by Vanessa Rebello
In the ice-town of Kotsov, nestled on the tip of planet Earth, Shquijo saw the strangest thing to ever have been. The town’s wisest and bravest assembled at the town centre, sat around this strange phenomenon, and wondered what to do.
“Tell me what happened,” said Kali, the town’s Eldest. “Start at the beginning.”
“See,” Shquijo began, adjusting his loin cloth – the only garment the men of Kotsov wore. “I was taking Chippo out for a walk earlier today and I decided to get him some ice cream.”
Chippo, his hungry four-year-old son, was in the arms of his mother, being told very sternly that if he licked the ground his tongue would get stuck to it.
Everyone huddled together to get a better look at the topic of discussion. It looked pretty normal, white and round placed neatly on a concave rock of ice, except for one thing - it was turning soft, almost liquidy, and slowly leaking off the rock that held it.
“Ice cream is supposed to be hard. It's meant to be solid. What’s happening to this one?” asked one of the men.
“I don’t know,” said another. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
They mumbled amongst themselves, discussing the unforeseen spectacle, speculating about its causes.
“It looks like its dying,” said someone.
“It must be the work of the aliens,” said the town fool.
“There’s no such thing! Stop talking nonsense,” Kali chided him. But this was not the first time he had spoken about these 'aliens'. “They’re just like us,” he had once said, “except that they’re covered in garments for some strange reason. Wrapped up like babies - from head to toe.” He claimed they came to some distant parts of their land, collected samples of the ground and went away. The town dwellers scolded him for telling lies. “This is the coldest spot on Earth,” they would say. “The rest of this planet is too hot for human beings! Our bodies are not made for such hot weather, everybody knows that. Stop being a moron. There's no life outside Kotsov.”
The fool knew that if he continued his banter the townsmen would banish him with The Others. And so, very wisely, he learnt to keep his trap shut.
“Maybe the Gods are angry with us,” said one of the women. Other worshippers nodded; it was a possibility, but there weren’t enough believers to back up their theory.
“I know!” said Shquijo, “It’s those damn idiots from the other end of the town.”
“The Others?” someone said. "Those nutcases just spend their time looking for aliens. They're not really harmful."
“That's what you think,” said another man. “I've heard they made contact."
"With aliens?"
"And they've found a way to turn the ground into liquid!”
“What?”
“Oh no! That’s terrible.”
"Penguin shit! That's not possible.”
“How can they do that?”
“What’s solid is solid, and what’s liquid is liquid," said Kali. "Only nature can convert the two.”
“No, Mr. Kali, it's true,” said Shquijo, “I heard about this too.” Everybody agreed. Indeed, the rumour had been making the rounds.
“Holy mother of Popsicles! Do you think they’re going to turn the entire planet into liquid?!”
“How dare they? First they kill the ice cream, then they kill the entire planet?”
"No, no, they're not killing anything," said Kali, but no one was paying attention to him anymore.
“We must stop them,” said Shquijo.
“But they won’t listen. They’ve never listened to us.”
“What about the children? There’ll be nothing left for them,” said a woman, referring to both the planet and the ice cream.
Their voices grew louder, their hearts filled with anger. What about the children? They couldn't let The Others destroy their future. If they wouldn't listen to reason, they had other cold-hearted methods.
"No," said Kali. "Stop this insanity." But no one paid heed to the old man anymore.
“We’ve got to do something before it’s too late,” said Shquijo. “Gather your clubs, men. This is going to get ugly.”
And so the Kotsovians decided they weren't about to sit back and watch their planet being turned to liquid. The men of Kotsov gathered their weapons and the women of Kotsov gathered their pots and pans; different to look at, yet all made of ice. They brought along their neighbours. They gathered the numbers. Slogans were shouted. Curses were chanted.
“Save our children!”
“Stop The Others!”
“Save the planet!”
“Kill them all!”
They charged to the far end of the town, screaming their battle cries, swishing their icicles. Blood would be shed. Bodies would be scattered.
“WAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!!”
Kali sat at the town center, wishing his townsmen hadn't been such fools. Little Sheebo sat beside the old man. Bored and hungry, he gently guided his tongue over the ice cream that shouldn’t have melted.
‘Mmmm...’ he thought. ‘Tastes much better this way.’
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