Most kids love cartoons. Maybe I did for a while. But they were basic. They lacked edge. My main choice of entertainment had always been nature documentaries.
Even within this genre I picked my favourites. Epic swooping shots of the rainforest or gleaming Saharan sands were fine. But nothing touched my love of icy tundra.
Either the Arctic or the Antarctic would do. Icebergs were my mind’s landscape. I wished well for the creatures struggling across that snowy wasteland, and dreamt of swimming in impossible temperatures.
We recorded dozens to VHS. I watched them over and over until a smattering of digital snow joined the real stuff on the screen, and every voiceover was wordperfect in my memory. Even then, it took me a while to spot the creature in the background. The one with three horns, and shaggy curls of fur over its eyes.
I was not that surprised at first. Have you ever seen a walrus? Another odd creature stalking the Earth was believable.
But during my rewatches I scanned through the tapes, and found it in every one. A predator walking like a human, hiding in frame after frame. I pointed the animal out to Dad a few times. He always grinned, and left to do some housework.
In retrospect he should have told me nothing was there. To stop being so ridiculous. It might have made the difference.
Whenever a new show aired, I kept an eye out for the creature. And every time, there it was! Watching from the background. Peeking from behind a block of ice. Eating fish behind a field of penguins, paws covered in a blood so vibrant against the snow.
What was odd is that it kept looking at the camera. It kept looking at me. The motions were almost human. Beckoning. Drawing a shape in the air.
I realised that it could not be in the Arctic and the Antarctic at the same time. The world does not work like that. These are different places, on opposite sides of the globes. Only on my screen had they come together.
The last time it waved. This is when I made the mistake. I waved back.
This is what brought it into the room.
