The Tale of Harry Elephante
By: Tom Starita
Tags: Flash Fiction, Writing, Fiction, Baby, Short Story

A long, long time ago, there was an elephant named Harry Elephante. Harry was known far and wide for his famous singing ability. Crowds of elephants would gather to listen to Harry croon his majestic tones and hit notes once deemed impossible by elephant musical historians.

For Harry Elephante, life was good.

The years rolled by, and Harry traveled the globe, performing for adoring crowds of not just elephants, but hippos, rhinoceroses, giraffes, and other woodland creatures who could appreciate a good tune. Harry always wore a smile on stage, but offstage was a different story. Not depressed, not dejected, simply aware that something was missing from his life. He didn’t know what this “something” was, and depending on his mood, he either pondered the thought or washed it away in a torrent flood of booze, loose elephants, and a copious drug habit.

After one riveting performance in the Florida everglades, Harry sat backstage on his enormous, elephant-sized leather couch. The room was filled with an assortment of musicians, production folks, hangers-on, and groupies, but one pair of elephant eyes caught Harry’s attention. He told one of his security pandas to bring over the particular elephant from across the room. Her name was Brandi, and two years later, they were wed — on one condition: Harry had to clean up his act. Drugs and loose elephants were no longer on the menu. She could live with the booze.

For Harry Elephante, life was good.

A couple of years later, Brandi squatted underneath her favorite Banya tree, trying to pee on a pregnancy reed. She stared at the reed for what seemed to be an eternity before the reed turned blue.

She was pregnant!

Harry was overjoyed and happily joined his wife, Brandi, watching every newborn elephant video and reading every newborn elephant book they could find. He joined all the newborn elephant parent groups online and participated in all the arguments over vaccinations, elephant rearing, daycare, and the best movie sequel of all time. The one thing Harry knew was he knew nothing. But no one truly knows anything, and that made his anxiety lessen a bit.

Twenty-two long months passed until Brandi’s trunk awoke Harry. It was time! They raced to the Animal Cracker Hospital and let nature take its course. Brandi pushed and pushed and pushed some more until Harry saw the top of his baby elephant’s head coming out of Brandi’s trunk. The sight of his daughter on the precipice of life overwhelmed Harry, and tears of joy poured down his elephant face.

*Note: This is exactly how elephants give birth. Please don’t ruin a good narrative flow by stopping here and googling, “How do elephants give birth?” and for God’s sake, don’t go down the elephant hole by watching elephant births on youtube. You’ll never come back and finish the rest of this story*

Anyway…

The newborn elephant crawled its way out of Brandi’s trunk and into the tiny hands of their doctor. Brandi’s normal OB-GYN was an ostrich named Lucy, but she wasn’t available that day. Instead, a mongoose named George safely delivered their baby. George announced they had a baby girl and placed her on Brandi’s chest. Harry wept even more tears of joy and alternated between kissing Brandi and staring at his daughter, an elephant he had just met but loved more than anything else he had ever seen.

And that’s Harry heard the commotion.

Suddenly the doors flung open, and a rich asshole named Yates, along with his college lacrosse buddies Chip, Yancy, Fieldwith, Spencer, and Thurston, stormed into the delivery room. Yates grabbed his assault rifle, dropped down into position, and fired, killing Harry instantly. His lacrosse bros cheered and took pictures of Yates standing next to his fresh kill.

C’mon.

Really?

No — obviously, that didn’t happen.

Do you think I would write this lovely tale and then end it on such a horrible note? Of course not! I’m not a monster. I’m not an elephant either — just a man. A man who believes hunting elephants is wrong, and anyone who does is probably a rich asshole with a jerkoff first name.

Anyway…

Back to the story.

Brandi cradled their newborn daughter while the mongoose doctor finished cleaning up Brandi. One of the nurses on staff, a raccoon with a gambling problem, congratulated them and asked for the baby’s name. Harry and Brandi smiled and said at the same time,

Chloe Shay.

The raccoon nurse nodded and asked,

“Shay? Like Shea Stadium?”

Brandi shook her head no while Harry nodded his head yes.

More time passed before Brandi looked up at her husband and asked if he wanted to hold his daughter? Harry once again nodded his head and held Chloe for the first time. He stared into her eyes, and that’s when everything clicked.

He had found it.

The something that was missing. What he had been searching for all his life. He was finally at peace and the happiest he had ever been, until the next day when he was even happier.

Harry, Brandi, and Chloe were a family, and they lived happily ever after.

The End.