Howl Your Appellations

                                                                                  BOEN OPEOR       “The one thing I miss the most about the Earth is moss—but being on the moon has its advantages too. I like to think that whenever a wolf howls, I feel like I’m its recipient.” Patricar Fars’ voice crumbles into tiny chuckles, like pebbles being dropped into a spring, it reverberates. Her podcast always has a fantastical pureness to it, one that has me arrested in its other worldly embrace. Maybe that’s why I’m here; maybe my only way up is forward.            I decided to move to a brand new city. I wanted to feel unstuck and not bored but ultimately; I want to ''fill'' my Sisyphean needs until I can’t again. So far on my journey, a whole week, I’ve acquired a great sizeable sum of just aimlessly wandering the island city and eating at cafes. Right now, I’m taking my good old man friend, Goroe “Beanie” Ko, to the Gondola terminal. We’ve met while I was at my favorite sea-side café; I was crocheting with my three sweet bean paste steamed buns, my tall icy glass of peach juice, and my favorite podcast.         I was commissioned by the sagacious twins and café owners, Dann and Isa, to crochet simple ocean-inspired coasters, and decided that I’d have a better feel of the coasters if I was at the café itself. The café’s theme is “Cozy Neptunian”, there’s light gradient hues of beach plum, purple and lavender lace on the wall that makes it seem like a three colored rainbow always hits the alabaster walls of the café. The café is elevated on a slope so that the view of the sea from the three giant circle top windows, (Beanie and I sat on the third table facing the third window) remains unobscured by passing trucks or cars. Their floors are simple and maple, while their synthetic coral decorations steal the whole show. They keep the corals in beautiful pots and bottles, bottles similar to potion flasks or fancy perfume bottles, and hang them on the ceiling. It is always a feast for the eyes, as if the mind camera instinctively does a push-in shot of its marine majesty. Also their “Pearline” IC lamp stands? I’m really a big fan of that; it’s like a glow-in-the- dark lollipop. It’s admirable to see siblings so close to one another that they’d decide to make the café of their dreams a reality. And I have a tiny part of that realized dream! If you’re ever at Pupaport near Abalone next to the ocean, draw your attention to a little sea-side café called, “Sea Twin”, I made the coasters there.                                                                                                                                                                             Back to Beanie, he saw me performing my crafts, eating, listening to my favorite podcast and asked if he could sit next to me (through gestures), I of course had no objections so I let him sink his little butt on Dann and Isa’s tall metal bow café chair.           Beanie was my grandfather’s friend, they moved here together a love time ago, they could have been best friends or they could have been lovers; all I know is that they were close and that he cried when my grandpa died. He’s a small (about five feet) man with circular glasses almost covering up his upper head. A thin bed of hair, greyish, still sits on his crown and temple. He always wears beige pants and loose-fitting button-down shirts with his grey cowl and wears 100% leather shoes. He took care of my Pa’s cabin through his own kindness, initiative and maybe even guilt; but I’m not here for all of that. I’m just here to see what I can do here, that’s all. I crocheted, and he read his book about mountain goats. He’d occasionally ask me if I’d ever crochet horn warmers for old mountain goats and I’d reply with, “Of course!”                                                                                                                                                                                     We kept at our hobbies for about two hours until we noticed that it was raining; it’s not pouring heavily, but it might surprise us after a while. Beanie only took his modified mountain bike—he strapped a cute little basket on it—so he’s bound to get wet and sick, so I offered him a ride to the terminal. I took Soft, my black Birman cat, from the café’s cat tree, (which I should have mentioned before, as one of the Sea Twin Café’s many wonderful features) and we set off into the fog.       The roads swivel and turn, my favorite kind of road; it slopes and flattens just like a heartbeat. The rain continues to drench the asphalt perfectly. I listen to Patricar Far talk about her experiences and thoughts on the moon, while Beanie softly caresses Soft, “What big bright eyes you have~!” I hear him say to her as she purrs.          With the rain comes the fog, it’s disappointing really, since I really enjoy seeing the ocean turn into the river and the river turn into the forest. The mountains, they stay the same: ancient and perennial. The ride from the café to the Gondola Terminal takes about 35 minutes, then I go down a slope and it’s a fifteen minute drive back to my grandpa’s cabin. Beanie still has to take the gondola to who-knows-where, I never really had a chance to visit him yet, and I’m not sure if I ever will. I would like him to teach me how the Gondola schedules and systems work one of these days. There're all sorts of them around here. Some have dragon-shaped designs that seem to lead to nowhere, some are family-sized that looks small on the outside but huge on the inside, and some look like green beans removed from the pod, which is apparently a one-person gondola. The way of the sky-mountain gondolas is a mystery to an outsider, that’s what makes Abalone one of the most intriguing cities.                “How are you liking the Island so far, Bo?” he asks.   “Huh?” I flinch. “Oh! I love it! But is it just me or does the road keep changing though? The lengths of the road randomly change, are the road signs just wrong? Or am I just overthinking things?” Beanie laughs a hardy laugh which startles Soft but not enough to make her leap out of his lap.  “Why I’ll be, it was the same for me and Mags a long time ago. The funny thing is, only the drivers notice this, never the passengers.”   “Eh? So what does it mean?” Beanie stares outside the window to see nothing but thick fog, “We haven’t figured it out yet too.” He continues to stare, almost longingly.  I shrug and reply, “Well, you’re still here so it can’t mean it’s a bad thing, right? A little inconvenient but probably just a joke the island plays or something… if you believe in those kinds of things.” I nudge. He smiles and replies, “I do.”