Farewell, Mister Bananeopian

     The apartment I shared with Loisse was not big enough for a library – unless we crammed ourselves into one bedroom and put all our books in the other – so we turned the living room into a library. We found space on the floor and on the walls for shelves, but eventually, the books started covering the tiny coffee table, showing up under the couch, and adorning our dining table as unexpected centrepieces. We knew we had to start figuring out which books to keep, and which books should be rehomed.

     “The hardcover edition of Cookie Jar Princesses!” Loisse exclaimed as I held up a thick graphic novel with a Female Royal Shoyru and a Female Royal Kacheek peeking out from a cookie jar on the cover. “Don’t tell me you’re getting rid of that, Andler!”

     “After Clive Stables sold it to me at a bargain? No way,” I replied, putting it into the box on the coffee table, with the other books that were strictly in the “keep” category. The box next to me, which was for books that didn’t make the “keep” cut, was bare except for a few books I was certain I wouldn’t need to read again.

     The Christmas Vandagyre’s eyes widened. “I thought he was the biggest Cookie Jar Princesses fan!”

     I shrugged. “Not anymore, I guess.”

     “I feel that,” said Loisse. Her box, on the other hand, was already half-filled with books she would be handing down to her younger cousins. I saw all the volumes of The Gods Walk Among Us and was half-tempted to “borrow” my favourite instalment before they were sent away to Loisse’s cousins in Shenkuu. “I mean, remember what happened with Jorbb Kandry, Andler?”

     That gave me pause, and I slowly turned to stare at the bottommost shelf on my side of the living room. Arranged neatly were all my Mister Bananeopian graphic novels. The story was fairly simple and at times ridiculous – the titular character was a regular, somewhat funny Yellow Chia named Nixx by day, and whenever there was trouble, he would transform into Mister Bananeopian, an odd yet effective banana-based superhero. Mister Bananeopian helped everyone regardless of where they came from or what they looked like, and in one special issue he even lent the Defenders of Neopia a hand.

     But the writer, Jorbb Kandry, was…

     * * *

     I remember when I first saw the Mister Bananeopian comics at the local book shop. I was ten years old at the time, and my love for books had just begun to grow.

     The Nimmo shopkeeper even opened one comic so I could skim the pages, and ever since then, I always had to know what happened next in Nixx the Chia’s misadventures. Ever since then, I received the newest volume of Mister Bananeopian every year, whether on my birthday or on the Day of Giving.

     In the story, Nixx was clumsy, ran into trouble at work, and was made fun of for being short. Never mind that most Chias were, in fact, short. But he had a secret nobody else knew: he was also Mister Bananeopian, who donned a costume that made him look like a Banana Chia – if Banana Chias ever existed – and whose ultimate attack was shooting banana peels at his worst enemies to trip them up, literally. Yet somehow, it had more heart than the books I had to do book reports on in school. I was no superhero, yet I related to how Nixx went through life, stumbling about finding ways to do his best. Occasionally I wished I had an alter-ego to hide behind.

     It didn’t take long for me to become a fan. I had Mister Bananeopian shirts, school supplies, and action figures. When I outgrew toys, I displayed the figures over my study table. The only merchandise I gave away were the clothes, when a growth spurt rendered them too small for me.

     And when I heard that Jorbb Kandry, the author and artist of Mister Bananeopian, was doing a book signing at school, I lugged all my graphic novels, my artbooks, and my novels for him to sign. At that time, the white Lupe writer was thrilled to see how much of a fan I was.

     But that was in the past.

     * * *

     The run of Mister Bananeopian came to an end, shortly after I enrolled at Brightvale University. Mr Kandry moved on to new projects, like Song of the Noil, which was about a Meridellian knight who was called the Noiless, and Ominous Omens, a funny story about a Christmas Zafara and a Halloween Shoyru. Of course, I read Mr Kandry’s other works, finding in them the themes and quirks I enjoyed in Mister Bananeopian, but I believed that Mister Bananeopian remained his best work. The graphic novels and the merchandise continued to sell.

     For some reason, Mr Kandry wasn’t thrilled.

     Whenever he showed up at a bookstore or was invited to Brightvale University, I made it a point to get him to sign my books. During my freshman year, the white Lupe talked animatedly about the inspiration for Song of the Noil, which was a dear friend from the University of Meridell. But when I mentioned some references to Mister Bananeopian in chapter seven, a cloud seemed to settle over his face before he nodded absently and returned my copy of Song of the Noil to me with a messy, hasty signature.

     And whenever the Neopian Times or any news outlet interviewed him, I noticed that while he got into detail about his other work, his answers to questions about Mister Bananeopian were terse and hurried. Almost as if he couldn’t wait to talk about anything else.

     At first, I thought nothing of it. Perhaps he wanted to talk as passionately about his other projects? But Mr Kandry’s mood started noticeably changing in interviews whenever the topic turned to Mister Bananeopian. He went from giving brusque answers to switching the subject.

     It became harder and harder to reread Mister Bananeopian with Mr Kandry’s changing demeanour in mind. Still, when he scheduled a book signing and discussion at Brightvale University’s Literature Department as a favour for a friend within the faculty, I attended as usual, with my friend, Jack Breyan. The Faerie Draik took his love for Mister Bananeopian the extra mile and cosplayed Mister Bananeopian every now and then.

     We fell in line, me with the sequel to Song of the Noil – Protector of the Noils, and Jack with his hardbound special edition of the last several volumes of Mister Bananeopian. He was ahead of me in the queue, and I watched Mr Kandry’s forehead furrow deeply at the sight of the hardbound graphic novel.

     “Mister Bananeopian,” the Lupe said, not without disgust. “You still read this?”

     Jack nodded. “Of course I do, sir. It’s my favourite book, ever since I was little.”

     “But you’ve read Song of the Noil, too? What about Ominous Omens? I was pretty proud of that.”

     “Yes, I loved them. But Mister Bananeopian will always be special to me. When I was having a hard time in my life, I reread all of it, and it got me through that hard time.”

     Mr. Kandry didn’t look impressed as he opened the cover and picked up his pen to sign the book as though it was the most difficult thing to do in the world.

     “Well, now that you seem to be doing better, you don’t need Mister Bananeopian anymore.”

     “I still like reading it,” Jack replied. “I even cosplay. I have pictures of my – “

     Mr. Kandry shook his head as he signed the graphic novel with an extra annoyed flourish. Then he glanced at the readers waiting behind Jack and said, “Next. I hope none of you are asking me to sign your Bananeopian books. It’s all nonsense, is what it is.”

     “What?” Jack exclaimed. “Sir, it’s not! It’s a great story of how you can achieve anything you put your mind to!”

     “It’s a story about a Chia who doesn’t know when to stop playing dress up. I’ve moved on from it, and so should the rest of you,” the Lupe grated, staring the Draik in the eye. Everyone gasped, and whispers rippled through the hall. Jack nearly dropped his signed Mister Bananeopian book when it was unceremoniously shoved back to him.

     “No, it’s not!”

     Everyone gasped again, turning to look at me. Without realizing it, I shouted the words out loud. I clutched my Protector of the Noils book close to my chest as I approached Mr Kandry’s table.

     “Sir, please, Mister Bananeopian inspired an entire generation of readers,” I went on, offering him my book to sign.

     “And now that you’ve been so inspired, you should drop that book and read something else,” Mr Kandry shot back, waving dismissively with one hand while he signed my book with the other. Then he stood up, addressing everyone in the hall. “The world’s not as cut and dried as it is in Mister Bananeopian’s world. It’s time you and everyone else who read it grew up. From now on, drill this into your little brains – I won’t be signing any more Mister Bananeopian books! It’s all anyone ever wants to talk to me about! What about my other projects, huh? My art and writing have improved, yet you want to pull me back to Mister Bananeopian this, and Mister Bananeopian that! It’s vapid, it’s immature, and anyone who reads it is just as vapid and immature!”

     His words echoed throughout the conference hall. I felt like I had been doused with a Freezing Potion. I glanced at Jack, whose eyes had begun to water as he ducked his head and discreetly exited the room. Mr Kandry simply gestured for me to leave once he gave me my book back and extended a hand for the next fan.

     Half of the queue, many of them holding Mister Bananeopian books, turned away and left. I ran after Jack, and by the time I had caught up with him, he pulled himself away, scrubbed at his face, and ran toward his dormitory.

     And I stood there in shock, just watching him disappear into the building.

     * * *

     “That incident at BVU tanked Jorbb Kandry’s career, didn’t it?” Loisse said, staring at the spines of my Mister Bananeopian collection. “Ever since then, he got fewer and fewer book signing gigs. He lost his spots in the bestseller lists. But he continued doing interviews, just to insult everyone who had ever read Mister Bananeopian.”

     “I wonder what happened to him, that made him hate his work – and his fans – so much,” I mused, as I slowly began pulling the graphic novels out of my shelf. I opened Volume One and saw Jorbb Kandry’s signature on one corner, with a message that said, “Andler – Dream big, like Mister Bananeopian.”

     “Have you read his books since then?” Loisse asked.

     I shook my head. “Not really. I just…kept them here. I didn’t know what to do with them, because…” I sighed. “Honestly, I was disappointed in Jorbb Kandry. He was one of my favourite authors. But for him to turn around and treat his fans like this…to treat them like dirt…”

     I finally pulled out the last book. The hardcover edition of the last four Mister Bananeopian volumes, just like the one Jack had asked Jorbb to sign. I didn’t put the books in either box but left them in a stack on the floor.

     “But I don’t think I can give up Mister Bananeopian. It’s…even if I haven’t read them in a while, these books are already a part of my life. I met friends, like Jack – you remember Jack, right? From reading Mister Bananeopian. The story spoke to me, as someone who thought they were fated to just stumble through life. Nixx was a character who learned to be himself, whether as Nixx or as Mister Bananeopian. And even someone like him could have a happy ending.”

     “He revealed his identity to everyone and learned to love both sides of himself,” said Loisse.

     “Right. I don’t understand how Jorbb could be like this, after writing that ending. How could he hate something that’s practically a part of him?”

     “I don’t know, but what about you?” The Vandagyre blinked and gestured to the stack of Mister Bananeopian books. “You said they’re a part of your life. But you know what happened with Jorbb. You saw it with your own eyes, heard everything he said.”

     I frowned as I pondered this. Jorbb Kandry was no longer the author I admired years ago; perhaps it was time to take him completely off my shelves. Someone who treated his fanbase like that didn’t deserve his fans.

     But how could I take my favourite comic series off my shelves? Mister Bananeopian also gave me so many beautiful memories, helped me make friends, and even got me through the harder parts of college. I couldn’t tell my life story without mentioning Mister Bananeopian.

     I sighed and patted the top of the stack.

     “He is no longer the author I knew,” I answered. “I don’t know if I can pick up Mister Bananeopian any time soon, but who knows? I could look back on them, and everything I learned from them. I’ll just put them in storage until I can read them again.”

     Loisse nodded. “Good idea. Jorbb doesn’t deserve a place on our shelves. Leave that space for more respectable writers.”

     Maybe Jorbb Kandry and his work no longer deserved a place in our shelves, but Mister Bananeopian still deserved the niche it has etched into my life. I could return to the series, and relive Nixx’s misadventures all over again.

     But for now, it was farewell to Mister Bananeopian.

     The End.