It’s true, somewhere.
Once, and only once, there lived a turtle by the name of Sherman, he didn’t have a last name, most turtles don’t. His shell was brown and held together by geometric panels, just as the great creator wanted it to happen. The rest of him was forest green, he had big dark brown eyes.
Warning: Do not get too attached to Sherman, he dies in the end.
Sherman lived on an island by the name of Buru-jiji in the middle of the Pacific (about 120 nautical miles southwest of Midway), the island is a perfect rectangle, its longest side is eleven miles and the shortest three.
Note: “Buru” means eleven and “jiji” means three (or maybe the other way around), in some native language belonging to some people that aren’t on the island anymore. They aren’t there anymore because during the Battle of Midway, a US battleship got lost due to the fact that the only compass onboard didn’t work, they eventually got to Buru-jiji and made every single one of its residents into fertilizer; the circle of life! Only animals live there now.
Today is a special day, as had been yesterday, and so will be tomorrow. See, turtles have three birthdays in a row, a trinity of joy, it’s actually the same birthday but it takes three days. It’s an old turtle tradition to have a birthday last three days, it’s their belief that a turtle is first born in a physical aspect (meaning, only the body, shell included), that’s day one. The next day the birth of the mind happens and they start to acknowledge those around them and their surroundings, that’s day two. On the third day, turtles create their function for existing, after acknowledging everything, they ask “why?” Most people would consider this the existentialist part of the turtle’s birth, but it’s really the spiritual birth of the turtle.
Note: Existentialism is idiotic.
In the third day of birth, it is the job of each newborn turtle to ask themselves, “Why am I here?” They give themselves their function, some chose to be a tool to make others happy, so they help other turtles with whatever they can. Some make a house and have a family, some learn and learn until they don’t have time to learn and instead teach and teach other turtles. Others, the adventurous ones, make their function to go around the whole island and find new and great things for the other turtles, the list goes on and will keep going on until all the turtles turn into fertilizer.
When Sherman was born he was very happy to do so, and on the third day the question came about, he was on a rocky cliff in the western part of the island (it’s where he was born). He’d found a rock twice his size that resembled a mountain, he had leaned against it so that his whole stomach was on it and he was standing against the rock with his hind legs, he was looking up. It must have been around noon, the sun was directly above Buru-jiji, Sherman was very relaxed against the mountain-like rock when the question crossed his mind, as he was looking up at the clouds with a smile.
“What am I here for? I was born with a purpose, but what is it?”
He was asking the clouds very innocently, like a naïve five year old, even though he was much younger.
Turtles believe that clouds are the great creators stepping stones, they believe he or she or it, goes around the world looking over all his creations, using the clouds to jump across the whole globe. It was the clouds that the creator would use, and had used, to make everything in the mud-ball called earth. They believed that life was created using three key ingredients, dirt from the ground, water from the clouds and energy from the clouds (lightning), the winds that encircled the globe below the clouds but above the ground is what would turn the gears of life and mix and match the ingredients so everything would be how it was, how it should be.
Sherman the turtle thought about the question for about five minutes with a smile on his little turtle face.
“I’m here to be happy for the rest of my life, because that’s what the creator wants me to do. The great creator wants me to smile all I can and mean it; the creator wants me to be happy by any means necessary!”
Note: It’s about 65 years after Sherman’s birth.
This is how turtles celebrate their birth trinity:
Day One – In respect to their physical birth, each turtle is to lounge in solitude all day and eat his most favorite food or foods available to him or her, the food is to be prepared by the turtle and/or his or her friends and/or his or her family the day before.
Day Two – In respect to their intellectual birth, each turtle is to spend the majority, or all, of the day with his or her friends and family in his or her favorite place in the island, and is to recall the great times throughout the past year and/or his or her entire life.
Day Three – In respect to their spiritual birth, each turtle is to get seashell from the beach and go to either of the five altars in the island and place it there for the great creator, the trip should take about a days worth of sunlight if the journey is started early.
Note: There are five scattered peaks on Buru-jiji, when the US battleship was attacking the island they decided to use the peaks as target practice, blowing off the top of each peak so that each top was flattened. These man-made-mini-plateaus are what the turtles consider “the altars for the great creator.”
There are 72 turtles in the whole island of Buru-jiji, and no one turtle has the same birthday as any other, so one trinity never clashes with another. Turtles use the Gregorian calendar, they’ve used it ever since a pin-up girl calendar washed up to shore from the US battleship. Though they never understood the purpose of the pin-up girls, they figured out the calendar and adopted it as their own.
It’s day two for Sherman!
His favorite place, which is most of the other turtles’ favorite place as well, is a small pond in the middle of the island, by the time the water gets to the pond it’s no longer salt water, it’s fresh. Most turtles like this place because the stream that leads to the pond would enter the pond where two small cliffs had formed, sort of a step-like waterfall. Also, near the pond, there grows a plant called thapel, it looks a lot like an orange, except it’s all liquid inside and tastes like vomit to us. But turtles like it, it’s the Buru-jiji equivalent of alcohol, except it only gets you really dizzy. Turtles don’t move fast enough to get dizzy on their own, so they like the dizzy juice from the thapel because it’s an exciting and foreign feeling for them.
Sherman had gathered all his friends and family at the pond, he only had a brother and a sister, both older, but only by 30 years.
Note: Turtles live a very long time.
Around 7 of his closest friends were already there, and more kept arriving, they talked about the past year and went even further, talking about their early youth, when they would fall back on their shells and not be able to do anything about it. Or the time Sherman’s brother, Durham (whose life meaning was to explore the ocean), just took off one day and didn’t return until 2 years later. He’d ventured into the ocean, all the way to bottom, he came back to Buru-jiji with only one thing, a circular object no bigger than Durham’s head, it was inscribed with some foreign figures, it was Durham’s treasure.
Note: The circular object was actually a bottle cap from a Coca-Cola bottle, it had been tossed in the ocean when the US battleship made all the human natives of the island into fertilizer. Though littering is bad; in this case, it made Durham very happy and accomplished.
The turtles drank dizzy juice and talked more and more. For kicks, the turtles would drink dizzy juice then go into the stream that leads to the pond with their limbs and head tucked into their shell, the stream would then shove them towards the pond, tumbling the shell along the way, they’d get dizzier. Sherman did it, everybody did it, it was fun. Everybody had a great time celebrating Sherman’s intellectual birth, the get-together lasted until the moon had come up and left. All the turtles, including Sherman, went to sleep ever so dizzy.
Note: Thapel doesn’t really exist, but alcohol does, stick to that.
Sherman woke up still dizzy, along with blurred vision, he could tell that everybody else had left though. Finally getting a grip of his surroundings, along with his vision, he set out for the beach.
It’s day three for Sherman!
By tradition, he was to take a seashell to one of the altars for the great creator, it was at least five in the afternoon by the time he got to the beach.
Note: Turtles are really slow.
He got to the beach and looked for a seashell, he wanted to get the best seashell he could find, it’s for the great creator after all. Search, search, search. All the nice ones were either too big, or too small, or broken, or whatever else; don’t you hate that? Sherman kept on looking everywhere along the beach, and with each new wave, new seashells.
“Finally!” Sherman cried with joy, it was an hour and a half since he’d gotten to the beach, a perfect seashell had just washed up the beach.
It looked very new and a misty sort of white, like a cloud; which is why he liked it. He felt the shell was a piece of a cloud and had fallen off due to the great creator stomping on the clouds in order to go about the world. Sherman thought it would be fitting if he would offer this shell because it would be like offering a cloud to the great creator. Though a small cloud, he figured, under the care of the great creator, it could grow to be bigger that Buru-jiji itself.
He took the seashell and made his way to the closest alter, which was a bit farther than the pond where he had celebrated the day before. He would not get to the alter until night fall, and it looked like the great creator was jumping a lot all over the Pacific. Dark clouds were gathering quickly above the island and the sea around it. By the time Sherman got to the foot of the peak it had already started raining, it didn’t bother him much, he would still make it to the top of the altar.
Note: Turtles are really, really slow.
He finally got to the top, the rain was a little heavier by then. Once on the altar, Sherman saw the seashells other turtles had left when it was their birthday trinity, they were almost as nice as his, but his was newer, so his was nicest.
Note: Shells look nicer when they’re new, unless you feel older things are better because they have more character and things like that. And at that point, you’re just kidding yourself.
Most turtles don’t like staying on top of the alter, but Sherman did, it made him happy, and that was his function. For every single third day of his trinity, he would stay atop the alter for about ten minutes, looking at all of Buru-jiji, and then the ocean, and then the sky. He was looking at the sky now, at the great creator’s jumping pads, far off, where the clouds didn’t cover the sky, he could see the stars.
Turtles believe that the stars are the great creator’s food, and that’s why some stars would stop shining. A shooting star results when the great creator didn’t like his food, so he or she or it spits the food out.
Note: Turtles don’t make a wish when they see a shooting star, they just hope the next star will be delicious for the great creator.
Sherman looked at his seashell, he wanted it to be placed exactly how he found it, because that’s the way the great creator had placed it and made it. He was done, he looked at the seashell, then he looked up at the creator’s jumping pads again, it was a nice day.
A lightning bolt directly hit Sherman! His little turtle life stopped upon impact and his little turtle body was turned to ashes, along with his seashell. The rest of the shells were turned into deadly projectiles by the blast, the only things that remained in the alter were the ashes of Sherman the turtle and those of his seashell for the creator. He was turned into fertilizer.
Warning: Don’t get hit directly by a lightning bolt, you might turn into fertilizer.
All of his friends, including his brother and sister, went looking for him the next day. After having looked in all of Sherman’s favorite places, they split to go search at each of the alters. The group that went to the altar where Sherman was turned into fertilizer was the one his sister was in. His sister was named Shilu, her function was to make others happy by singing at the maximum capacity of her lungs, she had a great singing voice for a turtle.
Even though they got to the right alter, Sherman was fertilizer now, so they couldn’t tell it was him, but they knew he’d gone to that alter because all the seashells from previous birthday trinities were missing. They believed that the great creator had taken Sherman last night, so that Sherman could be happy for the great creator right beside the him or her or it, he or she or it had taken Sherman because the function he had was not only essential to Sherman, but also to the great creator.
Meaning: Sherman’s function was to be happy for the great creator, but more important than that, the great creator needed Sherman to be happy for him or her or it.
A flower grows in that alter now, it’s now the main alter for the great creator, the flower has three petals that resemble geometric shapes, the kind that hold a turtles shell together. Only one flower grows at a time, one dies, then another grows. The turtles say it’s the same flower, they say that it grows while Sherman is away with the creator, but un-grows when Sherman passes by the island alongside the creator atop the jumping pads. The flower is the energy that was Sherman’s, but it’s not dark brown like his eyes or forest green like his shell; it’s neon blue, like lightning.