An Exclusive Interview with a Grey Kacheek

     But the interviewee was running late. And Baila the Blue Blumaroo was not good at waiting. She waved down the waiter, a large slumbering Red Grarrl. “Another Candy Corn Latte, quickly please!” she blurted out, well aware that she might have come across as rude. The Grarrl nodded and slowly turned back towards the front of the store, his tail almost knocking over an empty chair as he twisted.

     This was Baila’s last chance. Her first attempt at a column, “The Many Different Flavors of Chia Pops” had failed miserably. Her editor, a Fire Gnorbu, claimed that he had never read an article less interesting. Or that garnered fewer views. She could still see his eyes burning red flames as he scolded her. She shuddered.

     Just then a plump, grey form plopped up on the stool across from her. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching, and her heart skipped a beat. “Hello, I’m Baila” she managed to squeak out.

     The Grey Kacheek lifted his head and blinked at her slowly. “Hi there,” he said. “You’re the one who asked to interview me, right? I’m Garthomofor. But you can call me Garth.”

     Raindrops dripped slowly down his long ears and hit the ground with a soft PAT, PAT, PAT. Garth continued to look at her with his light blue eyes. “I couldn’t have picked a gloomier day to interview this pet,” she thought, but considering his disposition it seemed quite fitting.

     Baila fumbled with her audio recorder, finally finding the record button. “Do you mind?” she asked. Garth nodded, and she clicked the start button.

     The Red Grarrl approached the table and stood between them. “Your Latte,” he said. “Anything for you, sir? Our special today is the Creamy Sweet Potato Soup. And if you’re not hungry, the drink list is in front of you. We have the best selection in all of Neopia.”

     “No thank you,” Garth replied calmly. “This water is fine for me.” He took a sip, and the Grarrl walked away snarling. Baila wasn’t sure if he was irritated or just being a typical Grarrl.

     “So, what is it you want to know?” Garth asked. He set his water glass down and rested his paws on the table.

     Baila breathed in and folded up her notes. Leaning over the side of the chair, she put them gently in her bag and sat back up. She wanted this to feel like a conversation more than an interview, but now she was struggling to remember her questions. It took longer than she would have liked before she could think of what to ask. Garth kept his eyes fixed on her, patient, yet sombre.

     “What makes you happy?” she finally asked. She almost sort of whispered the question, as she had been holding her breath thinking of what to say. A far cry from her calling out to the waiter earlier.

     Garth looked back down at the table. The white fluff tip of his tail rose up momentarily, then lazily rested itself back down, hanging from the side of the chair like a cotton earring. “Happy…” he said quietly to himself, like he was trying to understand the question.

     “Well, I was a lab rat once, and like all of us, lived many different lives. I remember I was a mutant for a while, then a baby. I was even turned into sand during the Lost Desert plot.” Garth’s eyes almost lit up for a second, and then went quiet again.

     Baila nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s focus on that part, I’ve noticed you have spent a lot of time in the Battledome and Training School.” She remembered that from her notes, but she hadn’t pegged it as a talking point. She was pleased he brought it up.

     “Yeah,” Garth said, “through it all, through all the years, I’ve always been a fighter. I’ve fought in wars and plots, helping change the course of Neopia’s history. I’ve fought for fun, trying to improve my techniques and figure out which weapons I like. I’ve fought bosses, goons, friends, strangers…”

     “And what always brings you back to the fight?” Baila felt bad that she cut him off, but she was getting excited again. The uneasy anxiety had melted off of her. She was energized by the story of this little, sad-looking creature.

     “I, I’m not sure. I guess when it comes down to it I…” Garth paused. He turned and looked out the window, up into the sky, seeing the rain had stopped. Baila hadn’t even noticed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Garth. Garth slowly returned his gaze to her. “When it comes down to it, I think I just like to get better. I like to improve, every day if I can. I know I’m not perfect, but every stat I gain, every win I accumulate… I feel a little bit closer. A little bit closer to being complete, being whole, to finally achieving… something.” As his voice trailed off, he glanced down at his water cup and started to fiddle with it.

     Baila froze for a second, shocked that she found a way to break his icy front and cut to the heart of his motivation. “Well, I think you’re a pretty perfect pet, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. But I know what you mean. I do the same thing with my writing, my goal is that every piece I write is better than the last.” She noticed that the sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds now, almost like it was eavesdropping on the conversation. Garth followed her gaze and looked up at the sky again, squinting his eyes and covering up his face with one of his paws.

     Garth then looked from the sky back over to Baila. His eyes were bright again, and he almost seemed to smile slightly. “Thank you,” he said, “sometimes our feelings seem unique. Like we’re the only ones who truly understand. But I suppose improvement is really all we can strive for in this life. A way to measure our growth and to stave off the helplessness that multiplies as we watch the years tick away.”

     Baila blinked. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right,” she finally said. Her recorder sounded an abrupt CLICK, it had run out of tape. “Well, it looks like that’s all the time I have for you, Garth. I’ll let you go. Thanks so much for talking with me - you can look for the article to come out next week.”

     Garth nodded. “You’re welcome, it’s always nice to find someone who is willing to listen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting with some Ninja masters. But if you ever want to talk again, let me know. This has been… pleasant.” Garth’s look went cold again, as he nodded at her politely and sauntered away.