The Runners

“Welcome to The Pulse. I’m your host, Olivia Swanson, and today we have with us Mr. Clark, and he has an incredible story to share. Isn’t that right, Mr. Clark?”

“What’s that ya say?”

“I said, isn’t that right! You have an amazing story to share with us!”

“Yes, you don’t have to yell. I ain’t deaf.”

“Sorry.”

“I done told the story five times already to the young man in the little booth over yonder.”

“I know, Mr. Clark. Please, just one more time, for our viewers at home.”

“Alrighty. Well, my pappy flew a secret space mission back in the 50s to a planet called Vikuska. It’s about 20-some odd light — “

“I’m sorry, did you say Vikoomsa?”

Vikuska. V — I — K — U — S — K — A. Yea, I didn’t name it. Anyhow, it’s about 20 light-years from Earth, and it means ‘runners.’”

“Runners, you say?”

“Am I stutterin’ or somethin’? Yeah, runners. The planet is filled with people who run all over the place, and not like we run here on Earth. I think my pappy clocked one of em’ at 300 mph.”

Laughter breaks out in the studio.

“Why ya all laughin’? This ain’t no joke.”

“Can everyone in the studio please refrain from laughing? Thank you.”

“Please continue, Mr. Clark. I’m sorry.”

“You see, instead of drivin’ everywhere like we do, these folks run. That’s how they get around. But there are also walkers.”

“Walkers?”

“Yes, walkers. Everyone on that planet is born a runner. They peak at around age 20 or so, then move slower and slower as they age, and it ain’t because they get all frail like us. No, that ain’t why they slow down.”

For a moment, Mr. Clark loses his train of thought and forgets where he is.

“Go on, Mr. Clark. You were saying? The walkers?”

“Oh yes. Wait, what did I say last?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘No, that ain’t why they slow down.’”

“Yep, that ain’t why. They slow down because they are bored.”

“Bored?”

‘Yep. By the time they reach their peak, they done seen the whole dang planet already. It ain’t a big planet either. There ain’t nothing else to do!”

“We got a saying here on earth ‘Stop and smell the roses.’ Well, they got something similar there ‘ik nok soju eek ofloks,’ which means, ‘stop and smell the ofloks.’

“Ofloks?”

“Yep.”

“What is an oflok, Mr. Clark?”

“It’s a frog-like creature that stinks something awful; well, to humans, it stinks; to them, well, it smells like roses.”

“So you got a lot of walkers too, and the walkers hate the runners. The walkers are peaceful and just wanna settle down, farm, and take care of their kin.”

“The runners are all uppity-like and in your face all the dang time. They make life a livin’ hell for the walkers. And don’t get me started on the accidents. There are at least ten head-on collisions every day, resulting in at least five casualties a week. “

“My pappy’s good friend, Nokrop, died in his arms after such an accident. My pappy said his last words were, ‘Watch where you’re runnin’! You’re gonna kill someone runnin’ like that!’”

There was about a five-second pause, then Mr. Clark dozed off.

“Well, what happened next!” yelled Millie, the hairdresser, as she snacked on some popcorn she got from the vending machine.

Mr. Clark awakens.

“What happened next, ya say? Oh yeah. Well, after that accident, the walkers were furious. See, Nokrop wasn’t just my pappy’s friend; he was the mayor.”

Suddenly, two men dressed in black suits rush onto the stage and cut the live feed.

“Ok, where is he?”

“Where is who, and who the hell are you?”

“That’s none of your business, ma’am. Where is he? The man you just had on stage with you. Mr. Clark. Where is he?”

“He was here a second ago. Does anyone know what happened to Mr. Clark? And what is that horrible smell?”

“Yeah, he ran outta here like a bat outta hell and told me to take care of his pet.” Said Millie, the hairdresser.

“Ribbit.”