RIP Vanetha and Skinkus the Dinkus

Growing up, we were the sort of family that were allowed to keep any pet we could catch. My mom loved all animals, and had a special place in her heart for reptiles, so we always had a tank of something or another in our kitchen or up in our rooms. My brother, Kris, was a masterful capturer or animals; he could catch anything. His biggest coup was capturing a skink, a notoriously fast little lizard, slender and black, with elegant racing stripes along its back.

Skinus the Dinkus lived a long and presumably happy life in a tank that he shared with a fence lizard Kris had caught. The fence lizard was named Vanetha, in honor of a Kris's crush, a girl who was on his swim team. Vanetha (the person) was an Indian girl, tall and solid and strong, with long black wavy hair that she was not allowed to cut, due to her Sikh upbringing. Whenever she put on her swim cap for a race, she had to coil her ponytail on top of her head, and then pull the white rubber cap over top, giving the top of her head a long, cone-like shape. Sometimes other kids would tease her, but she didn't really seem to mind, and it almost came to be more of an affectionate teasing. I'm not sure if she ever knew of my brother's feelings, and as far as I know, she never returned them. In any case, her parents were strict, and certainly wouldn't have encouraged even a friendship between the two children. Vanetha the lizard far outlived the duration of the crush, and my brother had soon moved on to Katie Best who, although less exotic, was decidly more available for his attentions.

Vanetha (the lizard) and Skinkus the Dinkus lived in harmony for several years, dining on mealworms together, and sharing a favorite stick. Their friendship soon blossomed into a surprise romance, as Vanetha eventually laid one small pearly-white egg in the corner of the tank. Although we eagerly awaited a new member of the family, the egg never hatched and Vanetha and Skinkus the Dinkus continued on as if nothing had happened. Although it is difficult to tell with lizards, the two appeared devoted to one another, and we imagined the great comfort that Skinkus the Dinkus provided during what was understandably a difficult time for Vanetha. This could certainly be the only explanation for how the two were able to move on with their lives so quickly after this loss.

The lizards lived together like this for a number of years, and eventually died within a few weeks of each other, at a time when my brother was particularly interested in Ancient Egypt. Skinkus the Dinkus was wrapped in several layers of tissue and placed with great ceremony in an empty cardboard Kleenex Boutiques box. Vanetha died later, and therefore reaped the benefit of my brother's increased knowledge. She was placed in a black plastic coffin-shaped watch box, her body gently laid atop a layer of cotton that had been soaked in rubbing alcohol. A second layer of alcohol-soaked cotton was put on top of her corpse, and the lid to the box was put on tightly, to keep out any air.

Kris had found a perfect burial tomb for the two companions. He had noticed a small metal door on the outside of the chimney, where ashes can be swept out from the fireplace. The iron door opened into a small chamber, perhaps no larger than one cubic foot. My brother had carefully swept out the ashes when he had placed Skinkus the Dinkus's coffin, and when Vanetha's body had been properly prepared, he swept the chamber again, and gently placed the two side by side, closing the door with a small scraping sound as the metal latch moved against the brick of the chimney.

Although I know this not to be true, I would like to think that the great love affair between Vanetha and Skinkus the Dinkus had given my brother comfort. Here, these two species of lizard, so different in appearance and background, had somehow managed to find love. Their lizard love might have taboo out in the wild, but here in the tank in my brother's bedroom, there had been a place where their forbidden love could flourish, like the place that Tony and Maria had longed for. A place for them. It was like the place that Wesley Snipes and Annabella Scioria could never find in Jungle Fever. Or maybe what the open range was like for those gay cowboys in Brokeback Mountain. A lizard place, where they could express their passion for one another without fear of judgement or condemnation. A place where even after death, their love could be honored, where they could remain eternally side by side, there among the sifting ashes.