Pastey Soled Lola (two)

Wrinkled and rough the models and products came to life jerking as they walked around and interacted with their pasty counterparts whose faces and hands were oblong and sharp.  Some of their eyes were blue, others were clocks, some ears were radios and others were soup cans, this was Lolaland. In her dreams life had only two dimensions and these two dimensions were filled with things that Lola loved and held near to her heart. Each dimension meant everything and nothing to her and she liked it that way, there was no grey sea to get lost in. The third dimension was only an obstacle for Lola, it was an area of unnecessary vastness that swallowed those who embraced it. The terrors of work, the toils of boys and the terrible loneliness she felt knowing her father had drifted out to sea and was never coming back, all existed here. Lola's father Sam had a thing for fish, but not your typical halibut or sand dabs not even the crazy ones with spotlights on their heads, he only hunted the Mola Mola. The, round, sloppy Molas caught in the currents of the Pacific Ocean, were the objects of his desires. Sam had no intention of harming or even capturing the Mola, he only wanted to learn from them. Sam himself was a simple man, simple like Lola, but not always so. Sam used to be an angry man, caught in the third dimension, lamenting over its depressing depth and Sam found these depths to be frustrating. Everything felt like a chore for Sam and he didn't know why, and he was clueless as how to fix this. While shooting young, jaded vanity on the starboard side of a yacht one afternoon, he saw a Mola float on by, caught in a current heading for Mexico. Sam had no experience in talking with fish and had never even studied their language. There was just something about this sunfish's swagger that reeled Sam in, so he yelled, "Hey Mola, how the hell do you do it? Just float around all day... Don't ya get bored out there? Don't you regret not swimming faster or slower or maybe even jumping?" The Mola bobbed, it bobbed again, and then was hit by a wake that sent it rolling to its other side, identical to the one Sam had first seen. Sam found this to be relieving. The identical side, no darker, or fatter or longer than the other, was simple and that’s all it needed to be. Sam was overcome with a sense of urgency; he had found a way to flee his prison of responsibilities and expectations. From that day on, Sam sought to see life as the Mola Mola saw it, slowly, relaxed, shallow and planktonic. So Sam sold all of his cameras except for one. It was the oldest, most worn out camera he owned, it even had a small crack in the lens. This was Sam’s simplest camera, so he decided it would be the most appropriate way to document his journey.  Sam sold ton's of equipment, decades worth, and with the money Sam bought a boat. It wasn’t a fancy boat with doo-dads, radar and a spaceship engine, it was simple, it was wood, it came with two paddles and a canopy for cover. Sam was gunna use this boat to become a Mola, to drift out to sea and hopefully find the edge. Sam was sad to leave Lola, but he knew he had to show her the individuality of dimensions because he never wanted her to feel trapped like him. Before leaving Sam put the rest of the money from the camera sales inside a magazine and hid it under Lola's bed, knowing one day she'd find it when she needed it the most. With little Lola by his side for the last time, Sam pulled his boat down the sand, the simple camera bounced off his chest. The boat finally dropped in the midst of wet sand and the simple dad and simple daughter stood there laughing at how the sand crabs tickled their feet. Sam and Lola took a seat on the boats edge, Lola's legs swung back and forth into her dad's. He held her, brushed her hair, kissed her cheek and said, "It's time for me to be with the Molas, Lola. My life is too bloated, and I need to deflate. I'll miss you, but I know one day you'll need to explore the layers of life as well, and eventually understand." Sam snapped a picture of Lola, her strawberry hair glowed in the light, he placed her on the sand and pushed his boat into the white water. She watched him struggle with a smile and eventually slide outside the breakwater. Sam raised his hand highs and waved back at the beach, he took one last picture and started his journey to the edge of the sea.