More Weird Camping Tales

[Atehequa]

Part 13 - Of Gardens and Rabbit Traps




For close to an hour we had been at an overly easy pace with a fair amount of stopping and looking. Flip and R.W. often trailed behind. A few times we lost sight of them and had to wait. Upon passing the turn off to that small trail that led down beside Little Hawksbill Creek Flip's beady eyes began to dart about. His breathing got louder. I questioned his condition - "You alright ?"
He turned his odd shaped head and gazed down the small path.
"Oh" I said, then slapped his back and added - "Come on Flip, let's get moving"
Reluctantly he moved on with the rest of us up the Appalachian Trail and until we rounded a trail bend he shot a few looks back with a longing in his dark eyes. Going around with that bend we began to ascend a sloping ridge. Reaching near the top we came upon a small swift moving stream that cascaded down from the mountain. It was decided we would climb up this run, catch us a good one and kick-back for awhile.
And climb we did from rock to rock until coming upon a suitable flat surface to lounge. It was a wide flat chunk of granite on which we perched some hundred and fifty feet above the trail. One side of us was thick with leafy branches, where the other allowed us a view back down. The small stream cascaded down beside our large flat resting rock. Following a good gulp from my canteen, I fired-up one of the bones then passed it on. Going around and down to a small brown roach, we all got a few decent hits. Burnt down to almost naught, I set the roach free upon the swift down flowing waters. We all watched it go over a small fall. Patti, eyes stoned half-closed gave it a farewell - "Bye" She said with a slow wave.

I turned my attention to our surroundings thinking this is the kind of place one could sit, marveling the wonders of Nature for hours. Then something caught my eye.
It was a good-sized crayfish picking at a dead salamander in the clear, still pool behind a rock. With it's pinchers the crustacean tore away chunks of white soggy decomposing flesh from the amphibian. A shadowy reflection cast over this small pool resulted in the Crayfish dropping it's feast then swiftly retreating in a backwards motion under a rock.
"What are you looking at ?" It was Claudia squatting down beside me as the crayfish to zip off in a backwards swim
"Oh somebody having lunch"
"Who ?"
I pointed to what was left of the 'spring lizard"
"What was it ?"
"A salamander"
"No, I meant what was eating it ?" Before I could answer, Patti, who was a good ways up-there, asked R.W. - "So are you going to get up with 'Muffin' at her RV later ?"
"Her name is Yvonne" R.W. reminded Patti.
Patti giggled - "Oh yes, Yvonne. How could I've forgotten ?"
"Thinking about it " replied R.W. answering her teasing question.
Then Claudia got in on it - "Yvonne is it, so that's the girl you met at the Lodge ? " Continuing Claudia said - "Nothing good shall come of that"
"Of what ?" R.W. asked.
She repeated, this time liken to a sooth sayer's warning - "Nothing good for you shall come of that "
"Of what ?" R.W. demanded, now standing and a bit bothered.
Head tilted up with eyes closed Claudia looked as she was searching for a name, then turned to R.W. With blazing eyes responded - " While you guys stopped off at the restroom on our way out Patti told me about the young lady you met. Hmmm, now what was her name ?"
"Muffin !" Patti laughed.
"Oh yes Yvonne" Claudia said - "Nothing good will come of putting her little group together with your people"
"Well she was hitting on me" R.W. stated - "I planned to go up to see her by myself"
Making a sad face I asked - "You mean we can't come too ?"
"Invite them to our camp for some fun" Patti suggested with a rare slightly evil smile.
"Hell no, you think I want somebody like her around,,," R.W. cut himself short, no doubt not wanting to get pushed in the stream for a lame insult.
"It may be already too late for that" Claudia warned.
"Too late for what ?" Patti inquired
"Well that's what's camping is all about " I interjected.
Claudia gave me a disturbed look - "Meaning ?"
"Meaning it's all about the experiences, be they good, or not so good"
Patti then added - "And meeting new and exciting people"
"Don't forget strange" Flip told her, his beady eyes still darting about.

And strange it had been and was more to be.

Not wanting to have parts of my vacationing future predicted, I stooped down then cupped both hands into the cold mountain water to wash my face. Standing I asked - "Ready to go ?"
Soon we were carefully making our way down this swift moving run and back on the trail. Flip and R.W. began to lag behind. Having enough of playing catch-up, Claudia, Patti and I reached the trail then continued to follow it around yet another twisting bend. After a couple of hundred yards I called a halt and took a gander at the trail behind me.
"Where are they at ?" Claudia asked in a tone clear to me she was eager to go on. It was then an ugly realization flashed in my skull. "I have a pretty good idea" were my next words before turning around and quick stepping it back the way we came.

Upon reaching where the stream flowed down I was about to call their names, but thought better of it. Instead I moved down a little, checking a patch of loose sandy dirt on the trail. Seeing their long deep tracks that had plowed through the dirt told me they were
shit-n-getting it at this point. 'Bet they dashed off after we went around the bend' was my grim thought. Claudia and Patti had caught up with me as I pondered over their tracks.
"Well ?" Claudia inquired
"They're heading back south and moving fast" I informed them, pointing at the tracks.
Claudia seeming a little miffed at the situation looked at me and said - " You guys are just too weird. Is this another one of your traditional antics ?"
"We have to trail them ! Got to catch up with them !" I shouted.
"Why ?" Claudia demanded.
"Got to get up with them and quick, before they get themselves in a pickle"
"How so ?"
Not wanting to spill the beans, but seeing no way to avoid giving an explanation, I offered them a quick account of Flip's and my discovery of the secret garden last Saturday.
"I thought that stuff tasted fresh" Claudia commented.
Patti chuckled and asked - "So you think they're going after some more, Jim ?"
"I don't think, I know they are"
"So why all this ?" Patti wanted to know.
"There has to be a few good pounds of that shit growing down near the Little Hawksbill" Swearing I went on - "Son of a bitch, I told that greedy bastard we had clipped enough!" Claudia wanted to know what we were going to do.
"Catch up with their sorry asses and stop them, if it ain't too late" I replied, adding - "So lets get moving "
Claudia, Patti and I set off at a swift pace, but after about a hundred yards Claudia slowed it down, asking herself aloud - "Why am I running for ?" Patti and I raced forward, but turning my head long enough to remind Claudia of the path we were making for so as she would know where to find us.

In good time Patti and I made it back to Little Hawksbill Creek, caught our breath, then proceeded down the little winding footpath. As we closed distance Patti asked if I was going to hurt anybody. She said - "I don't like seeing violence"
"Hurt some feelings perhaps, though I should crack both their skulls" I whispered, then advised Patti to keep it quiet from here on out.
Continuing down this ever twisting path I looked out and up at the rock outcropping we had smoked that crappy brown Whoodee at. Carefully we picked our way down silently as possible. Patti proved to be quite surefooted and agile as we slunk down inclines or around steep-sided bends. There was something in the air as my hackles rose. After a bit more stealthy down-hill trekking the ground leveled out somewhat, looking all too familiar. Throwing up my hand I called a halt as just up ahead was the rise where a treasure in high-grade reefer stood tall and growing. I motioned to advance slowly. Rounding a large clump of wild azalea I signaled another halt. This time we both heard a little rustling, but could not be sure what was causing it.

We stood still, like deer before the dash, but my eyes scanned our surroundings, and not long did I have to glance about before beholding a sight. They were at the top edge of the rise, crouched low against a large thick sticker bramble. Flip appeared to be peering ahead through the tangle while R.W. was looking dead at me with an index finger up to his lips. 'Don't like the looks of this' I thought noticing Flip's odd white shirt that could be seen for miles and maybe through a this thick bramble as well.

The minutes dragged on as we all held our positions, not knowing quite what was going on. Soon the birds were singing again and I could even hear a bluejay in the distance fussing at something. Suddenly the birds fell silent and I could feel my body tensing up for the dash, but did not bolt because of another sound coming down the path. At first it was faint but flowing but as it grew louder I could tell it was some one singing. I recall saying something under my breath like - "Oh shit" and chanced being spotted by turning to look up the path. Now all heads turned in that direction, all eyes wide in terrible wonder as now the singing got louder and we could make out the lyrics.
Heart pounding and poised for full flight, my jaw dropped. I could feel my legs shake pretty much in the same manner as they did when I had a big fish fighting at the end of a line. The melody flowed around me -

“A song to him
without him
I just want to die.

Make up some words
that are all in rhyme
words that will live
til the end of time,,,,”

The song trailed off to a hum.

From atop the rise came a great racket of something crashing forward through the foliage not far behind Flip and R.W who zipped down from their bramble hideout and halted near me.
"Lets make tracks boys" I whispered, but just as we started to flee Claudia came into view and was approaching our position still humming as if nothing was out of order. She stopped beside the azaleas just as two hulking figures charged down the rise. At first they were a blur of movement in the brush, but once they came into the clear, I got a good look at them.

'Oh shit !' I thought - 'this is it'

It was the same two law enforcement officials Claudia, Flip and I had met at the base of Spitler Hill. In no time the larger one was on us while the smaller one kept a bit of distance. Not having their weapons drawn was a good sign I supposed. Smiling I offered a greeting - "Howdy" to which they did not return in kind.
"Well there you are !" Claudia happily shouted - "You'll get yourselves lost wandering off like that"
Looking at the two officers she said - "Well hello again gentlemen, thanks for finding these lost tenderfoots" Claudia then asked us - "So you see anything flying around ?" Catching her drift ahead of the rest of us Flip answered - "No, but thought we heard some wild turkey pecking and scratching up there in the brush, but it was only these guys" Hearing that, the larger of the pair grimaced while the smaller one ambled up a bit closer and said with a clucking chuckle - "Look here what we have, the birdwatchers"
We all displayed idiotic grins and attempted to give greetings which were cut short by the large one’s authoritative barking - "Thought we already told a few of you to stay on the main trails !"
Taking a chance I replied - "We thought this was a main trail"
"No sir, this is off limits too" The smaller one stated - "Give you a hint, the main trails are blazed with signs or color markings. Didn't you people pick up any info regarding the trails ?"
Pointing at Flip I blurted out - "He was suppose to, but got all caught up buying snacks instead"
Continuing to play dumb I asked - "Hey did you guys find some bear traps up there or something ?"
The large one gritted on me and growled - "None of your business !"
Heeling his huge partner's brashness with a pat on his back the smaller one's face twisted into a sinister smile as he answered my lame question - "Yeah , we got some trapping going on up there" He went on - "In fact, for your own personal safety and well being I advise y'all to get back up there to the main trail before somebody ends up with their foot in a trap"
Catching his meaning and counting our blessings all of us gave head nods for goodbyes, except for Claudia who thanked them again for finding her companions and bid them - "Goodbye gentlemen, keep up the good work" That said we departed back up the path.

Moving swiftly up the twisting path and around a few bends we called a halt to make sure no one was following. Secure in knowing they were not trailing us and forgetting for the moment she could very well be a critter, I looked down at Claudia's binoculars resting upon that superb bosom like a badge of a beloved hobby. Raising my eyes I returned Claudia’s smile and engulfed her in a sudden hug.
Still smiling she asked - "What's all this ?"
"Thanks for saving our hides" then I complemented her for that quick bit of thinking and just for showing up when she did.
" Nothing out of the ordinary" She stated - "You guys wandered off and got lost and with the help of those kind government employees you all were found"
I had to give credit where credit is due, it was Claudia who more or less pulled us out of that jam, which had me thinking about what got us jammed in the first place -

"You dumb-fucks ! We could of all went down !"

Claudia quelled my angry words by saying - "Nobody went down. It wasn't meant to be" Then she continued on as if nothing happened at all, commenting about scenery, plant and insect species. Upon reaching the Appalachian Trail we called another halt.
"It's probably a good thing we're all leaving Big Meadows tomorrow" Claudia said with a strange look in her eyes.
Needless to say the whole experience was a complete buzz-kill. Not only did the actions of some put the whole encampment at risk, it was yet another fray in the fabric of a trusting friendship. Had Flip and R.W. not heard slight stirrings from the secret garden, things would of no doubt gone in a different direction, especially if they were caught while picking and packing.
R.W. recounted - "We heard them no sooner than Flip and I got near the top. We hid behind the stickers"
"Oh I saw you up there as still as baby cottontails" I reminded him.

Still somewhat pissed, I turned to Flip and asked - "Just had to go back for more, didn't you ?"
Eyes darting about before sinking down on the dirt Flip gave what explanation he could manage - "Wasn't gonna get it all, maybe just a few more ounces worth"
"Fuck man !" I barked, then went on to remind him of his existing fortune - "You already got a big-ass bag-full back at camp !"

Claudia was right, it would be a good idea to leave this area tomorrow as I had a notion those two government employees suspected something but decided not to act upon it. Perhaps they knew someone had been in the secret garden recently snipping off a few good fat buds, but looked at us as little fish to be thrown back into the river of life. Small fry with big mouths getting on their hooks while they waited to snag the trophy catch of the day.

One thing we knew to be certain The secret garden was nigh harvest, but this seemed to be a case of the law being on to secret gardeners who were probably already on to the law and had abandoned that particular patch. The rest of our time here we would have to keep a low profile.

Unhindered, we headed back to Big Meadows..

[Atehequa]

14 - The Bear Up There

Hopeless Immortals ! How they scream and shiver
while devils push them into the pit wide yawning
hideous and gloomy, to receive them headlong.

- Isaac Watts

Upon entering camp and before I had a chance to speak R.W. rushed in blabbing away about what occurred down by the Little Hawksbill Creek. Denny, Whitey, Charlie were all ears and The Bear leaned forward, with a goofy smile to hear of our misadventure. Not wanting anyone else present either bold, stupid or drunk enough to attempt another raid I shushed R.W. up before he disclosed the secret garden's location.
"Where is it ? " Charlie asked, then quickly composed a plan - "We could sneak in and grab them tonight or early in the morning"
By the look in Whitey's eyes, he was thinking about it and Denny showed a spark of interest as well -
"Charlie and Whitey can go in for the grab, while I stand look out"
Somewhat intoxicated, but nobody's fool when it came to raiding, Whitey promptly informed Denny - "If I go in, it's all mine"
Flip still a bit moved and a little shaken by his experience down by the Little Hawksbill lashed out with some sharp edged sound reason - "Try it ! We'll pack it all up and leave your sorry ass at the mercy of those federal law dogs !"
The Bear then boomed - "I'll second that Flip, by breaking the skull of any man who tries, I'm not going to jail for your stupidity !" He then went on to say - "There some hot sausages I grilled up while y'all were running around in the woods. They're underneath that foil and should still be warm"
Patti giggled and said - "Hot sausages that are still warm"
We all howled with laughter
"Hot sausage that are still warm !" Bear repeated mirthfully, his eyes half-closed and bloodshot and holding his belly he laughed.

Something was noticeably different about Bear. Flip was looking at him as well. Quelling Bear's laughter with a tap on his head, I waved a finger in his face and inquired - "Alright you big oaf, what the hell have you gotten into while we were gone ?"
The Bear stammered as he attempted to jumpstart a reply off of Charlie's monkey-like cackling - "Hey man, I got bored while you guys were gone, so we went into Flip's tent and had us one" With a tilted head he gave me a challenging smirk. It was apparent The Great Bear was stoned out of his gourd.
I held back my laughter and asked - "So you had one, got fucked up and grilled-up some hot sausages ?"
Patti mirthfully repeated - "Hot sausages that are still warm !"
The Bear burst out in a guffaw, then fell silent and directed a question to me - "Yeah, I got fucked up and grilled-up those sausages" He then demanded - "What about it, who the fuck are you, a commonwealth attorney ?"
"Hey man" I replied - "Help yourself, knock yourself out, smoke yourself silly, but you better get some pickle juice and water through that plumbing of yours before going back to the woes of the real world"
Not wanting to be pulled down, he waved my doom and gloom away from his lofty place.

The Great Bear was cooked.

I could hardly suppress a chuckle when recalling the way he smiled while threatening to fracture skulls earlier. It was good to see Bear 'up there' once again. Perhaps this was the time to touch upon how we should keep a low profile, but decided discuss it later after Bear told me to get some lunch. Lifting a makeshift foil cover off the paper plate full of processed meat I complemented Bear on his grilling prowess - "Oh look, the grill marks are perfect, just like on the commercials"

Bear was overly particular about his outdoor cooking to the point of being anal at times. Oh how he could get a black seared cross pattern on a beef rib eye or ham steak and would threaten the same of anyone's face who got too close to his grill. I placed the warm-hot sausage on a bun, applied mustard and then bit into this treat.
"Holy fucking shit !" I gasped. It was hot and I'm not talking warmth. It slipped from my fingers and hit the table with a dull thud. I was in desperate need of liquid, something to wash this atomic snack down. I swiftly made for the cooler. Downing an ale in a single guzzle I heard Bear slur - "Warm sausages that are hot !" He went on to inform me - "They're from South Carolina, got em from a guy at work, his uncle makes em extra hot"
"With my vocal cords still in a bit of a twist, I managed to state - "You could leave these out overnight and they'd still be hot the next morning"
"Not only that, they burn ya twice" Bear said with a devilish grin.
Getting another ale my reply was - "Something else to look forward to, glad we got some ice"

Finding I could tolerate the atomic sausage with cold ale, my lunch went down
like Greek fire .
Bear kindly offered - "Get yourself another one Jim"
"Oh, I'm fine " I assured him, then belched forth a flame.
Sweat pouring out of his head Charlie bragged -"I ate two of them !"
Although caustic, this meal was still a thoughtful gesture on Bear's part.
Claudia passed on the sausage, as did Whitey. The Dibbles having cast iron stomachs, fell upon the red-hots. Denny who had not long awoke was pouring hot sauce on his.
"Get you one Patti" Bear offered, but she said -
"Hell no, I'm not biting into the devil's weenie. Eat those things and poop molten lava in the morning, if not sooner if you want, but I ain't !"
Patti and Whitey started grilling some regular hotdogs instead.
I looked down and saw the flies or ants would not even go near a chunk of atomic sausage that had fell to the ground.

Then from the loop road we heard the sound of tires turning gravel.

All eyes were trained on the loop road as we watched, waited, expecting anything. Following the incident down at Little Hawksbill, some of us were a little on edge.
As it drew more near, I breathed a sigh of relief having recognized the engine’s sound. It was Mildred and Guy and they were now slowing to a halt. Claudia waved them in. Pulling off slowly, Guy backed the station wagon in front of his pop-up and a short while later they walked into camp. Other than the damage caused that atomic sausage lunch and those two ales my head was clear enough to take notice of Guy's strange shambling gate. His eyes seemed to be looking somewhere over our heads as he gazed above and beyond. I could not focus on Mildred, she moved in a hazy blur. Even after rubbing my eyes, her image was still blurry. Blinking heavily Flip was cleaning his glasses with a paper towel. The Bear had a hand shading his eyes as if attempting to cut glare. All of the others except Charlie, blinked or rubbed their eyes as they looked at Mildred. No doubt by this point every thing was blurry for my cousin as he offered Mildred and Guy a hot sausage. Mildred declined while Guy looked out into the woods.

Speaking without all that much emotion, Mildred recounted her and Guy's visit to Sperryville. The whole time her eyes were locked on to Claudia's .
With a quick nod of his shaggy head, Bear signaled me to look at Guy, whose tongue was hanging out as he stared at tree bark. Not taking her eyes off Mildred, Claudia said - “Tomorrow we’ll all be in the Fort Valley having a great time”
"Sounds great" Mildred replied, still looking directly into Claudia’s amber eyes.
Still watching Guy who was now scratching and sniffing tree bark, Bear burst out in hysterical laughter.
With her lazy eye twitching Mildred announced - "Sorry we can't hang around, but we have some more sight-seeing to do"
Breaking eye contact with Claudia, Mildred strolled over to Guy, grabbed his hand, led him off towards their camp. A half of minute later the station wagon pulled out again.
Flip, R.W. and Whitey's faces went slack into what I would describe as the 'What the Fuck ?" look of amazement. Denny on the other hand was fixing up a hotdog while Charlie guzzled booze and blathered nonsense. Patti as always was her cheerful self. In his elated state Bear with a big goofy smile waved at Mildred and Guy as they drove passed. He then tilted his shaggy head back and gazed up at the leafy green canopy. Mumbling something under his breath he turned his attention to Claudia.

Taking more notice of my huge friend, I saw he was going through some weird changes. With teeth now bared in a savage smile and heavy brows knotted over his stormy grey eyes I knew something was getting ready to go down.
All I could do was sit there somewhat freaked out, sipping my ale thinking - 'Four or five days from now they'll find us at some campground in our tents, sucked dry into crispy nothingness, much like melba toast'

The Bear still had that psychotic leering smile on his face as things were going on behind those grey eyes. Suddenly without a word stood up and leaned in over the table while holding Claudia’s amber eyes in a rather savage gaze.
Seconds dragged before he spoke in a sharp clear voice - "I think we can have a lot of fun down at Fort Valley, don't you ?"
This was followed by a short rumbling growl. Claudia involuntarily drew back and recoiled as Bear leaned in a little further adding with a beast-like grin - "I can't wait, how about you ?" He had the savage visage of something that had stop fleeing and turned to bite. He seemed more scary than angry. Claudia was either startled at Bear's behavior. There were times the Whoodee brought out a wild 'devil may care' side of him. He was unpredictable at those times. Perhaps it was best Bear didn't mess with Whoodee hardly anymore, but now under the influence he was quite a sight.
Flip also knowing anything could happen now, shot me a nervous glance.
Nodding his shaggy head as if some understanding was made clear, Bear re-seated himself. He pointed over at Claudia and calmly requested - "Could you get me something to drink ?" Almost as if she was obliging some tribal hetman's command, Claudia rose from the bench and asked - "What would you like ?"
"Well if old Jim don't mind, I'd like to have one of his ales"
Denny, Flip, R.W. Whitey and even Charlie looked on in amazement as Claudia walked over to my cooler, plucked out an ale, opened the bottle and poured it into his horn. With a slight bow she handed Bear his refreshment and re-seated herself. Claudia sat looking at the table with a weird little smile upon her face. Perhaps Bear made an impression on Claudia or maybe even turned her on, but not in a Tom Jones or Michael Bolton sort of way.

Feeling it was high time for me to experience a change in altitude, I announced - "I'm going in the tent. Last one in zip up the flap"

Time for me to take a hawk’s eye view of our grand heathen vacation encampment. Upon entering the tent I heard Bear's folding camp chair creak over the sound of footfalls.
Just as I seated myself near the stash Patti, Charlie, Denny, Flip and Whitey poured in behind me. The others stayed outside. Whitey started to zip the flap, but ceased when we all heard a booming voice -
"Hold on for one more !" Bear entered slowly and carefully seated himself on Flip's bedding. We formed a close circle of seven and shared the leftover bone from our earlier ill-fated hike. Bear in his re-visited state of Whoodee heaven tended to be somewhat of a bogart. Between him and Charlie hogging the bone I had to roll two more. One for now, the other for later. The second one proved to be a bit too much for Bear as he burst out into a fit of red faced laughter after looking at Charlie.
"Make him stop!" The Bear managed to get out between laughter and breaths that now had become a tittering wheeze. Charlie kept looking at him with a comical bug-eyed, puckered mouth, shaky Don Knotts-like face.
The Bear's face was now almost purple prompting me to suggest - "Calm down, catch your breath man, you're not getting enough air to your noodle"
"That's it,,,, for me" He laughed.
"I'll say" Flip returned with a wink, then helped the big man up and out of the tent. Much too high for the tent ceiling, we exited as well.

"I got your hotdogs off the grill, but I'm sorry to say they're burned almost black" R.W. informed Patti.
Patti smiled and said - "Thank ya baby, that's the way I like em" She then proceeded to fix them up with some relish and mustard.
"You gonna eat all three of them" Flip asked then said - "They look kind of good"
"You can have one" Patti offered.
They scarfed down their blackened dogs swiftly, then ripped open a bag of potato chips. Charlie and Bear had got into the large box of toothpicks and were now attempting to build tiny cabin-like structures upon our picnic table as Claudia watched their work with keen interest.
Whitey popped open a beer, quaffed on it for awhile until Charlie had his little cabin almost finished, then leaned over, faked a sneeze causing toothpicks to scatter. Whitey had destroyed Charlie's tiny engineering marvel. Only the Bear's great shielding paws saved his cabin from a similar fate. Hurling a handful of toothpicks at Whitey, Charlie bawled - "Mutha-fukka, ! You did that on purpose!"
"Did you have sneeze damage coverage on your policy ?" Whitey asked laughing and shaking toothpicks out of his hair. Bringing out a knife, Bear cut out a small square from a paper plate then placed it atop his toothpick cabin for it’s roof. This final phase of construction caused the whole thing to crumble. He stared hard at the tiny ruins for a couple of minutes then asked Claudia to get him another ale.

"You fuckers owe me a box of toothpicks" Flip hissed while looking at the mess.

Toothpick cabins soon forgotten, Bear, Charlie and Whitey engaged themselves in substance induced gibberish.
"Mind if I get an ale ?" Claudia asked, adding - "Think I could use one right about now"
Reaching into the cooler I pulled one out, opened and handed it to her. She thanked me with a seductive smile that made my heart pound.

It was then we heard people approaching on foot..

[Atehequa]

15 - Mildred and Guy ?



The sound of their noisy footfalls reached us before they came into view. Flip and I stood at ready for whatever was about to come.

Walking into our encampment without the courtesy of a call in they strolled up towards the table. The Birdman and I had moved close to either side of their party while Denny half-circled behind them. The Great Bear rose before them like a mountain of flesh completing the surround.

There were four of them, three young women and a teenage male, all looking somewhat frightened and no doubt now wondering if it was indeed a wise decision entering this encampment uninvited and unannounced. I quickly recognized Yvonne, but not before R.W. who was now on his feet greeting the young lady and telling us to -
"Ease-up fellows, it's Yvonne and her friends come to visit"
Yvonne turned around only to see Denny checking her out with a broad smile upon his face, remaining silent awaiting any formalities. One of them, a short plump girl with dark big hair, spoke out - "Like maybe this is a bad time ?"
Her perfume made my eyes water. Although her face was plastered with makeup she had an olive complexion. Perhaps a Mediterranean of some type. Taking notice of Bear's bloodshot grey eyes, she closed her mouth and looked down. The other girl an east Asian had sense enough to offer us a quick bow, then gave apology for rudely barging in. That was followed by greetings and introductions -
"Hi I'm Holly" She turned to the big-haired girl and said - "This is Ruthie, and that's her brother Dave " Holly pointed at the chubby kid with spiked hair. She then added - "And you've already met Yvonne"
"Not me" Denny said, stepping around in front of his brother to face the comely young lady. "Hey Yvonne, I'm Denny"
At this first meeting Yvonne was either terrified or quite taken with Denny as her eyes were blinking and her lips parted into an O. Denny did not care either way as his gaze was fixed upon her shapely young form.

Before this starry-eyed introduction progressed any further R.W. cut in between the two - "Well hey, Yvonne" he embraced the young lady, but Yvonne's arms hung limp at her sides. Maybe all of this was too much for the young woman to get a handle on. Denny moved beside R.W. and said - "You’re not even going to introduce your own brother to this beautiful young lady ?"
Yvonne managed several words - "Wow! you didn't tell me you have a brother"
As the Dibbles went on to spread tail feathers and perform their courtship strutting, Charlie offered them a drink which Ruthie and Dave swiftly accepted all before more sober minded folk could step in a stop such a foolish act. Charlie poured two good measures of Vodka into plastic cups and slipped them to the under-aged young adults. The one called Dave sucked his vodka down then held out the plastic cup for another.
It was Patti who first took action by getting up and strolling over to them then asked - "How old are you two ?"
Although neither looked over 19, both replied at the same time - "21"
Patti wanted to know - "So you're twins ?"
Ruthie looked at Dave then issued a "Yuck !" adding - "No we're not twins"
"Then how is it you're both 21 ? " Patti inquired taking the drink from Ruthie's hand. Holly turned to Ruthie and Dave and assured them - "Hey it's alright, we don't want to get these people into trouble"
The one called Dave rolled his eyes and dropped the empty red plastic cup on our table. Cleary he was upset about not getting that second shot.

Having teenagers at home and enjoying the company of younger people, The Great Bear had more tolerance when it came to dealing with kids. He rose from his folding camping throne, smiled then spoke directly at Holly, perhaps figuring she was the nearest thing to a chief they had - "I'm truly sorry for all of this. Charlie here didn't know, but we can't serve you guys anymore alcohol, but, we have soft drinks and hot sausages if you're hungry"
The one called Dave sneered, once again rolled his eyes and then whispered something in Ruthie's ear. Looking upon such bad manners with a rare scowl on her face, Patti seemed ready to jump time on these youngsters, then her mouth split into a wide smile, followed by a snicker and - "How about you Yvonne, care for some hot sausage ?" With that Charlie burst into a drunken guffaw and grabbed his crotch. Patti threw her arms around Charlie and grinded against him. Ruthie gasped watching a jet of beer come out of Whitey's nose. All of us except for Bear and R.W. cackled like monkeys. Yvonne blushed and snorted then Bear banged his walking stick against a cooler to regain order and general respect - "Alright, y'all stop that, they're young, just like we use to be"
"Speak for yourself" Whitey said sneering while taking a close look at Dave's spiked-up hair.
Holly spoke - "No thanks, we already had lunch. We were just out for a walk"
"Let's go" Dave said, backing out of the camp onto the loop road. He then called the others of his company over for some whispered conversation.
Amused by all of this Flip and I watched and waited for what would come next. Claudia on the other hand licked her lips while looking out at the youngsters as if they were a four course meal. Whitey slugged down some more beer, nodded his head over at Dave and made a jerking-off motion with his hand.

Both Dibbles stood poised and were gazing fondly at Yvonne. The brothers had many loves and passions - travel, adventure, fine dining, celebration, art, literature, socializing and most of all young women whom they often competed for favor. At times this led to some rather interesting quarrels.

Oh how the fur would fly.

Every so often these squabbles proved to be rather humorous and entertaining, but for the most part they were disgusting and beneath the band's standards. Fighting with kin or childhood friends over was looked down upon. The Dibbles were both handsome men who had little trouble catching a woman's eye, but they had other issues.
Holly, Ruthie, Yvonne and Dave began to walk away, but as they departed Yvonne shouted out to R.W. - "Bring Denny when you come up !"
"Carry your asses !" Patti yelled back, flipping them the bird.
"They won't be coming back" Bear snarled as if he was ashamed and angered by our behavior, then proceeded to berate Charlie for giving them liquor.
"Like you were never were a teenager looking to cop a buzz" Charlie returned.
"Yeah but I had a fake ID and got my own booze back then" Bear said, adding - " But if they got their own hooch up at their RV, then that's their business and I ain't holding it against them" He then growled - "Shouldn't fuck with them just because they're young !"
"They were fucking rude" Patti countered - "Entered without a hello and left without much of a goodbye, excluded all of us from an invitation to their place except for the pretty boys here. Fuck em !" Then she spat on the ground.
'Damn !' I thought - 'Never seen her like this'
Although an exotic dancer working at one of the most rough and tumble go-go joints in Virginia, Patti had always been like a happy-go-lucky beautiful plumaged bird flitting through a wide array of horn dogs, power drunks, outlaw bikers, drug merchants, drug addicts, and a good few ruffians who would drag somebody out back and kick the life out of them without a second thought or loss of gusto for that next beer.

She seemed a bit steamed up.

"You had no call to get shitty with them !" R.W. loudly complained.
Patti got right in his face and asked - "Shitty meaning rude ?"
"What, you don't think they heard that ?"
"Heard what ?"
Eyes slit in anger "Carry your asses !"
"I wanted them to hear me"
"Well they probably did" R.W. said then turned his attention to Denny who was throwing a towel over his shoulder along with a shower bag.
"Where the fuck are you going man ?" R.W. demanded to which Denny replied -
"I‘m going up to the shower house, if that's alright with you"
"For what ?" R.W. wanted to know.
"To take a shower"
"What for ?"
"To get clean, you dumbass, what the hell do you think ?"
R.W. stuck his chest out and warned his brother - "Don't be following up on Yvonne, I met her first !"
"So you've called dibs on her ?" Denny inquired stuffing a washcloth into his bag, obviously enjoying watching his brother getting worked-up into a tizzy.
"A Dibble calling dibs !" Whitey laughed, then asked - "What's next, Flip flipping out ?"
Casting a disgusted glare over at the two brothers in between tents bickering like old roosters over a house full of hens Flip stated - "Look at them, not even fully drunk yet and going at it with each other over blossom neither one has fully sniffed"
"I suspect there may be a wasp or spider hidden under the petals of that flower" I returned watching Denny prance out of camp like a rutting Buck. R.W. marching back to the table was livid and shaking his fist at Denny who had turned long enough to give his brother a shit-eating grin as he headed for the showers then beyond.
"I'll break some heads if need be" The Great Bear thus reminded everyone to keep good order. Very much still up there, the big man didn’t want anyone bringing him down. Threatening broken bones, Bear would enforce a policy of peaceful merriment.

"Claudia chuckled and said - "Never a dull waking moment with you guys, huh ?"
"Oh this is just the regular out on a bender hoot, howling holiday, you're lucky none of us are holding hard drugs and firearms" I informed her.

Flip never being one to sit still for long, got up and threw himself into the task of making preparations for tomorrow's move. He removed then stored all but the one tarp over our table and packed up supplies. With that out of the way we sat back and enjoyed our remaining time at Big Meadows. Claudia and Patti played a card game while the rest of us engaged in small talk and poking the fire. Charlie was totally slammed, the hours of heavy drinking had not only taken a toll upon him, but our liquor stocks as well. Whitey was in slightly better condition, but his beer supply was almost exhausted and no doubt very soon would be bumming brew from us. Very much still up there, Bear settled down for some guzzling. Flip wanted to smoke another one, while I had a yearning to be gone from this drunken wallow and out on a trail.

By my guess an hour of this merriment went by without a sign of Denny. R.W. had noticed it as well and was now pacing about the camp, in a snit, puffing on a cigarette. Looking at his watch he swore under his breath. "Damn-it !" He snarled then snagged a full ceramic cup of vodka from Charlie, drained it before marching out to take watch on the loop road.
"Just look at him" The Bear commented - "Why he's boiling over"
Whitey with great remorse popped open his last can of swill, shook his head and said - "Them Dibbles are gonna be locking horns before the night is done"
"He should sit his silly ass down, enjoy life and thank his lucky stars he's not behind bars in some holding cell with Flip here" I stated still somewhat pissed about our earlier misadventure.
Pulling out some wadded-up bills Whitey wagered - "I got ten bucks here that says R.W. will whomp Denny this time"
Pointing his drinking horn at Whitey, Bear growled -"Well I got twenty bucks here that says I'll stomp anyone into the ground if they start any monkey-shit at this camp”

R.W. lit up cigarette pacing back and forth across the loop road kicking gravel at every turn about. "We can't have him making tracks up to that RV and starting some shit" The Bear had no sooner said when R.W. quick-stepped it back into camp proclaiming he was going up to the RV. Draining another cup of vodka he then demanded a ride.
"You need to sit your ass down, relax, burn one and cool off" Bear so ordered then went on to say - "If you and your brother must throw-down, then take it out deep in the woods somewhere. We can't have you fellows scrapping and rolling around in the dirt like stray cats, hissing, screaming and bringing down the heat on the rest of us. You dig ? Tell him Jim"
I knew exactly what The Great Bear wanted me to say. Oh how I knew the words so well. It concerned something that gave us great pride. I took a quaff of ale, cleared my throat then said in a loud voice - "We've never got caught breaking any rules or caused any trouble that would get us expelled from a state or federal park campground"
"We never have been kicked out of a place like this" The Bear reminded R.W., but it sounded more like a warning.

It was then Flip remembered he wanted to burn some more Whoodee. He offered us all invitation to join him. Charlie patted R.W. on his back and said - "Forget about that chick, smoke with us"
"Might as well" R.W. said with a sigh then added - "But that Yvonne is a fox, eh ?"
"Probably looking to hook-up with some booze or Whoodee" Whitey stated.
Accepting Flip's invitation Claudia, Charlie, R.W and Whitey piled into the tent. Seeing I was not the only one sitting this one out - "Y'all not going in there ?"
The Great Bear informed me that was it for him while Patti claimed to be holding off until later. She asked me - "How about you ?"
Picking up a canteen and grabbing my pack out of Flip's truck, I then took up my walking stick and replied - "Nope, a bit too crowded in there for my likes. Think I'm gonna get out on the trail to take a good walk without any of the antics we experienced earlier today" I invited her to come along, but Patti assured me she had enough of the trails for one day.
"Have fun, be safe and stay on the main trails" She said then bid me farewell. Bear grunted out a goodbye as well.

Bowing to my friends, I turned and struck out.

In no time I was on The Appalachian Trail heading North again. It felt good to be alone for a change and away from the drunken wallow our camp had become Not being slowed down or distracted by stragglers and would-be Whoodee raiders I made good time. Soon I was nearing that path by The Little Hawksbill, my tread became light and silent.
Feeling confident my passing was not detected by any gun packing ogre further down the path. I came to a halt but not before making the big bend and ascending the rise. Now beside me cascaded the stream we had took rest at earlier. Checking that same patch of lose dirt I saw that no one else had passed or lay track. Shifting my pack I left the trail and ascended with great stealth.
Upon reaching the large flat rock the five of us had sat earlier I stood still, scanned my surroundings before seating myself down in 'Injun' fashion. Pulling out a bone from a pack of cigarettes, I had myself an enjoyable highland smoke. Barely finishing that bone, I flicked the roach upon the swift moving water.
"Eat that, crawdad" I said looking down at the place where a dead Salamander was before. I took a long gander down this falling stream that cut a narrow swath through the green upland growth. What a view and unlike my first noon-day visit, all was well shaded. For awhile my mind emptied all woeful thoughts and I focused upon the pristine beauty of this spot. Hearing only an occasional chirp and falling waters I thought - 'This would be a good place for me to spend life's last fleeting minutes before forever taking my place in the spirit world.

A large metalic blue shelled beetle making it's way across the rock caught my attention

Was this a case of being much too whacked on booze and high-grade trip-Whoodee going on four days, or was something very strange afoot.
I thought about Bear,, hopefully he won't cleave anyone's head while I'm gone. Then there were the Dibbles. No telling how long it would be until they start jumping time on each other. That kind of disorderly conduct can not be tolerated and is against the rules. Behavior that could very well bring us unwanted company.

Pondering deeply I lost all track of time as my thoughts returned to Claudia.
.
Part of me wanted to believe the best - That she, Mildred and Guy were naught but free spirited, fun loving older people, out on a road trip, enjoying the scenery, looking to get buzzed.
Claudia ? Hopefully some young looking old broad wanting to sow her wild wanton oats in a tent, a truck bed or under an open sky. Another part of me feared she was either some kind of soul sucking vampire. Looking down I took notice of a part of me that wanted to have a roll in a sleeping bag with this beautiful and mysterious woman, be she human or not. Being rather ripped on high-quality weed, my thoughts bounced about possibilities, stirring that other part of me.
It was like Old Horny himself shouted at me from behind a tree - ‘Go for it Jimmy, she's quite a dish, and this is your last chance’ But it was not old Heck I heard, it was a faint, strange muffled murmuring from far below. I dismissed it as stream music.

The near to final flashes of a red sun slowly sinking westward slightly filtered in through thick mountain growth and shadows grew deeper near about this rocky perch. Looking at my watch I saw it was 6:45 and wondered where the time went. Time to head back before darkness and devils catch me upon the Appalachian Trail.
Just as careful but a little slower I made my way down the cascading run. Upon reaching the trail I checked for tracks along the streamside. Someone or more had indeed moved down the trail while I sat high above this point. Perhaps whoever issued that strange murmuring sound also left clear signs of passing. A pair of tracks where pressed into the lose sandy dirt. Recognizing one of the imprints I thought - 'Audacious enough to leave clear spoor. Deception goes with them and doom follows'
I noticed that someone's foot had slid down a small muddy bank and into the stream. Right by that spot I saw chunks of bark had been chewed away recently on a dead tree at trail’s edge. A half eaten piece of grub worm lay on a small rock below the tree. Seeing this I slipped the little Sharpfinger off my belt and replaced it with the Khyber knife from my pack. Having not unsheathed this weapon since a camping trip at Sherando sometime back, I drew and inspected the murderous 14" blade of watered steel set in a horn handle. I had bought it for ten bucks at a flea market, but knew this fine knife was the real deal, from the Hindu Kush and worth a lot more. It was an excellent blade, sharp and sturdy enough to lop off a head or find a heart. I re-sheathed upon my left hip and quietly moved down the trail.

Coming to another patch of lose dirt I found another track, this time unshod and very well defined. My hackles rose like a stray tomcat. Drawing a long breath through clinched teeth I inwardly swore - 'Fuck ! What critters are these ?'
It was small 7" in length. Wide in the front and narrow at the heel it showed the impressions of four strange shaped splayed toes. This track came from either a seriously deformed individual or something that was not human. I nervously pulled a cigarette out to hotbox, but thought better of it and left it hanging out of my mouth unlit. Tobacco is a fine medicine, but I had no time to perform any rituals with this filtered full-flavored cigarette. After some minutes of swift, stealthy striding I came within earshot of shuffling feet and unintelligible murmuring my thoughts were probably - 'What the fuck are you doing, man? Just take another break and let them move on far ahead'
Aside from the urge to reach camp before dusk could spawn shadowy uncertainty, another need drove me forth.

I heard that same weird murmuring again traveling on the breeze from around a bend, but it's source was blocked from my sight by a dark tangle of dense foliage.
Getting off the trail and moving out a bit, I turned to move parallel with whatever was ahead of me. Depending on my woodcraft I trailed beside their noisy progress, but still could not see them and derived a small amount of comfort knowing they could not see me. Obscured from each other's view I silently picked up my pace as to move ahead of them thus in good distance ahead of these critters re-take the trail and beat them back to Big Meadows or perhaps having a good look at them. I moved in stealth all the while chancing glances, my eyes straining to pierce the thick undergrowth down at trail's edge.

Abruptly the woods opened up and in front of me loomed a high-wide rock outcropping of gray stone. Without hesitation I ascended it's steep-slanted side and threw myself flat upon a small level near it's top. I had a little cover behind a clump of near dead weeds and creeper vines attached to some rotted branch litter. I was glad Flip wasn't with me clad in one of those bright blue or white shirts. I now had a good view down at the trail and not long to wait. Maybe it was the weed playing tricks on my mind, but what I saw shambling down The Appalachian Trail tugged at already tightly strung nerves.

The fearful excitement I experienced made me shiver as if with a chill. At first I attempted to take the pair as Mildred and Guy, but that wasn't happening.

As they came closer into view I saw this was not so. Not the Mildred and Guy I had dined, drank and doped with back at camp. From what I could see these two were not all the way human. From a distance they appeared to have elongated muzzles almost reminding me of a dog or fox. Both were barefooted and carrying their shoes and what appeared to be a dead animal in the Guy-creature's hand. Slowly and silently I shifted my pack in order to remove my spy glass. First I focused in on the male's face.
Bombed on grass, a jaunt through the brush and my distance away from them on this rock, I could of mistaken their head shapes or facial features, but now through the spy glass, fears stood confirmed.

Clearly seeing Guy-critter's profile, an icy chill raced down my spine.

It was somewhat man-shaped, but unmistakably inhuman. Slightly shifting the glass I had a good look at Mildred as well. She was lumbering a little ahead of her mate. Same extended muzzle, flat sloping foreheads and fox-shaped, high-placed ears that were a pale color inside and furry on their backs. They appeared to have short dun hued fur all over their faces with the exception of nose tips, and lips. To me they looked like the clothed anthropormorphic animal characters from a Disney cartoon. Focusing on Guy again I saw this was no handsome red fox playing Robin Hood. This was something diabolical and well beyond my complete understanding. To my horror they halted and I scooted on my belly further back behind what cover was to be had. I still had them well within my scope. Their mute expressions, motionlessness and whole overall aspect was unnatural. I would expect to see something like this on a four-way hit of blotter, but had gave up tripping years ago.

My whole bag of Whoodee for a good camera right now.

Somewhere behind and above me, up the slope an Owl hooted and with that Guy's head jerked upwards, muzzle raised as if sniffing the air. Then suddenly it seemed Mildred looked up and made eye contact with me through the spy glass. Those eyes were not human. I had to fight down an urge to scramble off this rock and up the hillside as those eyes were solid black, cold, expressionless and soul lacking as that dead salamander I saw earlier.
Now both were scanning my outcropping hideout, prompting me to believe something was amiss. Guy shambled forward and I saw what he carried it was a dead Cottontail . He approached the rock's base.

I placed one hand on the big knife's horn handle.

The smaller one, Mildred remained on the trail with her arms hanging limp, her slanted head raised and now slowly swaying. I saw her mouth move, but at this distance could hear no sound escaping through what appeared to be leathery lips and pointed teeth. Guy-Critter, at the outcropping's base was now out of my field of vision. Slowly I pulled the long knife from it's sheath. Taking a look at Mildred before putting my spyglass down, I saw her mouth still moving as if talking. Her legs were bent in a very unnatural manner.
Thinking Guy was now climbing towards my position I felt perspiration freeze on my forehead. Every muscle tense and ready for the spring, I waited.
I was scared shitless and efforts to shake this fear that gripped me almost unseated both my hiding place and reason. Holding it all down I remained as still as a baby rabbit. Tightening the grip on my knife restored a bit of confidence. Then something strange happened. I heard a weird wailing sound from below. Looking at Mildred without my spyglass I saw she had both hands to her mouth issuing forth a call. Within seconds I heard the faint flapping of velvet feathered wings above. A huge owl passed overhead and continued it's flight towards the meadows. Looking again down at the trail I saw Guy was walking towards his mate. Breathing a sigh of relief I knew there would be no fight upon this rock.

Still somewhat shaken I managed a low chuckle realizing all of this was so very far removed from any other stoned hike through the wood especially so when Mildred and Guy became engulfed in a glowing haze which obscured them from my sight. Taking up my spyglass up again I focused in. Swearing under my breath as that haze cleared I saw both had re-established their human guise. Seating themselves on a large trailside rock, they put their socks and shoes on.

Before moving off down the trail they both shot final glances upwards at the outcropping.

For about a half hour after they departed I lay on my belly listening for any sounds of them flanking this position. To my relief none were to be heard. Perhaps they realized this would be a hard place to attack. Picking my stiff body up into a sitting position I brushed a large millipede off my pants leg and lit up that cigarette that had become stuck to my lips. Reflecting upon what just occurred my thought concerning it all was - 'I've seen my fair share of weird shit in a life not so normal, but this almost scared the crap out of me.

Then I had to remind myself of what sat back at camp no doubt awaiting word from one or all of her servants.

Finishing my smoke I rose, rubbed out the stiffness and descended.
Upon reaching the spot where they stood I saw that Guy had forgotten his dead cottontail. Cheating the devil of a snack, if so he returned I pitched the carcass into a deep and tangled ravine. Around the bend, splashed and still running down a rock was urine. It appeared to be sprayed in such a manner as to mark territory. Smelling the foul odor of concentrated piss, I swiftly continued on my way. My concern now was getting back to camp as quickly as possible to tell all my companions to get their steel near to hand, but thought better of it. Didn't want to alarm or trigger our guest with some post-alarm frenzy. Not a good idea initiating savage and violent conflict at a policed federal park campground. I would though give limited warning to Bear and Flip if at all possible to find a time to speak of what occurred at the outcropping.

I really didn't want to see Whitey hacking somebody or something up with that big-ass Bowie knife or Dibbles brandishing blades, especially in their crazed lust-struck condition. It was only last July at a small coastal Virginia seafood festival following a drunken verbal tiff, Denny clobbered R.W. with a wooden crab mallet. More angry than hurt R.W. lunged at his brother with an Oyster knife. The more alert Denny sidestepped his brother a split second before the plunging knife missed him and was buried half-handle deep into a large watermelon sitting on a table. Needless to say because of their actions all of our party were asked to leave. Hopefully Bear could keep Denny and R.W. apart or else put them down.

Flip and I would try not to quaff heavily this night and share sentry duty. I'm sure he wouldn't mind putting on a pot of coffee. Bear would be limited in his fighting abilities, but perhaps I could count on Whitey as a reserve. With any luck Mildred and Guy as usual, would not be in our camp. It seemed we were in a precarious situation, but it wasn't like anyone of us could call the cops. We were on our own.

Ever watchful, I made my way down the scenic Appalachian Trail, back to
camp..

[Atehequa]

16 - The Shadowy Glade


Through the trees and into a glade
Relieving myself away from our good table
Approaching silently, catching me unaware
The deadly truth from an ancient fable

Seeing her there in that shadowy glade
Beautifully evil and of another kind
Ready to revel in her venomous flow
Having already done so in my mind


Dusk was upon Big Meadows when I entered the camping area and already nocturnal amphibians and insects sang songs that were already old before man walked upright. I had thought to have caught an instant flashing of headlights moving away from me and then disappearing into the gathering shadows. The place was mostly vacant, but here and there I saw the far off flickering of campfires. In a distant opening a small herd of deer grazed. Going on there were other night creatures as well. At one point I had to stand as still as stone while Brother Skunk bobbed across in front of me on the loop road.

The reasoning behind going out of my way and through the RV section could be summed up as simple curiosity. Moving silently by a small group of old-folks sitting around a bright propane lantern near their 'lodge on wheels', I viewed another group of people sitting by an RV not 60 yards away. Keeping my distance in the thickening gloom I sneaked past Holly, Ruthie, Yvonne, Dave and Denny unobserved. They were all sitting at a picnic table, drinking beer and engaged in loud drunken conversation. At least they had a decent fire going. Passing their camp I melted into the shadows.

It was good to see our fire burning high and bright.

The Great Bear sat at the table playing blackjack with Flip, R.W. and Whitey, everyone else was absent. I called in and entered at the same time. Whitey was already into the ale supply, but never the less greeted me and handed me a bottle a cold bottle of my own brew.
"Thank you for being so generous with my ale Whitey"
"Not a problem Jim" He returned, tapping his cards for a hit. Bear offered a greeting growl and asked - "Where the hell did you go ?"
"Oh just a walk on the Appalachian Trail" Then I inquired on the whereabouts of the two ladies.
“ Patti and Claudia went to the restrooms and store" Bear responded.
"And Charlie ?"
Whitey issued a short bark of laughter and replied - "Down past the count. Fucking lightweight here of late"
"That boy must be ailing" I said, with a worried thought in my head. Bear then informed me that Mildred and Guy had dropped on by to say goodnight - "Said they wanted to turn in early"
Grinding the words between my teeth -"I'll bet they did"
R.W. wanted to know - "Any sign of Denny ?"
"Nope" I lied, not wanting to see this Dibble get bent out of shape again.
"What the fuck is that big ass sticker for ?" The Bear asked, referring to the Khyber knife sheathed on my belt.

Taking a good look around I then told them what had occurred on the trail.

They halted their gambling as I gave account of my strange experience atop the outcropping. Taking a big swig and looking at my friends, I thought - 'Ale and companions have never before brought me so much comfort'
"Sure you wasn't just fucked-up stoned, while watching them from the rocks ?" Whitey asked while lighting up a cigarette. I guess he was just attempting to make light and airy practical sense of the matter.
"As a matter of fact I was stoned, but not so far up there to see things that weren't there" Kind of ticked off I grabbed a brown paper grocery bag and one of Charlie's magic markers and sketched the Guy-Critter's profile -"This is what I saw !"
They all had a good look before I tossed the drawing into our blazing fire. R.W. exclaimed - "Damnation ! some weird shit going down"
"Burned-out bastard probably had an LSD flashback" Whitey said while watching Guy's critter image burst into flame, blacked, then turn to floating grey ash, blowing away in evening's mountain breeze.
"Screw you, drunken Tarheel, I know what I saw, plain as your
goofy-ass self!"
"Okay Jim, I'll take your word for it" Guess he figured a walloping would come next.
"So what do we do ?" The Bear asked in a serious tone.
I drained the cup, cleared my throat and replied - "So far they have not struck at us in a violent manner, but I suspect there's an energy drain going on"
"Energy drain ? " R.W. asked then threw down a shot.
"Yeah, a medicine man once told me about creatures that eat essence and grow strong"

Whitey guzzled another one of my ales, burped then laughed - "She can eat me"
"Make light of it if you wish, but I'd keep steel near at hand and in plain sight if I were y'all"
Whitey snagged another ale then asked - "What the hell for ?"
"Maybe they'll think twice about ripping out our throats if they see we mean business" I said, whipping out the long Khyber blade and waving it in Whitey's face.

Both Bear and Whitey walked over to their tents for weapons of choice.

For Whitey it was an oversized hand forged Bowie knife with a 15" blade.
And the Great Bear ? He limped back to our table with that wicked looking broad axe over his shoulder.
Reluctantly I lent R.W. my little skinning knife after having refusing him a pipe tomahawk. "Don't want to find myself pulling that out of your brother's gizzard" I told him as he slipped the sheath on his belt. Whitey, with a wild gleam in his psychotic eyes was slashing at the air and jabbing his huge Bowie knife into our table.
"Put that fucking thing up before I take it and skin you alive with your own knife !" Bear threatened while leaning that murderous looking axe on a tree next to his folding camping throne. Flip as always wore his fine Puma brand hunting knife and now had at ready a lead filled knocker. It was the heavy half of a pool stick that had been hollowed out and filled with lead. With a decent half-swing it could lay a man low and still.

Bear always sensible, blunt and to the point when it came to such grim matters asked - "Why don't we just dispatch these ghouls and have done with it ?" then added - "It's not like they're going to be missed in this world"
"Yeah hack em into chunks !" Whitey snarled prompting Flip to give him a worried look.
"Oh I don't think that would go over too spiffy here at ranger patrolled Big Meadows campground. Now if we were far out in the sticks primitive camping, things would be different" I replied watching Whitey pull out his Bowie again and wave it wildly.
"I ain't ever cut off a head before" He informed us.
"Put that damn thing away !" Bear ordered.
"Hopefully you won't have to Whitey" I said.
"Fucking were-varmints !" Whitey cackled - "They transform during a full moon, come to somebody’s yard during the wee hours of the morning with terrible hunger in their black eyes, tipping over trashcans and eating garbage"
Even though this could very well be a precarious situation we had got ourselves into, I roared with laughter as did my companions.
I needed a good laugh and after my encounter with the were-varmints and really wanted to get roaring drunk, but decided it was best to just sip ale. Bear noticing a few reddish brown flecks on the ax blade he rose, got a hold of an oily rag and proceeded to rub these blemishes out of his steel. "Rust is an axe man's worst enemy" He said finishing up his task.

The distant moving glow of headlights prompted me to toss another chunk of walnut on the fire. Bear shot me a serious glance.
"What ?" I asked
He quaffed a good measure of beer and replied - "You know we could be all wrong about this, but I don't think so" Taking another gulp he continued in a sullen tone - "We may be in more danger than anyone else on this ridge"
R.W. wanted to know - "How so ?"
The Bear issued a low rumbling belch then went on to say - "In danger, if our reasons for fear are correct"
"It's hard to believe such a nice lady is some kind of supernatural monster" R.W. stated as he uncorked the rum.
"It is until you take time to think what we could be dealing with" I responded, adding - "A very old creature who is a timeless master of illusion and deception. One who has marked us for it's own"

All too soon we heard tires turning gravel. It was the ladies in Whitey’s truck pulling forward then backing in.

Flip, always the gentleman, that is when ladies were present, swiftly rose, dashed around to open passenger and driver’s doors. Claudia slid off the seat and approached our table with a graceful stride. Patti followed bouncing along. I didn't know all that much concerning how she carried herself as an adult entertainer, but here in the Blue Ridge, Patti was like a jovial child. She had bought us a bag full of moon pies and was now distributing these snacks whether we wanted them or naught.
"Anybody started supper yet ?" She asked as Claudia and Flip seated themselves, the former right across from me again. Devouring his moon pie in two bites, then chasing it down with beer The Great Bear said - "Guess I'd better grill up what meat is left"
"And what meat is left ?" I inquired. The Great Bear turned to Flip and the Birdman announced - "12 pork chops, 2 rib eyes, 1 T-bone, pack and a half of hotdogs, 1 pack of bacon and of course some of those hot sausages, already cooked.
"Fuck man ! " Whitey asked - "Did you take an inventory ?"
"What do you think ?" The Birdman hissed. One thing we could always count on was Flip's sense of order when it came to camping. A neat freak he's always brought along a broom, dust brush and pan along with a good supply of cleaning items. He never shirked any camp chores, could make good fires and set up a tarp shelter that almost always kept the weather off of us. He was a good man to have on such an adventure.
I was very surprised to see that Bear allowed Flip to help in the cooking, trusting him with the very important task of dumping old ash and cleaning the grill as to make it ready to fire-up.

Claudia rising no doubt noticing our display of weapons, especially the Khyber blade sheathed on my hip, inquired about my walk in the wild.
"Ah, just a little hike southward on the trail" I lied, studying her face for the slightest change of expression, but there were none. Glancing over at Bear's great ax leaning against the tree, Claudia asked - "You guys planning to sack Big Meadows Lodge after dinner ?"
To that The Great Bear answered with a smile - "Heard there was a bear roaming around here the last few nights" His head tilted as he continued - "They've been known to eat people"
"Hungry Bear !" R.W. laughed.
Claudia managed a seemingly nervous giggle and said - "Well I hope this bear isn't planning to eat me"
"Only if you want me to" Bear responded then stuck his tongue out and wiggled it.
"Quite the charmer wouldn't you say ?" I stated, all the while holding back my laughter. Patti begged the Bear to repeat his tongue wiggling, which he did before rising from his seat to inspect the meat.
"Pork chop, steak or hot sausage ?" The Bear asked.
"Steak" Claudia replied, as did R.W., Patti, Flip, Whitey and I requested pork chops. Bear was going to save the T-bone for breakfast and enjoy pork chops and leftover sausage for his supper. Even with a lame leg, the big man needed a lot of fuel.

Our grill at ready to be fired, Bear thanked, then dismissed Flip from any further grilling endeavors. Soon the coals were blazing adding light to our camp.
Rising from the bench I announced - “Nature calls” and made for the woods behind our camp. Although dusk was deepening into night, I had enough light to see my way. Walking through about 20’ of stunted trees and emerging into the little clearing I had stopped at before, there was still in my mind an uneasy feeling. Scanning these surroundings, I then emptied my bladder and finished up with a shake and zip.

“Don’t put that away on my account”

I immediately recognized that voice and replied - “Don’t want anything in these woods to jump up and bite me”
“I don’t bite” she laughed - “I only nibble”
My eyes well accustomed to this shadowy gloom, I could see her well enough. Feeling somewhat confident having a big knife hanging on my hip, I boldly inquired - “What brings you here without so much as a sound ?”
Flashing me a smile, Claudia replied -“The same as you”
“The same as me ?”
Unsnapping her shorts, they fell to her feet then she proceeded to peel down a pair of red panties. Bottom half uncovered, she stood there smiling for several seconds and then much to my surprise, squatted down and began peeing. I could hear spurting liquid tapping upon the leaf litter.
Finishing, she rose and hung her bottom clothing over a shrub branch instead of slipping them back on.

She advanced, never breaking eye contact with me and looking into hers I had thoughts of whipping out either my blade or crank. Squatting down again, this time directly in front of me, she gently went about pulling out the latter. Caressing it with her hands, I could do nothing but look into those amber eyes.
“I’m glad to have caught you still up” She purred.
Unable to return with any witty comeback, I said - “Yeah”
With mouth open she ran that pointed tongue around her moist full lips. Lifting my shirt with one hand, she briefly sniffed at my navel - “You know these home remedies are not always effective” There was a weird flickering in her eyes which had me thinking of the large knife now slipping down with my unbelted and unbuttoned pants upon the ground. Any sense of cautious prevention bobbed atop warm pleasurable waves. I was too spellbound to make a grab at my knife. She issued a soft mocking giggle then took me into her mouth. Instead of firmly gripping a Khyber knife handle, my right hand held the back of her head. Tilting my head and gazing at dusk’s darkening sky, I wondered - ‘If this is an ending to be feared, then why does it feel so good ?’

I had all but surrendered.

Suddenly she stopped and rose to her feet staring deep into my eyes if not my soul. It all felt like a dream.
“Now isn’t this a lot nicer ?”
But before I could attempt an answer, Claudia turned from me and walked over to a sapling. Bending down and grasping the lower trunk with both hands, she thrust her shapely bottom up. Upon a sultry exhale she said bade me - “Come on”
Like one bewitched I slowly advanced all the while taking in the view of Claudia’s well turned legs, shapely rear and noticeable glistening between her upper inner thighs.

No more than a couple of yards away, I stopped dead in my tracks. A large doe, one of the half tame Big Meadows deer moved slowly between us. The spell was broken.

Bent over with both hands still grasping the tree, Claudia turned her head in time to see the doe move into the deeper foliage. She issued an inhuman hiss then more or less ordered me to - “Come on !”
It wasn’t the rustling of leaf litter and underbrush as much as it was clarity that prompted me to pull up my pants.
“Come on ! What are you scared of ?”
The rustling grew even louder and I gripped the handle of my knife, ready to whip it out, expecting her freaky familiars bursting into this quickly darkening glade. That fearful feeling within me subsided as I watched Bear lumber into the clearing. He looked down at Claudia still grasping the sapling, her shapely rear thrust out rivaling the rising moon.
“Are we looking for signs of root blight ?”
If Claudia wasn’t aware of Bear’s presence before, she was now and acted accordingly by shifting her rear a bit allowing him a better view.
Casting me a roguish slit eyed smile he asked - "Or is it termites ?”

Hand over hand, Claudia pulled herself up the sapling and then turned to face us.
“Root blight” She replied in no friendly tone. Sashaying over to where her clothing hung, she put on her underwear and shorts before leaving the glade.

Limping over to the sapling she had grasped, Bear pissed on it.

“Did I interrupt something ?” He laughed
Knowing it was Bear who disturbed that doe, thus causing her to move on through this clearing I returned - “Yes you did and I am glad of it”

“Then she was looking for termites” Bear said as we headed back to camp..

[Atehequa]

17 - Battling Brothers

Slinging out warm ale from my cup, I opened our propane stove and got it going so as to heat up what was left of morning's coffee. Aside from our current situation, I really needed a break from all the boozing.
"Coffee ?" Whitey asked in surprise.
"Yeah, what of it ?"
"Ain't that for morning ?"
"Not in your case Whitey" Then I went on - "Yep, I'm gonna give my liver a break, something you should do every so often"
Whitey beamed, drained a cup of ale then proclaimed - "Good, more for me !"
"Look man you can have a few more, but after that it's either hard spirits or naught for ye"
Whitey's mouth flew open in protest - "A few more ? Why shit man, you have a case stored in the tent, not counting the ones on ice!"
"Regardless" I told him - "If I catch your fingers in my cooler too many times, you'll be learning to use a hook instead of a hand"
"You wouldn't do that, would you ?"
"Try me, you shriveled liver sot"
Shaking her head, Claudia said - "I'd hate to see when you guys really get angry with each other" She then cast another glance at Bear' hanging axe.
"Oh we never get angry with kinfolk and friends" The Bear informed her then ask - "Do we R.W. ?"
"We're always at our best when you're around, Bear" I laughed, watching the big man go about his cooking preparations which at this time was letting the coals burn down, quaffing his beer and munching on a cold-hot sausage.

It grew darker, with a nice breeze blowing through our encampment. Thinking to take advantage of wind direction, along with the scent of fire and grill smoke, I decided on twisting-up two numbers to enjoy before supper. I handed Flip one to light and fired-up the other myself. The bones went in opposite directions around the table and in scant time everyone of us were up there with the exception of Bear.
Too much alcohol and Whoodee had whacked R.W and Whitey particularly hard. They were cooked and no doubt needed some grub in their stomachs if they planned to be still kicking tonight.

Taking the pot off our propane stove, I poured myself a cup of hot coffee.

Claudia regarded me with scintillate eyes, then in a rich sensuous voice asked - "Climbing on the wagon, are we ?"
"I am, but you can help yourself to whatever there is to drink" Then went on to state - " I make it a rule not to get drunk more than three days in a row"
Regarding me with a smirk, she asked - "So you going to be more lively tonight ?"
"Well I ain't getting stupid-ass drunk, if that what you are asking"
Claudia licked her full lips and issued a - "Hmmmmmm"
R.W. wolf-whistled and said - "Go ahead Skid"
Whitey let forth a howl and Patti giggled while Claudia attempted to balefully stare a hole through me. My left knee twitched as I expected her foot to come into play, but it didn't. The fire in those eyes, her mysterious smile and the posturing of that voluptuous body had made my blood boil, but now Claudia seemed to me the stranger she was. Every rich syllable flowing past those full lips were sticky sweet like honey. Every gesture and movement set Claudia far removed from any other woman I'd ever encountered.

Her strange beauty I now found troubling rather than soothing.

As the coals were much too hot, Bear had prepared Flip's chops the way he liked them, burnt black like chunks of asphalt road patch. By order he cooked everybody else's. Claudia's ultra-rare steak was even more red than R.W.'s, it lay in a puddle of gore which was beginning to soak into her camp potatoes turning them a sick pinkish color. With a trickle of beef blood running down her lower lip she inquired about my chops.
"Bled dry and well done" I replied then went on to inform her - "You know, Bear will cook that, if you like"
"He already did" She returned while spearing a pink potato chunk with a plastic fork, then sticking it between her lips. It wasn't so much the gore soaked potatoes that sought to hinder my appetite than it was the person eating them. At least I had time to wolf-down half my plate before pushing it aside and lighting up a cigarette. I was nigh near a confrontation with this person or creature, but choked down my growing enmity, got up and poked the fire.

One thing was for certain, the spell had been broken. I was beholding to both Bear and the doe for that. Other things were shaping up as well. Considering a future with a hook on a stump, Whitey had slacked off my ale and now nursed a rum-n-coke. Even the Great Bear had laid down his horn and popped open a soda. R.W. on the other hand was quite slammed and getting more boisterous by the minute. I had hoped supper would of sobered our drunken dandy up some, but after watching him wash down his food with booze, I knew that wasn't happening.
" Shhhhhhhhh ! Somebody's coming" Flip's sharp ears had picked up footfalls from out on the loop road before the rest of us heard anything.

All eyes were trained to what we could see of the road. Flip quietly got up and stepped into the shadows.

"Hallo to camp ! Coming in !"
It was Denny's voice and as he ambled into camp we saw he was not alone. Close behind him, Holly and Yvonne, their eyes darting about in attempt to take in their surroundings.
Following a loud belch The Great Bear hand wiped beer from his beard and welcomed Denny back - "Well, well, look what the evening breeze blew in"
Flip stepping out of the shadows and offered - "Get ye some vittles y'all, there’s plenty of taters and a few pork chops left" as he had noticed all three sniffing supper's aroma and licking their chomps. Always hungry and never turning away a bite to eat, Denny helped himself to a plate as did the other two arrivals. Patti glared at the two, but especially at Yvonne as we made room and provide coolers for them to sit at our crowded table. Noticing the icy looks Patti kept flashing the two, I wondered if Bear would able to deal with a cat fight. None of us failed to notice R.W. cutting his eyes at Denny who openly composed himself in such a manner as to win Yvonne's favor.

I could feel it in the air.

R.W. very much wanted to jump time on his brother, but was still clearheaded enough to know that Bear would hang his hide on a bramble if he started any shit.
But that was apt to change with every gulp of booze R.W. poured down his gullet.
"Damn fine pork chop, Bear, I could eat two of these " Denny said going to work with knife, fork and teeth.
"Here you can have mine" I offered, having a pork chop left.
"Yeah, Denny would eat the ass out of a mule's butt for a snack" R.W. stated no doubt attempting to provoke his brother, who was now hand feeding Yvonne some camp bread.
"Patti, watching the love birds sneered - "Aww, isn't that cute"
Overly noticing their little public show of affection, R.W. had reached his breaking point. I knew it was coming, seeing it in his eyes. Whitey grinned in anticipation of what was to come while I thought - 'Not here, not now, not in front of everyone'

I turned to The Great Bear who seemed unconcerned as this tension mounted.

Denny paid his brother's slurred insult no mind and continued showering Yvonne with what attentions he could. It was when he slipped his arm around the young lady and gave her a kiss on her neck, R.W.'s altered emotions erupted. He slung a fork load of camp potatoes full into Denny’s face, then moved in for the attack, flying out of his seat and straight at his brother.
As Denny swiftly closed in, shoulders bobbing, setting his brother up for a right punch to the eye while feinting a left jab. R.W. stepped back stunned and Denny leaped forward landing another blow on his brother‘s head.
R.W. reacted quickly, delivering a fast few hard hooks to Denny's mouth. Two ruby-like drops of blood spurted upon Whitey's shirt.
Denny came back with a solid punch to R.W.'s other eye. Maddened by the pain and deep in a drunken rage, R.W. landed a savage kick to his brother's thigh.

Later, upon seeing his brother's bruise, he would admit the kick was intended for Denny's nuts.

He followed that kick with a jab into Denny's guts. R.W. then proceeded to rained blows upon his brother's head. This continued until Denny, using his head as a ram, slammed R.W. hard up against a tree. Then they went full at each other. Both swiftly striking with such fury, the air around them seemed full a flying fists. Fortunate for us diners this scrap had moved away from our table.
Turning to The Great Bear who was watching this fight while wolfing down hunks of buttered camp bread, I asked - "Don't you think it's time to cut into that dance ?" To my surprise he replied -
"Oh let them have their fun, maybe they'll knock each other out"
"You better do something, before it becomes a problem !"
"Ahh let em beat the crap out of one another" Whitey gleefully said, obviously enjoying this fracas from his ringside seat. He went as far as re-submitting his earlier wager - "Ten bucks on the Poodle" He waved bills in the air, but no one took that bet.

Locked in combat the brothers now rolled around on the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning to Bear once more I asked - "Do you want the rangers to come and haul the whole lot of us away ?"
At this point I was ready to quell this nonsense myself.
"Alright, alright" The Bear laughed, sitting his drinking horn popping paw knuckles as he slowly rose. Limping over to the dueling Dibbles, Bear grabbed a handful of Denny's shirt. Yanking him off R.W. with such force, Denny flew through the air a good few yards landing none-too softly against an oak trunk then crumbled into a heap.
R.W., half blinded by sweat, dust and a bleeding brow, still addled by fighting madness, came off the ground and landed a blow square on Bear's massive chest. The Bear quickly responded with a wicked back hand strike to R.W.'s jaw.

His legs turning to rubber, R.W. pitched face forward onto the hard ground with a thud. We knew the night was over for this dueling Dibble brother.

Turning to Denny who was attempting to rise, Bear ordered - "Drag this drunken idiot to y'all's tent, you dumbass !"
Battered and somewhat punch-drunk, Denny attempted to pull his brother along - "A little help here if you don't mind" He mumbled through mashed lips. Flip lent a hand.
"Aren't you going to see if he's not hurt ?" Claudia protested as R.W.'s dragging head bounced off rocks and roots, then into the tent.
"He'll feel that in the morning" I chuckled.
"Oh he's hurt alright " Whitey laughed and went on - "I got ten bucks here that says he'll be in a world of hurt tomorrow"
Claudia appearing a little disgusted wanted to know - "You're betting on that man's battered condition ?"
Whitey replied with a savage grin - "More like a forecast "
"A forecast ?" Claudia now standing, asked.

Whitey made his prediction.

"Yeah, tomorrow's forecast for R.W.'s condition - Intense pain during the morning hours with a possible chance of a fractured jaw tapering off over the next few days, or unless he seeks medical attention" Then he gave it to me - "Back to you Jim"
"Thank's Whitey, sounds kind of unsettling, should the viewers keep all their pets inside ?"

Having quite enough of this heathen experience, Yvonne slid off the bench with a disgusted look upon her face promptly informed us - “We didn't come here to watch drunk rednecks fight it out !" Then she told Holly to - "Let’s go !"
Holly sat transfixed by our usual party-time goings on. She no doubt, up to now had lived somewhat of a sheltered life, probably a happy peaceful place where blood didn't splatter during the dinner hour.
"Rednecks is it ?" Denny seemed to be offended at the girl who minutes earlier had set him aglow.
"Come on Holly, lets go !" Yvonne said after taking notice of Bear's cleaver hanging there, blade reflecting the fire.
"Rednecks ?" Denny repeated before stuffing some pork chop past his bloodied lips, now swollen twice their normal size.
"That was extremely rude of you, Muffin" Patti said in no friendly tone, pointing a finger at Yvonne. Now it looked like our only little ray of pure joy, kindness and merriment was about ready to come across the table at Yvonne and rip her to shreds. Instead she bid our two new guest a steep jagged send off - "Carry your asses !"
Yvonne's jaw dropped, then she cast a glance at Denny, blood oozing from his mouth and nose, shoveling camp taters down his gullet, then by chance looked at Bear who was again quaffing beer from his horn. He spat a drunk, drowned insect into the fire and with an unusual kindly voice said - "But young lady, they were doing nothing but contesting over your sweet favor" Taking up his ale again, then spitting out yet another winged, soggy insect, The Bear asked Yvonne - "What more could suit for a declaration of true love ?"
He then issued a loud burp and proceeded to pick an insect leg out of his teeth.
This time Yvonne tugged at Holly's arm - "Come on Holly !"
With his head tilted almost in a dog-like manner The Great Bear asked again - "What more suits ?" then he suggested - "Flip why don't you be so kind to drive these nice young ladies back to their lodging"

Yvonne, finally able to get Holly up and moving refused the offer and then quick stepped into the night and out of our lives.

With blood still oozing, a mouth full of food and a half-dried drip of gore hanging off his chin Denny said - "I can't believe she called us rednecks"
"She was talking about you, you fighting, fucking redneck grit " I informed him. Moving over to inspect Denny's injuries, Claudia asked for a first-aid kit.
"It's right there" Whitey responded, pointing at the rum. In the mean time Flip produced our real first-aid kit. Inside she found cotton balls and rubbing alcohol then proceeded to tend Denny's battered face.

Wincing a bit from the alcohol's sting, Denny asked if I could pour him a cup of rum, which I complied - "Shit man, you're a fucking mess, it looks like R.W. was getting the best of you"
"Yeah, that's why Bear had to pull me off of him" Denny returned, taking the cup from my hand.
"See !" Whitey said to Bear - "We should of let em go and kept the bets running"
"I won that hand" The Bear reminded him, besides you folded after I made my wager. Or would you rather want to settle-up with a twenty spot ?" Whitey quickly confirmed all bets had been off before the fight started.

Noticing Claudia fuss over Denny’s bumps, bruises and cuts, a face that was by now use to such punishment, I mused - 'At least she's got her mind off me now' Denny seemed to enjoy all the attention, making me wonder if he was on the menu.

Remembering something important I walked over to the Dibble's tent where R.W. lay, out before the count.

By his breathing I could tell he lived, but was out cold. Bear could of broke his neck or fractured R.W.'s skull, but he let the Dibble off light with an early goodnight and deep dreamless sleep. Half inside the tent I flicked my Bic for a little light. Being somewhat thin-skinned R.W. had already the beginnings of two good shiners.
"That'll keep the decent girls at a distance" I told him, but he heard me not. Reaching down I slipped my SharpFinger from his belt and bid him - "Nighty night sleeping beauty"
Zipping up the door flap, I stood beside Dibble's tent, beyond fire and lantern light taking stock of the situation. I couldn't vouch for R.W.'s jaw, but at least he'd awake in this world perhaps sometime tomorrow whether he wanted to or not. As usual there would be little ill feelings between Dibbles the next day. Their fights rarely lasted more than a day. Yet I thought it best to take the knife. With food in my belly and not neck deep in the cup, I had much more vigor along with a sense of freedom and lightness of limb not felt since my teenage years. It was as if I'd been released from a black talon grip and clear light shined through the shadowy gloom, but I was far from well.

With swollen eye, lips and various other contusions, Denny still managed to consume three pork chops and a pile of potatos as our departed guest had left almost full plates. Although he was about as lean as a hard Winter, Denny could out-eat Bear. Aside from his battered condition this Dibble was almost back to normal. Claudia had did a fine job of cleaning up his hurts. Raising his cup to Bear, he spoke - "Thanks for pulling me off R.W., before I could really fuck him up"
"Not a problem" Bear returned with a raised horn.
Denny went on to ask - "But did you have to sling me into that tree ? Shit man, that hurt worse than R.W.'s punches"
"Sorry " Bear offered - "Next time I'll try to pitch you into a soft leaf pile, if there be one nearby"
Pulling a fresh deck from his denim pocket, The Great Bear wanted to know if there was anybody for some Poker.

Spending my remaining wakeful hours playing cards and losing all my coin, I remembered how the cards loved me not when I was not drinking. Leaving last pennies in the pot I sat another bad hand on the table and wished everyone a good night. I would need to be well rested on the morrow.

Climbing into the tent and pulling off my shoes, I was asleep in no time, drifting about in dreams of strange lakes reflecting rugged shores and a weird violet hued sky..

[Atehequa]

18 - Sherando Lake


Charlie and Denny were storing the last of our gear, while I scooped ash and half-burned hunks of green wood from our fire pit at Sherando Lake Campground and Recreational Area.

We had pushed on all the way down Skyline Drive, until getting off at Afton for gas and other items. Traveling about fifty miles as the Hawk flies, our journey up and down a twisting mountain road at the 35MPH speed limit the ride lasted about two hours. We continued a short ways down The Blue Ridge Parkway, then turned, descending down a steep and narrow mountain lane into a good-sized hollow or creek valley. In short time we picked out two fine campsites and had about everything set-up in good order. We chose not to have banners waving in the wind.

Flip and Whitey were on a supply run up in Waynesboro. Awaiting their return and after a late lunch I had plans of getting a fishing party together to see what's biting down at the lake. Hopefully we could tag up on a few nice rainbows. A couple of us were ready to cast lines right now, but I held them back until late afternoon. Tomorrow we would hike Torry Ridge or beyond. Bear appeared to be in excellent spirits, enjoying a horn of beer and engaged with Patti over a checker game. Charlie was half drunk but at least awake. All of us who ever camped, fished, hiked or visited Sherando loved the place. A lot closer to supermarkets and liquor store Sherando Lake had long been one of our favorite camping spots. We knew the flora, fauna, trails, streams and overall layout of the area. Never had we ran afoul of neighboring campers or park rangers and on more than one occasion had them both sitting down and sharing our cooking.

We had picked a fine place to set-up camp, well shaded with a partial view of the lake.

The Bear had camped here as a child with his parents. Years ago while Bear and I were looking for a new camping spot near Waynesboro he decided on re-visiting Sherando. Needless to say some of us would head up here for many fine weekends from early Spring to Autumn. In those days it was kind of rough and wild there, but the fine staff provided a small, yet decent camp store along with maintaining facilities. Always clean and well kept, we had no complaints . We heard news that very soon Sherando Lake would be turned into a more modern camping and recreational area, with a swimming beach, paved roads, electrical RV hook-ups, cabins and a visitor center. What it would be losing was peacefulness, boat rental, good fishing, camp store and a lot of it's natural charm. A people such as us may not feel so much at home camping in a place like that. There are many miles of mountains. There would be other new places to camp.
As I said, we never experienced any problems here other than wet weather or hungry bears coming around because somebody left food out.

There was a sense of security and comfort here at Sherando.

Who could blame the fellows for wanting to get in a bit a fishing before lunch ? In those days both upper and lower lakes were well stocked with rainbows and bass, while down at Back Creek, one of the feeder streams which flow into the Shenandoah River there were red-eye rock bass, more rainbows and some decent native brook trout. My mouth watered and stomach growled at the thought of a fish dinner. I offered to burn a bone while we waited for supplies to come in. With the exception of Bear, everyone took me up on this. I twisted up a fat one, lit it, hit it, then passed it to R.W. who appeared worse for wear. With his two black eyes he looked like a raccoon with a swollen jaw. Taking the bone from R.W., Denny appeared in slightly better condition despite his massive shiner, fat lip and multiple contusions. For these brothers involved in last night's fracas, all ill feelings had slipped under the bridge and flowed downstream until next time, which hopefully would not occur during our remaining vacationing days here at Sherando.
The Whoodee had lifted spirits, perked up smiles and made our scenic surroundings much more colorfully alive. 'Just may end up staying here Saturday night as well' I thought, looking at the sunlight shimmer off lake water. Charlie and Denny were already in their tackle boxes checking lures, leaders, hooks and split shot weights. I'd thought about getting my fly rod ready, but decided on a ultra-light spin caster instead. Like them I was eager for some upland angling. We all knew if artificial bait failed, the camp store sold night crawlers and red wigglers. Just down the road apiece the Sherando grocery sold tackle and bait crickets. With any luck I may just find some recently molted soft shell crayfish underneath a rock to hook up for some excellent bait.

All heads turned as we heard the sound of tires turning dirt and gravel.

Flip and Whitey had returned from Waynesboro with enough supplies, if rationed correctly would see us through until our departure. Whitey came back with enough beer to swim in as the camp store sold no alcoholic beverages.
"That swill should last until dinner unless it kills you beforehand" I stated while watching him guzzle down an entire can.
"Use a cup, you know the rules !" Bear ordered, pushing a mug his way. For Whitey these trips were not but drunken binges. Not that anything was wrong with excessive guzzling, but he could of stayed at home, got slammed and miss out on trout fishing just the same. Even in a drunken state, Charlie was ready to cast a line and often out fished us.
Myself ? I never got drunk and fished. It compromised my fishing medicine. Enough time for quaffing after the catch when trout was at the end of a fork instead of on the line.

Wednesday's lunch consisted of grilled hamburgers, potato salad and chips. Having little to no breakfast due to our flight from Big Meadows, we were all famished. Charlie even managed to get a burger down.

With bellies full and rods in hand, Charlie, Denny, Flip, R.W. and I made our way down to the lake.
On maps and signs this body of water is called a lake, yet was naught but a good-sized pond, dammed off a stream. Before casting out I couldn't help but take in the spectacular scenery. The pond's glassy surface reflected perfectly all around and above. Looking across the water I marveled at the mirror image of lofty Torry Ridge looming past Sherando Lake’s earthen dam.
Lace-winged insects danced above still waters and newts crawled about in the shore-side shallows.
Sherando gave up scant catch, an under-sized bass, two small bluegills and a pumpkinseed. They were all set free to grow bigger and wiser.
We had better luck after picking up some worms and hitting a section of Back Creek that ran right by the campground. There we caught six keeper rainbows and two small brookies, which were released as it was our custom to let brook trout go. Charlie had found a deep bend in the stream and snagged up on four eating-size red-eye rock bass. They sparkled like living emeralds, thrashing around on Charlie's stringer.
"Fish dinner tonight, boys !" R.W. gleefully proclaimed.
Wishing to myself -'Oh if we only had a pile of morels and ramps for the skillet'

Arriving back at camp we surrendered our combined catch to R.W. as he was the band's fish frying expert. At one time he cooked at the Colonial Williamsburg Inn, and fish was one of R.W.'s specialties.
Bear, Flip and Whitey were not big on fish so that meant more for the rest of us.

R.W. set about the task of gutting, cleaning and preparing today's catch, to be put on ice until supper.

As bottles opened and pull-tabs popped, I filled a tall ceramic mug with cold amber-hued ale. Quaffing deeply, I felt a certain amount of ease here at our small encampment by Sherando Lake. Here was more familiar ground. We saw nothing more out of place than a young couple, obviously lacking in camping experience, having way too much difficulty setting up their simple dome tent. Flip, always neighborly and well learned in Camping Craft, took it upon himself to lend the greenhorns a hand. He more or less set up the tent by himself. He very much prided himself on these abilities.
"You're a good man, Flip " I complemented the Birdman as he ambled back to our table - "Accounts of your deeds shall be told at Night around Campfires for years to come"

Patti expressed how much she liked it here, among friends and added - "Too bad Claudia, Mildred and Guy got mixed up on our changed camping locations"
"Yeah, too bad" I returned, hoping to move past our Big Meadows experience.

Seeing that Patti was getting along so good with Claudia, Bear had told our little raven-haired sprite a small fib - “Our former neighbors must of got confused on locations and became separated from us” In all actuality we gave them the slip while Guy was gassing up his station wagon at the Big Meadows camp store this morning.
"You didn't notice anything weird about those folk" Flip asked, before ripping open a bag of bugles.
Patti reflected a little and replied - "The only strange thing I noticed was that Claudia started to look younger than me, especially this morning after crawling out of the sack"
Whitey stated - "She seemed to go from 60 to 25 in just a few nights"
"Like a cactus bloom after the rains" Denny responded with a troubled look in his eyes.
Patti turned to The Great Bear for an explanation. Draining his drinking horn, he belched, cleared his throat and motioned Patti to move closer.
Lighting up a cigarette, Bear regarded Patti with serious grey eyes and said - "I honestly believe that Claudia was of a different kind"
Patti helped herself to a long draught off my ale mug then asked - "What kind is that?"
Bear sighed and replied - "A soul eating sorceress of some type"
"What ?"
Not ever wanting to deal with a lot of questions, Bear managed to stay calm and continued - "A master of illusion who was steadily milking our essence"
"What about Mildred and Guy ?" She demanded wanting to know more of why we ditched our former neighbors and guests.
"Familiars or servants if you will" I returned then gave her a brief account of what occurred yesterday evening at the outcropping. - "I suspect the reason we saw so little of Mildred and Guy was because keeping them in seemingly normal human guise, proved to be a big drain on Claudia's power"
"They may of been human once" The Great Bear stated
"Aye" I agreed - "Just another frightful aspect in the being of these creatures, I've heard tell that if a person succumbs to such critters, what’s left of his or her misfortunate soul becomes a slave to it"
Flip added - "They eat souls and enslave ghosts"
"Even their playful nibbling can infect and doom" I informed our band. With that we all quaffed deeply and looked at each other in a troubled way.
Patti appeared to have difficulty understanding this explanation.
"Well I guess y'all are fucked !" Whitey said pointing first towards Denny, then at Charlie before cutting his eyes at me.
"How so with Denny ?" I asked, probably already knowing the answer.
"He nailed her in the bed of Bear's truck about two hours after you crashed-out"
"Oh shit" I responded, shaking my head.
Denny bluntly offered a scant explanation - "After another few cups of rum, and a Whoodee, she rubbed me into a boner underneath the table, so we moved it under Bear's camper shell"
"Fool !" Flip exclaimed - "I tried to warn you !"
"Warn me ?"
"Yeah, warn you !"
"When ?"
"Last night, before you guys bedded down, when she was nibbling your neck, you fucking horn dog !"
"How did you go about in warning me, Flippy ?"
"You didn't take notice of the danger signal ?" The Birdman asked repeating a hand motion similar to someone dispersing a bad odor.
"Fuck man, I thought you were swatting at a bug" Denny replied.
Pulling out the ointment still contained in an old cigarette pack and then raising my shirt, displaying a faintly stained navel I reminded him - "And you were not protected"
"That shit again !" Whitey said, rolling his eyes.
"That shit kept most of my soul from being sucked out through the center while I slept beside that critter “
Seeing the worried look in Denny’s eyes, I could relate to his lack of precaution while cursing not only my own and that of the others. At Big Meadows we should of shooed Claudia away at the first sign of weirdness, but were either quite taken with her, or else bewitched.

"Let's just be glad we shook them" Bear growled, wanting to savor the rest of his vacation.
.
Casting another glance at Charlie, I became worried as he did not appear well.
'Drunken dolt' I thought, but could not hold him responsible for tagging Claudia those first two nights following her arrival. Hell, I was only an insert away from the old double-hump and side-swoop myself, even after suspecting her as such.
Having a knowledge concerning the almost forgotten history of such devils or creatures, Denny should of known better. He seemed extremely troubled and quaffed deeply in his regret. Like most people I knew, Denny had his weakness. The drink, chasing skirts and not ever applying himself enough to ever finish many things he had started. Besides that, Denny was intelligent and master of a few good trades where he could demand and usually get top pay. Interesting conversation with him was always refreshing especially, after a day of hanging with Charlie or Whitey. Yet the more he drank, the more his conversations became garbled and drifty. Denny poured a good measure of rum, raised his head as in preparation of answering a question he was sure to come. The Great Bear cursed under his breath knowing this matter needed to be talked-out a bit more. Perhaps afterwards we could all carry on with this celebration that was becoming more meaningless by the hour. Usually by this time of night Charlie would be pestering Flip to no end, but for the most part he quietly drank and listened the words of others, offering scant response or humorous antidotes. Whitey, looped out on cheap beer and Whoodee, could always be counted on to argue upon matters he knew very little about. Patti, seemed rather bothered, yet curious enough to request more of an explanation of why we had to shake off Claudia, Mildred and Guy in such a dishonestly rude manner.
"Not of our kind, ? So what is she, what the hell happened ?" She demanded then went on to say - " I know you Lynnhaven boys are a little weird, but I've never seen you guys so freaked-out" Patti took a good slug of rum then looked at each of us as if offering invitation to anyone who would shed a little light and answer her question -
"So what do you think she is ?"
In a grim tone Denny responded - "They are all but gone, only a stir in the breeze, but those who have survived mankind grow powerful in small numbers or as individuals"
"Who ?" Patti asked.
Denny dark eyes focused upon the dancing girl and replied in a clear, steady voice - "A type of advanced human-like beings. They roamed and ruled the world long before the first ape-like sub-humans ever thought about dropping off a low tree limb and lope awkwardly across a forest glade" Denny held all our attention now, even Whitey had cocked an ear no doubt hoping to enjoy campfire entertainment. Denny had a slug of rum and continued - "Always have the homo sapiens been either in servitude or at war with the old ones, for over a hundred thousand years we have felt their yoke or in some cases the crunch of their misshapen skulls, especially after we found out they can be slain. At first these creatures either enslaved or extracted a terrible toll of human death and hurtful suffering" Denny poured another drink and went on - "Enduring countless centuries of bleak co-habitation with these creatures as slaves, sport, prey and often foot soldiers caught up between feuding old ones, humans came to learn that these beings had certain weaknesses. In time the prey became predators, and the slaves became masters, or so they thought. Over time humans became apt in making war upon the old ones all the while having little knowledge that many of their war chiefs or warrior kings were naught but the hybrid bastard offspring of those they bore arms against. Oh how these bastard children hated their parents who had abandoned them among human relations. An age old woe and struggle, even now when they are all but gone" Denny drained his cup and added - "They who remain have either been driven to lonely hinterland places or else have attained high and secure standings among unsuspecting humans"
"They have been bred out in many places as well" I informed our band.
"True" Denny agreed and went on to say - "And their traits live on either heavy or slight in so many people today, yet the old pure bloods still walk among us in human guise"
"Claudia ?" Patti asked.
Having a good quaff of ale, I answered - " An advanced human-like creature, or else the daughter or grandchild of one. Either turned out of some ancient clan or circle,,,"
Denny cut me short - "Or still part of some ancient clan or circle and out for some hunting sport and quarry"
"At least she admired her prey" Charlie stated in an almost hollow tone.
"Oh she admired the fact we were so tolerant of her presence and readily available to feed off of" I replied.
"Well you were kind of tolerant and wrapped up with her for awhile, Jim" Whitey said - "Hell man, you sacked down with her too"
"Yeah, but I didn't screw her"
Flip, sometimes not the gentleman added - "She has nice knockers"
"Yes she does" I agreed, but that could of been an illusion"
"They felt real enough to me" Charlie informed us.
"A case of prey admiring the hunter" Denny stated.
Patti attempted to raise some much needed cheer, lifted her cup and proclaimed - "At least we're all alive"
"Are we ?" Denny asked, then turned his eyes to our fire - "For so long they have had time to become masters of deception, but cannot fool all of us, all the time, but now I sit here talking to you, knowing I've been fooled"
"We all were, and still may be" Flip said, hitting on a clipped roach.

From the other side of the lake an owl hooted and a low breeze blew upon our legs.

This low cool wind continued to stir both dust and nerve. Yet our fire blazed in a whirling dance and at that point in time was the only thing we could count on besides ourselves.

"As we continue to be" I said watching Whitey slip the sheathed Bowie onto his belt.
Bear issued a rumbling growl, sitting his horn down, he uncorked the rum, took a sizable swig and proclaimed - " But we are not the kind of fools who are easily fooled, and that itself is a mystery as to why something like that would consider us easy game !"
Curious to know what he was getting at I asked -"How mean you Bear ?"
Handing me the bottle to conceal until further needed, he then chased down the hard drink with a gulp of German Beer and replied - "This time of year, when most normal vacation campers are back at home or jobs and kids starting off the school year, these campgrounds become host to a good number of festive folk like us"
"Ahhh, a time of celebration, good cheer, low traffic trails and un-crowded fishing holes" I returned.
"A lot of party people tenting from The Meadows of Dan to all the way up to Mathews Arm" Flip added.
The Great Bear nodded his head and said - "Exactly, the state and federal campgrounds now have to put up with a wide variety of revelers like us, taking advantage of seasonal rates and looking to enjoy some elbow room"

The Great Bear went on - "A lot more easier prey than us sitting around fires and swilling swilling booze"
"Really ?" Denny asked, then went on to say - "We were foolish enough"
The Bear cut his eyes at Denny - "How so ?"
"Either forgetting of these creature's existence or so secure in our thoughts believing they have long been defeated or killed off, humans have grown soft and become over confident. With so little memory of just how crafty and terribly real these old ones are, we have made them mythical or the stuff of fantasy books. But as they continue to prey off of humans there will always be those who are wary enough to either flee or fight. In our case we may of fled too late" Denny paused and looked up at Flip's tarp wavering in the breeze.
"I believe she knew we were on to her our last day and night at Big Meadows"
"Before that !" I snarled.
"Well she knew from the start we were not the average raising hell party campers like those goobers we saw setting up tents over by Sherando’s restrooms and showers"
"Not the average campers indeed" Denny commented and then went on - "Yet more and more the fiends hunt and are ever out for bigger game"
"Like us ?" Whitey asked including our band with a sweep of his arms and eyes rolling.
"We were either just good sport or else a meal for this huntress" I replied.
"Certainly not big game" Denny added and continued - "They are forever incorporating themselves with and climbing to high places in government, big business, mainstream media, entertainment and religion along with most other aspects of human life. The pure old ones stay behind the scenes directing many of their bastard offspring in the management of a lot of human affairs. Some of these bastards are world leaders, corporate CEOs and religious mouthpieces. With all their arcane knowledge and in pleasant human guise, the hybrids can get a foot in the door of anywhere they want. These hybrids are usually welcomed with opened arms, greatly admired, helpful and charming in the beginning, but in time, rule by deception and through fear. They are powerful enough to enchant and bewitch at will with little trouble. They are powerful enough even, to cloud the minds of the suspecting"
"That's why we had to give them the slip, up on the Skyline Drive" I added.
"Are you sure about that Jim ?" Denny asked.
Recalling my account, Bear reminded me of what I described which occurred at that rock outcropping - "She could of changed into an owl or else have such birds or others in service as spies and messengers"
Whitey popped open another bud and laughed - "You crazy fuckers have been watching too many science fiction movies or else have smoked yourselves silly"
"They eat souls" Flip grimly said.

Suddenly there was a loud banging. It was Bear pounding the end of his walking stick against a cooler - "Enough talk of troubling matters, she's probably down at Fort Valley sizing things up, a lot of party people camping there this time of year. Let her feed off them, while we hole-up here at Sherando. So lets leave her behind and move on. We need not fret over yesterday's mistakes"

"Then you better sleep with that cleaver near" I advised him, then went on to say - "Ahhh, but for now there is dinner to look forward to and afterwards we'll happily drown any lingering fears and regrets” I raised a toast - "Camp Sherando !"
We decided to make no further mention of what was strangely encountered at
Big Meadows..

[Atehequa]

19 - Something is out there




We ate good that night and all was seemingly settling in a good way. Pan fried trout, bock bass, sweet roasted corn on the cob, raw spinach salad and camp bread piled on paper plates. Flip Bear and Whitey opted for left over Atomic Sausages and hamburgers. Charlie surprised us all by scarfing down three rock bass, two trout and two ears of corn, but he did not seem quite his old self. Still it seemed, he was mending. Flip was tinkering with the boom box dial. Pausing at a soft rock station out of Lynchburg we listen to a Bread song until Whitey, now pretty much lit-up threatened to smash the radio unless Flip found some decent music. The radio waves being somewhat abundant that night we tolerated 'college music' from Blacksburg for awhile. Having enough of that, Flip located a classic rock station coming out of Roanoke.
Denny and R.W. sat side by side feasting upon fine camp victuals. Bruised and battered as they were, both portrayed a golden image of brotherhood rather than last night's two male bobcats savagely battling over a mate. However with each downed cup of spirits they focused more attention on Patti.

Hitting my secret stash I pulled out a bottle of Irish whisky to go with the rum and ale.
"What ya got there Jim ?" R.W. asked
"None of your fucking business. It's mine"
"Aww, come on man"
"Whisky" I replied - "Get your mind off it"
Charlie showed great interest as well - "Hey Skid, let me have a pull off that bottle"
I uncorked the bottle, there was a sound as the aged whisky gasped to breath air again. I had procured these fine imported spirits from a William and Mary student/neighbor of mine as a wedding present. He always had a line on imported goods such as liquor, food items, books, trinkets and Whoodee from different parts of the world.
Pouring a good measure of the heady drink, I swirled it in my cup before draining the contents. "Woooooooweeeee !"
Passing the jug first to Charlie - "Here, since you're kin and all"
Putting a good bit in his cup, he threw it down as well - "Daayaaam ! Where'd ya get this?”
"Personal connections" I replied, pouring myself another. Holding their cups out like third world beggars, I felt compelled to fill Denny's, Flip's, R.W.'s and Patti's cup as well. In this generous mood I offered some of this elixir to Bear and Whitey. They both declined, but Bear did give me a rain check. Charlie's cup was out again. Fixing him up I suggested he should go easy on the stuff.

After everyone was through eating, we cleaned up very well as Sherando was known for it's nocturnal bear visits. With that out of the way we fell into our routine of festive celebration.
The drink flowed, music played, smoking circles were joyfully attended, jesting abounded and general mirthful revelry seemed to prevail. Patti with a head full of grass and pretty much on her way to being slammed, once again pressed Denny or anybody else, to go further in depth describing the old ones.
"Fuck that shit !" Whitey snarled - "No more than childish superstitions ! Vampires, ghouls and boogiemen. Ha! Tales to frighten kids into being good, that's all"
"No more for now" The Great Bear added - "Speak of a devil too many times and it will appear"
Flip, half drunk himself agreed - "Invoke them not"
Despite all his bold talk I could not help but notice a bit of fear in Whitey's eyes and that huge fucking hunting knife hanging from his belt.

The Khyber blade hung from my belt as well, although I couldn't remember slipping it on.

Armed as we were and hopefully miles and mountains away from our former neighbors, I could not help but ponder upon the age of the one calling herself Claudia along with how many victims she had drained to naught but dry soulless, lifeless hulls. Did she feed constantly, or gorge herself on a large meal, then slink off to a dark hidden somewhere to coil-up for awhile and digest ? Was she able to satisfy that hunger or slake her thirst back at Big Meadows, or bound to finish us off ? I thought about Denny's earlier words concerning humankind's wars and strife with such creatures. I tapped my knife handle somewhat comforted in knowing that although such beings are powerful, they are not invulnerable or un-killable. Getting the jump on such a being would be no easy matter. 'Claudia' like the rest of it's kind are shielded by darksome powers that have enabled and served well as they have survived all the way up to the 20th century. Bear was correct in saying decapitation and burning is the way to go, but there were other methods as well. Now both free of such and somewhat hip, we would no longer be a willing human smorgasbord.

Flip, closely scanned a trail map. We had planned to hike the Torry Ridge trail, but now there was talk of exploring other area traces. We were eager to get out in some wild places where there were no teams of backwoods law enforcement officials lying in wait or poking around.
The Great Bear pretended to show no interest in our planning. He tugged at his beard and would have to be content hanging around camp. We could tell though he really wanted to get out in the deep woods. Parts broken, ripped-open and jabbed a few times, he always mended back well. Bear had survived and healed from hurts that would kill two normal men at once. It troubled me somewhat to see him in such a stationary state of being, but damn glad to have him as a home guard while the rest of us went to and fro. Fetching him one of my ales for a change of taste, I told him there would be other camping trips - "You'll be up and about, walking and talking shit by this coming Spring. Just don't be kicking in any bar windows twixt then and now"
"Oh yeah, this Spring" The Bear smiled, then gulped down half an ale - "Bigger hills"
For early May we had laid plans to cross the very ancient New River, north flowing with many rapids and falls, it was one of the oldest rivers in the world. West of Galax we would go into the Iron Mountains otherwise known as Mount Rogers Recreational Area. The highest ground in Virginia, surely in those Iron Mountains we would have to put a bit more effort in catching up to the elevation. But that was a good seven months away and for now our party were high enough in the Eastern Appalachians.
"I'll stay here with you Bear" Patti lent him comfort -"We could go down and sit by the lake tomorrow"
"Oh no, you go out in run around in the woods with the boys, have fun, don't fret over me,, I just may take a drive down the parkway tomorrow, check out some overlooks and gift shops"
Charlie and Denny both opted to go with him. The Great Bear slowly rose, lifted his horn high and declared - "So much for a tomorrow that isn't even here yet. Tonight we celebrate !"
Howls and hurrahs burst from our lips as we raised cups to return cheer. Tonight I would allow myself a good many quaffs to chase away a sigh of relief and re-establish that light easy feeling.
Although hopefully we were miles and mountains away from our former neighbors, an air of uncertainty hung over the camp at Sherando. I pondered whether this creature had forgotten about us and moved on to bigger game, or else was extremely pissed because we had slipped off her plate. My hopes were Claudia-n-company took a liking to Fort Valley and were now sitting up their web there. Taking a look around it seemed to me everybody was lacking something. - “Come now, this is not a night for grim thoughts and glum faces. Let us pass the pipe !"
All the others with the exception of Bear and Denny made way to our smoke lodge, entering one at a time. Following them all slowly I had to pull my eyes away from Patti's backside as Denny tugged upon my shirt in passing. Halting, then looking down I saw his usual dark face was somewhat pale. His dark eyes were fearfully serious. I strained ears to listen as he warned - "Something is out there,, I can feel it"
"How do ye say ? What's out there ?"
"Who can say, but I feel like a mouse at night, in an open field"
"I know the feeling, but we should be safe enough here. I doubt they have a clue that this place exists. If so we'll just have to close ranks" I patted his shoulder and assured him of a future uncertain, then went to take my place inside the smoking lodge.

Already dimly illuminated by a battery operated lantern, Flip was in the process of packing a bowl. Finishing this small task a bit too slow for my liking, I smiled and said - "How generous of you to go this one, Flip. Think I'll be the last one in late more often" With a flick of my lighter, I lent him flame. The long stemmed ceremonial pipe went around three times, but that wasn't all. Coming to me, I cleaned the spent ash out, reloaded it and sent it around for three more. Instead of leaving right away, we sat in a circle engaging each other with a fair amount of Whoodee induced gibberish. Even Charlie was up for a bit of monkey-shining, sticking the small lantern up to his chin and entertaining us with a Boris Karloff impression.
Stoned out of her pretty little head, Patti got a little sad-eyed for a short while and made mention of how she wished Claudia was here to share in the fun. Putting the pipe and gear away I offered her a mirthless laugh - "But there's so many other things out there slithering in the dark to pal-up with"

The last in and the last out, I followed my comrades through open door flaps. Halting short of our table like all of the others I was surprised to see two strangers in our camp. Bear broke the tension by once again rising then initiating introductions - "Patti, R.W., Whitey, Jim, Flip, Charlie, this is Kim and Bryon from down the way"
"We met already" Flip said, extending his hand to Bryon. We all shook hands and offered them refreshment. Denny closely studied them for anything abnormal as did I. It was a shame to have to be on guard when dealing with fellow campers who were probably not soul sucking changelings. They accepted some beer and we went on to find out Kim and Bryon were out of Virginia Beach. Both employed at a hotel at the strip, they decided to spend a few nights at Sherando. Up until now neither had ever been camping or up in the Blue Ridge. Bryon was short, somewhat corpulent, dark of wavy hair and a bit too slue-eyed for my liking. He was somewhat nervous and even more so after Patti jokingly winked at, then blew him a kiss. He took tiny little sips off his beer. 'doubtful that one could adapt to our ways' I thought.
Kim was kind of cute in a mousy sort of way. She was taller than Bryon, but not by much. One would expect someone from the beach to be quite tan, but like Bryon, she was rather pale. With a delicate face, set off by pretty light brown eyes behind a pair of oval-shaped black frame glasses and a strange pageboy hairstyle, she sure seemed to float Flip's boat as he ogled her up then down. I could never make up excuses for heathen behavior.
Both were clad in brightly colored beach garb and talked very little. Bryon remained a little stand-offish, While Kim seemed neither fearful of, or put off by our crude mannerisms and seemed to be enjoying her beverage more so than Bryon.
"Bryon here, needs to borrow a lighter or some matches to get a fire started" The Great Bear informed us.
With a high gurgling voice Bryon stated - "We had some matches, but they didn't work" He produced an old pack of hotel matches. Seeing their hotel logo on the pack Whitey exclaimed - "Me and my cousin Tiny stayed there last,,,," but cut himself short remembering that Tiny had checked in with a fake ID and later in a fit of drunken rage concerning something or another they savagely rampaged about the suite, tearing it apart like whacked-out, big name rock stars, barely escaping the police with whole skin in the pre-dawn of a Sunday morning. - "Last year in high school many moons ago" Whitey lied knowing this incident took place two months ago - "Have not been back since" He added for good measure.
Flip gave Bryon a brand new lighter and asked how they were on wood.
"We don't have any wood" Bryon said with a goofy half-smile.
Whitey shook his head and inquired with a bark of laughter - "Well how in the hell do you expect to make a fire without firewood ?"
Maybe it was just now dawning upon Charlie's scrambled brain that Kim and Bryon were out of Virginia Beach, when he asked - "Ever heard of the Peppermint Beach Club ? Ever go there ?" They both shook their heads no. Finishing their beers, Flip was kind enough to fill Bryon's arms with firewood and Kim's arms with scrap-cut pine kindling then offered to help them with their fire. But Bryon politely refused Flip's assistance after thanking him. We offered them no Whoodee as these were the years of just saying no. It was hard to trust anybody then a time when undercover cops, snitches and a wide array of patriotic citizens would turn in a harmless silly Whoodee heads for a sticky pat on the back.

They bid us a good night, took their gifts and left.

"Odd, they never heard of the Peppermint" Charlie said once they were surely out of earshot. Odd indeed as the Peppermint Beach Club is a well known night time beach attraction.
"Maybe they're from another state and new to Virginia" Patti said while pouring herself an ale. True, many Northerners were migrating south to the Old Dominion and both had not a trace of a Virginia accent.
Always the Yankee hater Whitey spat - "Fucking come-heres"
"Whoever they are, hopefully neither one of them had an inkling to what we all were doing in the tent" I stated.
Bear issued a mighty belch then informed us - "I tried to give y'all a shout-out when they came in, but y'all were howling like lost souls at the time" He continued - "Just some greenhorns who probably never camped or encountered folk like us before, that's all"
"We should keep an eye on them anyway" I said knowing narcs and snitches come in all types, but there were other concerns as well.

The lofty ridges of dark wooded mountains closed about Sherando Lake like giant sentinels. I always liked the way an upland horizon played against a starry sky. The still night air grew cooler with no breeze blowing off the lake. Behind our encampment loomed Torry Ridge which shaded our days and shadowed our nights. Covering both lake and shore was a layer of low fog or mist obscuring the bright boathouse light into a faint glow. In the distance a fox cried out suddenly causing night roosting birds to rustle about in the tangled branches of a neighboring thicket. There was something very ancient about this place which before dam and campground was a large mountain hollow with a stream running through. I had camped here often but did not feel the same sense of security now as those other times. Tonight something didn't feel quite right about this place. We sat around our table sharing what there was of good cheer. However there was not enough to keep me lively as the combination of supper, spirits and smoke had packed a wallop. My eyes became heavy and sleep courted my brain despite the hour. Rising, I bid my companions a yawning goodnight, staggered off into the brush to piss, came back and crawled into the tent. As I fumbled to locate our battery powered lantern Whitey's voice hissed through tent fabric - "Fucking lightweight" With a little light I was able to pull off shoes and store my belongings before stretching out. I returned to Whitey no words as my foam pad and sleeping bag felt more comfortable than the finest of hotel beds. Words and laughter tinged together into a droning hum.

Turning off the lantern I lay with eyes almost closed as dim firelight came through tent fabric. Closing my eyes for what seemed a few minutes I opened them again after hearing a strange call in the night..

[Atehequa]

20 - Followed



Already ancient at the dawn of human kind
Long before man’s first mud brick wall
Ever ravenously hungry and of an evil mind
It watched great civilizations rise and fall

From the Zargos to the Appalachians it preyed
Residing in palaces, hovels, tents and holes
For it’s enchanting company, a price to be paid
So very many wasted lives and consumed souls

Eater of spirits, we now know of your kind
Bearing witness, our terrible ailing and dead
Those of us wounded you have left behind
Swiftly fleeing from our camp half-fed

Feasting upon peasants, travelers and great kings
Never too particular about it’s quarry
From rags to silks and life’s finer things
Recounted from memories for this campfire story

All was dark now. No more did fire light find it's way into the tent.

No more did the sound of revelry disturb the native night creatures. I was wide awake or so it seemed. It felt nothing like the lassitude which crept up on me earlier at our party table. But at the same time I did not feel normal. Turning the light on low as not to overly foul my night vision, I pulled on my shoes, slipped on my knife swiftly, neither caring or taking notice of Flip's sleeping place at the other side of his tent. Instead I turned off the lantern sat still for a minute and listened to leaves rustling along with a faint humming of some long forgotten melody. Moving silently as possible to tent's door, I slowly unzipped the flap as not to make too much sound while perhaps an old terror waited with ears cocked high.
Exiting the tent I halted just outside adjusting my eyes to a gloom like I'd never seen before. The table was empty and our fire had burned down to a few red glowing coals peeking through ash. 'Everyone's asleep' I thought realizing I'd been doing the same for awhile. I didn't even know exactly what time it was as my watch was inside and the night sky had a strange deep violet hue. Strange bright yellow stars winked from high above. "This is a dream" I whispered under my breath, then was aware of the humming again. It was drifting out of the underbrush and into our darkened camp. Dream or not the large Khyber knife seemed real enough as I tapped it's horn handle. The humming then ceased.
My eyes attempted to pierce shadows and a dark leafy tangle. I looked for any signs of movement. All was silent until a musical, yet mocking laughter burst forth out of the brush. Wasting no more time I moved over to our fire pit, gathered up a fair amount of kindling and dropped it on the burning coals. With a paper plate I fanned it into a small blaze, then went for the firewood. With an armful of walnut I heard -
" I can't in the world understand why anyone would be so rude"
I at once recognized the familiar voice and shouted - "Up with you all, it's coming into camp !" All the while not taking my eyes off the dark thick growth.
"They cannot hear you Jim"
"Flip ! Whitey ! Bear ! Get the fuck up !"
"Fool !" The voice laughed out as my shaking hands placed chunks of wood upon the blaze. Grabbing the poking stick I stuck one end of it into the growing blaze as well.
"Come to me" it said.
I did not oblige, but drew my knife instead.
"Come on Jim, I'm not mad at you"
I stayed by the fire and heard advancing movement in the growth.
"Oh well, guess I'll have to make the first move, you silly man"
"Keep back or die you devil !" I growled only to hear more mocking laughter as something moved towards me only slightly rustling leaves and branches. Moving out from my fire a few steps I caught a glimpse of fierce yellow eyes burning in the shadows and a shape moving through the brush. Backing up to the fire, I pulled out the poking stick and now had a flaming brand. Having about enough of this shit, with steel and fire I strode forth, but not far before halting to make a stand. I would either slay this creature or die in my camp.

It stepped out into the open not twenty feet away and halted. I could see her plainly enough by fire light and under a violet sky.

She was a splendid young creature, well formed and fine featured. Her only garment was a string of large beads hung with no great care around shapely hips. Decorating her well tanned body were serpent-like swirls and coils of paint which suggested the primitive. Her thick hair hung lose past her shoulders, framing a strangely beautiful face complemented by those exotic fiery eyes.
What stood before me was alluring to the point of temptation and fell folly. I took in every curve. Beautiful, yet at the same time as venomous as a cottonmouth. She flashed a lovely smile. Tossing back well rounded shoulders her breasts were thrust forward in a suggestive manner. She was shaped like a primitive goddess both well turned and beautiful, but powerful enough to have her own way in most matters. Her lips parted and she asked in a rich seductive voice - "Why fight it ?"
A strong lustful feeling shook my soul while hot blood raced through my veins, pounding fiercely at my temples. Uncontrollable passion flooded my whole being as I thought to drop blade and brand, take her in my arms to smother her with a fool's kisses.
"Take me" She said - "You know you want me"
Both arms went slack, hands barely grasping blade and brand I stood like a mouse in an open field at night. She cupped one hand down over her vagina then brought it forth making a circle in the air. A sweet musky scent riding on a un-natural breeze reached my nostrils. My head swam and good sense dipped, but a taunting laugh slicing through the night air was enough to jolt me out of enchantment. Ignoring blade and brand she advanced.
"Back it on up !" I warned thrusting the large blade towards her. Now at only a few yards away she stopped and regarded the long knife with some concern.
"You have to separate all that anger and fear from your true desires, dear Jim" She said with a toss of her hair.
"I'll separate your head from your shoulders if you come close enough" I returned, waving my brand into a brighter blaze.
"The fool you are ! Ha !"
"Try me you hose-bag !" I snarled, then went on to say " If it wasn't for your constant gluttony, you wouldn't be half bad for a little evening company, critter or not"
"Gluttony,, critter ?" She acted surprised.
"That's right, you're a fucking pig ! Call me rude will you ? A critter so low as to feed off good folk that welcomed and provided for her, especially with all the fat cats north and east of here. You are the rude one for tainting such good hospitality and shitting on hands extended in friendship !"
She became livid - "A fucking pig ?"
"A fucking gluttonous pig !" I screamed
"You see anything pig-like about me ?" She asked in no friendly tone with crossed arms and a hip thrust high.
"You wouldn't cut it for my last piece of ass, before dying a fool's death here at Sherando Lake " I returned, once again waving my glowing brand into flame.

"You are a fool !"

My words seemed to of un-hinged the huntress and a change swept over her.
Patches of her skin lightened while other places darkened forming noticeable strange patterned markings. Although still rather shapely, her body seemed less womanly soft. Mottled skin drawn tightly over muscles. Each of her finger and toes ended in dark talons. I shuddered upon looking at her inhumanly beautiful yet sinister face. As her lips parted I could not help but notice pointed canines or fangs. Aside from these physical changes it was her fiery baleful eyes that terrified me the most. Those eyes attempted to hold mine, but I was more concerned about the slightest twitch of body movement that could possibly betray a sudden rush.
“Play hard to get with me, will you ?” Her voice was still seductively sultry - “I’ll take you then”

And then it rushed in.

As she closed I side stepped and swung a terrific blow with the Khyber blade intended for it’s neck but was put off balance by a stone rolling under my foot. Striking the creature’s abdomen instead it felt like I had swung into an oak bole. That slash would of disemboweled a normal human, but had only left only a bleeding cut on the creature.
Regaining my balance I struck her head with the burning brand setting it’s wild flowing hair ablaze.
It’s horrifying scream ripped the night air. Not allowing this creature time to strike back, I aimed another knife slash at it’s neck only to strike an oak hard arm. A normal human arm would have been sheared clean off rather than the flesh wound the creature received.
With a sudden swing of that injured arm it knocked the fire brand from my hand. A swift back hand blow from the other sent me back off my feet and onto the ground.

Patting most of it’s burning hair out, the creature issued an inhuman hiss.

Inspecting it's gashed arm and long shallow cut across it's mottled torso, she then turned her burning eyes to me, glaring in a most hideous manner.
"You son of a bitch, I'll never be able to wear a two piece bathing suit again,,, I'm going to rip out your,,,"
Her words suddenly ceased and the creature jerked it's head to one side as if listening. It's eyes widened into twin balls of fire.
The creature hissed - "Later,, you can bet your ass" then turned and fled with hair still smoldering, up onto the wooded slopes of Torry Ridge.

Issuing a war cry I heaved myself up and gave pursuit. Through night's highland woods and up sloping inclines the chase led.

Something was crashing up through the underbrush ahead of me. I followed. Around and over outcroppings I ran and halted long enough to wipe blood from my eyes, catch my breath while hearing something moving up behind me.
'Mildred and Guy' I thought, but the sounds veered away from my position continuing up the slope. This was like no dream, or nightmare I'd ever had before as blood clotted up upon my opened eye brow and dried tight on my face. Never had I dreamt of my own bleeding.
Pushing off from the trunk I had rested on, my hunt continued. Recklessly I plowed upwards through a tangle of trees, underbrush, vines, creepers and brambles following the sounds of the creature's flight. Some distance up ahead of me I heard a frightful scream -

"Yah Lillah Ushnaah !"

Two more times this repeated then faded into distant crashing up through the brush. It was moving fast. Following it up the slope I was aware of my brush tattered condition, weary legs and that the first pale amethyst hued light of a strangely different dawn was stealing over the ridge.

It had to be a dream .

I raced on by dawn's dim light finally reaching the summit. Looking down at the rocky ground I saw drops and splatters of wine colored gore leading down the other side.
"Ha ! A blood trail !"
Descending from the top, following blood-spoor and broken branches I came to a large level area strewn with outcroppings and cut by washouts. This I traversed still following the trail of gore. Hearing no sound of flight ahead of me, I continued carefully and ready for rending claws at any time slashing out from behind the next Tree or rock. However the blood-spoor continued onto a down a Deer path.

The creature was bleeding every step of the way.

Following down the game trail for some time I heard the sound of moving water and came upon it's source. I dropped down into a broad stream bottom that was walled in by steep wooded inclines and traversed by a swift moving run of clear upland water. It cascaded gently down hill and both bank and bottom were clear of any underbrush providing no cover for a sudden ambush. Beside this stream I followed the creature's blood trail and foot prints pressed into wet exposed soil. Both dirt and wild grass were splattered with blood. This trail of gore stopped at water's edge. Above me on the rise I heard movement along with a familiar nasal whine-like call and caught a glimpse of two small figures racing along the top in a blur of speed.

'The twins !'

At first thinking it had took to wading either up or down stream, I looked across the run and saw water and gore splashed upon some rocks. It had crossed here and so would I.
This critter had to be caught and destroyed or else it would continue to feed off of humankind. It had feasted upon our essence, tracked us to Sherando and attempted to either breed with me, or have me for an early breakfast, or both. Now equally strange beings were hunting it as well. So they followed her following us. Perhaps this was a savage drama that had spanned countless ages. Even if they beat me to the kill, I would at least count coup on the creature's dead body, knowing a wound or more was my doing. It gave me a parting threat back at camp and I would see it dead either by my hand or someone else's. I was about done in after running over a mountain and down the other side and knew full well my limits were strained. Still I went on.
Continuing down my side of the run I looked for a good fording place and found one. A bathtub-sized rock sat in the middle of the water offering a good jump across point. Chancing a glance down the open trace, I was amazed to see two smallish pale-skin, white haired, black-clad figures leap from the heights, land on the grassy bottom land and race swiftly downward out of my field of vision.
"Creatures chasing creatures !" I shouted, then laughed at the madness of it all, before leaping.
Instead of landing soundly upon the large rock at midstream, my foot hit a patch of slimy algae that I failed to noticed. I went down like a sack of potatoes striking my head on stone before landing with a splash in the cold stream. Wet and dizzy I rose and waded knee deep to the opposite bank. Taking up the chase I staggered on about two yards until my senses left me and the world went black.

"Wake yer crazy ass up !" The words sliced air like a peach switch, but it was cold water splashing on my face that brought me out of the void. Following another double cupped handful of cold stream water I heaved myself up and yelled "I'm awake damn it !" at Whitey who was ready to baptize me again and managed to do so just for the hell of it.
Flip was squatted by the stream dipping a spare bandana into it's cold flowing water. Walking over to me he offered the wet cloth as to clean up my face. - "Shit man, you're a fucking mess" He then began pulling out items from our first aid kit.
Dripping wet, no doubt by attempting the same jump as I did, R.W. asked - "What the fuck happen to you early this morning ?"
"How early ?" I demanded while bumming bummed a smoke off Whitey.
"Around quarter after five " Flip responded rubbing a gob of tube extruded ointment on my eyebrow. - "When you were leaving the tent I woke up. At first I though you were out for a piss, but after awhile I heard you fussing at something, so I started to get up, but couldn't find my glasses"
"Then there was an ungodly scream " R.W. added and inquired - "Was that you ? It sure didn't sound like you. I thought it was a screech owl "
Flip went on - "I finally found my glasses, they were knocked them off my travel bag when you were getting up. Well I poked my head out of the door flap just in time to see you tearing into the woods"
"Did you see that fucking critter ?" I asked
"Nope just you"
"No burning head ?"
"Burning head ? No. I just saw you taking to the brush but quick and howling like a mad dog" Flip replied, putting up his tube of ointment.
"You woke everybody up with your crazy shit, so Whitey, Flip and I got geared up to bring you back. Damn Skid, I ain't even had coffee yet" R.W. informed me.
I guzzled down about half of Flip's canteen then told them - "She must of tracked us here, then waited to attack just before dawn"
R.W. gave me an odd look - "She ?"
"Yeah she ! Claudia you wet Poodle !" I went on - “She was calling me from the thick brush. Calling me, but I did not go in. She walked into camp as naked as dawn"
R.W. wanted to know - "Did you tag ?"
"Fuck no, I didn't tag, you dumb ass, I refused, and she turned into some kind of forest devil then made a grab at me" I got up, pulled off what was left of my Tshirt and washed the blood out.
"Then what happen ? " Whitey asked as if he was talking to a nut-job.
"I threw down on it, swung my knife and gave that old critter a good nick or two, but it was those two albino twins who chased her away"
"You stupid ass !" Whitey laughed - "You were sleepwalking in a nightmare" He had a hard time accepting anything supernatural or paranormal, even it was right in front of his face.
"Bullshit Whitey !" I growled - “It was wounded when it booked off. I followed it's screams and crashing until dawn found me atop the ridge where I found it's blood trail.

“Blood ?”

Fucking blood that looked like grape juice"
"Purple People Eater ?" Whitey chuckled poking more fun than he should of.
"We saw no gore other than a few splatters of regular red blood " Flip said
"It wasn't purple ?" I asked.
"Nope, red, like a deer or human" Whitey replied
"Came from you probably " Flip said adding - "You may need to get that stitched-up " he suggested pointing at my gashed brow.
"Aint that bad" I assured him then walked over to where earlier, the creature's blood dripped over flora, dirt and stone. I inwardly swore seeing only dead-bleached spots upon the moss on a rock, wilted dying grass and black splattered stains in the dirt. "Even it's blood is vile"

At a slow and easy pace we went back over the ridge and back to camp talking of making the best of what was left of our vacation .

Charlie got real sick, so we left Sherando Lake two days earlier than planned ..

[Atehequa]

Epilogue

Our accommodations at the Ramada Inn were somewhat better than many of the other roadside motor lodges we have had to bivouac in.

Flip and I had been doing weekend side work in the City of Blacksburg Virginia for old friends and decided to take abode here right off Highway 460. Finishing up some Chinese take-out, I cracked open a bottle of vodka and filled our cups. Outside it was an unseasonably sunny 70 degrees that late February weekend here in this college town. Earlier than expected we had finished installing some of our fine home crafted cedar kitchen cabinets in an old house that was being restored. Paid in cash, we would relax a bit in our motel room and get one going before hitting the main drag. Bars, Taverns and new situations awaited us. Up until today weather had been rather mild in Virginia during the 2006-2007 winter season. Our room had a view of a grassy field-like depression and beyond that, other buildings. Grabbing our drinks and ambling out the second floor room onto a railed walkway, we gazed of what scenery there was before us.
"Hey what's that ?" Flip asked pointing to a low platform-like wooden structure some ten feet out in the field.
"What the hell does it look like ?"
"It looks like a small stage" Flip answered his own question as we looked down at the treated wood structure surrounded by metal picnic tables.
"A soapbox to stand upon if needed" I replied checking out the horde of college kids pouring into a room about 8 doors down.

Flip was shot with gray and more gaunt than ever, but still managed to get around good. He was younger than me, but looked years older. Gone was the colorful bandana knotted about his head, now he topped it off with a olive green fedora just like the one his ex-girlfriend lit on fire and tossed out the window during a drunken spat. Oh what a lovely couple they were, a thin bird-looking man and a somewhat rotund younger woman with coarse black hair, weird sky blue eyes and a tough hide sporting a good several tattoos. They had planned to get married this June until he had discovered his bride to be was also banging a biker, bartender and an air force flyboy from Langley. Already somewhat strapped, She had put him into heavy debt.
"How's Nicole ?" I inquired.
"Fuck that hose-bag !" He hissed, his eyes black and beady like a cobra.
I smiled at his response as a co-worker had informed me Flip and 'Nikki' were together at a local watering hole the night before she had to turn herself over last month to the Virginia correctional system due to her third DUI arrest and first assault on a law enforcement officer during 2005. Up until now Nicole‘s parents had kept her out of jail, but cut off their support after the last DUI. Time to pay dues.
"She's in the pokey" He said and then asked not to mention her name again - "I'm trying to stay in a good mood"
Flip had reason to be in a good mood as this was the last month he had to pay child support . His youngest child was now an adult. Needless to say his ex-wife did not share in this happiness. There was already talk of her and her new hubby having to sell their Florida vacation home. I told him to get a lawyer when they first separated, but he was too tight in those days to spend a quarter to save a dollar so to speak.
Like Flip, I had grown older and went through divorce with my first wife. Thank goodness no children were involved. Now with a new woman and beautiful 9 year-old daughter, the many bawdy nights of marathon drinking, wenching, rounding and all other aspects associated with being a bad husband were a thing in the past. Besides work and an occasional camping trip with friends, I pretty much stayed with my family. A homebody of sorts, but that’s not to say I ceased my quaffing completely. We still had our trips out of town to really put one on.

Now about 250 miles from home we decided to get up there a bit.

Going back inside I tightened up both cups, while Flip packed a small steatite bowl full of Whoodee.

It had been awhile for me.

With the motel radio on we caught-up on local news and spoke of our old comrades living or departed.
Denny had been killed on a dark cloudy night in the winter of 86 while sitting atop his motorbike at a stoplight by a fast moving pickup truck. A witness stated Denny had stopped about three car lengths back from the green traffic signal and for some reason cut off his lights. Some said suicide, others claimed it was something else.
His brother R.W., once the dandy of Lynnhaven was now ate up with hardcore chronic alcoholism in an old mobile home at the edge of Poquoson's salt marsh. Unable to work he had become more or less a recluse.
Old friend Whitey was no better off, drunk every day and slowly dying of cancer. Although I had talked to Bear on the phone a few times, neither Flip or myself had not seen him since late 1997. We had heard he had slacked-up on the drinking, but had ballooned twice his normal huge size. He had a new passion, a smoke house and smoked meats. I still called him each time before we went camping and offer invitation, which he always refused.

"Ever heard anything from Patti ? " I asked, thinking of the dancing girl for some odd reason and knowing Flip still frequented the Go-Go Clubs.
"She was crack-whoring down in Ocean View, but I also heard she is dead" Flip sadly replied.
"Sad" I said - "Such a happy-go-lucky little sprite, she had the whole world before her"
"That world got smoked through a crack pipe" Flip returned.
I informed him that Patti's sister worked at my place of employment but would not talk about her sibling.
"Yep, she's probably dead or worse" Flip said. Getting away from Patti I raised my cup to Flip and cheered him - "Well you have not aged a bit"
"You ain't either" He lied.
Then clanking his cup with mine I raised a toast - "Here's to good liars and better lies !"
We drained our cups and proceeded to sample the usual potent green hydroponic Whoodee that had become the mainstay of area heads. None the less we got pretty much up there.

We were a vanishing people. Two of a rare few still active members of a band, now all but disbanded. Some had moved away starting new lives, some were sickly, unable to travel, much less camp, a couple were currently serving time in prison and all others were dead. Memories and names carved on headstones. The past glories of Lynnhaven were now only campfire stories and tavern table tales.
.
We were comfortable enough in the Ramada room and there was a sense of security, but having never lodged at this place it may be best for us to tread carefully. I had found the ice, soda and snack machine earlier with no trouble. It was a good thing we'd checked in Friday around noon as the motel was rapidly becoming non-vacant We ate lunch then went to the work-site where Flip and I worked till 9 pm, came back to the room, feasted upon pizza, got slammed before passing out. Rising early, then back to work, we finished the job by lunch. After that The Ramada was filling fast with weekend celebrating college kids, Power drinking locals, bawdy bumpateers, out of town craftsmen and the rare Winter season tourist or three.
Returning to the room not long ago with 7UPs, bugles and bucket of ice, I was approached by a late teen or barely into her 20s who wanted me to violate Virginia’s ABC laws by going into town and picking up some hard sauce. She asked in such a pleasant manner that I felt ill at ease to decline. She thanked me anyway as I knocked for Flip to open up.
Seeing the young woman walk away Flip watched with hand shaded eyes.
"Who was that ?" He wanted to know.
"Didn't catch her name, she wanted me to fetch booze for her and her friends"
"Never know" Flip said - "They could be operating an ABC sting"
Shaking my head in woe, and then remembering how it was when I was young - "These kids have a more hard way to go getting up there, shit man, back in the 70s, the fuzz barely fucked with us, unless of course we were raising too much hell"
"These kids know how to score, probably better than us. She'll find somebody to pick up her liquor"
"You're probably right Flip" Then I reminded him of the days of our youth when the age to buy beer was 18, and how we had little trouble copping hard spirits. Many times we had checked into various motels under assumed names, filled a bath tub with ice and beverage for a Friday night festival. Now as the 21st century dawned, badges, batons and big brother were always a step away or passing near, especially after 9/11.
The sense of scrutiny caressed with the comfort of a roll of 60 grit sandpaper hanging on a dispenser next to a dirty toilet. When traveling we secured our own rented lodgings. Flip traveled with his long barrel 38 revolver, while I took along my reproduction 1860 Army 44 ball and cap hog leg. Of course we brought our blades. My Khyber knife lay under a pillow. If some crack-head kicked in the door like what happen at a motel at Ocean View back in 94, we would be ready.


Having reflected upon days long past over another drink, a motel lamp and the free HBO illuminated the room as I called a cab so as to get us to 'party town' without the risk of a DUI. In no time the driver arrived blowing his horn outside. Exiting our lodging we had to go back in and grab coats as it had suddenly turned cold and grey. They say if one doesn’t like the weather in Virginia, just stick around and it’ll change.

We booked off into the Night.

Stoned, slammed, I failed to remember names of the establishments we visited that night. All were packed with school kids not half our age. They treated us for the most part in a friendly manner, but still we felt out of place. In the last of these college bars, a very nice top floor place atop a good many steep stairs it was time to make plans. I could barely hear Flip over the loud music.
"Is there anywhere in this town where old folks can drink in peace and quiet ?" Flip attempted to shout over the pounding beat. Before I could reply, the bartender gave us a name and directions , which upon finishing our drinks we followed. A chill was in the air and a light frozen rain and mist fell. Soon the sidewalks became rather precarious for fellows such as us. Flip took a slide on the icy sidewalk almost tumbling over a newspaper machine.
"Easy there Peggy Fleming" I laughed, taking lead in crossing the street - "This is the place" pointing at the dull structure ahead.
It didn't look to be a bar from the outside, more like some run down business thrust between two other old storefronts. However inside both of us grinned, knowing this place was better suited for our festive needs. Before us a darken table area that was about half filled with patrons and beyond that a dimly lit bar sporting about a dozen stools. Two old kats sat atop swiveling seats at the rough-hewn bar, while two more copped a squat.

We had gave this place a once-over while making for the bar, recognizing no one to our knowledge. The bartender a friendly enough looking soul asked what we would be drinking tonight.
"Two of the largest zombies you can make please" I ordered and informed him we didn't mind paying extra for a good drink.
"I can do that " He said with a smile and produced two small glass beer pitchers in which proceeded to mix our beverages.
"Fuck man, don't know if I can handle all that" Flip said watching the massive amount of booze being poured.
I breathed in the cigarette smoke and the smell of spilt beer - "A nightcap, Flip, before bed"
"Some fucking nightcap, more like a sledgehammer to the skull" Flip returned.
"A last one for the road" I laughed.
Flip chuckled -"That last one is going to do just that"
"What's that ?"
"Last" Flip replied - "Last all night, that's about 5 drinks in one"
"Don't worry about it Flippy, this is my treat, but you're getting the cab home"
Thinking it would be good to put a table under such large beverages we hefted the pitchers like huge tankards to an empty booth near the door where both of us quaffed deeply.
"How's your drink, Flip ?"
"Heavy"
"How's your's Jim ?"
"Strong"
With good booze running down his chin, Flip warned - "I hope we don't slip and break our necks out there"
Getting bombed off our giant-sized drinks, we sat and talked. At one point we touched upon plans of getting our families together for camping at the Verona KOA.
"I hate privately owned campgrounds"
"Yeah but the kids like the waterfall and bunnies" He slurred, then got up and made his way to the restroom. Grooving on the Jukebox's top 20 sounds, I enjoyed my large drink while gazing at a distorted reflection upon the cloudy glass door. Scant worries here getting fucked-up before calling a cab and taking our chances back at the Ramada.

My ponderings were suddenly disturbed by a gentle tap on the back. Turning my head down and around I saw a pair of women's boots. Looking upwards I saw she was wearing jeans and a thick woolen sweater. She appeared barely into her 30s with a beautiful face framed by shoulder-length chestnut hair. I drew in a deep breath while my hackles rose. As my eyes adjusted more to her form and features, I felt a chill colder than the ice storm outside. She regarded me with strange golden-hued eyes and with a rich voice said - "I know this sounds corny, but,, I'm sure I know you from somewhere"
Almost reducing down to kettle-mush while gazing at that haughty yet sensual face, I managed to gather myself - "I doubt that"
"I'm Melissa" She offered an extended hand, but I grabbed my drink and raised it instead.
"I'm Joe" I returned having an inclination we knew each other lied. Above smiling lips, the look in her fiery eyes could almost be mistaken for a glare. I expected her at any split second to change into some terrible semi-human creature from the dark, demonical past and with a sharp black talon hand, rip my face off. That didn't happen, but I felt like a mouse at night in an open field. It was enough not flying into some weird black rage and smashing my drinking pitcher against the creature’s head .

Although fearful, I could not take my eyes off her unusual beauty. She spoke of the weather - "Getting cold out there. A good night to be near the fire and in a sleeping bag" It was then Flip returned to our table. I watched his jaw drop as he got a good look at our visitor.
"Hi my name is Melissa" She said, again extending her hand which Flip lightly and swiftly shook. The Birdman then shot me a worried glance.
"My name is Joe " he stated not realizing I already snagged that handle.
"Two Joes in the same bar and at the same table" She laughed - "What are the odds on that ?"
Her eyes now aglow with fire, she bowed her head slightly and said - "Well nice meeting you Joes, I've got to be getting back to my friends. Maybe I'll see you Joes around later" With that she smiled, turned and walked across the hardwood floor with the gracefulness of a she panther.
Flip pulled out his cell-phone to call a cab, while I went to piss, getting a decent look at Melissa's friends while passing their table.

And what friends did they appear to be. I got a better look at them on my way back from the restroom, as they did me.

Sitting around a small table there were five of them including 'Melissa' and on either side of her sat a lovely ginger haired woman. One was clad in clothing much too skimpy for a icy Winter's night. Her skin was of a saffron hue with very pale grey eyes that were slightly tinged with glowing yellowish streaks. The other was garbed like Melissa, sweater, jeans and boots. Her face was inhumanly lovely and a pale yellowish-white ivory color. Her amber eyes flashed at Melissa's before locking on me as I passed. Across the table from 'the gals' sat a giant of a fellow. Judging his seated height against Melissa's, I'd estimate him to be about 6'9". He was rangy with a strange shaped close-cropped head of carrot-orange hair. Sloping down from between two amber eyes was a large ski jump shaped snout with large flaring nostrils. His chin curved upwards in a most curious way. Beside the red giant, a young collage age whacked-out looking Asian kat cackling and blowing bubbles into his drink with a straw. Aside from the crazy-eyed bubble blower, all glared at me as I passed their table.
Rejoining Flip I guzzled down a large measure of beverage just to settle my nerves. I would of drank the rest but our cab showed up so we left these critters where they sat. Outside a coating of ice was forming on just about everything but the cold fresh air did us better than the stench at the den we had just left. Flip and I sat in shocked silence the whole cab ride back.

We were swiftly whisked to the Ramada. Flip paid our driver and we carefully made our way across a frozen parking lot. We couldn't get in our room quick enough, securing all locks and putting a chair up against the door. Weapons were inspected and put near to hand. I poured both of us a double vodka and handed Flip a bag of Bugles.
He ripped the bag open popped about ten of the corn snacks into his mouth one after the other, chewed it all into a mush and washed it down with liquor. He slapped his hand upon the small motel table - "Holy fuck ! I don't believe it!"
Throwing down a good measure of vodka, I told him - "Believe it"
"Got no other fucking choice !" He said.
"Hasn’t aged much, has she ?" Then I added - "Hope we weren't followed"
Flip, now re-inspecting his revolver blathered - "Followed ? Oh fancy that, we'll get to meet some of her special friends this time" He looked down his pistol sight and continued - "You know Jim, I had almost put that weird-ass camping trip at Big Meadows out of my mind as too much trip weed and liquor, but that critter is no pink elephant, living, breathing and I might add, filling out a pair of jeans very well"
"Yes very lovely indeed" I stated, adding -”Oddly enough I started thinking of it when we talked about Patti” I was now thinking about my cousin Charlie withering away at a Williamsburg nursing home, and Denny’s untimely death. I also thought of past sick behavior that ruined my marriage. Drinking and cheating. In most every woman’s face I screwed, I saw Claudia. This went on for ten years until healed by my current wife and her people’s medicine.

"If I were you Jim, I'd make sure you have good charges in that horse pistol" The Birdman said waving around his shooting iron like some kind of border ruffian.
Never being a big fan of mixing alcohol, fear and handguns together, I informed Flip - "It's ready and there if I need it. Now put that fucking pea shooter away before it goes off and hits me or somebody in the next room over"
He strapped on his shoulder holster and slid the gun in while I kept mine in between mattress and box springs.
"How in the hell did we manage to cross paths with that critter again ?" Flip asked, placing his hunting knife upon the table.
"I think it was a chance meeting, you know like running into an old friend at a bar or grocery store" I replied spinning his blade around on the table's smooth finished surface.
Getting up to check both window view and locks he said - "Did you mean to say, old fiend ?"
"It was chance, if that thing was after us, we would of seen it before now"
"Well I ain't going down without a fight" He snarled. I could see he was a bundle of dangerous nerves at this point.
"Just don't go shooting at anything here yet" I told him and requested he take off the holster and put in a drawer.
"Fuck no" He returned - "I got a good look at their brethren-kin at that table, a rough looking customer" Then Flip asked - "Did you see that fucker's head ?"
"No more odd looking than yours" I laughed, attempting to cool down the situation.
"No wonder they were sitting in the dark " Flip said.
"At this point Flip, I halfway expect them to bust through the door and turn us into party punch”
"Damned devils " He hissed and asked - "What now ?"
"What do you mean ?"
"Do we get the fuck out of here ?"
"And go where ?"
"Roanoke, Richmond, home, who gives a fuck ? Anywhere but five miles away from where that thing is lounging at"
"Screw that Flip, I paid for this room for two nights just to help your broke-ass out, and I'm not going anywhere tonight during a fucking ice storm so stay cool. If anything comes through that door they'll at least catch nine or ten bullets before sitting down to talk"
"Think they'll come ?" He inquired.
"Maybe, but something in their cutting glares told me otherwise"
"Whada ya mean ?"
"It was the kind of look feuding kinfolk give each other, or the way pissed-off employees glare at a boss, once his back is turned. Oh I ain't saying they wouldn't like to do rip us to ribbons, but it appeared they were otherwise engaged. Did you see that whacked-out oriental guy with them ? No I think they got something important going on back at that bar”
"So why the hell do you have a loaded gun in your bed ?" Flip asked, appearing a bit more calm.
"Cause sometimes I'm wrong" and added "Let us be ready, but speak no more of it"
"Well we can burn one if you want "

Flip filled his Steatite pipe and we smoked, watched television, but remained jumpy because all of the loud walkway foot traffic passing outside our door. A motel mostly filled with iced-in drunks.
"We'll try to get out tomorrow " I said - "Head towards Roanoke"

We awoke to the sound of commotion coming from down the walkway. Flip Flipped his bedside lamp on as I pulled on my duds, removed the chair, opened the door, braved the cold and chanced a look down the way.
"What's going on ?" Flip putting on his glasses, wanted to know.
"Snockered-up college kids fighting out on the walkway"
"Shit man, I thought it was Claudia and them, close that door and let them duke it out"
"That ain't all, I see flashing blue lights"
"Cops ?"
"No, fucking UFOs !" He hissed
Hearing tires turn upon ice-slick asphalt, I closed the door and got a 7Up out of our mini fridge. - "Of course they're cops, about to raid a party"
We could now see reflections of those blue flashing lights through the frosted window.
"No more sleep for tonight" Flip yawned then checked out his watch "3:35 " He said, then got up to brew us a small motel pot of complementary coffee.
"I could of used about four more hours of sleep" I said.
Flip placing the coffee packet in agreed - "Me too, I feel like,,," He fell silent as there was knocking at our door. Three more times we heard a knock, then for a short while ceased, then continued. Already pissed at the whole situation and about half hung-over, I walked to the door and asked in a loud voice - "Who is it ?"
"A few doors down" The voice was female. Flip was already on the other side of the door with his pistol as I cracked it open, chain still attached only to see the young lady who had approached me earlier about getting her some booze.
"Can I help you Miss ?" I asked, motioning Flip to put down.
"I'm in trouble, can I come in ?"
"What troubles you ?"
"Can I come in, they're raiding our room"
"Get in !" I growled, lifting the chain then easing open our door.
After getting over the shock of seeing Flip in his underwear brandishing a gun she calmed down enough to accept a plastic motel cup full of steaming coffee and managed an explanation for waking us. "I was downstairs on the other side at the vending machines when the cops pulled up and snuck around the back way, but think I was spotted"
"So you knocked on our door ?"
"I could hear him running after me, but it sounded like he slipped on the ice. When you let me in I could hear him coming up the stairs. It was the only thing I could think of"
She said her name was Megan and thanked us again for our hospitality and we were comforted by her dark hair and blue eyes. 'Human' I thought, putting aside worries of changelings and such.

We gave her cover then at dawn enjoyed The Ramada's continental breakfast of waffles and other goodies with our young guest before parting ways. Checking out of our lodging we made it as far as Dixie Caverns on Interstate 81 and because of icy road conditions decided to hole up at some old roadside-style motor lodge called the Blue Jay Motel. Within walking distance of our new lodgings were Dixie Caverns,. I'd promised my daughter I'd get her some fossils from the gift shop. Besides, I wanted to get ripped and tour the caverns.

Feeling much more at ease in this wood paneled room, Flip loaded one so as we could get up there before going under the mountain with a qualified tour guide.
"This is some halfway decent shit you got here, Flip" I exhaled passing him back the pipe. The Birdman put butane flame upon the bowl, drew in, then expelled a stream of smoke and said with a smile - "Yeah it's alright, but nothing like what we snagged up on, years back at that secret garden on the Little Hawksbill”
Clanking ale bottles together we cheered - “To high adventure !”

Although we knew people in that town, Flip and I have never returned to Blacksburg believing this to be a base of the huntress and others of her kind.