Pig Beach

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Featured Review on this writing by Spyguy

We took Tippi with us on our annual pilgrimage to Pig Beach. Now, before you start pointing fingers at us, assigning culpability, apportioning blame for what happened, let me tell you about Tippi, our dark fairbird.

Tippi was a Strangeling, no ordinary girl...

* Hear Linnea Sage bring Tippi to life on the Is It Love? audio version at: www.isittodayhjfurl.com


Pig Beach!

We took Tippi with us on our annual pilgrimage to Pig Beach. Now, before you start pointing fingers at us, assigning culpability, apportioning blame for what happened, let me tell you about Tippi, our dark, fairbird. Tippi was a Strangeling, no ordinary girl. She might have seemed 21, but that was where, according to the rules of our benign sanctity, her flourish, her bloom into womanhood ended.

In our minds, and in the deeds dictated by our sacred coven, Tippi was required to dress in her Strangeling attire: a flowing white robe, ankle socks, and leather sandals, until she reached the age that we deemed suitable for her to take her chosen man, Aaliyah, our high, lofty, sublime boy, and have children. The same stringent dress code applied to Aal who was required to dress in a similar robe, socks and sandals until he became a man.

Some people might find the Strangeling way of life disturbed, the odd ways of the cult, but we, the Foreordained, are no different to any other cults (vegans, surfers, dancers, cyclists) except that, through the indoctrination of our members, we remove choice. Once we have Pig-dipped you into joining our cult, there is no way out, only death. The Foreordained believe in the divine art of fortune-telling, reading the palm of fate. We know when your time has come and, deep in our hearts, we knew sweet Tippi’s time was nigh.

So, think carefully before blaming us for what took place, as our sacred idol shall absolve us. The Future is ours you see. We, the Foreordained worship the Pig, dine on the Pig. None of those fertiliser-poisoned fruits and vegetables or plastic-tainted fish for us. We are the Pig herd.

We took Tippi with us on our annual pilgrimage to Pig Beach, in the sure knowledge that the back seat of our battered pink Chevrolet Impala would be empty of her when we returned to Tulsa. Marta made up some roast pork and chutney bloomers, munchies, and candies for us to eat, fizzy pop for us to guzzle. While we watched our Tippi swim.

You see, the beach is our cult’s sacred site for the worship of the Pig, the white-sand chapel of the Foreordained. The swimming Pigs have been a draw for members of our Cult since Marta and I established pagan rites in Tulsa in ’98.

We arrived at the beach to find Aal standing by his Harley Davidson, dressed in summer smock and sandals, mind on the clear, bottle-green sea that stretched as far as the clear, sapphire sky. Marta and I hugged Aal while Tippi changed into her skimpy black soft-cotton bikini behind a shrub. I spoke at Aal, registering my concerns. He raised his navy shades, wedging them in his blonde buzz cut, so I could read his crystal-clear, grey-glass eyes. I spoke at Aal, to comfort him,

‘Aal, my grieving son. No Pigs swimming in the sea today?’

‘No Pigs swimming in the sea at all, Cabe,’ he confirmed sadly.

As I wondered why the Pigs chose, occasionally, to desert the hallowed gleaming waters of Pig Beach for the other side of the peninsula, I heard Marta babbling in the boot of the Impala,

‘Shall I lay out the feast on the beach mats, Cabe?’

‘If you would.’

‘Three settings?’

I shielded my eyes from the brilliant sun, stared out to sea, and saw those fatty shapes, lying grey and motionless in the warm tropical water, one hundred yards out. I saw those Pigs swim,

‘Three settings will be fine, thank you,’ I confirmed, ‘Can you see the Pigs, Marta, Aal?’

‘Are you sure, they’re Pigs, Cabe?’ Aal queried, ‘They seem too grey and slim for Pigs.’

I looked at Aal with fires of wrath burning in my eyes and thundered, ‘You doubting me, boy? 

‘No Sir!’ he whelped, ‘I can clearly see the Pigs now!’

Tippi padded up to me in her bikini, matt brown hair draped halfway down her back, her dark-tired eyes narrow slits, nose all snub, slender, young, skin as red as uncooked pork. Gave me a cheeky smirk, a chipmunk’s grin. Raised her thin brows a mite, pursed her cherry lips and said, in a hushed voice filled with syrupy, hickory, tones of awe and wonder:

‘Can I swim with the Pigs now, Cabe? Please say yes.’

‘Yes, Tippi!’ I hugged her round shoulders, beaming with pride, ‘Go swim with the Pigs.’

‘Marta?’

‘Why of course, Tip,’ Marta trilled, tears of joy streaming down her puffy cheeks, ‘In you go!’

‘Aal, will you marry me in ten-year’s time? If I swim with the Pigs?’ Tippi enquired, earnestly.

‘Of course, I’ll marry you, Tippi! It’ll be my privilege to marry you. We can breed babies into the Foreordained! We can bring children to this very same beach to swim with those old Pigs!’

‘Can we, really, Aal?’

Tippi’s eyes were shining. There was no doubt in her narrow-slit eyes.

‘Course we can! When we grow up. I think you should go swim with the Pigs now, don’t you? While I take pork and chutney, and munchies, and candies, and fizz with Marta and Cabe?’

We watched Tippi suck her thumb like a baby. She sucked her thumb like a baby whenever she got exulted. Tip glided like a slithering sea snake into the warm water. Glided into that sea up to her breasts, turned, and waved at us,

‘Love you Aal! Love you Marta! Love you Cabe!’

‘Oh, and we love you, Tippi,’ we cried in unison, ‘More than life itself!’

The grey shapes moved in the water…

Dr Jade Bicker, 32, from Tulsa, was in a tour boat on the other side of the peninsula watching the Pigs swim when the attack happened. She said,

‘About 45 minutes after we snorkelled in that exact spot, a distraught young man wearing a flowing white robe and leather sandals ran tripped over to say his girl got bitten? Everyone got out of the water. We were pretty scared. When we climbed back into the boat there were two small ones, still in the water, and one large one.’

Dad, Milford, 52, from Tulsa, wept:

‘We miss her so much. She was so caring. She loved Pigs. It’s so ironic she’d die in an attack.’

A GoFundMe page has been set up by Tippi’s sister, Violin, 23, to help pay to take her body back to Tulsa. The page said:

‘Tip was a beloved daughter, sister, girlfriend, and a good friend of the Foreordained.’

Apparently, Aal rushed to her aid when he saw them attack her. An emergency boat took her to hospital in the capital. But she could not be saved. Tippi, 21, from Tulsa, was killed by three sharks after members of the bizarre Pig-worshipping cult, the Foreordained, of Tulsa, failed to scream a warning that they were approaching.

A witness, 21, from Tulsa, who declined to be named, said,

‘She was savaged by tiger sharks, which usually hunt alone. It is thought to be the first fatal shark attack off Pig Beach in more than a decade.’

He added that the swimming Pigs have been a draw for Cabe Fartell, Marta Kardashian, Jade Bicker and her Kids, members of The Foreordained, since their inception in Tulsa in ’98.

Tippi Fairbird, 21, a student of the occult, was bitten on her legs and buttocks, she had her right arm torn off.



Submitted: December 31, 2020

© Copyright 2021 HJFURL. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

AdamCarlton

Rock on living the dream :) .. the Foreordained sounds like my kinda band now that Ozzy's retired...

Thu, December 31st, 2020 7:39pm

Author
Reply

you're welcome to join us anytime, Adam, we usually all meet on the Sabbat - for wild swimming,
HJ x
FD

Fri, January 1st, 2021 9:57am

Spyguy

Good writing, I’ll admit though that I didn’t understand any of it... I’ve got to think that it has a lot deeper meaning, (Especially with a last name Cardasian), but I’m at a complete loss to puzzle it out!

Wed, January 13th, 2021 8:17am

Author
Reply

Ah, that's the problem with cults, SpyGuy, no-one can ever understand them - myself included! Thank you and Happy New Year! Best Wishes, HJ.

Wed, January 13th, 2021 5:16am

SimonClemens

Sure, okay.

Wed, January 13th, 2021 8:35pm

Author
Reply

Thanks!

Wed, January 13th, 2021 1:59pm

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