By Klax Zlubzecon
Translated by George Hyde
George’s schedule this semester is the weirdest it’s ever been. It’s basically left him with zero time of his own, and what little time of his own he has left is often spent studying, or working on assignments.
However, he and I are finally catching a break when we depart for Pennsylvania to meet with relatives this week.
As we type this, we still have a couple days to pack. But as you read this, we’re already there, greeting the folks. The Northern Light’s deadlines are really, really strange like that.
Now, I’ve already been on vacation, just a couple short months ago, during winter break. While George stayed in, I traveled the world and scouted for potential invasion points. New York seems particularly potent — maybe that’s why so many movies show New York getting decimated by aliens or zombies or monsters or whatever.
But this is my first real venture into small-town America. George’s mother grew up in a tiny community in the middle of Appalachia, and that’s where we’re headed. While George can’t wait to see the folks, I anticipate being thoroughly bored by the experience. Two weeks surrounded by the same quiet people, in a small quiet town? I don’t want quiet! George does, but that’s because he’s been working to the bone! Meanwhile, while he’s off getting stressed at his classes, he’s left me at home with the dog, who is equally bored. George has hardly been there for me lately, and the few days I get to finally hang out and vacation with him, it’s in a quiet and dry neighborhood in the middle of nowhere.
George can’t wait. He’s needed a bit of peace and quiet. But do you see what you’ve done to me this semester, George? I’m restless! I need adventure, not boring family get-togethers!
Sigh … I don’t care if it’s been almost four years since George has last traveled out of state. I need to be doing stuff. I’m bored.
And don’t tell me I can help pack if I’m bored, George. I don’t have arms or legs. I’m a slug. You’re my main means of lifting and doing stuff.
I suppose it’s between boring family stuff and staying home, and if I stay home, my only means of entertainment will be sitting on the couch Netflix-ing random movies. So fine, I guess I’ll go meet the folks. Why not?
And really, I could stand to meet some new friends. Aside from George, and you, my loving fans, I don’t really socialize that much. Most of my socialization is done through George, and really, aside from this column, he does about 90 percent of the work.
The softer side of me wants to say yes, I do want to meet George’s family. I didn’t really have much of a family back home with the fleet — at least, not in the sense that you humans talk about family. I could look at it optimistically and say that the whole Slug race is my family, because of our hive mind, but really, George could say the same thing about the human race, and it still doesn’t mean much. I didn’t really have a mother or father or any relatives, because I was born asexually.
In the human sense, the only family I really have is George, and he’s been working hard away from me all semester. To tell the truth, I actually kind of appreciate being able to meet new people.
Who knows? They could even be nice. George has fond memories of them from way back in the day, when he was a young lad. It’s been ages since he’s been with them — at least, in the real world. He still communicates with them online, of course.
In fact, it’s been a long enough time since he last visited them to make their old small-town feel really nostalgic for him. Maybe the old candy store is still there. Maybe it’s still run by the same guy.
Nostalgia’s a strange thing. For me, the old small town of Montoursville, Pennsylvania, is just that: another boring, old small town. For George, it’s where his extended family has been since he was a kid. And for George’s mother, it’s home.
I guess I won’t know about it until I go. Until then:
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. EMBRACE THE SEAWOLF SLUG.