Love is Shell
Ch. 1: A Strange Encounter
I suppose I should start at the beginning. That sounds odd, but really, where else does one start? I'm not sure how they found me, but I guess I ought to be glad they did. Especially since it changed the course of my life forever. And for the better- at least I like to think so.
It was one of those late December evenings, right after Christmas. The 27th, to be specific. I was walking home in a foot of snow from my part-time job at Channel 6, and since it was cold and very late at night, I wanted to get home as soon as possible. I never did like New York at night.
I was just passing a dark alley when suddenly, out of the shadows, three big- and quite f rankly, ugly- men came at me. The biggest one grabbed me, and holding me down on the frozen ground, began tearing at my clothes, while the other two pawed through my purse. They all leered darkly, and I tried to scream even while he was unzipping his own patched jeans. Just as he had managed to yank mine down, a shadowy hand tapped the ugly brute on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, but don't you think there are better ways to get a date?" A rather young-sounding male voice said. In fact, he sounded like he had not yet even left puberty behind.
"What's it to ya?" Answered the thug, getting up. He tossed me toward his companions, and all three stared into the darkness looking for the interloper.
"I don't think it would be wise to try to take us on," remarked another voice, somewhat higher. What was this, I wondered- a rescue by the acne patrol? Then again, who was I to complain?
"Yeah, it would be like- real dumb." The third speaker's voice was deeper, and reminded me of some surfer beach-bum. Okay, scratch that, I thought- the California acne patrol. Were these guys really serious? He also sounded much closer, though I still could see no more than my would-be attackers.
Then I felt a strong hand pulling me away from the nearest thug, with a grunt from the brute that told me he had just received a punch in the gut. I quickly got my clothes back into proper place, and moved over to the nearest wall, still straining to see my saviors.
Meanwhile, my attackers were running off like they had just seen ghosts, which wasn't too far from the truth. But of course, I still did not know that. However, I was about to find out.
Finally, I called out into the shadows, hoping that my rescuers were not actually ghosts after all. I might have wished they WERE a few seconds later, if I had known.… "I- I'd like to thank you for helping me," I said, finally regaining some composure. "But where are you? I can't see a thing!"
"That's the idea," said someone else. This voice was new, and sounded a bit sarcastic. Four? Just how many of them WERE there?
"By the way, who are you?" I asked, curious. I noticed there had been no real answer to my first question.
"Just some concerned citizens," answered the one who had spoken first. "And who are you?"
"Uh, my name is Orlene," I answered, wondering why they were being so cagey. Were these guys hiding something? "Orlene McCann. Pleased to meet you?" I said uncertainly.
"Sure, nice to meet you too," replied the one with the highest voice. Definitely teen-agers, I decided.
Then the one who had pulled me from the goons stepped into a patch of light. It was enough to make me have a heart attack! Suddenly, as it dawned on me what these four guys were, I fainted...
I woke several hours later- at least it seemed that way- in a strange place. I was lying on a rather tattered old couch in a large room, with solid brick walls. There were no windows anywhere, but there was a sturdy steel door along one side of the room, and a grate in the ceiling. The door was partially open; the sound of dripping water came from somewhere beyond. And that smell... I looked around the room, and saw a huge pipeline that had been blocked off leading from one part of the room.
"I must be in the sewers!" I said to myself in surprise, realizing where the stench was coming from. I gaped at the room, taking in the mostly bare walls, the cold, damp air, and the second-hand- or was it third- furniture.
"Like, no duh, man," said a voice from behind me. I whirled around and came face-to-face with the owner of said voice. I screamed. What else could I do? He was short- not much more than five feet, surely- bald, and GREEN. I jumped up onto the rickety coffee table, but soon realized that it made a poor sanctuary, then made a dash for the door- only to see another of the freakish-looking creatures standing there. I know it might seem like harsh words to use, but what else would you call them? They stood upright like human beings, but they had round heads with beak-like mouths and no semblance of a nose, only three thick digits, and large shells on their backs. In fact, they looked like...
"You- you're t-t-turtles!" I stammered out, as the realization hit me all over again. I gulped, and backed away from the door. This was too much weirdness. The second one stared at me almost curiously, but said nothing.
"Yup, so we are!" The one who had spoken confirmed in a cheerful tone. He sounded like the mellow surfer-type defender from the alley. My rescuers were turtles?! I gaped, unable to comprehend what was happening. How was this even possible?!
"Boy, we're looking at a real mind here," I glanced toward the door, and saw yet another turtle, this one with an oddly sarcastic expression. A fourth followed him in, and I sank back down on the old sofa, having become convinced that it was either a dream or some strange alternate reality. Or maybe I'd hit my head and was hallucinating. Clearly, I had lost my mind.
"Michelangelo, Raphael! Be quiet. You are frightening the poor child." A new voice barked out in an authorative tone, immediately drawing the attention of all four of the bizarre talking reptiles.
"Hai, Sensei," the two who had spoken replied, snapping to attention and bowing toward the newcomer with hands together in what seemed a formal show of respect. I slowly turned to look at the last one to enter, and almost wished I hadn't.
It was a huge rat, and by that I mean a GIANT rat, almost as tall as the four turtles. And why was he wearing a kimono? The insane thought came unbidden to mind. He sat down on a recliner near the couch, and I was suddenly aware that all of them were staring at me. As if I was the strange one.
At last, I managed a weak, "Wh- who are you?" This was rating about as high as an alien invasion on my freak-o-meter.
"I am called Splinter. These are my sons. We live here, under the city, and I have trained them as ninja. Please, introduce yourselves, my sons." The rat replied. He sounded a little old, for he had that sort of wise quality to his tone that only old people ever have.
"I am Leonardo," said one who had entered last, stepping forward to give a polite bow. I recognized his voice from the alley encounter. He wore a blue mask over his eyes, and I briefly wondered why a turtle would need a mask, but didn't ask.
"I'm Donatello," another said with a warm smile, coming up beside his fellow turtle. His mask was purple, and his voice was higher. Younger, maybe? Then again, who could tell?
The third one simply leaned casually against a wall, and gave a half-assed salute. "Yo, Raphael's the name," he said. I decided he must be the one with the attitude, and was proven right when his discourteous remark earned him a glare from the rat. He was in red. I was starting to notice a pattern of sorts.
Then the one I'd seen first came forward, and gave me a grin as he introduced himself. "Uh, I'm Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey. Everyone else does," he said, and winked at me. I wondered what it meant, but shelved the question for later. He wore orange, and he struck me as the laid-back one from before. I wondered why they were all named after painters, but decided it really didn't matter.
"Now you know who we are; and who might you be?" The rat asked in a polite and curious tone. Then the one named Leonardo spoke up.
"Her name's Orlene, Master Splinter. She mentioned it last night. That is, before SOMEONE blew our cover by letting himself be seen!" He glared at the one in orange, and got a sheepish cringe in response. He seemed to be the one in charge, taking the initiative as if he was the leader.
"Sorry, dude, I didn't know she could see me!" The accused replied guiltily.
"Excuse, me, but I CAN speak for myself, you know," I interrupted, irritated. They were talking as if I wasn't even in the room, which was highly annoying.
"Uh, sorry," apologized Leonardo. The others mumbled apologies, looking at the blue-masked turtle as if for direction. He definitely seemed to be the alpha of the group.
"I'm really grateful to you all for saving me," I said after a moment, realizing it might be a bad idea to annoy these- what exactly WERE they, anyway? "Oh, and I'm pleased to meet you," I continued. Under my breath, I added, "I think." Only the rat seemed to catch the last part, for he smiled and chuckled softly to himself.
"You know, I think she should stay here for a while, Master," said the one called Donatello. "She probably shouldn't be alone right now, and it's safer down here," he continued.
"Perhaps you are right, my son," replied the rat. Splinter, I corrected myself mentally. Then I realized I was giving names to hallucinations, and decided I really HAD lost my mind.
"N- No! Oh, no- there's no need for me to stay!" I protested, jumping up, even though it made me slightly dizzy. Had I hit my head during the attack after all? Or was I just dreaming all of this? "I- I wouldn't want to be a burden on anyone. Besides, I- I have to go home and feed my cat!" Okay, so I was just frantically searching for an excuse to leave. ANY excuse. This was all just too much!
"Hmm, maybe she's right," said Leonardo. Was it a bad sign that I was already learning their names? I wondered. I was even starting to get used to the smell. "I mean, what if she has a job? She might get fired for not going," he went on. "Maybe we should just take her home."
"Typical, Leo- always thinking responsibly." Chided the one in red. Raphael- that was it. What was his problem, anyway? I wondered. He seemed to have an antagonistic streak a mile wide.
"Yeah, guess I wasn't thinking," said Donatello with a shrug.
"Heh, THAT'S a switch," Raphael joked with a smirk. He was definitely the snarky one of the bunch. Which left the other one- Mikey, he had called himself- who had been strangely quiet.
But the talk had reminded me of a very important detail- they had said I'd been there all night! "That reminds me, what time is it?" I asked worriedly. Speaking of jobs...
"Um, a little after ten," Michelangelo said, looking at his watch. Why would a turtle need a watch? Okay, this was REALLY weird. For that matter, why didn't they wear any clothes? Didn't they ever get cold in winter? Not to mention the issue of decency... On second thought, best not to even think about that.
"Oh, no! I should have been at the station hours ago! April is probably wondering what happened to me, and my boss is going to KILL me!" I exclaimed in a panic. I had only been an intern at the news station for a few weeks, and now I was sure to be fired. I searched around frantically for my cell phone, but didn't see it. For that matter, what had happened to my purse? "Anyone seen my purse? I have to call the station!" I asked, desperate.
"Station?" "Did you say April?" "Is that station like, Grand Central, or like, CNN?" "Hey Donnie, where did you put it? We brought it here, but Donatello had it last." Four voices started talking at once; it was confusing, to say the least. I latched onto the statement from the one named Leonardo, who had at least mentioned my purse.
"Where is it?" I asked, turning to the one in purple. He pointed over to a small table in a corner, and wonder of wonders, there it sat. I dashed over and began pawing through it for my phone. It wasn't there.
"You didn't see a cell phone last night, did you?" I asked, glancing from one to another. Four little green men all frowned sadly and shook their heads. I had just about decided they were Martians. They HAD to be, to look like that, didn't they? Little green turtle-men from Mars... A new thought occurred that perhaps I'd taken a harder hit than I'd thought, and was now in some Twilight Zone dream world. Or New Jersey- I'd heard some pretty strange people lived there...
"Did you mean April O'Neil? The reporter?" The one named Leonardo prompted, looking at me expectantly.
"Well- yes, why?" I asked, wondering how they had heard of her. Did turtles watch the news? Well, color me amazed. I would have pegged them as fans of badly-dubbed Japanese B-movies. Godzilla or Rodan, maybe.
"Do you know her?" Raphael suddenly perked up, staring at me strangely. In fact, they all had incredulously astonished looks, like maybe I was the Second Coming.
I nodded, not quite sure what to say. "Yeah, she's sort of my mentor while I'm doing my internship," I said uncertainly, wondering why they were suddenly so interested in a news reporter. Then again, for all I knew, they might just have some sort of fan-boy crush on her. Which would be weird, but who was I to judge?
"Huh. Small world, eh guys?" Raphael snorted, smirking again. I was starting to think that was his default expression. "She's a friend of ours. Funny, but she never mentioned you," He continued.
I stared back at him skeptically. "Yeah, and I'm personal friends with the Pope," I retorted, matching his usual tone. His eyes narrowed for a moment, realizing that he had just been mocked, but his return comment was cut off by the one named Leonardo.
"No, it's true. We've known her for a couple of years now. Why don't you ask her sometime?" The others all nodded in assent, and I was left wondering how in Hades name she could know about four giant talking turtles living in the sewers and never tell anyone. Then again, considering how crazy it sounded, I certainly didn't want to tell anyone!
"Well, I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered if she'd mentioned you guys," I said, looking around the room at the four. And then there was the rat. He was still sitting there, listening to the conversation, but had said nothing. I glanced over at those beady eyes watching me with keen intellect, those whiskers twitching at me curiously, and suppressed a shudder.
"Miss O'Neil has agreed to keep our existence a secret from the outside world out of gratitude. My sons have saved her life many times when her work put her into danger." The rat said it so matter-of-factly that I knew it was the truth. Besides, he seemed like the no-nonsense type, unlike the room's four reptilian occupants.
I sat down, feeling depressed now that I had lost my cell. Now I had no way to call work and explain my absence- not that I COULD explain any of this- and probably no job. "Well, this is just peachy," I muttered. "I'm down in a sewer with a bunch of carnival side-show attractions with no phone to call the real world or even snap a photo to prove it happened!"
Then I felt eyes on me, and it wasn't just the rat. Splinter, I reminded myself again, though why I felt the need to memorize their names was anyone's guess. I looked around, and realized that one of them had been strangely silent during the last few minutes. The one in orange- Michelangelo, or Mikey as he had called himself- was leaning on the arm of the sofa, with a sketchpad in one hand, and a pencil in the other, scratching away and glancing at me every few seconds. Inquisitiveness won out over uncertainty, and I scooted closer to see what he was doing, craning my neck to look.
"What is that?" I asked, curious.
"It's nothin' much. Just doodling. What do ya' think?" He shrugged and smiled shyly, and turned it for me to look. It was a sketch of me sitting on the couch, but it was anything but a doodle. I was genuinely surprised to discover that he was as good as any professional artist I'd ever seen.
"You pay a lot of attention to detail," I said appreciatively, gazing thoughtfully at the work for a moment. "You did this in just a few minutes? I like the shadows there, and how you even included the tears in the pattern on the sofa. The edges are a little fuzzy- was that intentional?"
"Whoa, dudette! I just asked for an opinion, not an art review! Can't a guy get a straight answer?" He seemed slightly frustrated, or maybe nervous. Maybe he had never actually met someone who appreciated his talent before.
"Well," I protested, "you asked for my opinion and you got it. I think it's very good." He practically beamed at that, and somehow I felt better for having made him happy. I decided that this chilled would-be surfer-dude might have more to him than was apparent at first glance. Little did I know...
After a bit of discussion, it was decided that I should remain there for the rest of the day. Fortunately, my new acquaintances had their own phone- I had to wonder why a bunch of giant turtles would need one, and who would they talk to?- and they even had the number for Channel Six, which lent an odd credence to their claim of knowing April. I still had a hard time believing that they were friends of my mentor, but I couldn't exactly refute the possibility, either. I told my boss that I'd lost my phone on the way to the doctor after getting sick, and though Mr. Pennington yelled a bit, I somehow managed to keep my job. Then I called April and told her to meet me after work, because I had a BIG surprise for her.
I spent the next few hours getting to know my new friends. After the initial shock, I discovered that, appearances aside, they were actually fairly normal- at least if one can call five-foot humanoid reptiles normal. I learned that they had once been ordinary pet shop turtles, dropped into the sewer by accident and exposed to a radioactive mutagenic goop. And I'd thought MY childhood sucked... Turns out, Splinter was once the beloved pet of a ninja Master, and had watched him practice his art until the fateful day his owner had been killed, and he had been left homeless to fend for himself. After ending up in the sewers, doused by the same green ooze that had transformed his four "sons", he too had undergone a strange and miraculous change. I decided then and there that my first major report once I got my break would be about the appalling state of New York's sanitation system.
I met April several hours later, in the subway station on 33rd street, not far from my apartment. "Hi, April! Sorry I missed work today, but you'll never believe what happened to me!" I said, strolling toward the tunnel.
"So what's the big surprise you were talking about?" She asked, following me to the end of the platform. She looked a little confused when I started to slide along the narrow ledge beside the tracks.
"Come on, and I'll show you!" I said, motioning her to follow. She looked around curiously, but finally did so. When we'd gone far enough from the platform, and came to a small maintenance junction, I called out cautiously. "Hey guys, you can come out now!"
Almost as if by magic, four shapes came out of the shadows, revealing the four mutant terrapins. "Hi, April! Bet you didn't expect to see US!" Michelangelo said with a laugh. All four were grinning ear to ear. Or they would have been, if they'd had ears.
"Guys?! What are YOU doing here?!" She exclaimed, astonished.
"Oh, we rescued Orlene here last night while we were going out for pizza. She got jumped by some thugs on her way home. We heard a scream and came running. That's when we found her. Then Mikey had to go and show himself, and she fainted, so we had to take her to the lair." Leonardo explained, glaring at his brother.
I did a double-take at his mention of pizza. For some reason I hadn't considered what they might eat. "Pizza? You eat pizza?!" I asked incredulous.
"Sure, doesn't everybody?" Raphael replied, puzzled.
I gave him a confused look, and shrugged. "Well, I just thought maybe you guys ate lettuce or something. That reminds me, I'm starving! What do you boys have to eat?'
"Pizza! What else?!" April and the four turtles said in unison, laughing.
"Ask a stupid question," I remarked wryly, rolling my eyes. They just snickered, and we all headed back to their lair.
We spent the rest of the night back in their underground home. By now, I was starting to ignore the smell, which really wasn't so bad. They lived in a part of the sewer that had been closed off from use for years; apparently the city had decided that repairing the section of pipes and tunnels was too expensive, and had instead elected to block it off from the rest.
I was surprised to discover that they were quite the "party animals", though I suppose I shouldn't have been. We ate pizza, played video games and charades, listened to music, joked around, and danced until late into the night. Ever the patient and understanding teacher and parent, Splinter had gone off to meditate alone after a simple dinner of rice and sushi, leaving the rest of us to enjoy the evening. Michelangelo turned out to be quite the dancer, and did a few impressions as well. I had never had so much fun in my life! Even April got in on the fun, and we laughed, talked, and danced until the wee hours, when we all just fell asleep wherever we happened to flop down.
Thus ended my first day of knowing those wild and crazy dudes. I was only a year older than Leonardo, who was the oldest at eighteen, the others being a half-year younger. As strange as it seemed, I no longer even thought of them as monsters or freaks; in spite of their unusual origins, they were like any other ordinary teens, having fun and enjoying life like anyone else. So what if they were green, cold-blooded, and had no hair? They cracked jokes, razzed each other, and had their favorite movies and songs, just like teens everywhere. I felt comfortable with them, strange as that might seem. Like I'd known them for years. Even then, I knew it was the beginning of something special.