The smell appeared on Wednesday morning. There had been traces of it all week, but that Wednesday in particular was when it invited itself into the clerical office of Standard Seeds Ltd. It meandered through yellowish corridors, infiltrated their minimalist kitchenette and sank into every available couch, paying no mind to the rigid office cushions. Like a relative that overstayed their welcome, it seeped into the floor, smartly ignoring the “scent-free facility” notices hanging from the ceiling.
Though the smell was invasive, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the smog, which worked overtime to muscle out Kelowna’s morning sun. As a result, the past month was rather gloomy, save for a few pockets of sunlight one was lucky to catch between the hours of 10 and 11 AM.
No such pockets appeared on that Wednesday. And it was that very same morning when Thom turned into a perentie.
Squeezed into his leather chair, Thom’s nervous frame was routinely cracking at a handful of sunflower seeds while scanning the export logs from last night. Then it happened.
Crunch.
His lanky joints popped and contracted abruptly.
His face adopted a flattened structure. Near-sighted eyes bulged forth, the irises blooming like sweat stains on tight-fitted button-downs.
Crunch.
His neck lengthened, liberated at last from perpetual forward-leaning posture.
Like dandruff, his hair flaked off, giving way to scales — splotchy, curdled cream stretched across a dark roast body.
Crunch.
Black talons burst from appendages, and a tail erupted from his rear end, ripping his beloved striped trousers.
The reptile sat in his place for thirty-two seconds, cocked his head to the right, then returned to his original form — the same Thom but with a gnarly rip in the nether region of his trousers.
Eighteen chairs swivelled and slid from their cubicles in unison. Eighteen pairs of wire-rimmed eyes landed on Thom. They blinked. Even Mr. Leopold, the Big Boss, eyed Thom wearily through the surveillance cameras.
“Sorry, I think it’s the absence of sun,” Thom explained hoarsely, his vocal cords still recovering from rapid compression. “I didn’t mean to spring it on everyone like this. I, uh, I have some Aussie maternal ties… And the sun is a bit…essential for me. I can get a doctor’s note if that’s helpful,” he said.
A collective grumble filtered across the room, but nobody paid much mind to the disturbance. After all, Thom was a diligent clerk, and they were already behind schedule; work resumed promptly. Relieved, he continued squinting at the data log of sunflower seed exports.
Image Source: Ava Tsarynnyk
For the subsequent weeks, Thom worked through his lunches and breaks, volunteered to assist with the office’s quarterly revisions and even took extra shifts to preserve his fading image as top employee. But despite his diligence, his blunder was irreparable — valuable seconds were lost that day due to his condition.
During periods of lighter smog — when light enough for the sunshine to peer through — Thom was still Thom, a dedicated employee of Standard Seeds Ltd. But, as the fires increased in severity, in Thom’s place and dressed in his now-patched trousers sat the perentie, demurely munching on sunflower seeds. This sight became commonplace in the company, especially during the moulting periods. His shed skin began to appear around the office — curled at the doorstep or stretched limp across the secretary’s desk chair. On his first shedding cycle, a co-worker mistook the husk for Thom and asked about the status of the soil compatibility index. It didn’t reply, but the co-worker waited anyway.
Besides that, he never caused much trouble — all paperwork was left unchewed, office plants untrampled, and despite his reptilian form, he was polite enough to use the staff bathroom. Sometimes, it seemed he was still cognizant of social tact and offered a damp, unblinking stare that vaguely resembled an apology.
Admittedly, his cold-blooded state was a burden to the company — they were extremely behind schedule without his performance. But they could not remove him due to a yearlong contract, the cessation of which would create unwarranted legal troubles.
Convinced he would not return to his former Thom-ness, Mr. Leopold hired a replacement and surprised Thom with a corporate gift — a large hamster wheel-style power generator. Due to the shortage of daylight, the office’s hydro bills were getting out of hand, so this was the expert solution to both that and the lizard problem. This way, Mr. Leopold thought, Thom would become useful to the business again, and his salary would no longer be a sunk cost.
Meek, guilty and reptilian, Thom assumed the new role in stride. His office was shortly moved to the basement.
Eager to remain a valued team member, he ran marathons day and night, seldom stopping to lap at the water dish. And thanks to his tireless efforts, the office was bestowed with quality illumination that rivalled the other departments. The corporate indoor grass area was also rejuvenated, and as a result, the cafeteria transitioned to a fully vegan menu. In return, Thom was rationed sunflower seeds.
At first, mindless exercise was burdensome for Thom — pesky human thoughts of self-worth and purpose sometimes leaked through his meningeal membranes. He kept track of calendar dates, too, still hoping for a promotion.
However, as he continued his bouts of activity, the sensation of time passing dissipated, and his fixation shifted to the buzzing flies in the room. There were several of them. Thick, juicy, emerald ones, all droning aimlessly. They tasted meaty, probably. Nothing like bland sunflower seeds, the deliveries of which stopped long ago. He’d never known for certain, though; none ever flew near enough to catch.
The flies filtered about and multiplied, eventually landing on the perentie. The team upstairs only learned of his passing when the smell had acquired a trace of rotting flesh.
Worried the reptile condition was contagious, Mr. Leopold moved the company to St. John’s. The relocation set operations back significantly, and staff were instructed to resume work with renewed industrial vigor. Unbeknownst to him, the city would soon suffer from severe floods, which would unleash a regrettable case of fish mutation in their graphic design department…
Featured Image Source: Ava Tsarynnyk
