TWENTY-ONE - the Momo

“I got a place you can sleep,” he said.

“Midas, leave her alone,” said the proprietress. 

“I’m not doing nothing,” he said.

He ate a few bites of his greasy food. Arous could hear the Momo behind the counter purring. 

“Pay attention, Arous,” I told her for the fifth time.  She sat criss-cross-apple-sauce on her pillow but couldn’t stop moving and her eyes just flitted from place to place.  I wished, more than once, that she could sit as still as Edlawit who sat upright staring straight at me.  Edlawit put her arm around Arous and let her lean into her shoulder.

“Where almost done with our lesson. Stay with me just a few more minutes.

“Momo’s don’t purr because they’re happy, though it sounds like a contented, half-asleep cat.  It’s more like the rattle of a rattlesnake.”

“We don’t have rattlesnakes here.  Only the pretty ones.”

“Yes, Arous only the pretty ones.  But, you’ve heard me tell you about the snakes in the Cusp when you go out to heal that you have to watch for.  They warn you with a rattle they have on their tail.  When they shake their tail, that snake is going to strike if you don’t back up; the Momo is warning you that something’s coming and it’s not going to be pleasant.  Momos are not aggressive. Compared to Sasquatch, Momos are reluctant to use violence.  Momo’s believe that they are much more civilized, education and better company to people and the world, than the Sasquatch.”

“Why do they see themselves so different?” asked Edlawit.

“Good question and there is a long history behind it we won’t get to.  But suffice it to say, there’s some tension between the Momo and the Sasquatch even though they are related. You’ve seen -both races come to Alippiana during Jubilee. We don’t have problems with their spats and vain quarrels in Alippiana; it’s the Spirit of the Mist that reminds them of their unity.  But on the outside of the Bowl, there are major problems, tensions.  Side A doesn’t accept Side B for who they are. Side B can’t tolerate being called names, Side A feels judged. Side B brings up the past, which leads to “why did you have to bring that up again?” Then Side A calls Side B Neanderthals and Side B just stops talking or throws punches or food or whatever happens to be handy.”

“Which side is Side A?” asked Edlawit.

“They both are,” I said.

“How does it ever end?” she asked again.

“Well, it doesn’t ever resolve.  They might end small disputes temporarily and that depends on which side is which; its either aggression or withdrawal.  Momos withdraw on normal occasions but not always.”

This wasn’t a normal occasion.  The Momo continued to purr softly and throw quick glances at Arous.

The Desperado reached across the table and grabbed Arous’ hand.

“Hey,” he said.

 “What?”

“You’re Lunese aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer.

“Aw, don’t be scared.”

She looked up at him.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re valuable.  You’re famous. Right? You look like someone famous, anyway.”

“That’s my mom,” said Arous.

“I don’t mean it that way, beautiful,” he said with a crooked grin. “I mean, some people won’t like you if they see you.”

“I know,” she said.

“Then why don’t you come with me?” he said.

“Somehow,” she said. “I don’t think I’d be all that safe with you.”

He grabbed her other arm.

“Come with me.”

“No,” she said. “Let go of me.”

“Is that the ‘no’ that means ‘yes’, beautiful?”

It flashed before me.

The Desperado was in the act of yanking Arous out of the booth, when, like lightening, the Momo hit her wrists together smashing her bracelets into pieces while jumping over the bar kicking her heels together and shattering her anklets

As she began to jump over the counter, a Desperado at the bar drew his Desert Express .5 Laser and fired right at her chest.