“Very nice,” She smiles.
“Lilly is napping, I think. Lilllly! Liiiilly!” The otter barks, shooting down river, and returning just as quickly.
Something rustles through the thick grasses behind the rocks, and a small animal plops down beside the woman. It’s a platypus! She extends her claws stretching the webbing between her digits and peers into the river. “Mnmnmn, I was having such a nice nap. Are you enjoying your slide, Oscar dear?”
“It’s perfect.” The otter brags boisterously. He dives then resurfaces, fur gleaming in the bright light. Flipping on his back he holds out a paw. "I'm a giat river otter. Oscar, by name." When you hesitate he tilts his head in curiosity and glances at the platypus. "Shaking hands is the human greeting, right Lilly?"
"Yes, dear. One of them."
The paw is warm and soft against your palm, "Sorry. I wasn't expecting it." You explain.
"Quite alright." The otter scratches his chest and follows your gaze as your eyes make it back to the platypus. "I imagine you're wondering. Yes." He agrees with himself. "How does a river otter fall in love with a platypus?" Oscar crawls onto shore and stretches out in the hot grass. "How could I not?" He gazes lovingly at the patchwork animal. "Just look at her! She's incredible! She's a little bit of everything. And she knows... she knows the universe."
The platypus curls up in a decidedly shy gestue. "Oscar, really. I'm not omnipitent. My kind just have a very strong sense of history."
"How did you find each other?" You wonder aloud, remembering that giant otters are from the Amazon, and platypus are from Australia.
"Ah. Excellent question." Oscar takes a deep breath, but Lilly interrupts gently.
"The simple answer is that we didn't." She crawls closer to the woman and nudges her affectionately.
"I don't under..."
The platypus sneezes. "Excuse me. Hayfever." She snuffles. "We found this place. We are all driven to find this place. By finding where we belong, finding who we are, we were able to find something... or someone... that would have always been beyond reach."
Oscar rolls in the grass then stands up. "Why don't we all have a slide? It's just right. Perfect."
The woman looks at you and grins. "It's quite fun. Otters do make the best mud slides."
"Absolutely." Lilly nods.
You laugh. "Couldn't turn that offer down, then."
Oscar leads the way to a wide wash where the grass and rocks have been cleared. "You first, he offers."
The woman stands behind you. "Go on... I've been before. Head first is alright... it's very deep."
The mud is soft and slippery. With a small shove your sliding forward, and picking up speed at an amazing rate. Your hands cut through the sruface, and you plung into the clear water, a thicket of bottom plants brushing you as your arch upward. When you surface it's raining. Large, cold drops hit your face, and the faint scent of chlorine tinges the air. You're in a swimming pool. The house behind it is dark, and it's twilight. There is no one else to be found. You climb out on to the tile and look down into the blue-green water. There's a shadow that surges up from the bottom and a hand reaches out of the water, palm up. The woman emerges, and swims to the ladder. She seems to be talking to herself, but as she approaches you see that there is something in her hand.
It's a small bronze and brown frog. It's clinging to her, and glaring at you. "Not my fault. Not may fault at all! It's not as if I want to have to be rescued!"
"Um, no, of course not." You glance at the woman questioningly.
"The tile is too slick. He can't get out of the pool."
"Damnable squirrels. If you didn't feed them they might go away!" He adds in an accusing voice.
"Are you sure it wasn't the rain that knocked you out of the tree?" She reasons.
"Rain!" The frog sputters. "I am a tree frog. I know how to cling to a branch! It's those squirrels I tell you! They go crashing about chasing each other like fools. Bouncing the branches, knocking of leaves... and me! I'm lucky I hit the pool and not the ground!" The frog blinks at you. "Do squirrels have natural enemies?"
"Sure."
"What?"
You think for a moment. "Cats. Foxes. Dogs. Birds of prey. All sorts of thing."
"A cat then! You should get a cat trained to chase squirrels." The frog seems quite pleased with himself.
The woman smirks. "Didn't a cat try to eat you once?"
The frog fidgets. "Yes, that's true."
"And wasn't it a blue jay that knocked you into the pool last time?"
"Wellll, yes." The frog hops to the end of her finger. "But I'm sure the squirrels aggitated it by bouncing around."
The woman nods, and winks at you. "Shall I put you on the bouganvilla until the storms passes?"
"That would be fine." The frog appears to be pouting. The woman places it gently on a heavy cluster of leaves and blooms. Heavy sheets of water are slaking from the live oaks that tower over the backyard, but the frog is safely tucked into the foliage. "Do dogs eat frogs?" It opens its eyes widely.
"'Friad so." You reply.
"Oh well," it sighs. "Thanks."
The woman blows it a kiss, and nods towards a large gate at the other end of the fence. "We should be going... the storm is going to get worse."