Tiko

Prologue

"The wolf howls to the moon, and with it call, more sing to the symphony altogether, to call the moon home; so that the day can return." That is what I was told in my young years, specifically when I was age 9, by the man who protected Tiko, about the howls in the night, or the dark. It was told by him in such a way that it felt like every wolf sang in a mystical symphony. However, now that I am older, I know now that it was made to develop the wonder and curiosities to children, about the wolf's call. I was taught that wolves were majestic creatures, created by God himself; to sing to their loved ones & to protect their own. But I'm getting ahead of myself...This is a story about a wolf, who saw one eye of day, and the other eye of night, with a black coat of fur and a body bigger than I was, growing up in the same neighborhood. 

Many people make jokes about the local Florida man, or how Florida is known for their wacky and very endeavored people; to which they are not wrong, for I was one of them. However, one thing I always put my foot down on is that Florida is a state with no country attitude, to which case, I always prove them wrong. People see Florida as a big city state due to the beaches and the outskirts of the state being mostly tourist traps or beach goers; especially those who devour themselves with great seaside fresh catch seafood. However, other than its capital, the inner sanctum of the central Florida is that it could be preferred more of a farmer's state than most believe. I even would call it the distant, more wild side, cousin to Texas just by its basis of mere country living. The center of Florida, other than the speckles of cities here and there, was bathed in southern country homes, horse ranch combs, equestrian tracks, rodeos, and the usual cowboy and cowgirl flare to the state.


The small town I lived in, was the same sort of living lifestyle design, the big village of Chiefland, Florida. It was too small to be a city, but was bigger than a small cottage, or western village. it felt like the town was speeded out like dough but was thin enough to not break apart. The city only had one tall building, and I believe it was the community center or the small-town gathering hall. the rest that was big only applied to a Walmart, when it had the original golden smiley face as its logo, a drive-thru-only Waffle House like fast food place, a small-town square for small mom and pop shops or stores such as a Win-Dixie or a Publix. One hotel in the center of the small town, and a few little foods stops like a McDonalds or a KFC...the rest was either the walk-in Pizza Hut or small mom and pop diner or BBQ restaurants. There was even, at the heart of the town, one big public school for ages Pre-k, to kindergarten, all the way up to middle school. There was even a daycare just across the road from that school, literally. and just under it, just a few streets down, was a small town high, which had its own track and football course in one for anyone to use, even its own mini gym room where mother knew the gym teacher well enough to join them, and we were always invited to work out there. There was even a bike trail, that was hidden behind a slight line of trees. It could travel through and from along the inside of the small town that went as far as, possibly, to Miami, just passing through these places, even with an added farmers market, although looking back on it, may as well have been a sketchy market of sorts. You could even add four distinct gas stations, a few churches, and a barely classified & very sketchy ford car dealership and yet it still would seem like a big city, but it wasn't, it felt like a very spread-out small town. and right outside the town, was Manatee springs, it was a tourist trap of course, but it was clearer than any other river or lake I have ever seen, other than other springs of course. It was home for me, and will always be, but even times change; things are not what they use to be, and who knows how much has changed there. 

If there is one thing about this town, everyone knew everyone, this small town felt like it was built on a very social community. If you were not social with anyone, either you were new to the town itself, or was ousted due to past history or a crime you committed within the town. If rumors were a wildfire, chances where we would have all died by how fast it was spread from one place in town to another. It felt ungoverned by a mayor, and even the police and fire department were right next to each other. Heck, from memory, they were both right across the street from the only, truly, tall building in the town. Nowhere you didn't go within the town, no matter officer, butcher, or even the simple cashier, everyone, knew everyone.

As for me, it was me and my mother against the world in my eyes. My mother was always severely overprotective of me, in both physical and mental ways. As an adult now thinking back, I can see why now, but as a kid who was diagnosed to be on the spectrum of autism at the age of five or less, I never saw a flaw about myself, only the thought of I shouldn't be overly shielded when the interest of summer and its open wonders awaited me outside of the small cozy home we had. When she was at her work, she would type behind a computer with a black screen and green letters, as if it were the codes from the matrix behind her cubical, while on my summers when there was no babysitter and she could not trust me yet, I would sleep under her desk, so I would not get my mother in trouble with her boss. Many even probably are asking about the daycare I mentioned before, turns out they kicked me out, by the time they diagnosed me with a type of autism and prescribed my mother for me to get some pills, I was prescribed as a problematic child. My own mother even said if the song "Highway To Hell" had a little devil running around in it, I would be the rascal that played the song as it were a national anthem. Apparently, I could not easily convey emotions let alone understand emotions when I was little, and, while my handwriting was horrible and still technically is to this day, I was able to write better of what I wanted to say than I was able to speak. Well, cannot say the same for babysitters, and this was after i got my pills; guess they could not handle the personality I had in such a tiny little body. Possibly, for the best as well, after all, I had only two more years of summer left before I left Florida.

So, with little patience and money my mother had left, at one point during the summer, she entrusted me to do what I am told when I'm home alone. As an over expensive imagination child, I did the exact opposite. I decided on times I knew mother would be late or take longer by going grocery shopping before coming home, I took advantage of it and went to explore the town on my bike. However, there was one peculiar day of the explorative summer years, one that changed my life forever, it was the day, that I finally met her. The one who saw through the eye of day, and the one who saw through the eye of the night.