Fruit Nut
By Purrsia Kat

     Pumyra sighed as she sat at the Lair’s control console. Another peaceful day on Third Earth was about to close. The sun was fading behind the western horizon, leaving behind a brilliant smear of orange and red. But the beauty of it was lost on the bored puma. She was bored with it all, and felt ashamed of that fact. She knew she should revel in the years of lasting peace Third Earth has enjoyed since the other ThunderCats moved away to New Thundera. But Pumyra found the static peace Mumm-Ra’s final defeat brought stifling.
     Of course, Tygra had been assigned to the Lair with her. Not that that was any consolation. He was wrapped up in his garden -- the latest of his obsessively tended to projects. Pumyra’s eyes misted over as she thought back to the early days of their lonely Third Earth vigil, when she was the subject of Tygra’s passion. If she only knew then what she knew now...
     “Pumyra.” Tygra’s voice startled the puma and she gasped; she hadn’t even heard him enter the control room! “I’ll take over watch now.”
     Once she got over her initial fright, she looked over the tiger critically. “You’re filthy. Aren’t you going to wash up first?”
     Tygra didn’t bother to look down at his disheveled uniform, its usually vivid blues and grays obscured by smears of black earth. “No,” he replied blandly.
     “Whatever,” Pumyra said curtly, rising to her feet and throwing her hands up as if in defeat. She blinked back hot, bitter tears as she stalked out of the control room.

     Tygra paid little heed to the sleeping form next to him as the first rays of sunrise woke him. He quickly donned a clean uniform and bounded outdoors. A smile lit up his face and a whimsical melody played on his lips. He was happy. Happy to be going to tend his garden.
     It wasn’t far from the Lair. In fact, his massive garden stretched out in what used to be the open meadow directly in front of the feline fortress. He spent his nights on watch -- not watching the scanners for danger -- but staring out at the garden. His own Garden of Delights.
     No! Tygra mentally chastised himself. Don’t call it that. Don’t ever call it that. Silky. The Keystone. Those were weak moments you don’t need to remind yourself of, Tygra. This garden...this is your way of giving back; of making up for those lapses in resolve.
     “Right,” Tygra mumbled aloud as he entered the garden. “This is a good thing.”
     His eyes narrowed as the sound of girlish giggles met his ears. “Who goes there?” he boomed.
     Two young Warrior Maiden girls -- likely not even into their teens yet -- burst from a robust patch of lilies. They bolted down the stone path, still giggling.
     “Hey!” Tygra growled, “What’s the matter with you! I didn’t spend a week laying down a cobblestone path so you could trample the lilies!” He rushed to the flattened bed of flowers and knelt down, caressing a limp leaf as if it were the limb of an injured loved one.

     Another loathsome day, Pumyra thought, dejectedly. Another day that promised to be like the hundreds before it. Tygra would be gone tending to his garden full of flowers, bushes, and trees. And she would wander the Lair, bored and lonely.
     Checking in on the control room, her spirits actually lifted when Lion-O’s face flickered onto the screen. “Ho, Pumyra,” he greeted her. “How goes things on Third Earth.”
     “Ho, Lion-O. Same old same old,” she said through a forced smile, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Am I -- I mean, are we able to rejoin the gang on New Thundera now?” Pumyra asked bluntly, now fighting to keep her desperation at bay. She fought back tears as Lion-O’s expression told her everything.
     “Well, no, Pumyra.” He sounded genuinely sorry. “The new challenges we face here on New Thundera are keeping our Thundrillium supplies taxed. We just don’t have enough to make a trip to Third Earth in the Feliner. Actually, I envy you,” he continued, laughing good naturedly. “You’re enjoying all that serenity while I’ve got to govern a growing world.”
     Pumyra looked away and scowled, biting back a hot retort. Easy for you to say! You’re not stuck here and married to him -- that tiger with the accursed green thumb!
     “Hate to cut this short, but I’m going to be late otherwise,” Lion-O informed her. “Bengali is getting married today.”
     “W--what?” Pumyra choked.
     “He met a young tigress refugee a while back and has had eyes only for her since the day they met,” Lion-O explained wistfully. “I’m sure you can relate,” he added with a wink.
     “Oh yes,” she whispered hoarsely, “I can relate.”
     “Well, take care and talk to you in another week.”
     The screen went black.
     Coming out of her shock at the news, Pumyra leapt up onto the control panel and slapped at the darkened monitor. “Oh Bennie,” she wailed, “I still love you! I didn’t know it would turn out like this.” Sobbing, she sank to her knees. “I should have waited for you. I should have waited.”

     Tygra’s scowl deepened. At first, he thought it must be the young maidens and others like them causing the sporadic problems with his otherwise pristine garden. He had even been pondering putting up a fence to keep out the ungrateful vandals. But no. This was something more. Something was wrong. Many of the plants were beginning to wilt and turn brown.
     A million things ran through Tygra’s mind. Perhaps they hadn’t been enough rain. Or the soil was becoming to acidic. Damn, it had to be *something*. Tygra ran his fingers lightly down the smooth bark of a cherry tree...a tree that should have bore fruit by now.
     The tiger broke into a run, heading for the Lair. He had to rely on his skills in the field of chemistry. Yes, if he could just come up with some kind of fertilizer, he could save it.
     Rounding the corner near his lab, Tygra was stopped by a familiar female voice. “Tygra?”
     Turning to face Pumyra, Tygra was clearly distracted. “Oh, why yes Pumyra. What is it?”
     “You’re back early from the garden,” she said.
     Tygra was vaguely confused as to why she would state the obvious. Of course, if his mind wasn’t elsewhere, he might have noticed the flicker of hope in her voice. Or the desperation in her eyes. Or the tears that soaked her cheeks. “Yes, I uh, thought I’d work in the lab for awhile. Did you need anything?”
     “The lab?” Pumyra echoed.
     “Yes, the lab,” Tygra declared with measurable irritation. “I need to come up with a fertilizer of some sort for my garden. Something’s wrong.”
     “Oh, that figures!” Tygra was taken aback by the bitterness of her voice. “It’s always about that damn garden. I wish....I wish it *would* die!”
     Tygra snarled. “Have you done something to the garden, Pumyra?” He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and shook her. “Well, have you?” When her only response was to stare at him wide eyed, he continued to rage. “Do you know how much time I’ve put into that garden? Do you know what working in it does for my peace of mind? How could you be so selfish!”
     Pumyra’s blank expression dissolved as she began to laugh hysterically. “Me? Selfish. Oh, I think you’re the selfish one. Always out there weeding and planting and pruning. You’re crazy!” she screamed, pushing herself out of his grasp.
     “I’m crazy because I found something to take pride in? Perhaps you’re the one that needs to find a hobby,” he said mockingly.
     “No, it’s just I remember. I remember when you loved me like you do that garden. Now you cater to a plant more than you do me. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see I gave up being with Bengali to be with you...and now...now look at us!” Pumyra demanded between sobs. “Damn it, Tygra, I’m not one of your pet projects you can just tire of and set aside!”
     “How dare you,” Tygra whispered, his eyes narrowing. “This is not just some grand scheme I came up with -- whisking you away from Bengali and all that...that hogwash you speak of. I had no idea you even cared for him. You can’t count on anyone to make you happy, woman. Your happiness is up to you.”
     Pumyra snorted derisively. “Your keen sense of *understanding* simply endears you to me all the more, my dear.”
     “Listen, I don’t have time for this,” Tygra announced. Where was all this bitterness coming from, he wondered. And now of all times. Couldn’t she see he was dealing with a crisis?
     “Of course. You never have time for me,” Pumyra called as he walked into his lab.
     The door slid closed behind him, and he was thankful to be inside the quiet serenity of the lab. What was Pumyra talking about? He paid plenty of attention to her. He talked to her everyday, even. Ah, but he couldn’t worry about whatever imaginary problems she’d dreamed up. He had a garden to save.

     Tygra hadn’t slept in two days. The only good thing about the past 48 hours had been the fact that Pumyra had left him to his work in peace. Everything else had been a disaster. Tygra must have concocted a half dozen potions for his garden, none of which had any effect on the mysterious browning of the foliage.
     Tygra’s sunken eyes scanned his lab wildly. There had to be something he could do! He began frantically rummaging through the cabinets in the lab, hoping to find something -- anything -- that would be of use for a new, effective potion. As his hand swept the back portion of one of the lower cabinets, it met with something that didn’t feel like a bottle or vial at all. Tygra was shocked when he pulled the object out, turning it in his hand several times. It was a musty old fruit core he‘d tossed carelessly years ago, with four large seeds still in the center.
     Throw it out, tiger, he hissed to himself. No good can come of it.
     But...but he would just use the crushed seeds. It’s not like he would be eating the fruit.
     Tygra set about mixing the new tonic with a smile on his face. A bit of seed from a Silky Fruit ought to do the trick.
     And it did. The potion brought the garden back to a vitality it never had before. Tygra was both pleased and amazed. He’d saved his garden!

     Unfortunately, the effects lasted only a few days. Tygra was agitated. The potion seemed to make the garden die faster once it’s revitalizing effects wore off. He needed more silky fruit cores. But that damn Snarf had been so thorough about keeping the Lair clean, another core was not to be found. It looked as if the core in the lab was the only one Snarf had missed.
     Tygra bided his time, pacing the halls of the Lair. He couldn’t bear to watch his creation wither before his eyes. And of course, he never did notice that Pumyra seemed oddly absent. If he’d walked into the room they shared he would have realized why. But the sight of Pumyra swinging from her tail-sling just off the foot of their bed would never burn itself into his memory.
     His garden nearly shriveled to nothing, Tygra couldn’t stand by and just do nothing. He jumped aboard the Hovercat, and headed east toward the Desert of Sinking Sands. He landed near the remnants of the Black Pyramid, which had been reduced to a pile of rubble thanks to a few well-placed sticks of dynamite. Years had passed since its demolition, and not so much as a stone had been disturbed since.
     Tygra, climbed the rocks nimbly, chanting ‘Silky’ under his breath all the while. Finally, he reached what remained of the magical cauldron. Its magical waters long since dried up, it was now filled with rubble and dust. Tygra set about digging the debris out, the pale moonlight his only light to work by.
     An hour or so later, the task was done. Tygra wiped his sweaty brow and stared down into the dry cauldron. “Silky,” he called in a monotone. “Siiiilky,” he moaned.
     Tygra’s eyes began to glow, and he looked up at the moon. His expression remained even as he called to the Ancient Spirits of Evil. A cataclysmic event followed, the likes of which had never before been seen on Third Earth. When the clashes of thunder ceased and the violent wind slowed to a breeze, Tygra the ThunderCat ceased to be. He lay motionless atop the flattened Pyramid.
     “He...he’s dead,” lamented a Wolo who gathered at the Pyramid’s ruins with a few other curious onlookers. “Whatever are we going to tell the other ThunderCats?”
     Indeed, Tygra’s eyes remained glazed and fixed straight ahead. That is, until an eerie red glow consumed them. The corners of his mouth twisted into a demented smile. An all too familiar cackle mixed with the screams of frightened Wolos.

Tending my fruit, tending my fruit
Ah, you've got to have a hobby
A man must have a shed to keep him sane

Spraying my buds, spraying my buds
Got to keep away diseases
I mix the poisons and the wife don't complain

Some people say
That I am out of my tree
Or just a strawberry fool
Someday they'll see
Till then I'll blow you a raspberry
'Cos apples and pears are me

So I'm tending my fruit
And I don't give a hoot
'Cos it keeps me sane, it keeps me sane

Some people say
That I am out of my tree
Or just a strawberry fool
Someday they'll see
Till then I'll blow you a raspberry
'Cos apples and pears are me

So I'm tending my fruit, tending my fruit
Ah, you've got to have a hobby
A man must have a shed to keep him sane
To keep him sane
To keep him sane
To keep him sane
To keep him sane
Oh, the wife can't complain
To keep him sane
To keep him sane
Yeah keeps him sane
To keep him sane


---Fruit Nut by XTC

 

 

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