Bumples

The night was young, the stars were out, and red and blue lights swirled on her face.

She grimaced. Lights had never been her favorite thing, especially since she had spent the majority of her life lurking in the darkness.

“Name?” She peered upwards, squinting against flashes of color, just barely making out a dark silhouette. She didn’t move.

The officer sighed and rolled his weight onto his other foot. “Name,” he repeated, with a touch more impatience. His thoughts strayed longingly to the Hot Pockets waiting for him in his freezer, and for the umpteenth time that night, he mentally smacked himself for picking up the Friday night shift.

Her gazed dropped, and she addressed her response to the bits of gravel and glass on the road. “Bumples,” she muttered.

The officer eyed her suspiciously. “Your name is Bumples,” he repeated slowly.

“Yes.”

Another sigh. He flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. “Alright, Bumples. Do you know why I stopped you?”

Her eyes flickered upwards momentarily, the earthy brown of fresh soil. “No,” she replied sullenly. “I was minding my own business, I had somewhere to go, and then you just pulled over.”

“Right.” The officer’s pen paused above paper. “And where were you going? You were running straight into the road, didn’t even look to see if cars were coming on either side.”

The tension in the air spiked sharply. “Nowhere.”

The officer’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Listen, Bumples, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Both of us would prefer the easy way, believe me. Now—where were you going?”

The faint sound of a house party several streets down filled the silence.

His breath released in a sharp exhale. “Alright then,” he said carefully, deliberately snapping the notebook shut, “if you won’t tell me where you were going, how about telling me where you came from?”

She finally looked up, surprising him with the intensity of her unblinking gaze. “Yes,” she said, mouth curving, “that I can do.” What would have been quite a lovely smile was marred by the fuzzy stumps visible in her mouth.

The officer was noticeably startled, and she took advantage of his lack of response, pressing forward with her words.

—

It all started when I was born. Ma and Pa were great parents, always protecting me and letting me eat the best tubers. So I grew up healthy and fast.

The problems started on my fifth birthday. See, I wanted to start out on my own, and explore the city for myself. I’d only heard rumors about the place from the talking wall, but Ma and Pa told me that the wall only spouted lies to trick us, catch us, and eat us. It was only safe to leave when the wall fell asleep, but no one who ever left came back.

My parents pleaded with me to stay in the darkness, where it was safe. But rebellious youngling that I was, I left. I’d heard muffled whispers about the city of Davidson for years, and I decided that seven was a fine age to leave home. I left without saying a word to either Ma or Pa, and now I regret it, since I’ll probably never see them again.

But getting to Davidson was hard, far harder than I’d ever imagined. I traversed landscapes rougher than I care to think about, evaded bushy-tailed monsters, and even after all that was done with, I had to deal with lights for the first time in my life. They were grotesquely blinding, and illuminated the giants’ features in all their ugliness—and yes, there were giants. They’re everywhere. You’re one, too.

But I’m getting off-topic here; I made it through to the city, and the first thing that hit me was the sheer size of it all. The second thing that hit me was all of the lights. I mean, really? Some parts of the city never turn their lights off. Ever. Is that really necessary? Luckily, I live in the part that only has to put up with them sometimes; I really don’t know how you—

—

“Excuse me,” interjected the officer. Bumples glanced up, mid-gesture, annoyance plain on her rough features. “Did you say that you lived in Davidson?”

“Did I stutter?” snapped Bumples. The unexpected sass stunned the officer into blinking silence. “Now, if you don’t have any more stupid questions. As I was saying—”

—

You giants are so rude. Maybe it’s because you’re all in the light so often, and it makes you stupid. Anyway, yes. I live in Davidson. Or at least, I did, until I got evicted. I was getting to that part, and now you messed up my flow.

Okay. So you asked where I was coming from earlier, yes? I was running away from home. It was just going to be a normal day, I was just waking up and getting ready to go food-collecting again, when all of a sudden—more of you stupid giants! And, what’s more, they ruined my darkness with their lights!

So I thought these were just lost giants. And I thought they’d go away after they figured out that they were lost. But they didn’t go away, they stayed, and more and more of them came to join their friends. And this lasted for days, and I was so hungry this entire time because I didn’t dare risk going into all that light and facing all those giants. How was I supposed to know that your festival—what do you call it? Mittems? Mudturms?—that your Festival of Mudturms was going on?

I thought I could wait out the giants, but I was getting so hungry. So, so hungry. I could smell the orange peels and the nutshells that the giants were just wasting, offering them to that stone-colored mouth—don’t you know it’s not alive, silly giants—, and it was maddening. And today—I just couldn’t take it anymore. I waited until I saw only one giant, a female I think, but who can really tell anyway, you don’t have beards like we do, but anyway, I ran out when I could and I rammed into the side of the mouth to make it throw up. I didn’t think the giant would notice, but I guess the mouth screamed or something, because it looked up and the next thing I knew, all of its friends were running towards it and they were all looking in my direction.

I hid myself right when I realized that I’d been seen, of course—I’m not nearly as quick as an ant, but I’m no giant, you know—but it was too late. I suppose your species does have honor, if not intelligence, because they decided to avenge their friend the mouth by running at me. They chased me out of my own home, screaming some sort of war chant that went like, “WATIZIT, WATIZIT!” Bizarre, really.

But like humiliating me wasn’t enough, they wouldn’t stop chasing even after evicting me. Thankfully I knew where to go: Isla Vista. I’d heard the stories about the kingdom of Isla Vista alongside the whispers of the city of Davidson from a very young age, but I’d always been half-convinced that it was a fairytale concocted to make the younglings behave, in hopes of going there one day. I only knew differently after I heard one of the giants mention Isla Vista a long time ago—“Isla Vista is the cornerstone of culture and civilization,” I think he said. So it was to there I ran.

And here I am. I’m in the promised land, and the giants have disappeared back to their bright lights, but now another giant has found me. And I’m not even really quite sure why I explained all of this to you; I probably talked too fast for your giant brain to follow, anyway.

But this answers your question of where I came from. So can I go now?

—

“No.” The officer frowned, and clicked his pen ready. “Next question—have you been drinking? Are you under the influence of any drugs?”

“What?” she sputtered angrily. “I just recounted all of that for you! I thought you would at least follow half of what I was saying; are giants really so dumb that they can’t follow any of it?”

“C’mon now, no more jokes,” said the officer, raising his hands in a gesture of placidity. “What party did you come from? It must have been themed—are you dressed as a Smurf?”

At this, Bumples’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “Smurf?” she hissed. “Hell if I know what that is, but my not knowing is nothing compared to how little you giants know—”

“Giants!” The officer had finally lost his composure. “You keep talking about giants this, and giants that—I’m not a giant! I’m a normal-sized man! Just because you have some sort of growth deficiency, you can’t call everyone else a giant—if we’re giants, then what are you?”

What fire he had mustered quailed under a gaze that was equal parts revulsion and mockery. When Bumples spoke, her voice was carefully controlled.

“You really don’t know, do you.” It was not a question.

For the third time that night, the officer found himself at a loss for words. “I…” His voice trailed off into the wind, and he swallowed visibly. All the while, his eyes never left hers—rather, they couldn’t.

When he found his words again, they emerged in a reedy voice. “I am going to let you go.” Another swallow. “This time.”

In the space of a blink, Bumples’ entire demeanor shifted. She smiled beatifically, once again baring her mossy teeth.

“Thank you very much, sir,” she said, hopping up from the curb. Bumples immediately began weaving her way back towards campus, and it was after a good half-minute had passed that the officer thought to call after her.

“Take care! I hope you enjoy living in Davidson!”

Bumples raised a hand without turning around. Her outline was rapidly disappearing into the night, and it was only by straining could the officer just barely make out her words.

“I will, stupid giant! After all, there’s no place like gnome.”◆