''An Asexual Experience''
[[Start->Intro]]You cautiously walk forward, guided by the soft, wrinkled hand in yours. Your Grandpa said he had a surprise for you for your birthday, and insisted on tying one of his ties around your eyes to keep the surprise. He wasn’t usually one for dramatics like this, so you know it has to be something special.
You’re not walking for very long before he stops you. You hear him walk around you, and feel him untie the blindfold.
“Alright, kid. Open your eyes.”
You do, and you gasp, a smile already forming on your face.
In front of you is a pond, with a small wooden sign in front of it. The sign has your name on it, and a big red bow tied around it.
“I know you’re into all that biology stuff, and this bit of land went up for sale,” He smiled. “It’s yours now, kid.”
You can hardly believe it. An entire ecosystem, and it’s yours to explore. You turn around and give him a big hug, which he returns with a laugh.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be back at the house if you need me,” He says, before taking his leave.
You can’t wait any longer. You just have to [[check out your pond->Intro 2]].
It’s filled with life. You see a few frogs on lilypads, their calm exterior betrayed by the way their eyes dart around, looking for lunch in the form of the many bugs flying around. And there’s certainly no shortage of those. From tiny gnats that make their presence known by whispering in your ear, to huge dragonflies that seem to know how regal they look, there’s no shortage of winged creatures here. You can see the shadows of fish beneath the murky water. Sometimes you think it’s just a trick of the light, but a splash now and then reveals otherwise. You keep hoping to catch a glance of one, but no such luck today. Maybe they’ll feel less nervous when you come around more. They’ll get used to you. You’ll become just another part of the ecosystem.
You spend almost the whole day exploring your new patch of land, getting to know every inch and every animal, but soon enough, it’s time to [[head home.->Intro 3]]
You come home just as the sun’s setting, mud up to your knees, but with the biggest smile on your face. Your Grandpa sees you come in, and laughs a warm, proud laugh.
“You have fun today?” He asks, as if he can’t see your shining smile.
You launch into it immediately, telling him about all the frogs and flies, which spots are the muddiest, the way the reeds feel like raw cotton against your fingers when you brush past them--everything you can think of. You’re so proud of your little pond.
Your grandfather nods along, listening very patiently. He’s probably heard it all before, but he smiles and indulges you. When you finally finish, he leans back in his chair.
“Sounds like a mighty fine pond you got there, kid.”
You beam and lean back in your chair. It really is. It’s absolutely perfect.
“And don’t worry about the turtles. They’re pretty shy at first, and good at hiding. You’ll see ‘em soon enough.”
You glance over at him. Turtles? You hadn’t even thought about that. You tell him you’re not worried at all. Your pond’s already pretty great, after all. It’s okay if there’s no turtles.
“Oh, there’s turtles,” He insists. “Every pond’s got turtles. Different types, sure, but you’ll never see a pond without a turtle. They’re there, alright. You just need to find them.”
Well, that certainly gives you something to do [[tomorrow.->Choice]] It’s exciting, even.
That’s what that feeling in your stomach is.
Excitement.
You head back out to your pond in the morning. Maybe turtles only come out in the morning, you think. You’re sure to spot one. You stand at the pond, and do a quick scan. You squint, and walk all the way around, but you don’t spot any turtles. Certainly more animals today, though.
You decide to…
[[Keep looking for those turtles->Turtles]]
[[Look at the other animals->Not Turtles]]Grandpa’s right. They have to be here somewhere. You’re just not looking hard enough.
You make another round, this time much more slowly. Anything slightly rounded gets a close look, but mostly those things are rocks. You tread lightly and stare at the ground every time you take a step, in case there are baby turtles around. You stare at the water, hoping one will come up for air after a swim. You repeat all of these checks, over and over and over again.
Just as you’ve sworn you picked up this rock for the fourth time, you notice the sky is getting red. Is it that late already? Time to get home, you suppose. You trudge [[back to the house->Turtles 2]], the wet mud feeling colder on your legs than it did yesterday.
Maybe getting a good grip on your surroundings will help you find the turtles. You’re still new to this pond, after all.
The frogs are still here. You recognize one of them from yesterday, the fat one with the bright yellow belly. Its chin moves in and out much slower this morning. Maybe it’s not a morning frog? Or it’s chewing something? It looks just as content, though, hopping around from place to place, so you’re not too worried.
You spot some movement in the cattails, and freeze in place. You’re not scared, you just don’t want to spook whatever it is. A few moments later, a big beaver emerges!
Wait, no, not a beaver--it doesn’t have the floppy tail, or the big teeth. A muskrat, you remember now. Grandpa used to call you Muskrat when you’d build mud castles by the water, but you’ve never seen one this close before.
It doesn’t seem interested in building a push-up right now, though. Instead, it scrabbles to bend one of the cattails down and starts nibbling on it. It’s literally the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Once it’s had its fill of food, it actually dips its paws into the water, making a little cup to drink out of. This is too much cute for one person to handle. You could make a fortune on YouTube if you filmed this with your phone, but you don’t want to risk scaring it off.
But soon, and sadly, the muskrat scurries away, back into the reeds. You hope it considers moving to this pond permanently. It certainly doesn’t seem to be bothering any of the other animals.
You spend the rest of your day watching the frogs, watching them bicker over food, swim in the water, and occasionally sit on top of each other. You think that’s a sex thing, but have no real proof of that. You’ll just pretend they’re playing, for now.
It’s really relaxing, but eventually the sun does start to set, and you reluctantly [[head home->Not Turtles 2]], waving goodbye to the frogs as you do.
“Hey, how was the pond today?” Grandpa asks as you walk in.
You sigh, sitting down on the chair beside him on the porch. You tell him you couldn’t find any turtles, even though you searched everywhere.
He just gives you a comforting smile.
“Turtles are shy ones. You’ll see them one day, trust me.”
But you need to see them now. You’ll look even harder [[tomorrow.->Turtles 3]] They have to come out eventually.
“Hey, how was the pond today?” Grandpa asks as you walk in.
You shrug as you sit down. You tell him you didn’t find any turtles when you looked, but a muskrat stopped by to visit, and you think that one frog, whom you’ve named Big Yellowbelly, let someone sit on its back today, which was pretty cute.
He listened, but he seemed fixated on something. When I finished, he nodded.
“Turtles are skittish things. Maybe you’ve got the right idea, not looking for ‘em. Let them come to you, eh?”
You’re much more interested in letting the muskrat come to you, but maybe you’ll check for turtles [[tomorrow.->Not Turtles 3]]
There are mornings that it’s hard to get out of bed. Some days you try to convince yourself not to even check on your pond. But that feels too much like giving up. Like letting the turtles win.
So every morning, you trudge out to the pond. You turn over rocks, look in reeds, even wade through the water a few times. Nothing.
Grandpa suggested getting creative, luring them out. You plant some more grass, leave a pile of worms everywhere you can think of, even buy a snail to leave nearby, when you read that they like those, sometimes. Still nothing.
Not only that, other animals are thinning out, too. The frogs often fight over the pile of worms, and their numbers are getting smaller as a result. That means more bugs, which gets annoying fast. You’d hoped more bugs would attract more frogs, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. You have a sinking suspicion it was due to all your wading, but what choice do you have? You have to find those turtles. But going to your pond is becoming more and more of a chore.
One day, you drag yourself home, sitting yourself down next to Grandpa.
“Still no luck?”
You shake your head. You feel like such a failure. Why can’t you find any turtles? And if they aren’t there, why? What is so wrong with your pond that the turtles don’t want to live there?
Grandpa was watching you with concern. He reaches over and puts a hand on your shoulder.
“Listen. I know a guy who raises turtles. He’s not keen on selling them, but he’s an old friend. If you introduce a few, it might help things.”
It sounds good. Almost too good to be true.
“Whaddya say, kid? Want me to give him a call?
Maybe [[that'd be best.->TY]] Or maybe [[that's a bad idea.->TN]]
The next month seems to fly by. Learning the natural order of the pond, and seeing how it continues to evolve, is fascinating. The muskrat ran away the first few times you revealed yourself, but after a few days of sitting peacefully by the side of the water and not looking at it when it came to get reeds, it eventually realized you weren’t a threat. You almost cheered when you saw it was starting to build a push-up for itself, right near the reeds. The frogs were happy about it, too. Now, they could get closer to the middle of the water to grab some food. The muskrat was mad about the intruders at first, but it soon realized that it got rid of all those pesky bugs by its place, so now it only snuffles a little when a frog hops onto the muddy platform that was slowly becoming its home.
You also got to know the birds who stopped by. Mostly it was ducks, and the muskrat did not get along with them at all. It made you laugh, seeing them try to race each other away every morning. The muskrat was faster in the water, but the ducks had a bigger wingspan to flap. It was anybody’s game every morning, but the ducks were winning by a slim margin. They were cheating, though, since there were more of them.
One morning, you even saw a huge heron, which the internet later told you was specifically a “great egret”. Everyone in the pond was scared when it swooped down, yourself included. But as it turned out, it just strutted around a bit, munching on plants. It was like when the popular person at school came over and you expected a mean comment, but they just told you your shirt looked cool and walked away. Well, flew away, in this case. It didn’t come often, but when it did, the whole pond seemed to stop and stare. It was almost becoming just as much of a regular as anyone else.
You still glanced around for turtles, of course. You couldn’t help it--Grandpa said they had to be here somewhere, right? But you never saw one, not once.
But you didn’t really mind. The pond was so beautiful and vibrant already, how could you mind? Turtles or no turtles, every day at the pond was an adventure.
You were updating your Grandpa again about how you were almost positive the heron that came today was a /different/ great egret, because it just didn’t walk the same and it had more white than black on its legs, which meant maybe there would be more coming around, and you hoped that wouldn’t scare the frogs too much, they only just got used to the muskrat, but he actually interrupted you this time.
“So you still haven’t seen any turtles?”
You felt like the wind got knocked out of you. Grandpa never interrupted your stories. Did he not care about all the other animals? You quietly told him no, you hadn’t.
He was silent for a moment.
“That is worrisome, you know. Every pond needs turtles. A pond with no turtles is hardly a pond at all.”
You feel your throat start to close up. You love your pond, and everyone in it. But...maybe you just don’t know any better. Maybe your pond really is horrible, compared to others. Maybe you’re not taking good care of your pond at all, and it’s going to fall apart any day now.
“I’ll tell you what,” Grandpa says, his voice suddenly more confident, more determined. “I know a guy who raises turtles. He’s not talked about selling ‘em yet, but he and I go way back. I’ll talk to him, see what he can do about getting some turtles into your pond. Might help the other turtles feel less shy, right?”
You wonder for a moment. Then you ask him what would happen if there really weren’t any turtles.
“Oh, there are,” He was quick to say. Then he chewed his lip.
“But if there aren’t,” He finally said. “Then all the better. No pond can get by without turtles, you know. It ain’t natural. But if we put the turtles in, they’ll make more, and everything’ll be back to normal.”
He smiled. For some reason, you don’t smile back.
“Whaddya say, kid? Want me to give him a call?”
It seems like [[a horrible idea->NTN]], but...[[maybe he's right?->NTY]]You almost don’t want to. It feels like failure, like admitting your pond was defective to begin with. But you’re being offered a solution. It would be ridiculous not to take it.
“Okay,” You mutter, unable to even look your Grandpa in the eye.
You feel his hand on your shoulder, though, which makes you look up.
“Chin up, eh? [[The worst->TY 2]] is over.”
Jerry comes by in the morning with a big cage and four turtles. It’s strange to be seeing them right in front of you, after searching for so long. Looking at them makes you feel even emptier.
You all trudge out to the pond. Jerry comments on all the “damn bugs”, and you feel your throat close up. We’re fixing it, you remind yourself. This will fix everything.
He releases the turtles gently into the pond, and you almost cheer when they make their way into the water. The frogs hop away from them, clearly wary of their presence. You almost think the turtles are wary, too, but they’re probably just slow.
Grandpa puts his arm around you, using the other to swat away the [[bugs.->TY 3]] “It’ll be alright, now.”
You can only hope he’s right.
You check on your pond every day. The turtles don’t move much, but you guess that’s just their nature. There’s less insects, which you’d expected and hoped for, but you also notice there are less frogs. At first, you think they just decided to leave, but one morning you watch a turtle get some breakfast, and realize how optimistic that was. Still, you convince yourself it’s a good thing. Circle of life, the food chain, all that. They’re restoring order, is all.
Soon, you only see the turtles. They’re starting to fight with each other most days over algae and reeds. You think about maybe planting more.
One day, while you’re watching, you see two of the turtles chase the other two away. You panic, and run over to try and put him back, but the first two turtles bite at your hands and ankles until you’re forced to give up. The two that are leaving don’t even fight it--it’s almost like they want to leave. You try to stay calm. You’ve still got two turtles, right? And they’ll make more turtles. You’ll have plenty more turtles where they came from.
A week later, you come back to an empty pond. Your heart rate skyrockets, and you search frantically for them. When they’re nowhere to be found, you sit and wait. Maybe they just left to go get some food or something. They’ll be back.
Grandpa finds you sitting in the dark, using the light from your phone to look towards any rustling.
“Jesus, kiddo, you scared me!” He chastises you. “You didn’t come home! What do you think you're doing?”
He loses his harsh tone when you turn around, tears streaming down your face. “The turtles left,” You say, your voice hitching.
He pulls you up and into a hug. “We’ll get more,” He reassures you, but you just feel [[numb.->TY 4]]
Jerry brings in four more turtles.
Within two weeks, they’re gone.
He tries six.
They’re gone in a week.
After that, he comes and checks the pond, though it’s hard to get through all the insects. He comes back severely bitten and declares that the pond is almost uninhabitable, and the turtles are just moving on. There’s nothing he can do, he says.
You cry all night.
You no longer feel like getting out of bed.
Why would you?
Your pond is [[broken.->Worst End]]
''Best End''
[[Credits->Credits]]
[[Restart->Title]]''Credits''
Written and Programmed by Mary Kate M.
Inspired by posts from pinkdiamondprince and dragonheartftherpays
Special Thanks to Ari T.
[[Restart->Title]]It seems like such an obvious solution, but still, you shake your head.
Grandpa gives you a look. “They’re not going to appear on their own, you know. You can’t just wait around.”
You find your voice again, and say no.
“Well, you have to do something!” He insists. “Can’t have a pond without turtles!”
“Why?” Bursts out of you, louder than you expected. Grandpa seems taken aback, too, taking a moment before answering.
“Why? Whaddya mean, why? It’s a pond! Whoever heard of a pond with no turtles?”
You certainly haven’t, to be fair. But you’re tired of looking for them. If the pond really is as weird as he says, maybe it needs your guidance more than any other. You tell him this, but he seems doubtful.
“Denial’s not healthy, kid. But when you change your mind, the offer stands.”
You nod, but know you probably won’t. Refusing the offer made you feel [[lighter->TN 2]]than you have in weeks.
The first thing you do when you get to the pond is pull up all the grass you planted. It hasn’t had much time to sprout, but better safe than sorry. You want to reverse the damage you’ve done. Your pond wasn’t that bad, was it? It was certainly better before, when the water was clear and the bugs were manageable. You want to fix it, but interfering made it worse before. Best to stay back for a while.
For the next week, you visit the pond, but don’t get too close. You know any progress will happen with or without you, but you want to see it happen. Besides, Grandpa keeps bugging you about the turtles. The less time you spend at home, the better.
One day, you spot someone new. A muskrat, bending down a reed and munching on it. You freeze, not wanting to scare it away. It seems annoyed by the bugs, but keeps eating anyway. Before it leaves, it makes a little mountain of mud. You wonder why.
Two days later, you notice there are way less bugs. You get your answer when you see a bunch of small frogs hopping around. There must have been tadpoles in the water! You’re so grateful you didn’t disturb the water more than you did. The muskrat’s come back every day, and seems to be building a little hut for itself.
Every day, there’s more signs of life. Ducks come and go to swim around. The frogs get bigger, and start to huddle together. The muskrat settles into its new home. And even as you get closer, the animals don’t seem too bothered.
You still think about the turtles sometimes, but you wouldn’t dare risk this. It’s not the liveliest or most popular pond, but it’s yours.
And [[you like it just the way it is.->Good End]]
"No." The word comes out louder than you expected.
He gives you a look.
“No? Whaddya mean, no? You want a pond, don’t ya?”
Your grip tightens a bit on your armrest. You tell him you already have a pond. A great one.
“Sure, but what kind of pond don’t have turtles? It’s weird, kid.”
You tell him you don’t care that it’s weird. It’s still great.
“Look, you’re young. You don’t understand yet. It’s fine for a pond not to have turtles when it’s starting out, but it’s been a while. You should have turtles by now.”
You don’t, you tell him. And you don’t care, because you don’t need turtles.
“Every pond needs turtles.” He’s laughing, but it makes you feel cold instead of warm. “That’s just nature.”
Maybe it isn’t, you tell him. Everyone at the pond seems to be doing just fine without turtles.
“You just think so right now,” He says, his gentle voice more condescending than reassuring, now. “Once you see a pond with turtles, you’ll change your mind.”
No, you won’t, you tell him. Because you like your pond exactly the way it is.
“What, do you hate turtles or something? Turtle bite you as a kid or something?”
No! You insist. You don’t hate turtles! You don’t hate ponds that have turtles! You just don’t need them in your pond right now!
“You’re just being difficult. You’ll have turtles someday.”
Maybe you will! You tell him, your voice rising. Maybe you will find a turtle someday! But right now, you don’t see any, and you’ve looked. And the pond is fantastic without them, so you’re just going to enjoy the pond.
“You’re talking nonsense. I’ll call Jerry in the morning--”
NO! You yell, standing up from your chair. He is not going to call Jerry! If Jerry even tries to bring turtles in, he’ll regret it! You’ll stake out your pond all day and night if you have to keep him and his stupid inbred turtles out!
Your Grandpa stands up too, staring right in your eyes. You’ve never seen them that hard, or cold.
“Your pond is sick,” He says, and each word pierces you like a dagger. “It’s unnatural. You think your pond’s better than everyone else’s because you claim it doesn’t need turtles? If it really has no turtles, then it ain’t special, or great, or fantastic or whatever you tell yourself. It’s defective. It’s wrong.” He laughs that cold laugh, and heads back towards the house.
“I hope you’re proud of your miserable little pond, kid. Because no one else is.”
The door shuts. You stand frozen for a moment, tears welling in your eyes. Then you grab your Grandpa’s chair, tossing it over the porch rail as hard as you can. You kick the porch rail a few times for good measure, grunting with each kick as your vision gets blurrier and blurrier.
Finally, you grab the porch rail, and bite your lip to make sure no sound escapes as your shoulders and stomach quake with silent sobs.
You wonder if you'll ever get to [[sleep->NTN 2]] tonight.
It was a fitful sleep. You were aware of every noise, every creaking floorboard--any sign that Grandpa was calling Jerry, or sneaking out to see him. But there was nothing all night.
Grandpa hasn’t acknowledged you all morning. You tried to stay silent, too, but you let out a quiet apology when you accidentally bumped his arm grabbing cereal. He didn’t say a word, just took his own bowl up to his room. You ate at the table alone, with only the sound of metal scraping ceramic and your own chewing to break the silence.
As soon as you’re done eating, you run to your pond. Part of it is fear, but part of it is just needing to know it really is that great.
When it comes into view, you actually gasp. Everyone is there. The ducks, the muskrat, the frogs, the dragonflies and /two/ great eglets, cuddled up to each other. They look to you for a moment before resuming what they were doing. You’re just another part of the pond, after all. Nothing out of the ordinary.
You almost start crying again. The muskrat is trying out sitting in its push up, making small adjustments as some frogs sit on the edge to catch their breakfast. The dragonflies stay far away, flitting around as high as they can, out of the danger zone. The ducks have brought ducklings this time, and the little ones are happily splashing around, letting out tiny little quacks of joy at this new freedom. The eglets seem to be watching them fondly. Perhaps they’re thinking about having little birdies of their own, now that they found a pond they agree on.
You wipe a few tears as you stare out at the pond, a smile growing on your face. Maybe your pond is weird, compared to others. Maybe all this would be even better with some turtles.
But right now, it doesn’t need them. This, right now, is perfect. There’s no need to change it.
After all, [[why fix what isn’t broken?->Best End]]
It’s a tough call, certainly. You thought everything was fine. But you don’t have much experience with ponds. Maybe the pond’s okay without turtles now, but it’ll fall apart in a few months without them. Maybe the animals really would be happier and healthier with turtles. Now that the idea’s in your head, it’s hard to ignore it. It’s worth a try, at least, right?
Finally, you nod to your grandpa. He smiles.
“It’ll be even better with the turtles. [["You’ll see.”->NTY 2]]
Jerry comes the next morning, with a big cage and four turtles. He opens the cage, and lets them slowly walk towards the pond.
The other animals seem wary, at best. The frogs leap to the other side of the pond as soon as they see them. The birds stare, occasionally cawing at them.The muskrat seems to be pointedly ignoring them. The turtles make their way into the pond regardless, and everyone seems to calm a bit when they see how slow they are and how peaceful they seem.
You let out a breath of relief, and Grandpa throws an arm around your shoulders.
“See? Nothing to worry about. Your pond’s going to be better than ever, now.”
Maybe he’s right. Everything [[seems->NTY 3]] to be fine, after all.
You think you’re imagining things at first. With so many bigger animals in the pond now, maybe the lack of frogs is just an illusion.
But you’re quickly and horrifically corrected when you spot a turtle snap up a frog one day.
You try not to panic, though. Circle of life, right? The turtles are just restoring the natural order, that’s all. It’s only been a week, no need to freak out [[yet->NTY 4]].
The second week isn’t promising, though. The turtles and birds are the ones fighting now, over egg space. They’re stepping on each other’s eggs, snapping at each other, and the noise of their fighting is almost unbearable.
This will all smooth over, you tell yourself. Once everyone gets used to each other, everything will be fine. [[Surely.->NTY 5]]
The turtles all gang up on the muskrat, and tears fill your eyes as you watch it leave and the turtles settle into its home.
He’ll be back, you [[think.->NTY 6]] This is just an awkward transition phase.
Soon, there are only turtles and bugs.
And soon after that, the turtles leave to find food.
Your pond has become nothing more than a mosquito attractor.
You tell yourself it was [[doomed->Bad End]] from the start. You have to.
Because you can’t possibly face the alternative.
''Worst End''
[[Credits->Credits]]
[[Restart->Title]]''Good End''
[[Credits->Credits]]
[[Restart->Title]]''Bad End''
[[Credits->Credits]]
[[Restart->Title]]