Sometimes you feel like a nut. Sometimes a Koko Kringle bar. Right now…I'm a Koko Kringle. My name's Sonny Joon, and this is my story. I was born in a crop circle just outside of Tulsa, near a koko kringle packing plant. My momma worked at the plant and used to bring the defective bars home for me and my siblings. I've had an addiction ever since. As a teen I could never really keep down a job, I blame the Martians. They don't like how close I'm getting to their secrets….anyways. I've made it a habit of mine to get jobs in interesting places, figure out how things work there and write it all down in a notebook to help the poor fool who comes after me. I like to think I help, but who knows? It used to be a harmless hobby but ever since that man contacted me, I've had troubling thoughts about what I'm really leaving behind. You see, the universe is constructed in an odd criss cross, fate seems to be bringing the same person after me every time. A very bad man is using this to his advantage.
He told me that if I sent him a copy of all of my notes after I get fired, he'll keep the Mayans off my trail. Could he be so powerful? I couldn't take my chances. So I started playing along, see? I'd make two copies of my notes, leave one in a convenient desk drawer and send one to a guy in prison. I was making more money off of that than the two week jobs I was hired for, and the Mayan thing was a plus. But my thoughts kept swirling around like an alien test tube baby. What was he doing with this information I was slipping him? Figuring out how to fix plotters? Possible but unlikely. I mean…he could just ask the Mayans (if he REALLY has those connections).
Recently, my curiosity got the better of me and I stayed behind after a job on Dread Isle, a strangely shaped island in the Bahamas. I had just finished my work with the monkeys on the reserve. Well…work is a strong word. More or less I taught them more ways to stick it to the huMAN and they taught me how to lose gracefully at games. It was a win win situation. Anyway…I held up my end of the bargain, sent my composition notebook full of colorful designs to my counterpart and was ready to head out on my way when a plane reached the island. I watched as a beautiful redhead disembarked from the plane. She was greeted by a frantic, and manish, friend but she kept her cool. She was the kind of girl you want around when the aliens start landing. They ran off towards the hotel where I had just left my notes. It seemed a little silly to me since the owners had just left for a week long vacation.
I could hear them chattering, something about some idiot friend getting kidnapped, as I made my way to the window. I peered in just in time to see the redhead finish reprogramming a Krolmeister Bat Seeker. "That looks right," I heard her mutter to herself, "but I still need a battery." I felt the weight of a battery in my pocket. I couldn't give it to her. Not yet. I saw her pick up my book of findings. "Hmm, Sonny Joon again. He sure does get around," she chuckled to herself. Suddenly I knew, she was the girl who always followed me.
I stepped back, aghast. If this was the one who always followed me then this was the person that my convict friend was after. I had to take a walk. I couldn't breathe. Knowing that she was real was too much. Did this girl really take the time to read my every little note? Did she notice the Koko Kringles I'd so carelessly left behind when security ushered me from the premiseseseseses? Did she feel the same connection to me as I suddenly felt to her?
I got in a golf cart and tried to turn it on. Figures, the lame water powered battery was empty. I got out and figured I could actually walk instead of driving my walk. I headed down the beach, thoughts of her strange intonations and somewhat rude questions overwhelmed my government implant. I suddenly found myself at a beach with red sand. I was immediately accosted by a man dressed like a pirate. Why a pirate, I shall never know.
"What are you doing here you idiot?" he demanded.
"What in the name of Martians do you mean?" I asked, flabbergasted that he knew the nickname everyone so often called me.
"You're supposed to have left by now. I already have your notes and everything." I felt a lump in my throat as he hit me in the face with my very own composition notes.
"Y-you're my Mayan man?"
He stared dumbly at me. I don't think he expected me to be so perceptive. "Are you kidding? Who the heck else would I be?"
"Do you know about the kidnapped girl?" He continued to stare. "I feel like that redheaded girl needs help!"
"You idiot," he said, as though using my nickname would endear me to him, "of course I know. I took her. And don't even think about helping that buttinski Nancy Drew!"
I stared at him, mouth agape. Before I could speak we heard a golf cart pull up. "Quick," he shouted at me, "put this sandal over there and stay in the bushes until I say so."
I quickly did as I was told and watched as the scene unfolded before me. My Mayan pirate put on a fake accent, I couldn't quite discern, and told the girl, Nancy, a story about men sneaking through the bushes. I was in the bushes. Was this his plan for me? Before she departed she asked one last thing.
"Do you have a battery?"
The pirate sent her on an errand, offering the battery as payment, and I watched as she got in her golf cart and putted out of sight. "Is it the Mayans?" I asked, leaping from the possibly dangerous bush.
"What?" he asked, dropping the accent.
"The men on the island, are they the Mayans?"
The pirate man cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "Yes…yes that's exactly who they are."
"Knew it," I whispered.
"And if you don't do exactly what I say all I have to do is whistle and they'll be on you like ants at a picnic. Understood?" I wasn't sure what ants had to do with it, but I nodded. "Good. As long as you're here I might as well get some use out of you. Keep an eye on Nancy and keep me posted on her position so I don't lose track of her." I nodded.
"But how will I contact you? Mayan mind melding?"
He stared at me. "Seriously? I can't tell if you're really this stupid or if it's just a bit." I was confused and unsure how to answer. "Don't you have a cell phone?"
I nodded and reached into my pocket. As I groped for my phone I felt the cool touch of the nine volt battery on my skin. I pulled it out and handed it to the Mayan pirate. "Here…she'll need this." I felt myself getting teary eyed.
"What are you talking about?"
"You promised her a battery if she completed your task. Are you thinking of not fulfilling your promise?!"
The man put up his hands. "No, no , no," he said, in a soothing manner that comforted me. "You are very right. I do need this for that stu- Nancy. Thank you Sonny. Good boy." I nodded happily as he scratched my ear. I liked that he complimented me. "Now, be on your way and don't let Nancy out of your sight. M'kay?"
"Okay," I said, and I was on my way.
I followed Nancy as she traversed the island, luckily I could keep up since golf carts only go about 5 miles an hour. I watched her as she did odd, seemingly senseless, things. At one point she actually picked an egg up off the beach and stuck it in her bag. I admired her unusual appreciation of fowl life and her conviction to the tasks she had to do. How could a person keep their attention on one item for so long? I would never know.
Eventually she returned to the Mayan pirate's beach. I watched longingly as he placed the battery in her hand, wishing it could have been me to do the honors. I climbed out of the bushes as she left and watched her leave.
"What did she want a battery for?" my Mayan man asked me.
"A bat locator of course."
"What was she doing with THAT?"
"Looking for Dracula I suppose, though I doubt she'll find him around here." The pirate stared at me. "Too much sun," I reminded him. "Though if he were to hide in those bat caves on the other side of the island—"
"THE CAVES!" he shrieked. "There must be something in that journal about the caves. Oh Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, I knew you'd figure it out."
I looked around a second to figure out who he was talking to. "I'm Sonny," I reminded him, "Nancy went that way!"
The Mayan pirate stared at me for a moment, as if committing my name to his memory. "You know, evil monologues are best when your minion isn't a moron."
"Probably," I chuckled, amused at his hypothetical situation.
"Yes," he told in a soothing tone, "Nancy did go that way. And we're going to follow her."