Where’s Griswald?

By Rachel Dib

“Work the night shift, they said.” Oscar pushed his chair back from the wall of screens. “It’ll be easy, they said.” He wheeled himself over to the small desk holding the telephone and began pressing the number for the tactical team’s head. “Well, in what world is a twenty-foot-tall praying mantis easy?”

The phone rang twice before Derek’s terse voice answered. “What’s wrong now?”

“Bert enlarged again.” Oscar glanced back to the screens. “And he’s even bigger than last time.”

“Seriously?”

“No, I just called you for kicks and giggles,” Oscar barked. “Yes, I’m serious! Now get your team together and take care of it. He’s already trying to jimmy the lock.”

Derek muttered something about how nights were supposed to be uneventful before the line went dead.

At least I’m not the only one who feels tricked by this job’s description. Oscar turned back toward the screens. Bert had picked the lock.

In minutes, the tactical unit rushed into the outdoor yard lined with massive, fenced enclosures. Oscar watched as those in front raised clear plastic shields to block the praying mantis’s strikes, while others shot shrinking darts at the bug. Luck was not on their side. The first volley either missed or glanced off his exoskeleton.

Bert struck again. When his raptorial leg bounced off a shield, rather than reattack, he turned and fled down the path, scurrying between the cages.

“Unfortunate,” Oscar muttered as the team chased after the retreating insect. Shaking his head, he glanced over the other screens. The rest of the size-manipulation zone’s occupants, while perturbed, looked fine. He clicked a button on his remote, and the outdoor scene disappeared, the screens switching to a room filled with terrariums. Oscar nodded. The color alternations and bioluminescent creatures also seemed good—not that those animals ever caused any trouble.

Well, except when the ferrets escaped into the ventilation shaft. Suddenly paranoid, Oscar zoomed in and counted the ferrets. He relaxed when all fourteen were found glowing in their habitats.

Now for the chimeras. Oscar clicked another button and a room containing large glass enclosures appeared. He cast the camera over every pen, ticking off each modified animal. Bear-zebra, moose-giraffe, kangaroo-lama. Now for the octopus-penguin and we’re home free.

Oscar positioned the camera over the tank at the back of the room and froze. The small isle was empty. Zooming in closer, he searched the water. Nothing.

“Of course Griswald would escape.”

Running a hand through his hair, Oscar switched the camera back to the size-manipulation yard. The tactical team had pinned Bert against the corner of two enclosures, one containing a Maltese-sized polar bear and the other holding a bull-sized myotonic goat which, of course, had fainted. Oscar almost felt sorry for the mantis. Any time it ventured backward, the polar bear poked his nose through the fencing and nipped Bert’s legs.

Oscar sighed. Guess I’ll have to go find the squishy bird myself.

As he hurried down the facility’s hallways, Oscar contented himself with the fact that at least Griswald wasn’t dangerous. He feels like a rubber marshmallow covered in slime, but at least he can’t eat my face. And who knows, maybe he just managed to hide from the—

As Oscar rounded a corner, his boot skidded out from under him. He flailed his arms as he fell backward but, with nothing to latch onto, hit the floor with a thud. Breathless, he lay still, staring up at the tile ceiling. Then, with a grunt, he turned on his side. Splotches of greenish brown goop trailed down the hall.

Oscar gritted his teeth. Griswald guano.

Rather than follow the scat trail, Oscar continued toward the chimeras’ area. Sure enough, he found the sliding door slightly ajar. It was a small crevice, barely two inches. The squishy, tentacled penguin, however, didn’t need much space to enact an escape. Oscar had seen him squeeze through gaps half as wide.

Poking his head into the room, he made sure all the other mutated beasts were still contained before sealing the door. Blowing out his cheeks, Oscar headed back toward Griswald’s poo trail. Now for finding Mr. Squishy.

Though the guano droppings didn’t lead far, they at least gave Oscar a start. He walked down the corridor but found all the doors firmly latched and locked.

Hopefully it doesn’t take as long to find him as last time. Oscar winced. The tactical team had spent three hours searching, only to discover Oswald puddle-like in the bottom of a mop bucket. And that time, the search radius had been confined to the chimeras’ holding area.

Oscar had almost walked through the laboratory’s entire right wing before he found more guano. His spirits rose as he followed the trail—till he saw the cracked door. He swallowed as he read the sign: Chemical Storage.

“No!” Oscar pushed open the door to find Griswald splayed out across a steel table, vials of liquid clutched in three of his tentacled limbs. Griswald’s penguin head snapped toward Oscar. Opening his beak, he let out a series of low-pitched twitters that ended as high-noted honks.

Oscar crossed his arms. What was the guidance on how to discipline him again? Be firm? “Griswald, no.”

Griswald lifted a vial higher in the air.

Eyes widening, Oscar lunged forward—too late. Griswald swung the vial down, shattering it against the edge of the table. The mutated penguin screeched as bits of glass perforated his soft, octopus torso.

And then he began to enlarge.

Oscar dashed into the hall and quickly locked the door. By the time he returned to his security room, Bert was back in his enclosure at his normal two-foot size. Nodding, he picked up the phone and dialed the tactical team’s number.

“The bug is under control. What now?” Derek growled.

Oscar cleared his throat. “Now, you can deal with the giant octopus-penguin locked in the chemical storage room.” He hung up before Derek had finished uttering his first curse.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel Dib is a stay-at-home mom of three small children. After marrying a soldier, she left her home state of South Carolina to live in random places across the U.S. In her limited spare time, she enjoys reading, writing, and playing board games. Her other published work can be found in online magazines.

---

More Stories | Facebook