Liquid Gem

Gemstones have been consistently popular. When some sap, by mistake, liquidated his family diamonds and then, out of panic, sold the mess at jewelry stores under the guise of ‘the new state of our beloved gems’, the world jumped on the trendy wagon. Nowadays, if someone were gifted hard gems instead of liquid gems, it would be a gesture of insult. A gesture that they were too old-fashioned to keep up with the modern times.

Of course, when it comes to new trends, there’s going to be a rare item from that trend. In this case, it was a gem called Visqin. Gossip from beauty parlors and grocery stores mentioned its so-called ability to promote a sense of fun and happiness and joy in a life of dread and darkness. In a vial the size of a baby’s finger, a mess of umber-colored fluid stayed hidden from the world.

Visqin was in Connor’s mind when he went to pick up his new animal at the shelter. Moonpie’s breed was a Maine Coon cat who lived her whole life in cramped cages and was cared for by less-than-competent staff. Without the grit and dirt clinging to her grey fur, she was a beautiful cat. The first introduction between the boy and the cat was nothing but affectionate.

“She’s a wonderful thing,” the lady commented as Connor signed the last of the adoption paperwork. “Such a shame she’s got depression.”

With a smile, Connor said, “I saw that on her post, and that’s why I chose her.”

In a short span of time from driving home to setting down the cage, Connor learned more about his feline companion. Moonpie was quiet and did little to nothing when she was on her own. When she laid her opal eyes on her new guardian, however, she didn’t hide her feelings and instead came over and butted her head against his leg, begging for attention. She hated the sound of running water but didn’t fight when Connor gently picked her up and cleaned the grit off of her fur. Instead, she was sitting quietly, enjoying the human’s attention while patiently waiting for the lovely bath to be over.

Connor finished his finals just days before; he had about a month of break to spend. He spent each day since her arrival playing with her, feeding her, cuddling with her, and feeding her again. She was a purring mess, and he loved every second of it.

It wasn’t until she returned to her usual habits -- sleeping all day, picking at her food, and just looking hopeless, that Visqin popped into Connor’s head again. Two weeks had gone by, and two weeks were left before he had to leave for school. Leaving Moonpie at home for several hours a day in her state was a no-go.

As soon as Moonpie fell asleep for the fifth time that day, Connor sat on the couch and worked on his laptop. All websites with a mere mention of Visqin were clicked on. Every search with variation keywords including ‘rare’, ‘gem, ‘fun’, and ‘visqin’ produced the maximum results that came to his fingertips. Bookmarks were heavily used.

The end results brought little confidence that he would find it. The only website that did was the one listing the various countries where Visqin was rumored to be available. Connor pulled out a pen and paper, listing the locations by distance, and then cheapest.

“You’re lucky you have me,” he whispered to the sleeping Moonpie, who took up the other side of the couch. “I doubt anyone else who adopted you would go this far to make you happy.”

As soon as he could, Connor booked flights for the first few countries. He dipped into his savings for the pet fees. Within the next day, he packed up his clothes and his cat and went to the airport.

The first stop was Stockholm, Sweden. With Moonpie strapped to his chest, Connor went around the capital, querying about Visqin and pointing at the mopey cat whenever someone asked him why the hell he was looking for it. He found people were more helpful when they saw Moonpie giving them sad eyes. He didn’t find the liquid gem in Sweden, though.

The next several stops were Glasgow, Scotland; Nice, France; and Ulsan, South Korea. Each city gave Connor a little information and Moonpie a little attention. Both weren’t satisfied with what they got.

It wasn’t until Connor and Moonpie got to the airport, waiting for the flight to New Zealand, that a posh, rich woman strolled past them. She was in a hurry, wearing various gems and a coat the size of 101 Dalmatian skins, and her name-brand suitcase hit a bump. In front of Connor’s eyes, a little glass container fell out of the side pocket that wasn’t secured enough.

This glass container had a reddish-brown liquid dancing inside.

Visqin.

The woman didn’t look back. No one else around Connor noticed. Quickly, he got the vial and sat down in the nearest chair. Moonpie let out a confused meow when he pulled her out of the cage and put her in his lap, grabbing the collar he got for her. With delicate work, Connor looped Visqin into the collar, so it hung behind Moonpie’s name tag. Almost immediately, the Maine Coon started purring.

Connor smiled.

He changed flights so he could head home, just in time for school to start back up. He kept a close watch on his cat for the next few days as they settled back into their Dublin home.

The gemstone brought out an interesting change of personality for Moonpie. Instead of being depressed all the time, she was stoned out of her little kitty mind. She was entertaining to watch as she made funny faces at radishes and made funny noises as she ate. If she wasn’t moving for two hours, it wasn’t out of depression but because she enjoyed being in that particular spot.

Moonpie was definitely fine, as long as the liquid gem was.