Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 64
Extra 1: Banxia's Day as a Gecko
"Wow! Look at this!"
The girl who loved to scare him with bugs was back.
The little boy stiffened, determined to ignore her.
The girl, her hands cupped together, holding something secret, shoved them almost into his face, then suddenly opened her palms, revealing… a strange, grass-green creature.
The boy recoiled, falling off the piano bench.
He stood up, scowling at the girl, who grinned triumphantly, her smug expression infuriating.
But she seemed oblivious to his annoyance, pulling him towards the scaly creature with her grubby hands.
"It's a lizard! Isn't it cute?"
Cute? It's hideous, the boy thought, but he found himself crouching down beside her.
The two children squatted by the piano, the boy staring at the lizard in fascination.
It was a small lizard, with grass-green scales, large eyes, and a long tail. It seemed startled, its strangely patterned eyes wide, its body frozen, like a strange little stone.
The girl poked it with her finger. "I caught it in the field! Have you ever seen one before? It's not poisonous! It doesn't bite!"
Seeing her poking the lizard, the boy felt a pang of sympathy. "Stop it! You'll hurt it!"
"Oh," the girl, unlike the city boy, was accustomed to handling all sorts of creatures – crickets, grasshoppers, caterpillars. She withdrew her hand. "Let's find a cage and keep it, so it doesn't run away."
They couldn't find a cage, so the boy brought out an old fish tank, empty since the goldfish had died.
The boy rubbed his hands together, eager to try and catch the lizard himself, to place it in the tank.
Having spent most of his life playing the piano, he had never handled a creature like this before. He was both excited and nervous.
The little lizard suddenly wriggled in his hand, and in his surprise, he tightened his grip. The lizard's tail broke off.
"Its tail!" the boy cried, dropping the lizard in shock.
The girl quickly scooped up the escaping lizard, placed it in the fish tank, and covered the opening with a book.
The two children looked at each other, then at the severed tail on the floor.
It was still twitching.
"What… what should we do? Its tail… will it die?" the boy asked, his face pale, his heart filled with a sudden, unexpected sadness.
The girl shrugged. "It's okay. Lizards' tails can grow back, like geckos'. They drop them when they're scared."
Despite her reassurances, the boy remained worried.
The girl, however, quickly lost interest in the lizard. She caught butterflies one day, frogs the next. Her world was full of fascinating creatures. A tailless lizard held no appeal.
The next day, when the boy asked about it, she had already forgotten.
"The lizard? I don't want it anymore. You can put it back in the field."
But the boy didn't. It was his lizard, the only lizard he had ever had, and he had injured it. He felt responsible for it.
He kept the lizard in the fish tank, calling his father, who was away on business, to ask how to care for it.
He even ventured into the fields to catch insects, the kind he usually avoided, to feed the lizard. He meticulously cleaned the tank, keeping it dry and clean.
The severed tail, which he had kept in a small box, had dried and withered, but a new tail was slowly growing on the lizard's body.
The boy, finally reassured, believed what the girl had said.
If a human lost a limb, it was gone forever. But this resilient creature, hidden in its glass world, though it had sacrificed a part of itself, was slowly healing, a new tail emerging, stronger, perhaps, than the one before.
He kept the fish tank on the piano and would often watch the lizard, its movements slow and deliberate, as he practiced.
His grandfather's house was different from his home in the city. Time seemed to move slower here, the birds singing in the trees, the summer sun dappling through the leaves, casting shifting shadows on the floor.
The little lizard would sit in its tank, doing nothing, staring out at the world, its gaze unfocused, its thoughts unknown.
The boy sometimes envied it, its simple existence, its quiet contemplation, its freedom from the complexities of the human world.
Ling Dong woke up, his head resting on the warm brick bed, rubbing his temples. He had been dreaming of his childhood.
Being back in his grandfather's house always brought back memories.
He reached out for Banxia, his arm instinctively searching for her warmth, but she wasn't there.
He sat up, startled, the bed beside him empty. She was usually still asleep at this hour.
"Banxia?" he called out, but the house was silent, the only sound the soft whisper of the snow falling outside.
A sudden unease gripped him. He threw back the covers and saw a small, golden creature curled up on the sheets.
His heart skipped a beat. It was a leopard gecko, its scales a vibrant gold, like sunlight.
He knew this morph. It was called "Sunglow."
Just like he, in his other form, was a "Black Night."
But this wasn't the time to think about gecko morphs. His hand froze on the blanket, his mind refusing to acknowledge the terrifying possibility forming in his mind.
The gecko stirred, its large, black eyes blinking open.
It was a cute little creature, its dark eyes and perpetually smiling mouth giving it an endearingly innocent expression.
The golden gecko looked at its tiny claws, then at the bedsheets, then, tilting its head, at the looming figure beside it.
Ling Dong's hand trembled as he whispered, "Banxia?"
He hoped it was just a prank, that she had bought a gecko and placed it on the bed to surprise him.
But he knew, instinctively, that this was her, his Banxia.
The gecko, seemingly unfazed by its transformation, looked at its own tiny paws, then at Ling Dong, its voice a soft, high-pitched chirp. "Oh my god! What happened to me?"
The voice wasn't Banxia's, but the tone, the inflection, were unmistakably hers.
Ling Dong carefully lifted her from the bed, his own hand trembling, his voice caught in his throat.
He felt her tiny claws gripping his skin, her soft belly against his palm.
So this is how it feels, he thought, to hold her in my hand.
If she were to experience the same fate as him, her time shrinking, her body changing… he couldn't bear the thought, his heart clenching painfully at the mere possibility.
The golden gecko blinked its large eyes, its voice cheerful. "So this is what it's like to be a gecko! Wow! Everything is so big! Xiao Lian, you're like a giant!"
"Are you… okay? Does it… hurt?" Ling Dong asked, his voice filled with concern, his face pale.
But Banxia seemed to be enjoying the experience. "I'm fine! This is amazing! I can see perfectly in the dark!" She examined her new body with fascination, her gaze lingering on her tail.
So that's why it's so sensitive, she thought, her tail twitching involuntarily at his touch. No wonder he always looks so… cute when I touch it.
Despite the chaos of the morning, Ling Dong, out of habit, prepared breakfast for two.
"Maybe she'll transform back soon," he murmured, his voice filled with a desperate hope. "Maybe it's just a dream."
While he cooked, Banxia explored the room, climbing the furniture with her tiny claws.
"Look, Xiao Lian! I can climb anywhere!" she chirped.
Ling Dong, constantly glancing at her, distracted by her cuteness, burned the edges of the pancakes. He gave up and made her a fruit salad instead. Banxia circled the small dish, her flat little mouth twitching. "I don't think I like fruit. Maybe this kind only eats bugs," she said, looking at him, her big eyes blinking.
Outside, the snow fell steadily, the world a pristine white.
"Well, I suppose I can try a little," she said, her tiny claws scraping at the fruit, her pink tongue darting out, her tail twitching occasionally.
Ling Dong couldn't take his eyes off her.
She's so adorable, he thought. When he had first transformed, his family's horrified screams echoing in his ears, he had seen his gecko form as monstrous, a source of shame and fear.
But looking at Banxia now, he couldn't imagine anything more… perfect, more endearing.
He was afraid to even touch her, his fingers hovering over her delicate scales, worried he might hurt her, his heart pounding as he held her, her tiny body a precious weight in his hand.
A soft, tingling warmth spread through him.
Banxia, after finishing her fruit, seeing him staring at her, crawled onto his hand and nuzzled his wrist. "Don't worry! It'll be okay! Even if I stay like this… it's not so bad, being a gecko!"
Ling Dong lifted her to his face and gently kissed her head.
The morning passed uneventfully. Ling Dong, wearing gloves and his hair tied back, cleaned the apartment, preparing for the New Year, his movements clumsy, his mind distracted, the chores a way to channel his anxiety.
Banxia explored her surroundings, climbing over him, her tiny claws tickling his skin. Ling Dong, constantly worried she might fall, would gently pick her up and place her somewhere safer.
Growing bored with exploring, Banxia, feeling mischievous, crawled up his arm and disappeared inside his shirt.
Ling Dong froze, his hand instinctively reaching for her, then hovering protectively, his fingers brushing her delicate scales.
"Banxia… come out," he said, his voice strained.
Her tiny claws and scales against his bare skin were driving him crazy.
But Banxia, having discovered a new playground, was enjoying herself immensely. Seeing the world from a gecko's perspective, exploring the contours of his body, leaving her mark on his skin, was thrilling.
She crawled across his chest, down his arm, her tiny claws finding the sensitive spots, the places where his skin would pebble with goosebumps, his muscles twitching involuntarily.
After a while, she poked her head out of his collar, blinking at him innocently.
"Oops! I slipped!" she chirped.
She's just a little gecko, he thought. What harm could she possibly do?
Ling Dong, his neck burning, didn't reply, trying to pull her out, but she just licked his fingers with her tiny pink tongue, and he quickly withdrew his hand. She continued to "slip" and "fall" into his shirt all morning.
Even in this small form, she was still teasing him, still in control. Their dynamic hadn't changed. Size didn't matter. It was all about… audacity.
I shouldn't have taken off my shirt, Ling Dong thought ruefully.
That afternoon, Ling Dong went out, braving the snow.
It was too cold to take Banxia with him.
She stayed in the apartment, trying to play her violin with her tiny claws, the strings a vast, impassable landscape.
Being a gecko wasn't so bad, except for this, this inability to play. Her violin was an extension of herself, and without it, she felt… incomplete.
These tiny hands, she thought, looking at her claws. Everything is so difficult. Even the simplest tasks required immense effort. The bow, usually so light in her hand, was now a heavy, unwieldy object.
Xiao Lian did so much, created such beautiful music, with these tiny claws, she thought, her admiration for him growing. How much effort must it have taken? How much… resilience?
The door opened, and Ling Dong returned, his arms laden with bags and packages, the cold wind and snow swirling around him.
He closed the door, shutting out the winter storm, took off his coat, brushed the snow from his shoulders, and warmed his hands before turning to her.
"I found a pet store. They had… everything," he said, taking out a heating pad, heat packs, a terrarium, a humidifier, a bouquet of bright orange calendula flowers, and, most importantly, a small bag of live insects.
He's worried I'll be hungry, Banxia realized.
I'd rather starve, she thought, recoiling from the bag of wriggling insects.
"Just in case," Ling Dong said, picking her up gently, his voice soft. "If you can't eat anything else, I can… fry them, or maybe wrap them in dough. I'll make sure it's… palatable."
He was usually so meticulous about cleanliness, even more afraid of insects than she was. But now, seeing her like this, her vulnerability exposed, he was willing to do anything for her, even handle… bugs.
"If you haven't transformed back by tomorrow, you'll have to eat. Whatever you can. I'll… I'll eat them with you," he said, his voice tender, his gaze filled with love and concern.
Banxia crawled onto his hand, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of his touch, his love a comforting presence in this strange, new world.
He took care of her that evening, giving her a warm bath, carefully drying her with a soft cloth, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with tenderness as he carried her to bed.
Lulled by his warmth, his scent, Banxia quickly drifted off to sleep, a hazy golden glow filling her vision.
Where did he find such beautiful, golden flowers in the middle of winter? she wondered. They remind me of the flowers in Grandpa Mu's courtyard, the ones that bloomed in the summer sun.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Ling Dong placed the calendula flowers, their color a perfect match for her golden scales, in a vase by the bed, then climbed into bed beside her, his lips brushing the petals, then hers.
There were so many things he wanted to say, but he simply whispered, "Goodnight, Banxia."
On the warm brick bed, a black gecko and a golden gecko lay curled up together, their necks touching, their bodies a silent testament to their love.
In the morning, Banxia woke up, a golden petal resting on her pillow. She picked it up with her fingers, her human fingers, flexible and nimble.
She was human again.
Ling Dong, already awake, his dark eyes watching her, a soft smile on his lips.
Banxia sat up, testing her limbs, but she couldn't transform back.
Outside, the snow fell steadily, the world a pristine white, their small room a warm, safe haven, a dream.
The events of the previous night, the strange transformation, the fear and uncertainty, seemed like a distant nightmare, a figment of her imagination.
IT WAS CUTEEEEE
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