Aposematism / Honest warning signals
1
I begged my boss to let me do the interview with the fire historian. I have form, I told him. I’ve been close to fires in Brussels, in Sydney, in Manchester. Woke on a Sunday morning to the sound of breaking glass next door. Brown smoke wafting past my window. And we had a fire at home when I was a child. Sparks from the factory next door, there was a big hole in the roof. I have a certificate for completing a Fire Walk (Bowlers, Trafford, UK, 1992). But I threw away the video of me stomping across the hot cinders, mouthing my… I almost said mantra, then remembered that my boss had lost his wife last year, to a yoga teacher.
2
They had been rescued, the aunts believe, for a purpose. Both aunts wear dark-blue suits. Both have short grey hair. It’s hard to tell them apart. As their deputy and heir apparent, I have been let in on their secrets. Even at their advanced age, both aunts still find Sundays hard. The awkward singing, thunder of hell, the large peppermints forced down their throats.
3
There were still a few old people alive. Ask the oak they whispered, pointing a blue hand towards the window. It rained heavily. If we can’t have a weather forecast, we said, we’ll need tea. We weren’t overly concerned. We still had a parent company. Ruben frowned: There used to be a pub called the Oak. A mango moment was called for. Real fruit doesn’t exist anymore. Just an old saying. We took off our overalls, sat down. As that French woman once said Eat a cake and everything will disappear.
4
Don is, most certainly, a non-text character. He is responsible for H&S. In his previous life he has flown helicopters over lava flows. He has known bombs and a left hand. The index finger missing, the other fingers stiff, setting off the X-ray machines at airports. Everything has its own unfathomable finish. Don has never spoken about that day again. His metal fingers are now rust-free and shiny. A minute clicking sound as he picks up our coffee cups.
Fokkina McDonnell’s poems have been widely published and anthologised. She has three collections and a pamphlet and holds a Northern Writers’ Award. Fokkina now lives in The Netherlands. www.acaciapublications.co.uk @FokkinaM on X.
Note: Non-aposematic species have often evolved to mimic the conspicuous markings of their aposematic counterparts. This is called Batesian mimicry after the British naturalist H W Bates.