[ WP ] In a world of shapeshifters , how do we know who is who ?

Al sympathized with the shapeshifter as a transient himself. He wanted to protect the species, and encouraged activism to save the changer in the face of a world machine that could not operate with a variable of uncertainty. His efforts to organize a grass-seed movement to cultivate understanding of the changer was nipped at the bud, as he described it, as the local authorities accused him falsely of creating dissent. After the second bust at a fast food restaurant, they tuned him up good. They stood him up after beating on his mid-section for a little bit, and a squirrelly looking fellow with gelled black hair smacked him in the face to get his attention. “ The next time we catch you bothering good folks, we ’ re gon na say that we killed you with probable cause. Nobody will miss some crackhead bum. ” 
 
 To avoid further conflict, Al took a new approach. Instead of interacting with humans, he would live amongst the shapeshifter. Try to be the Jane Gooddall of shapeshifters. That worked out bad. He would watch other homeless people and park animals for abnormalities, and typically would only find sick men and dying pigeons. His resolve did not waver, and he knew that he would not find a group of changers that would take him in, but if he could fine one, anyone, he could begin a relationship with it. 
 
 When the day came that he did find a changer, he scooped it up in his arms and ran to find privacy. Privacy was a luxury that other vagrants fought for tooth and nail and claw ends of hammers. He had his own little spot though; an alleyway behind a Chinese food restaurant. At first the restaurateurs were adamant against his vacancy, but they worked out an agreement that he would chase away other bums and clean the alley and sometimes the kitchen. Jingwen, the wife of the owner, even grew fondly of their alleyway hobo and would feed him and occasionally allow him upstairs to their apartment to clean up. The clothes he is currently wearing everyday was handmedowns from their eldest son. He had a tent set up near the dumpster, a nice two-person that worked out okay during the winters, and it smelled of cooking grease which was reasonably appetizing when you ’ re always working on a hungry stomach. 
 
 He brought back his shapeshifter, in the form of a kitten, and he stroked its chin and it purred at him. “ It ’ s okay little guy, ” Al said to his new friend, “ you don ’ t have to pretend with me. I understand you. ” The kitten, a calico, stared up at him and stood up on wobbly kitten legs. He knew that he ’ d have to gain its trust first. Humans have been cruel to the shapeshifter upon its discovery. He saw a video feed at a bar where they tore the poor souls to pieces in laboratories of wide margins of expertise and professionalism. One experiment drew and quartered several of the creatures to test their elasticity. 
 
 “ Well, if you don ’ t want to be a cat anymore, you can turn into something else. I ’ m not particularly fond of cats. ” He had a cat growing up, and it was a nasty bastard that pissed and shit wherever it wanted. When he was newly homeless, he took particular enjoyment out of eating cat. Now after being homeless for several years, he grew self-conscious of his eating habits. Now he only ate out of cans and handouts. 
 
 He left the kitten in a box to go find food for himself and his friend. When he came back and opened the box, he found a puppy. He laughed and picked up the dog and it started to lick his face. The changer looked exactly like his dog Rocco, a miniature pinscher. “ I heard that the shapeshifters were empaths! You knew that I loved my mini pincher when I was a boy. I ’ ll call you Rocco. I bet Rocco wouldn ’ t mind sharing a name. ” He split a can of soup between him and the puppy who gobbled up the split pea and ham Campbells. He asked the puppy a hundred questions to no reply. “ It ’ s okay. You ’ ll grow to like me. I already love you so much. Imagine us, two best friends between species! ” 
 
 After a little while, Al started to read. He stole magazines out of the garbage and from newsstands when the opportunity arised. He had a copy of US Today, New Yorker, and Life. He started to read the magazines for news of the plight of the shapeshifter. The media has repressed most information on the creatures, but sometimes information slipped through. How could you explain the irregularities of certain celebrities? Shapeshifters. Like a cowbird, the shapeshifter would replace people and take up their place in society. The shapeshifter could look just like someone, but humans were always a clever species and would notice the way a shapeshifter would act differently as it had to assume certain behaviors. Al had a theory that the shapeshifter would act on the subconscious of celebrities, and no amount of PR could hide the celebrities id after it replaced its ego. All of the hate and absurd thoughts of the human would boil to the surface and become news for a little while before the celebrity was never heard from again. It made absolute sense. 
 
 “ I want to understand you so much. Please, answer one question for me; is it true that when a shapeshifter dies, it becomes an inanimate object? I believe it does. I believe to remain concealed, they become rocks and refuse. I think that ’ s smart, Rocco. Stay hidden even after passing. ” He tried to share some fruit with the dog but it refused it. “ That was a test. Dog ’ s don ’ t eat nectarine. ” 
 
 He finished reading his US Today after staring a picture of Salma Hayek longingly. He noticed it was starting to snow, so he brought Rocco and himself under a raggy blanket. “ We ’ ll be warm tonight, and the heat from the kitchen keeps the tent warm during the snow, ” Al reassured the dog. He pet Rocco, who nuzzled into his arm, until both of them fell asleep. 
 
 At some point during the night, Al was awoken with a shake. He turned on the assailant vehemently, both hands grabbing at shoulders and pushing away. Salma Hayek fell back, and started to laugh. “ Is that how you treat a lady? ” she asked and straightened out her yellow sundress. Al stared at her, and then back at Rocco ’ s box. It was empty. 
 
 “ Oh, Rocco, no. We can not. ” 
 
 “ I saw how you looked at the picture. I thought that you were so kind to me, I could be kind to you. ” 
 
 “ It isn ’ t right. ” 
 
 “ Why not? Here, feel me. I am now flesh and blood and love. ” She pulled his hand to her breast but he pulled back, repulsed. “ No, I want to be friends with you. I would not take advantage of your amazing ability to satisfy my savage impulses. Please, Rocco, change back. ” 
 
 Salma smiled sadly at Al. “ There is no changing back. The life of a shapeshifter is a perpetual state of change. Rocco ’ s gone. I could be something else for you in the morning. What would you like me to be? ” 
 
 Al thought for a moment. “ I really liked Rocco. Could you be a different mini pincher? You could still be Rocco. A different Rocco though. ” Salma nodded. “ Okay. I ’ ll be your Rocco in the morning. Now go to sleep. Big day tomorrow. ” So Al slept. 
 
 When Jingwen did not hear from Al all day, who always pestered her for breakfast, she looked for him, and found him in his tent. She found her husband who called the police. He was curled up with an empty box in his arms. Amongst his possessions was his ID, some canned food, the tent, and some magazines; US Today, Life, the New Yorker, and People. Jingwen cried for Al, or who she thought was Al, since his ID identified him as Tom. The name of a dead man did not matter much to Jingwen though. She was sad that he had to die alone. 

