Familiar Friend

FAMILIAR FRIEND

Image Courtesy – kendra coupland on Pexels.com

The feet moved swiftly in the air, a loud sigh and an acrobatic sway landed him straight in front of the Tiger, in an upside-down position; this wasn’t new to him; he now stared at the beast’s upper palate, who too stared back with a tilted head and surprised eyes.

With his body resting on his hands, he approached closer, his body or probably the hands smelled of fish, as the tiger unable to comprehend the source, leaped out his tongue and started licking his shirt, confused about which part of the body it was emanating from.

“I was only fishing buddy, that’s it, I got nothing with me right now,” he murmured as his legs now arched on the other side, while his face almost touched the Tiger’s moustache hair.

“Let’s do it, kid,” he muttered softly, asking his buddy to do what they had been practicing all these months.

The tiger, however, influenced by this sudden aromatic distraction, forgot about the regular practice, preferring to find out where the fish was hiding instead.

“Not now buddy, not now,” he pleaded even as the Tiger continued his futile search for the juicy fish; the stretched body of his, however, waited anxiously for the Tiger to perform its part, and allow for the next performer to take over.

“What’s the matter, why isn’t it moving,” asked one of the staff members staring at the animal and the performer as the crowd clapped even harder expecting something remarkable to happen soon.

“Come on buddy, come on,” the whispers begin to turn into nervous pleas but the Tiger remained absorbed in his search for the hidden present.

“Shall we do something,” asked someone backstage, observing the helpless situation unfolding in front of their eyes.

“They have been performing so effortlessly during their rehearsals, we thought this would be a cakewalk, but this crazy animal is just not willing to move his ass,” muttered one of the men wearing cheap suit and an even cheaper strong perfume.

“Let me prod him with a stick,” he suggested, and quickly brought a long steel rod, feeling the Tiger from behind the huge red curtains.

“Come on buddy,” the performer pleaded as his body began to sweat; the long nerves on his hand and neck swelled thicker, turning visible even to the audience in the back rows, but the Tiger was still feeling his sweaty torso and hands.

A sudden poke from nowhere, however, brought the Tiger’s action to an abrupt halt as he looked around and instinctively pounced on the stick, which was feeling his tail.

And wild instincts quickly took over as he let out a loud roar and found himself suddenly falling flat on the running body of the man wearing the brown suit and the cheap perfume.

The incisors aimed for the neck, as two other people scarily, tried shooing him away.  The sudden commotion created a temporary stampede forcing the performer to run behind to see what was unfolding there.

“Come on buddy, come on, now”, the soothing and familiar voice of the old friend, calmed the wild beast as he turned around to begin to lick him again.

“Put him back in the jungle,” the man in the suit shouted, dragging himself slowly behind the large wooden table as he spoke.