It's Your Fantasy - the rest!

Name: Mama Mel

Age: 65 earth years; 506 Stullvanian years
Earthly occupation: Owner of Mama Mel's bar and grill in Blackwater, Louisiana where the weather is hot and the food is hotter. (But the black rum drinks are cold.)
Stullvania occupation: Healer to the outlaw ancients, which was illegal on the planet Stull. That was why she was exiled to earth 60 years ago and stole the body of a pretty 40 year old bartender. She aged well in her new body.

" What da' ya want now, bailiff. You don't fool me for a moment sittin' thar in those human things. Come to check on the place?" Mel slid into the booth across from the slit- eyed constable from Stull, touching his scaled hand briefly. "You are too obvious here. Look like a damn 'gator," she snarled quietly. "Kinda stick out, don't cha?"

"Madam," the constable hissed, "intelligence reported that you have illicitly plied your trade on these poor wretched creatures. Have you not healed some of these, uh, bipeds? " Its tongue flicked out to taste the air and withdrew quickly, causing a crease to appear in its scaly head. It's protrusion of a snout flared and then closed.

"Don't smell too good, eh?" Mama drawled as she lazily pushed an ice-cold black rum toward him. "Want to try this, you might enjoy the taste after your long, long travels." She smiled and leaned back against the back of the wooden bench. "So what if I share a little kindness to these purr creatures. Theys don't live long nohow. Fragile they is." A soft laugh rumbled from her chest.

"Ah, spirit-woman, you jest." The bailiff lifted the foreign object a few inches from the table and its narrow tongue splashed into the thick dark liquid. "This is illegal, you know." Its eyes narrowed to a squint and continued to lap the dark rum into its mouth. The creamy liquid spilled from the glass onto the table top and it licked delicately at the wayward fluid.

"Another?" she asked softly. A new drink appear in front of the creature and again it dipped its snout into the fluid. Another tumbler appeared, then another. The glass seemed to refill itself, almost like magic. Mama watched the bailiff until at last its scaly head dropped on the table.

Mama rose slowly from the booth and sighed loudly, shaking her head. “Bus boy,” she yelled, “come clean up this trash.” Then, she walked away.

Tommi Girl, the "bus boy" slouched out of the kitchen carrying a big tub, looked at the pile of green slime smoking on the table top, and turned aside. "What the heck is this?" she grouched.

"Oh, just some trash left behind. Spray it down with bleach and it will dissolve in a few." Mama tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the main bar.

Tommi swung around and looked at the table in disgust. Shaking her head, she sprayed the entire booth down with a Clorox solution, as required by the Louisiana State Department of Health and Environment, then stood back and watched as the green slime misted into oblivion. What was left of the remaining cloth shriveled into a mushy pile of chemicals.


The odor of the mist rising from the tabletop, however, was not unpleasant, almost like the sterile smell of a hospital ward. Not unlike that sanitized environment she had escaped from a few short months ago. Well, she thought, not exactly a hospital. An insane asylum. A wretched place where she was locked up because she couldn't remember who she was and swore she came from Zarthrum, a planet far, far away. Or maybe it was the bizarre behavior at the little McDonald's in Cobhill that got her arrested and detained for two days before she was committed.

Tommi wiped up the last of the pile of chemicals, gave the table another good cleaning, and then swept up the pile of dust under the table. She turned back to Mama who was wiping down the bar and narrowed her eyes.

Mama moved slowly and methodically down the bar, her plump arms experienced and efficient at the task before her. She felt Tommi's eyes boring down on her and she purposely continued her task, humming softly to herself and smiling. Patience was a virtue; this young one had much to learn.

Mama finished her task, plopped the rag in the bucket of Clorox water and stored it in a cabinet in the back. When she returned to the front bar, Tommi was sitting at the end with her head in her hands. Her thick, purple hair spilled forward covering her face. Sniffles could be heard clear across the room and M leaned her heavy body against the bar across from her and touched the top of her head. Mama said: "Honey, you want a pale beer?"

Mama finished her task, plopped the rag in the bucket of Clorox water and stored it in a cabinet in the back. When she returned to the front bar, Tommi was sitting on a bar stool at the end with her head in her hands. Her thick, purple hair spilled forward covering her face. Sniffles could be heard clear across the room and M leaned her heavy body against the bar across from her and touched the top of her head. Mama said: "Honey, you want a pale beer?"

Tommi looked up, her normally brown eyes swirled in shades of iridescent purple. The black irises of her eyes were stained deep red and moisture glistened at the edges of her eyes. "Mama, you know I'm not old enough." She sighed and ran her finger around in a circle on the bar top. Little traces of light flicked behind her finger tip Mama's thick hand clapped her hand down and leaned closer. "Don't start a fire, Tom, and yes you are old enough. You are almost 150 years old and just because you look twenty don’t mean you can't handle it."

"Mama, I just wanna go home."

Mama Mel's Bar and Grill sat back from a little two-lane blacktop highway that meandered along the southern part of Louisiana, only a quarter mile from the oil company's canals in the bayous. The single story building was nestled against a small canal and was surrounded by shade trees that cut the burning Louisiana sun. Behind the low building, a raised deck dotted with patio tables and chairs overlooked the canal. A small sign on the railing warned customers of the 'gators in the canal.

Later: 4:00 PM



The waitresses arrived at 3:00 P. M. sharp to prepare for the supper crowd. At 4:00 P. M. the doors were opened to let out the aroma of deep fried alligator strips and racks of ribs rubbed with Cajun spices and then slowly pit smoked. Only Mama Mel knew what went into the rub recipe and how long to smoke the ribs. The dinner special on this particular Friday night was a choice of blackened chicken breasts or deep fried fat back and pork rinds served with crisp 'tater fries sprinkled liberally with spicy Tabasco salt. Tommi had personally roasted the chicken and porkies on her little burning spree earlier in afternoon.

Dock workers, rough necks (oil rig workers ), pipeline workers, and workers from the sugar cane fields and rice fields frequented Mama Mel's after their shift, drifting in groups of five or six men grubby from their labor. Some worked 12 hour shifts; others worked 4 on/3 off on the rigs; others sun up to sun down every day depending on the weather and the crops. Blue color workers most of them, looking for a cool place and a cool brew, somewhere to unwind and tell their tall tales of the swamps in the rhythmic cadence of the deep south.

Mama served a variety of beers in the afternoons. Pale beers for the light-hearted field hands; the darker beers for those rough necks and dock workers. She saved the special stuff for after 10 P.M: Dark rum coolers for those less inclined to be friendly.
Tommi was busy busing a table after some of her customers left her section of the dining area. She smiled as she pocketed the $20.00 tip one of the dock workers left under his plate. Sometimes it pays to flirt, but she was always evasive when a customer tried to get her telephone number

Tommi held her pad and pencil ready to take the order from the latest group that arrived. She knew Bran and his girlfriend. They were a cute couple, but Bran was a little strange. The other two, she thought one was called Jerry, were huddled with their heads together over an old map that appeared to be outdated. Their beer glasses were nearly empty.

"Tonight's special is blackened chicken and seasoned fries," Tommi said brightly. "We also have our usual fare and I actually cooked the porkies, so they're extra crispy. Check out the board," She pointed over her shoulder. "You want pale beer to start out with?" she asked Bran. Then she looked at Jerry, "Want a refill or pitcher?"

Jerry grunted and Robert glanced up from the map. "Nah," Robert mumbled, "I want a burger."

Tommi just stared at him. Burgers weren't on the menu tonight

Tommi cleared away the dishes at Marla and Bran's table. Jerry and Robert were still huddled over the map, slugging down the last of their beers. As Tommi placed their meal tab on the table, she looked at Marla. "Marla, did you want anything else tonight? Looks like you enjoyed the fries. Maybe you could get Bran to bring you in more often."

Marla laughed lightly and winked at Tommi as she picked up the tab. "Thanks, Tommi, but I'm full. At the rate these guys eat, I'll have to take a second job." She gently elbowed Bran and walked with Tommi up to the cash register where Mama Mel was ringing out the customers. "Truth is, I love that guy, but he's got some strange friends."


Mama Mel looked up at Marla and took the ticket from her, then looked at Tommi and smiled like a big Cheshire Cat. "Don't we all!" Mama crowed.

Mama Mel smiled a little and pulled up a chair by Robert. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. "You know, Robert, that I haven't repeated this story since I came to... er, opened this bar about 25 years ago. In fact, my Nana gave me many of the recipes I use here, only here, when I serve up Mexican.

"Nana says, when I was jus' a wee little girl, that the Frenchies were on the run after that Seven Years War. You all know it as the French and Indian War, but it was before the U. S. of A. got born. As part of reparations, the Frenchies gave Spain everything wes' of the Mississippi, including New Orleans. Well, some of the French sympathizers in Orleans was on da run 'n buried a chest of gold somewhere down by Live Oak, 'long the Old Man. Said they'd picked the tallest oak down there and buried it." Mama leaned back, "BUT, you know it prob' floated away on down to the Gulf. Seein' that we don't bury nothin' down here 'cause, you know, we are just floatin' on water."

Mama pushed herself from the table, stood up and laughed. "Glad you liked your dinner. You come back, you all welcome here anytime!" She turned to go and said over her shoulder. "Luck is with ya!"


Tommi looked suspiciously at Mama Mel and put her hand on her hip. Her vibrant purple hair hung across one eye, leaving only the narrow slit of the other glaring at her employer. "I can't believe you told those poor smucks that tall tale." She huffed and threw down her pad and pencil on the bar.

Mama looked at Tommi. "You know, dear child, that this body belonged to a very intelligent earth person. She has memories of her Nana that she shares with me and what she told me was true."

Mama turned and rang out the last customer for the night and then turned back to Tommi. "I don't think you realize how lucky you are to share a bi-pedal body. At least the girl was willing and you didn't have to take her by force." She paused. "Mine, on the other hand, was close to dying and was reluctant I gave her a choice and now she is thankful I was there at the right time."

Tommi frowned. "Dying? Really? What happened? You never said how you came to be her"

Mama Mel busied herself for a few minutes with the remaining waitresses as they divided up the nights tips and were paid cash for their wages. As they left through the front door, Mama scurried over and locked the door behind them and then shut out the main lights. Returning to Tommi she touched her arm and said softly. "Melanie was 40 years years old and a real looker. On the night I showed up, she was just closing up and an old boyfriend came in. She told me they argued and he shot her, left her to bleed out. When I walked in, her wraith was just beginning to form over her. So I took her body, saved her life. Been together ever since. I think it's been 60 some years."

"What happened to the old boyfriend?"



Mama Mel flipped off the chiller unit and cranked up the thermostat on the furnace, even though it was still 87 degrees with a 98 percent humidity outside. It was 11:30 PM. She ignored Tommi's question for a moment and then turned to her friend.
Tommi settled herself on a bar stool. The back door opened and a giant orange tabby cat walked in. Tommi gasped.
"What? Never saw a Tom cat before?" he asked. "Can't a guy get a drink without getting harassed?" The tabby settled itself on the bar stool next to Tommi and flexed his claws, grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the bar top and then tossed them into his mouth.

Tommi stared at the mouth of the mutant cat, those long shiny teeth seemed extraordinarily long and menacing. The droopy whiskers looked like a mustache, waxed and curled at the ends in curlicues, and his fur, oh my. His fur was thick and smooth, covering a torso that was muscular and almost attractive. Tommi gulped. The animal, if that's what it was, was six foot long, tall, whatever, and sat erect on the stool. Her eyes drifted downward, but stopped at the waist of the trousers. Soft tan clashed with the orange fur. Tommi quickly turned her eyes back to the drink on the bar. 'What the hell,' she thought. Her cheeks flushed.

As Tommi continued to stare at her drink, her mind rapidly flicked from one romantic scene to another. 'What is wrong with this human body,' she thought. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, her thick purple locks slapping at her face.

Mama Mel started wiping the bar in front of her and asked if anything was wrong. Tommi didn't hear her comment, but the Tom cat did. He smiled to himself and sniffed the air. Pheromones alright, the little lassie was nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. He chuckled to himself at the thought and quickly downed his drink. Mel reached for the glass and the cat nodded for a refill.

It was just past midnight and a steady stream of "people" poured through the back door. The jukebox belted out a jaunty Cajun tune, a mixture of blues/rhythm and blues, in that slightly nasal language that was a combination of French and really bad English and then was peppered with yee-haw yells. In the dim light of the bar, folks were doing the Cajun two-step and the Lake Charles Slide on the dance floor. It was extremely hot in the bar, the furnace doing its job, but no one seemed to notice.

Mama was busy mixing drinks. No waitresses were on the floor; patrons just came to the bar and ordered directly from Mama Mel. Everyone was patient, knowing this was the only place they could come at night and feel like they had a somewhat normal existence. Empty drink glasses were placed back in the kitchen area; Mama trusted her special customers.

Tommi slid off the bar stool and went to the back to stack drink glasses in the automatic washer. The machine clanked and ran, only ten or fifteen minutes and the giant washer would be finished. Tommi didn't hear the man-cat approach her from behind, but when he touched her shoulder she whirled around in surprise.

"Did I frighten you?" the tall tabby asked. He stepped back a bit. "I'm sorry if I was rude." He purred softly, the rumble deep in its orange chest. The eyes of the tabby were golden, the pupil was dilated in the low light.

"Uh, no. Just a little surprised." Tommi said. "I'm sorry if I stared. First time we had a cat here during the late hours." Tommi shifted her weight a little and stepped back. She had to look up at the animal that towered over her.

"Ummmm, can I buy you a drink then?"



"I'm sorry, I have to work. I'm the only help Mel keeps for this late crowd." Tommi opened the hood of the giant automatic dishwasher and the steam billowed out. She stepped back and looked at the cat-man. "If you don't mind, I can join you after I get the next load in."

"I'll do one better," the cat laughed. "I'll bring it back here so we can talk. What do you favor?"

"Just an iced tea. I'm parched and I need to stay alert to help Mama Mel. One of those bottled diet peach things would be fine. Thank you." Tommi turned back to the task at hand as the cat-man went to get their drinks.

After Tommi was finished with the glasses, she found the man-cat sitting in a corner booth with a drink sitting opposite. She slid into the booth and sipped on the iced tea. It was cool and soothing to her parched throat. The man-cat smiled broadly, his canine teeth nipping at his lower lip and the mustache twitched.

"May I ask a personal question?" Tommi asked. The man-cat raised his glass and winked, which startled Tommi into a smile. "Ummm, how did you get to the size you are?"

The man-cat sipped on his drink and then put it down. "I have a name, it is Cassanova, but you can call me Cass, Tommi." He leaned back and his eyes widened. "Actually, I was a normal sized cat. Feral. Had a mate and I was looking for her. I was checking out the garbage tins in the zoo, thinking she might be there. Her favorite place. A big shadow passed over me. I was told later it was a big dragon named Ember dumped some Mutagen all over the place and here I am. Walk upright, talk like a man, look like a cat." His smile reminded Tommi of the Cheshire cat. Well, orange tabby.

Tommi stared at her drink, then looked the man-cat in the eyes. Her amber eyes dilated and sparkled, rotated wildly and then coalesced into deep purple. "You know, Cass," she said softly. "there are many oddities here in Blackwater, Louisiana. You might consider settling around here I'm sure your mate will show up here." She paused. "Eventually." She blushed slightly and smiled.

The man-cat's eyes narrowed and he studied her. "Are you sure you can handle my presence?" He reached across and touched her hand that lingered on her drink glass. "I detect a subtle attraction from you."

Tommi gasped and withdrew her hand from his touch.

Her eyes bore into his yellow orbs. "Look, Cass, I'm not at least interested in you. I'm here on this blessed planet, not by choice, but for the duration until I can get home. Then I can leave this human body behind."
"So, you are going home. Leaving your husk here to rot after you vacate." Cass snarled under his breath. "Do you know you will kill your host? I've seen it happened. You integrated with your host and when you leave, she is done. It's an awful thing to do. How can you live with yourself."
His eyes soften. "Would you rethink that, young one?"
Tommi's mouth went dry and then started to respond when Mama Mel rushed up to their booth. Mama was breathing hard and sweating profusely. "Tommi girl, I need your help now!" she gasped. "Quit flirting with this tom cat and get busy." She briskly turned away and disappeared again.
Tommi gulped. "Excuse me, Cass." and then slid out of the booth and followed in Mel's direction.
Cass shook his head. "No, I don't think we're finished, pretty thing."
~
Tommi busied herself with shuttling drinks to those who were unable to "hold" them. 'Odd characters,' she thought. ' why didn't they take a human host.' She stuffed straws into the glasses after she sat the drinks in front of two flying Asian Silver carp fish-men. She shuttered as the glassy eye of the largest of the two rolled and focused on her chest. Its gills fluttered loudly, but Tommi hurried away before it could speak.

"Darn it, Mama," she groused. "Why do you let those things in here?" She scuffed her shoes vigorously on the floor to remove the watery slime she stepped in.

Mama Mel peered at her with narrowed eyes. "And just where do you think they would go to relax? What makes you any different?"

July 10, 2016. This is rather long. However, I decided to put it all together in one place. It is not finished, but I had fun!
Gma Vicky.