People Started Questioning Their Pet Iguanas

Yet, only now were people starting to question their pet iguanas. They wanted to know the answer to a lot of questions. One event, amongst the many, needed an answer. That was to what extent did the Iguanian government know about the plan for 911 and why was it ‘sort of’ allowed to happen? To Charls, 911 was a culminating event that was building up for the thirty-five years previous to the actual collapse of the towers. The terrorists had been working towards that end continually for years, but while people of other nations knew Osama Bin Laden as a household word, for some reason he never appeared in Iguanian media.
Charls remembered the morning of the attack. He was in Japan; had not watched the news the previous evening as per his usual routine — and went to bed early. The first thing he did when he woke up was check the stock market using his cellular phone. He typed in the symbol of Detroit Hydrogen Technologies and in place of the quote saw on the tiny screen, at five am in the morning, after just opening his eyes, the message that two airliners had crashed into the towers and that the market was closed. It was a rude awakening. Made ruder still by the guano on his pajamas that was deposited there by his newly acquired Iguana from Thailand.
He was on his way to a job interview for part-time teaching a little later in the morning and passed by a western girl. There were not many people around, as it was early in a quiet town on the Western seaboard of Japan, and he asked her if she had heard the news. The first words out of her mouth were, “That sounds like Osama Bin Laden.” Charls didn’t know who this mysterious sounding figure was. His government and media had not informed him.
He figured Osama Bin Laden was the Arab answer to the removal of the Shaw of Iran so many years earlier. One Iguana had quite a hand in the architectural redesign of this new Middle East power structure. One Iguana, winner of a Nobel Peace Prize. Charls wondered where the peace was.

“Well Jack, you’ve forced my hand. I’m gonna get out of this book and start telling the story myself.”
Jack looked around. There wasn’t anyone standing on the porch but him.
“Here it is the third chapter of the book and you’ve alienated every living Democrat. Fifty percent or so of Iguanian readers are now pissed, and didn’t you say somewhere that Golem is going to run for the presidency later on in the book. How’s it gonna look Jack?”
Jack hears the voice but it is from somewhere in his mind. That has to be it; Golem’s character hasn’t been developed on the page yet; if Golem is talking to him, it has to be in his head.
“Golem, I know you’re in there. It’s a part of the plan Golem. The book is going to piss off every last Iguanian in the world. There is something for everybody. Wait a bit if you think the Democrats are mad. Wait until the Republicans get their turn later. We’re going to take the box that society comes in, shake it up and see what breaks, and see what can be put back together again or replaced, and most importantly — what remains. Iguanians say they want new government policy; it looks to me like they pretty much want a new government. Who cares if their mad? The system is mad. Billions of dollars spent on an election that could be used to feed several entire starving nations for a year. Golem, later when you’re developed and see a bit of life, you will know what this story is about. You wrote it yourself. It’s just that you can’t see it yet cuz you’re stuck in a book. When people get mad they unbury things from deep in their soul. When it gets to the surface it can get worked out. They’re all worms Golem.
“Jeez Jack, ‘all worms’. That right there is gonna piss people off.”

Later Golem would change some, but for now he was acidic and gruff as guano and saw things through a narrow lens. Much later … he’d come to see that ‘all worms’ was a bit harsh, but Golem was that way; it was the way he was born, he’d change sure … one day he’d say not all are worms, for him that would be a quantum leap and enough to realign things … enough in the end to help him understand what it is he found, but for now he felt a deep sense of responsibility for everything that went on on Earth — good in that he had a caring for the human race, but bad in that it made him mean at times. He had a personality like the sound of sandpaper on a roughly hewn plank. When he said ‘yeah’ people smiled at him like he’d said something strange… ‘Yeah… they’d repeat, and Golem … he wouldn’t know what to say.