just that I'm a little, well, lost. It's my first time in Pittsburgh, and this city is so confusing."

I sat on the step to get a better look at him. "Wait. Are you...Cthulhu? Oh God, you are. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, bigger? Or rising out of the ocean? Or...devouring everything?"


"I think," he replied. "You have me confused with my dad, Cthulhu, Sr. He's taking a nap right now, so he told all of us kids to go out and play."

"Oh. So, you're...Cthulhu, Jr.?"

"No, that's technically my older brother. 'Cthulhu' is our family name. My first name is Zelfthilfygnan. I'm Zelfthilfygnan Cthulhu. I was named after Great-Uncle Zelfthilfygnan."

"How exactly do you spell that?" I asked.

"Z-e-l-f-h-i -- "

"You know what? I won't be able to pronounce it, anyway. Can I just call you Zelly?"

"Sure," he nodded. "Well, I shouldn't take up more of your time. It was nice meeting you. Maybe we'll run into each other in another few million years. Wait, you humans don't live that long. I always forget things like that." He waved and began to shuffle off down the sidewalk.

"Wait!" I called after him, ignoring all better judgement. "Would you like to come in for a bit? The weather is horrible. Are you hungry? I just went grocery shopping yesterday. I could make you something to eat."

"You know what? I'd like that. But I don't want to impose -- "

"Are you serious? I'm, like, your dad's biggest fan. I insist! And tomorrow, I can show you around the neighbourhood. Come on. I live just at the top of the stairs."


"Well, I would like to get out of this rain for a while."

After we were safely indoors, we went to the kitchen. Zelly was immediately dismayed to learn that my pantry did not include soul-based foods (he specifically asked for "cruelty-free", oddly enough), but he soon perked up when he discovered the pan of brownies I had baked that afternoon.

"I don't know what this is," he remarked. "But it smells heavenly."

"That's just some brownies. They're made out of chocolate and eggs and flour, but not souls. Go ahead, have one."


I no longer have leftover brownies. Actually, I no longer have leftover anything.


After wrenching him from my kitchen, I told him that it was time for bed. He must have been more worn out than he had let on because he fell asleep at my feet while watching a PBS documentary about Tecumseh.

I am thankful that he didn't discover my two guinea pigs, Egon and Captain Ahab. If he's going to be staying here, I should probably lay down the ground rules now. Guinea pigs are not to be consumed in THIS apartment!