Lizard Lady of Williamsburg by Elizabeth Sowden

When Mr. Flippers first came to live with Kyoko, she wasn’t exactly thrilled. His Day-glo green skin didn’t match any of her furniture—though her design concept was “eclectic retro”—and he had a face that reminded her of a grouchy old man. Plus, the first time she brought him into the building, he freaked out on the neighbor’s dog, flipping up that clown-collar of skin around his neck and making a creepy hissing noise. Every time Kyoko thought of the horrified look on the face of the neighbor’s twelve year old daughter as she hurried the dog outside, her face burned first with shame, then with rage at her ex girlfriend for insisting she take this beast she never wanted to begin with.

Kyoko always believed that if you have a pet, you should be able to pet it. That meant no fish, turtles, or birds for her, and certainly not a scaly green thing with spikes on its back. But, Kyoko discovered, you could put a lizard on a leash and walk it, and the looks one got while walking one’s iguana were almost as amusing as playing fetch with a golden retriever.

“Look mommy,” little kids said, pointing, “a dinosaur!” Pre-teen boys on skateboards stopped and asked if they could touch Mr. Flippers, and Kyoko always obliged. The boys seemed so fascinated with Mr. Flippers that she was tempted to offer to let them take him home, and she would have too if it weren’t for the impending wrath of their parents that would come down upon her if she did.

Kyoko’s reputation in the neighborhood had morphed almost over night from just another 30-something in a power suit to Kyoko, the Lizard Lady of Williamsburg. “Hey, Kyoko,” bike messengers called to her when they saw her on the street, ringing their bells. The counter help at the deli down the street greeted her with a big smile and all the free sausage samples she could swallow, and there was always a spot for her on the subway. Best of all, the saleslady at her favorite cosmetics boutique always samples of different brands of moisturize for Kyoko to try. “Just because you have a lizard doesn’t mean you have to have lizard skin,” she said as she handed Kyoko a pot of La Mer moisturizer. Kyoko left with a purseful of samples from Clinique and La Prairie.

Suddenly she was one of those colorful neighborhood fixtures that reminded people of why they wanted to live in New York City, a role Kyoko embraced to the fullest.

Well, that, and one other thing….there was a girl who had long black hair and wore tattered Converse shoes and shirts that showed off her toned arms. A bartender/performance artist. The type that made Kyoko swoon.

“Hi, Kyoko,” the girl—Nerissa—said when they crossed paths on the sidewalk. “Cool lizard.” Nerissa’s gaze would linger for just a few seconds before she flashed a million watt smile and walked on. To Kyoko, those few seconds felt like hours, as if she and Nerissa had gone on a last minute weekend trip to Miami, where they partied like gliteratti and revealed one another’s souls.

And the way she said “Cool lizard”, drawing out the “oo” and tangling the two l’s, gave Kyoko insomnia.

As she lay awake watching the catalpa tree outside make shadow puppets on her ceiling, Kyoko decided to call the one person she knew would be awake at this hour.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end answered. Kyoko could hear Disney music in the background. She struggled to remember which movie it was from. Aladdin? The Lion King?

“Hey Roxie, it’s Kyoko.Well, guess what? I think I’m in love!”

Writen by Elizabeth Sowden

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