Faye didn’t really want to tell her parents what had happened. She didn’t want to get the lemurian into too much trouble—maybe he hadn’t meant to scare her like that. But she had always been a terrible liar, so it didn’t take long before she gave in and blurted out the whole story. Tears sprang to her eyes, though she didn’t know why—it all must have shaken her more than she realized.

Her parents took the situation very seriously. Her mother especially wanted to know exactly what had happened. Was Faye really sure the lemurian she had seen today had been the same one as yesterday, she asked. Was she sure she could tell difference between these folk?

So Faye explained, describing this particular lemurian, while she sipped the tea with milk and honey her father had prepared for her. This lemurian had an actual hairdo, she said, unlike others. He wore this denim overall and he was taller than other lemurians, and his name was Johnny, she concluded.

Her parents looked at each other. Johnny? That’s an awfully regular name for a lemurian, they reckoned.

“Well, what are lemurians normally called?” asked Faye.

Neither her father nor mother knew. Nobody really ever talked to lemurians.

Tossing and turning in her bed that night, Faye heard her parents argue about what steps to take. Her mother wanted her father to go to the police in the morning. “You saw how shaken your daughter seemed,” she insisted. But no, her father didn’t think that was necessary; there was no telling what the police would do to the lemurian, who was probably just a silly teenage lemurian playing a dumb game, he said.

This was perhaps the first time Faye had heard her parents disagree about anything more serious than what to have for supper or whose turn it was to walk the dog (and they hadn’t had a dog for years).

Faye’s friends, and, in fact, Faye’s friends’ parents, would often joke about it: how her father and mother still seemed to be so very much in love, like a couple of giddy schoolkids. But Faye had long ago decided that these people were probably simply a bit jealous. Sure, it seemed sort of goofy at times, seeing two grown-ups doting on each other like that, but it was mostly just very nice, and it made Faye suspect all those songs on the radio about eternal love and about meeting your soulmate weren’t completely make believe, though you would think they were seeing how regular adults treated each other.

Thinking these nice thoughts about her parents calmed her down, and she finally fell asleep.

It had been two weeks now, and Faye hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the lemurian, and not for want of looking for him. She actively tried finding lemurians. Not just Johnny, but also other lemurians. An odd fascination had been awoken in her, and she realized just how little she actually knew about them.

She knew they originally came from some island near Africa (“Madagascar,” Patty said). She remembered being told in history class how, according to the Theory of Evolution, people came from apes and lemurians came from a type of monkey living on Madagascar, called lemurs. And she knew they were treated real badly when they were discovered by humans, much like the American Indians were. There were supposedly very few of them left and they were spread all over the world (“living in diaspora,” said Patty, who had a knack for remembering words nobody really used).

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Patty joined her in her quest for lemurians.

Faye had of course told her everything: she had known Pats since they could crawl and they were practically sisters.

One would rarely see lemurians in town, and Patty knew that most lemurians worked during nightshifts in factories or in abattoirs, and returned home in the morning. So Faye and Patty got up real early a couple of times and walked around town before school started when the sun had freshly risen.

The first morning they spotted one covered in soot from head to toe, walking wretchedly towards the outskirts of town, where the lemurians were said to live in shacks among the Mexicans.

A few days later they saw a small lemurian digging through dumpsters and finding some stale loafs of bread. Patty believed this was a small female lemurian, and they followed her for quite some time. They couldn’t guess how old this girl lemurian was; did lemurians grow at the same rate as humans, or did they grow up real quick, like dogs? So little did they know about these creatures.

Now that she had closely watched several lemurians for the first time in her life (she supposed she had had the habit of looking away before this), she realized how Johnny hadn’t only been taller, but his face also differed from other lemurians. His face had been less pointed, less ‘foxlike’. Johnny’s face had been more humanlike, she believed, and his expression had been soft, almost shy.

“God!” she thought, she already called him ‘Johnny’ in her mind, like he was an old friend! Ha-ha!

She now understood why Patty had always thought the lemurians were so sad. It didn’t seem fair to have to live life like this.

The more she felt like this, the more terrible Faye started to feel about herself telling on Johnny.

Her father had told her the police had taken care of the matter. What did they do? She asked, but he said he didn’t know. He wouldn’t bother her again he said.

She didn’t ask her father again after that. She didn’t want him to think she had some queer obsession with the lemurian. Even though she did, clearly, to her own confusion. Very queer indeed.

“Jeez Louise! What the heck is the matter with you, Faye?” asked Claudette, loudly, so everyone could hear. You’re acting like a complete cornball lately! You’re not in love are you?!”

“What, l-love?” spluttered Faye stunned. She could feel the blood starting to throb through the veins in her neck, her head getting hot and her face started glowing—oh dear, there was no way of stopping that.

Claudette laughed at her red face. “You are!” she shrieked.

Faye had told Patty all about the lemurian, of course, but not Claudette; and had instructed Patty not to tell Claudette. Claudette was a blabbermouth and would most certainly make a lot of fun of her. Not because she was mean, but she just really enjoyed having a laugh.

“Is it Kenneth?” Claudette asked, still at the top of her voice. “Or Randy?” she asked, simply naming names of the boys that were part of the group.

The teens had just been hanging out, goofing off, after school.

The other kids laughed with Claudette and at Faye’s flushed face and the boys started joking amongst themselves about it.

Faye took hold of Claudette’s sweater and pulled her aside, which made the other kids laugh and jeer even harder. Faye looked back over her shoulder and locked eyes with Patty, who looked anxious and whose face had turned red as well, on Faye’s account. Pats was truly the best of friends!

There and then she told Claudette all about the situation. She wasn’t quite sure why she told her. Was it just to prove that no, she was not in love, thank you very much?

Later she would think to herself that she should have just let Claudette think that, sure, she was in love with Kenneth or Randy or whoever. There was no denying she had been acting like a cornball (seriously, getting up early to stalk lemurians? What normal person does that?), at least being in love with some boy would explain her cornballery.

So, practically in one breath, she told Claudette about the lemurian. Omitting the fact he had actually introduced himself to her as Johnny. She would never hear the end of that.

When Faye had finished, Claudette told her, “I’ll tell Spencer to ask his uncle about it. He’s a policeman, he’ll know.”

“God no, I don’t want everyone to know about it, don’t tell Spencer!” Faye tried, knowing full well there was no stopping Claudette now.

“Why the heck don’t you want anyone to know about this? It’s not like you did anything wrong, is it?”

“Well, no,” Faye supposed. She hoped not. She sure hoped the lemurian hadn’t been hurt because of her.