The Adventures of Tex & Blae-Lok – 8

© 2025

The King was too caught up in the recounting of his tale to notice us and continued as he paced, “The water that poured into the pond actually sparkled, even in the dimness of the cave where the only sources of light were the pond and the stream.” He whirled dramatically, “and the water!” He stood as tall as he could and stretched out four of his, uh, arms. “Tee-Ecks, light also came from the water itself!”

The King stopped for a moment to judge our reaction — which was pure astonishment, of course! I mean, light from water? PUH-LEEZ! Oops, I think he heard that! I whispered to Blae. King G was looking from me to Blae, then back again.

“What is this Puh-Leeze you speak of?” he demanded. “Is this what gives light from water?”

Blae leaped to the rescue. “Oh, no, sire!” he said. “It is just an expression, said sometimes by Hue-Mans when they, uh, see or hear something that is so, so, …”

“Wondrous!” I threw in. “Something that is wondrous to behold, your majesty!”

“Ahhhh,” said the King, nodding. I see, yes!”

I glanced at Blae, in thanks. I saw that his learning to lie could come in handy. He gave me a mental shrug in answer.

“Now where was I?” said King G. I saw him counting on his many digits. “Oh, yes! The water was fresh and clean — except it contained a certain mysterious substance found nowhere else in the world, they said. These unusual natives who had brought my people to this strange and wondrous place called it,  “FOOOOOCH!” He gave it a lot of “Ohs.”

“The small number of our people who had been rescued by these strange Hue-Mans stayed at the pond for many days — and they grew strong, healthy, and became more aware of themselves and the world around them. They found, too, that their male members could communicate with every person of their small band through thought alone — and a few, who were of royal blood — could “broadcast” their thoughts to all members simultaneously! Over time, they brought the remaining members of their tribe to this cave, and this pond, where all were healed and made new by the miraculous gift of fooch!” 

“Why, this is extraordinary!” I exclaimed. “Why, I can’t …” but the King waved for silence.

“Excuse me, Tee-Ecks,” said King G, “but there is a sad side to this story as well.”

Uh, oh, I thought. Here comes the bad news. I turned to look at Blae, but he was no help. This part of the story was news to him, too. The whole part about the humans introducing his people to fooch was brand new to Blae. No, he had not been lied to about this part of their history. It just had never been shared with anyone before. It hadn’t been necessary. And, perhaps, Tex thought, the royal family did not want their people to know that they had all been saved, been resurrected, by Hue-Mans!

We paused for a short time, to get ready for whatever bad news was going to come our way. I looked at the King, then at Blae, sighed, then turned to King G and said, “Okay, kingy, let me have it.” I felt Blae wince, but I didn’t care. I was girding my loins — I think. I’m not really sure what that means, but it sounded right. It sounded — solemn, and that’s how I wanted to sound.

King G blinked a couple of times (that’s what I felt in my poor puddin’ head), paused, then giggled. “Did you just call me, ‘kingy’? With a small ‘k’?

“Yes,” I said boldly. Screw it. I suddenly saw myself being set upon and devoured by hungry, angry June Bugs of all colors and sizes. Then the King exploded.

I clapped my brain hands to my mental ears, but they weren’t any help. I glanced at Blae and saw he had rolled or been knocked off my shoulder and was lying on the ground, unmoving, on his back. He appeared to be vibrating slightly. The King exploded again, but not as loud, in deference, I think, to my poor mental eardrums.

“Oh, Tee-Ecks, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I am just so infatuated with you! No one has ever treated me, or spoken to me the way you do! It is delightful! I am constantly spoken to with ‘Your Highnesses,’ and ‘Your Lordships,’ and other syrupy things, it makes me sick! But you! Ha, you treat me like, … like … like a friend! Yes, you treat me like an old pal, and it is so refreshing! Please do not stop doing that!” He paused for a moment then said, “kingy” Ha! That’s just beautiful! And he giggled some more.

Blae had recovered about halfway through the King’s explanation of his sudden outburst, and I felt a slow smile and then a full grin come my way from his poor whiplashed brain. “It looks like we won’t be killed after all,” he said with a sigh. King G Had heard him and answered with a short burst of thunder.

“Sorry,” he said — a little meekly, especially for a king.

I laughed, too. “Oh, that’s okay, uh, ‘lordy,” I said hopefully. Another short blast of June Bug dynamite split the air, but I was ready for it this time and had already clapped my brain hands to my brain ears. Blae, though, had not been prepared and was again on his back. “Oh, sorry, Blae, I would have warned you, but I didn’t know I was going to say that. By the time it got said, it was too late.”

“That’s okay, T,” he replied. Just try to keep it in check for a while, will you?”

“Sure, buddy,” I smiled at him.

“Just a moment,” said the King. “I have a question.”

“Shoot,” I said.

“I have noticed that you and Blae-Lok have been addressing each other in shortened versions of your names —  and yet, you are not insulted. Why is that?”

I threw him a grin. “Oh, that’s just a human thing, I’m afraid. Something friends do, I guess. Friends generally have all kinds of ‘nicknames’ for each other. Sometimes we even insult each other  —  or we insult the other person’s wife, even, like, ‘your wife’s so fat, when she sits around the house, she sits around the house.” I moved my hands and arms to show him what I meant. I quickly prepared for another kingly blast — but it didn’t come.

King G just sat there for a moment, then said, “Sorry. I don’t under…” then the light came on and he roared with laughter. But he worked hard to control the violence of his outburst and eventually got it under control. We saw a number of his guards and hangers-on  milling around in the shadows outside the throne room, not sure if they should rush in or not. King G saw them too and waved them away. “It’s fine, he shouted to them, we’re all good in here!” Then he turned to me.

“Tee-Ecks,” he asked seriously, “would you mind if I called you, ‘T’?

I smiled at him and said, “Of course not, King G.” I felt Blae wince again, but the King just smiled. “It’s the same as when I call you’ King G’, or ‘kingy,’ a mark of friendship.” He took this as a solemn event and nodded his thanks. He turned to Blae.

“But you, Sir Blae-Lok, you are not Hue-Man, you are not a friend. You are a member of the court and have no such privileges.”

“Of course not, Sire,” Blae responded, meekly.

“G,” I  said, “where I come from, that is an insult! Blae is my friend, my best friend. I request, no I demand that you give him the same respect you have shown me!” I saw Blae cringe and shake his mental head violently.

King G stood on his hind legs and walked slowly to me, stood silent for a moment, then bowed to me. “T,” he said solemnly, I am so sorry. You are right. Sir Blae has served me well. He is also of royal blood, but I have been jealous of his success and of his relationship with you. My behavior has been inexcusable. I will sever my top right leg and present it to him.” With that, he began to gnaw on his leg.

“No!” I wailed, and Blae joined me. “Please do not do this, sire!” cried Blae. I placed my left hand on the King’s right leg and shook my head.

“No, G.” I whispered to him, “friends do not do this. Friends may sometimes be mean-ish, but it is not done in anger. It is not hurtful. It is … humorous.  You are not forgiven because there is nothing to forgive; you acted now out of honor. That is all that is required.”

King G looked up at me and rose. He turned and walked slowly to his throne. Blae moved to stand beside me. I could feel his thanks, but he whispered to me, “You are one crazy Hue-Man. Thank you.” 

King G, standing on his throne, was almost my height. “T,” he said softly, “I will treasure this day forever. I will preserve it in my royal archives. I will boast of it to my people, and you will always be remembered as a great friend to THE MIGHTY PHYLLOPHAGA POTENTIATOR!”

The three of us stood around the throne and smiled at each other, good friends forever!

Finally, I had another swig of my beer, then looked at the King. “G,” I said (Blae winced again  —  he just couldn’t help it, but the King grinned at me). “G, you said there was a sad side to your story. Can you explain now?”

“Yes, T, certainly.” The King paused for a moment to wash away the remnants of our hilarity, then began in a soft voice that reeked of gravity. Imagine Darth Vader reciting a funerary speech, but an octave lower. “As we grew stronger,” he began, “we noticed that our hosts, our saviors, had begun to grow weaker, slower, smaller, and feeble. We were shocked and distressed. Had they been infected with some strange malady that did not affect us? Or, we feared, had we perhaps been the source of such a malady? Did we bring in some terrible plague that was killing the very beings who had saved us from certain death?”

King G sighed heavily and slumped in his throne. He shook his head, “My dear friends, you have no idea how crushed we all were.”

I was caught by surprise. “What?” I exclaimed, “You were actually there, G? You were in the first group to gain sentience? That’s incredible!”

“Well, not exactly, T. Our memories do not work the same as yours, especially when you are one of the royalty.” He paused to think for a moment. “I understand from what Blae-Lok has told me, that you know that we can share not just information, but also memories. The masses, the farmers and hunters, the cooks and weavers, the common people, can share memories from a generation or two, but those of us of royal blood can see as far back as the beginning of our true birth, when fooch opened our minds. Oh, not all royals, just those who are direct descendants of the first Monarchs, King GooAbe-GooAbe and Queen Poo-Tang.”

I was taking the final swig of my beer at that moment and launched part of it out of my nostrils. King G leaped off his throne and kind of danced up and down, waving his appendages. “Are you okay, T, are you okay?!” he said. His very deep voice echoed through my head.

“I’m fine, G.” ‘Poo-Tang’? I was very careful to think only to myself, ‘Oh, that’s just one letter away from a classic Jack Nicholson comedic turn!’

“Tex, you sure you’re alright?” said Blae. I could tell he was trying to buy me some extra time to compose myself.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Now tell me, G, what happened next, with my ancestors?”

King G resumed his throne and said, “T, your people sacrificed themselves for us, a completely foreign species. They and we had shared our minds and our lives, huddled as we were, deep beneath the earth.” He looked at me with great sadness, swimming in memories he had thought were forgotten. “It has been so very very long since these visions were fresh. It has been too long, too much lost time.” He shook himself, trying to remember, and continued, “Not even I can recall it all. But I do remember seeing as your people grew smaller and weaker —  and they knew it was the fooch that was responsible. Until the last of them … died!” his mental voice breaking. “He … he … was a mere speck, washed away in a pool of sparkling water; at his last, he pleaded with us to use the fooch responsibly, to not abuse it!”

I thought of Queen Pooty, er, “Poo-Tee,” so very small. I threw a mental question to the King.

“Yes, Tex,” he said, getting my name right at last, “My Queen fell victim to the curse of fooch. Soon she will be gone. She will return, in her last stage, to the water. And we will mourn.” We all sat in silence for a few moments, until the King spoke again. “And now we must address another issue, and another after that — the most important of all. For my people, T, and yours.”

I sat up straighter. “Excuse me? Important to my people? Humans?”

“Oh, yes, T. To the world.”

I swallowed hard. My head began to swim. I shook my head to clear it. “I’m not sure I want to hear this, G. I … I don’t think you are talking to the right person! ‘To the World,’ you say? You need to speak to the Governor, or the President  —  well, no, not to him, but certainly not to me! I’m nobody, King G! I’m just some wannabee writer, I’m not …”

“You are the only one we have, T. There is no time to find another. There is no other we can trust. You were borne into this matter. You are The One.”

“Oh, my God!” I thought, “He thinks I’m Keanu Reeves!”

“We know no KeeAnu-Reevs,” said the King. “We know only you, of all Hue-Mans. We have spoken with no other, no other speaks with us. We have tried to speak with your kind for many many years, T. No other hears us. We are One, with You, Tex.” Then he folded me into his mind so I could finally see. 

END CHAPTER EIGHT