Parrothead in Paradise

by PastCat


Chapter 5

We scavenged as much as we could get from our side of the H1, the highway that separated University of Hawaii Manoa from the rest of Honolulu. Much of it had collapsed, but a large chunk just kind of fell over, becoming a wall-like barrier between us and what was left of the city. I didn’t know why, but none of us wanted to go over the remnants of the highway into downtown Honolulu, such that it was. It was surprising how much we actually found around campus and the surrounding neighborhoods. Even “student ghettos” here had a fair number of fruit trees and other useful plants growing wild. One by one we even managed to get into the old dorms to see if any of our personal possessions were left intact; I don’t think anyone found much, but I guess snorkel gear holds together better than suitcases seeing as I found mine. The plastic net bag was a pleasant surprise addition to Doc’s and my fishing gear. Any electronics were useless, and most clothing fell to pieces when touched. Of all the odd survivors among our stuff, hair bands were surprisingly durable and very useful for many of our projects. We were living off of what we could plant and what we brought out of the van and its trailer for quite a while.

At one point, Doc and Adam made it to Doc’s old house inland from campus. Neither of them said much about the experience, but when they returned, Doc clutched a locket in his paws. He looked like he’d been crying. Adam’s feathers had been mussed. I suppose he and Doc had a similar discussion to the one I had with Trish. Dinner that night was unusually quiet.

That was unusual. In some ways, dinner and the evening social time afterward were the best part of the day. None of us wanted to be alone after dark, so we often ended up crowding around the cookfire with whatever project we were working on at the time. It was a chore keeping everything dry enough to be comfortable, but none of us came out with trench hoof or whatever. Most of the books we had salvaged withered away in the humid air and fell apart no matter what we did to keep them in one piece. The Archive’s Guidebook remained intact. There must have been some kind of magic protecting it from the damp. Given how often it got passed around, it would have crumbled long before anything else. I’m not sure how, but Emmy’s well-loved copy of Harry Potter survived too. Maybe it had its own magic. Or maybe she was just fanatical about keeping it in pristine condition. Whatever. It worked.

One of the most entertaining discussions that came about from our scavenging and campfire chats involved speculation about celebrities. If I remember right, the first one was prompted by Emmy finding Trish’s copy of an old People magazine featuring the “Sexiest Men Alive” and a picture of Brad Pitt. Trish had dog-eared a page featuring Matt Smith from Doctor Who. We all did our best to ignore the blush that crept across her features. It turned her blue coat purple from ears to the tip of her nose.

“Do you think anybody in there came back yet?” Emmy asked, studying the, ahem, studs in the article. “I mean, what kind of body would he have?” She pointed a hoof towards Brad Pitt.

“With that face? I dunno. He would be a nice looking whatever he turned into.” That was from Adam. He acted disinterested, but I saw his wings rise briefly. Like a teenager trying to hide a boner, I thought. “No homo though.” He finished.

“Okay, what about her?” Emmy countered with a swimsuit shot of Rhianna, the wide grin on the celebrity’s face matching that on Emmy’s. That did it for Adam. He nearly knocked Nic over when his wings unfurled with an epic “POOMPH!”

“Um… er… ah…” We chuckled as he tried to get himself under control. Nic saved him. “I’d say she’d be an earth pony, or if you want to go more exotic a zebra. I think she’d totally rock stripes. As for him,” he pointed at Brad Pitt, “He looks like a pegasus to me. Rather flighty, you know.” Nic had a mischievous gleam in his eye as he listened to the protests of the mares. I’m not sure if they were protesting the “pegasus” bit or the “flighty” bit, but it was funny to listen to. Emmy said he would be a unicorn; Trish argued for earth pony.

That celebrity rag led to a discussion that kept us entertained for several nights running. Many of the rich and famous were hashed out as ponies or other fantastic creatures. My favorite part was the fact that everyone’s celebrity crushes and personal nerdinesses came out. Emmy focussed on the stars of the Harry Potter films (evidently Alan Rickman made a fantastic unicorn out of every goth-girl’s fantasy). Trish raved about Doctor Who (Matt Smith? Earth pony. Benedict Cumberbatch? Unicorn). Adam, it turns out, was a bit of a Trekkie (William Shattner went earth pony, Leonard Nimoy went unicorn, and George Takei went pegasus). Nic geeked out about the Marvel movies (Robert Downey Jr? Pegasus. Chris Evans? Unicorn. Chris Pratt? Earth pony. Scarlett Johansson? Pegasus.) All lamented that we would never see the release of additional movies and episodes.

As for Doc, he mostly listened quietly. He chimed in when he heard a name he recognized and restarted an ongoing debate with Adam as to whether Star Wars or Star Trek was superior (and for the record, they agreed that Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher would be excellent unicorns. Harrison Ford, on the other claw, went pegasus). When talk started to slow down, he’d mention some actor or actress from when he was younger that I didn’t recognize but some of the others did.

As for me, I wracked my brain for anyone I could think of. I’ve never been much of a follower for celebrity culture, but I kept up with a few of my favorites. The part of me that still swoons over Jurassic Park nominated Jeff Goldblum for unicornhood. Most of my beloved country singers went earth pony, though Taylor Swift was a shoo-in pegasus. Eventually Trish got me to reveal my thoughts on my all-time favorite by prompting me to choose someone to join me in griffonhood. “Who would turn out looking like me, you mean?” Nods all around. I grinned. “Isn’t it obvious? If anyone went parrothead like me, wouldn’t it be the great Jimmy Buffett? After all, his fans have been calling ourselves Parrotheads for decades!”

When our favorite shows and movies ran thin, we branched out to other celebrities. We managed to agree on a few of them. After all, can anyone doubt that with his voice, Morgan Freeman would not come back as a dragon? The fate of Johnny Depp was hotly debated, with suggestions of all three pony races as well as zebra and griffon entering the conversation. We eventually compromised by deciding that he’d be a changeling so he could appear as anything he wanted. I remember Doc and Nic having a lengthy discussion about whether Arnold Schwarzenegger would reappear as a Diamond Dog or a Minotaur (I leaned toward the latter with Nic.) The game went on for quite a while even after the magazine bit the dust. As we all went our separate ways to bed one night about a week and a half after we changed, I heard Adam wonder out loud “I wonder if we could find another celebrity rag down in Honolulu…”