Deforestator

*snap* *sigh*

There went another one. Deforestator tossed the broken pencil into the pile of other broken pencils amounting on his workbench. Who was he kidding? He looked down at the drawing pad he was trying to work on. Black lines jutted out at weird angles when each pencil he picked up had eventually broken in his hand. The pad had scratches on the cover and tares where he had held on to it too hard. He sighed again and placed it on the workbench next to the pile of pencils, another pile of broken paintbrushes, and a spray-paint can that had a broken nozzle. Getting up he left the back workroom and went to the counter of his shop.

Wood carvings stuffed the little shop to the gills. Dozens of tikis, carvings, and other wood-related objects covered the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. You could barely see out the display window. Since it had been a slow day Deforestator pulled out a chunk of wood the size of his hand and started to carve. Now this was right, this was what he was meant to do. His sharp nails stroked the surface, stroke by stroke the beauty of the figure within started to show. Arms came out, legs grew, hands were formed, a head, then hair, then finally the face. He liked this part; it was the best and most important part.

Carefully, using the tip of his little finger, he carved. Faces were special; they could tell you everything about a person. He liked to think that if the world somehow ended and one of his carvings survived, that whoever found it years later would understand everything about this world. The hard coarse wood melted away. Eyes, the last step. Now those were important. These eyes were special. The eyes he was making were like none he had seen before. They saw everything for what it really was, they saw the world with beauty, they might get angry, but there was one thing that he had never seen them do. They never looked at him like he was a monster.

A little bell ringed as the front door of the shop opened. Deforestator quickly stuffed the figurine in his work apron pocket. Lilo smiled brightly and came in, carrying a small package and followed by Stitch. Another thing Deforestator found interesting about Lilo was that she always seemed to show up when you were thinking about her. Stitch said hi and went to make faces at the new tikis. Stitch never really took to English; he learned for Lilo's sake but still preferred to use his native tongue. Lilo put the package on the counter in front of Deforestator.

Lilo had grown up a whole lot since they first met. She was a blossoming twelve year old now, her nose wasn't so round anymore and she had gotten much taller. Though he kind of liked it when she was small, he didn't have to look up to talk to her.

"Hey D., I've got something for you," Lilo said pushing the package toward him.

"Ooo, a present," Deforestator said gleefully. Last time she brought something it was the keys to his new wood carving shop.

He carefully sliced the package open to reveal a very well made wooden box. Glancing at Lilo for a second, Deforestator opened it. To see a box filled with paintbrushes. He had seen this kind before, but they where very expensive. "And breakable, don't forget breakable," said the little voice at the back of his head. Deforestator thought back to the broken paintbrushes sitting on his workbench.

"Lilo, they're beautiful. But I can't accept these, I-"

"But wait there's more!" Lilo said cheerfully and handed him a hand held hologram projector.

Deforestator was still confused but pressed play on the projector. Hologram projectors looked like CD players but instead of music it showed 3D pictures in a beam of light at the center. A picture of his own clawed hand appeared in front of them. It flexed between a fist and it wriggled its talons. Just when Deforestator was going to say something, the hand started changing. A confusing mess of notes and numbers flowed past. The purple skin started to shift and grow over the sharp claws, creating a surprisingly human hand. It flexed and moved just like a human hand then turned back into a claw.

"Do you mean… that I… my claws…," Deforestator was at a loss for words.

"That's right. You can come over to the lab any time and get your very own pair of retractable hands," Lilo smiled.

"But how did you know?" Deforestator said, still a bit shocked.

"The same way you find out everything on this island," She said.

"Nosy," They said together.

"That little, big-nosed, trogg! Where does he get off looking into my workshop?" Deforestator fumed.

"It's what he does. At least he's better than when I first met him, Nosy doesn't blurt something out every time he opens his mouth," Lilo said nonchalantly, "What I want to know, is why didn't you tell me that you were interested in art?"

"Um, well, I," Deforestator hated when she asked questions like this. He felt like a kid who was caught by his mom, which technically she was. He sighed, "Painting isn't my thing. I cut wood, that's why I have claws instead of hands. It's what I was created to do."

"No, you where created to destroy forests. Look around you," Lilo gestured at the shop, "If you or anyone on this planet did what they were born to do, none of this would exist. If you didn't stop and listen to Stitch the day we met, would you have come all this way?"

Now he remembered that day perfectly. Deforestator remembered that primal thrill of hacking down trees, the rush of adrenaline of being chased, the anger of being cornered, and what scared him the most, the feeling he had as he attacked Stitch head on. Deforestator knew that he meant to kill, but thankfully Stitch was able to stop him. If Stitch hadn't been able to stop him, would he have killed him? Would he have moved on to Lilo next? Sometimes he still had nightmares about that. But Stitch did stop him, and he told him that he couldn't chop down trees.

Stitch said, in a rough translation, "You can't cut down trees, but you can still cut wood. Humans won't mind that, you can join us, cousin."

Deforestator realized that Lilo was still waiting for an answer, "No, I wouldn't have."

"Then why stop with carpentering? Even if painting isn't your thing, you're still showing interest in something that you weren't created for. That's more than anyone on the council expected. I'm proud of you."

One look in her eyes said that she meant it.

"I have to go, but I hope you come by for that upgrade. Come on Stitch the day's still young!"

Stitch scampered up to the counter and said, "Later!"

The twosome left the store leaving Deforestator a bit dazed. Putting up his out to lunch sign he stepped back into his workshop. He sat down in front of workbench with Lilo's gift in his hands, er, claws. Not for long though. As soon as he could he would go to lab. Taking the small figurine from his pocket he began to finish the eyes. Once his little work of art was done he put it on top of the box. Lilo will be the first thing he would paint.

"I'm proud of you," Deforestator repeated, quoting her. Remembering the way her eyes looked when she said it.

Yes, those eyes were special.