One of the newcomers had a drum under his arm, which was a carved piece of wood with a calfskin head. Two others carried similar items.
Leslie grasped my hand; her expression was cautious, yet interested. “These boys came to party.”
Leonard waved to us. “Make us food. We hungry.”
Zelda got to her feet. “There’s plenty of venison left over. Let’s get a pan out.”
It was late at night, and I was groggy from the cannabis, but we had been summoned to work, all under many sets of watchful black eyes. I didn’t want to have to provide a feast for a bunch of horny apes, but it seemed as if I did not have a choice in the matter. While we began the preparations, the Bigfoots lingered near Bubba’s grave, staring at the once great Sasquatch. The drums began to sound.
There was talking and gesturing, punctuated by grunts.
We cut up the meat and fried it with garlic and onions, to reduce the gamey quality. Leslie prepared a stew, but it wasn’t clear how soon the creatures wanted to eat. The stew would take hours.
Zelda worked on the campfire biscuits. The aroma was delicious, but I wasn’t hungry in the least, having already had dinner. When we were done, we sat together on a pelt with a blanket around us, listening to the drums and the strange, archaic speech of the Sasquatches. They were far more interested in tribal matters than an orgy, which was a relief.
“I’m going to bed.” I got to my feet. “Will they be able to serve themselves?” There were wooden bowls and spoons stacked neatly nearby.
“I got it, hon. Go to sleep.”
“How about you?”
Leslie yawned. “I guess that’s it. Exciting party.” She joined me. “See ya in the morning.”
Our departure was noted, as several interested eyes glanced in our direction, but their discussion was more important, as they huddled together in a circle on the grass. It shouldn’t have surprised me that they were peaceful and orderly.
Leonard glanced at me, nodding. I waved to him. After I had brushed my teeth and relieved myself in the woods, I unzipped the tent and crawled inside, lying close to Daisy, who was sound asleep.
Wolfie had his arm around her. I closed my eyes, listening to the gentle refrains of his snores.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Leslie had poked her head inside the tent.
“Aw…go away.”
“They buried Bubba. Leonard is our new leader.”
“Fantastic.” I reached out to touch Daisy, finding nothing but air. “Where’s my kid?” I sat up, suddenly panicked. “Where’s Wolfie?”
“Relax. They’re by the fire.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“A while. Quit freaking out. Everything’s fine.”
“Are all those apes still here?”
“Yeah. They went hunting. They ate everything last night.”
“Are they staying with us?”
“I don’t think so. They’re just here for the funeral.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You still thinking of leaving?”
“I don’t know. It’s too early to worry about that now.”
“I gotta pee.”
“I wouldn’t do it here.” She smiled.
“No kidding.” I slid my shoes on. “Is there any coffee?”
“Yep.”
“Thank God.”
The camp was oddly deserted. Wolfie and Daisy played by the fire on a blanket. They had an assortment of toys: wooden building blocks, dolls, cars, and odds and ends. Daisy’s room at home was filled with toys. I missed Mike in that instant, wondering what he was doing. He’d gotten a job working as a park ranger for the summer season. In the off-season we subsisted off several significant pieces of gold that Leonard had given me. The Sasquatches cared little for the precious material, and there was more hidden in various places. We sold the nuggets to cover expenses, but we lied about the origins. The last thing we needed was a gold rush with a stampede of greedy miners. The Bigfoot hunters had been bad enough.
As I drank coffee and stared at the little ones, several apes neared, and none of them looked familiar. They eyed me, noting the long, blonde hair hanging down my back. They smelled a bit of wet dog, as they had been in the river and their fur had yet to dry. A tall, thinner-looking Sasquatch sat near me, and I thought to move, but I didn’t want to appear frightened. I wasn’t frightened, was I? He reached out, touching my hair. He appraised my face, his nostrils flaring. Daisy cooed then, distracting him. His expression softened when he stared at her. The toddler was slightly pudgy, with fair hair and pale features. Wolfie was nearly always by her side, as they were the same age and the best of friends.
“That’s my daughter.” Would he understand me?
“She pretty,” he rasped.
I hadn’t expected him to talk. “You speak English?”
“A little.”
“You speak it really well.” This praise pleased him, and he grinned, flashing strong-looking teeth.
“Did you have a human mother?” He nodded. “Where is she?”
“She died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was long ago.”
“What’s your name?”
“Harry.”
“How appropriate,” I giggled. It was always mildly astounding to meet a Bigfoot who I could communicate with. “Are you the leader of your tribe?”
“No. Thoron is.”
“Which one is he?”
He glanced in the distance, pointing. “Him.” The ape in question was tall and broad with a thick, unruly pelt.
“Where do you live?”
“North.”
“You heard our Bigfoots calling?”
He nodded. “We were close.”
Leslie strolled over carrying several dishes. She set them down and began to organize the cooking utensils. “Hey, come meet Harry.”
Her hands went to her hips. “Harry?”
“It’s a great name, isn’t it?”
She had on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. “Hi, Harry.”
His nostrils flared. “Leslie,” he rasped. “Sorry you lost Bubba.”
“Th-thanks.” She seemed taken aback by the polite offer of condolence. She eyed him peculiarly.
Something furry and small bounded over, latching on to her leg. “Hey, squirt.” Wolfie grunted and snorted. “You smell weird. What did you get into?” She picked him up, sniffing him. “Ugh. It’s like wild ginger or something. Yuck.” Harry eyed Wolfie, a slight smile lingering around his mouth. He struggled in her arms, extending his hands towards the friendly newcomer. She gave the child over to him, albeit reluctantly. “Do you have any kids, Harry?”
“No.”
“Your tribe didn’t kidnap women?”
“Sometimes.”
Wolfie clung to him, grunting while jumping up and down on his knees. He swatted his butt, and the youngster stilled instantly. “Hey! Don’t hit my kid.”
“Not good to jump on people.”
Her hands went to her hips. “We manage our children just fine here, mister. I don’t need you abusing my kid.”
The pat hadn’t affected Wolfie in the least. He settled easily, licking his lips, while staring at his mother. “He learn manners. Now he’s a good boy.” He petted Wolfie, who purred instantly.
I enjoyed this interaction, finding it amusing how upset Leslie had become, staring down her nose at the strange Sasquatch.
“Okay, give me my kid back.” She held out her arms. “Come here, honey.” Wolfie wasn’t
interested in leaving Harry’s lap. He ignored his mother’s entreaty, preferring to purr, while being petted. She pointed her finger in Harry’s face. “Don’t hit my kid again.”
“Don’t you think you might be overreacting a bit?”
She glared at me. “Stay out of it.”
Harry’s eyes glinted. “Mommy needs her butt spanked too.”
Leslie’s mouth fell open. “You got some nerve.”
Oh, boy. This was more fun than watching Zelda scolding Pooky for dragging feces into camp on the bottom of his feet. Leslie glared at Harry, while Wolfie snorted happily, unaware that a battle of the wills was occurring.
“Don’t think you can just show up here and throw your weight around. You’re in our camp.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Zelda approached, carrying several gutted fish. “We got cooking to start. You finished arguing over there?”
Harry wouldn’t break eye contact, daring her to say or do something else.
“Shit!” Leslie turned on her heel. “Bastard. Can’t wait till they leave. I’m tired of running a goddamn hotel.”
“You’re doin’ real good, honey.” Zelda nodded towards her. “Just hang in there.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Zelda gave me a look. “It’s gonna be a long day.”