The Secret Garden

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 abit on edge.

As it drew more near, I breathed a sigh of relief having recognized the motor sound. It was Mildred and Guy and they were now slowing to a halt. Claudia waved them in. Pulling off slowly, Guy backed the stationwagon 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 as if she was in a highschool play Mildred recounted her and Guy's visit to Sperryville. The whole time her eyes were locked on to Claudia's With a jerk of his head Bear signaled me to look at Guy, whose tongue was hanging slightly out as he stared at Treebark. Not taking her eyes off Mildred Claudia stated - "These kids are leaving to camp at Loft Mountain tomorrow" Guy still inspecting the Tree trunk and some vines responded in a strange and distant emotionless voice - "Sounds great,, like to see Loft Mountain,, think we'll do the same.. How's that sound Mildred ?"
"Sounds Great" Mildred replied, still looking directly at Claudia who now smiling like an artist fawning over a newly finished work. Eyes still locked onto Claudia's, Mildred said - "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, leading him towards their camp. A half of minute later the stationwagon 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 cackled out blathering nonsense. Patti was as always her cheerful self.

After hearing Guy's change of plans it seemed we of the Band had choices to make. Looking over at The Great Bear I saw he was going through some weird changes. With teeth bared in a mirthless smile and heavy brows knotted over his stormy grey eyes I knew something was getting ready to go down..

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


All I could do was sit there weirded-out, sipping my ale thinking - 'Four or five days from now they'll find us atop Loft Mountain in our tents sucked dry into crispy nothingness like melba toast'

Fuck that !

The Bear still had that psychotic leering smile on his face and things were going on behind those grey eyes and then without a word stood up and leaned in over the table holding Claudia in a rather savage gaze. Seconds dragged before he spoke in a sharp clear voice - "I think we can have alot of fun at Loft Mountain. Don't you ?" This was followed by a short rumbling growl and a hiss. Claudia involuntarily drew back and recoiled as The Bear leaned in abit further adding with a beast-like grin - "I can't wait, how about you ?" He had the savage visage of something that was nigh ready to stop, turn and cooly withstand. He seemed more scary than angry. Claudia was either startled, keeping a level head, or oblivious of Bear's behavior. At times Marijuana brought out a wild 'devil may care' side of him. He was unpredictable at those times. Perhaps it was best The Great Bear didn't mess with weed hardly anymore, but now he did. Flip knowing anything could happen now, shot me a nervous glance.

Nodding his shaggy head as if some understanding was made clear, The Great Bear re-seated himself. He pointed over at Claudia and calmly requested - "Could you get me something to drink ?" Almost as if she was obeying some tribal hetman's command, Claudia rose from the bench and asked - "What would you like ?"
"Well if ol Jim don't mind, I'd like to have an ale" Denny, Flip, R.W. Whitey and even Charlie looked on in amazement as Claudia walked over to my cooler, grabbed 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 which left me pondering whether to get high or not. Regarding them all in a sweeping gaze, I stated - "I'm going in the tent.. Last one in zip up the flap"

Time for me to get up there and get a Bird's eye view of our Vacation Encampment. Upon entering the tent I heard Bear's folding campchair creak over the sound of footfalls behind me..

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 he heard Bear's booming voice - "Hold on for one more !" The Great Bear entered slowly and copped a seat on Flip's bedding stretching his injured leg out. We formed a crude close circle of 7 and shared the # number leftover from our ill-fated earlier hike. The Bear in his re-visited state of Reefer Madness tended to be somewhat of a bogart. Between him and Charlie hogging the joint I had to roll two more. One for now, the other for later. The second one proved to be abit 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 breaths of laughter that now had become a tittering wheeze. Charlie kept looking at him with a comical bug-eyed, puckered mouth, shakey 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"
"That's it------ for me" He said catching his breath.
"I'll say" Flip returned, then helped the big man up and out of the tent. Our heads 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 - "Thankya baby, that's the way I like em" She then proceeded to fix em up with some relish and mustard.
"You gonna eat all three of them" Flip asked then added - "They look 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 the 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 that caused 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 handfull of toothpicks at Whitey, Charlie bawled - "Mutha-fucker, you did that on purpose !!"
"Did you have sneeze coverage on your policy ?" Whitey asked laughing and shaking toothpicks out of his hair. Bringing out a knife, Bear cut out a square from a paper plate then placed it atop his tiny cabin which caused the whole thing to crumble into a pile of toothpicks. He stared at the ruins for a couple of minutes then asked me to get him a beer.
"You fuckers owe me a box of toothpicks" Flip said while looking at the mess.

The destruction was soon forgotten as Bear, Charlie and Whitey engaged themselves in substance induced gibberish. "Mind if I get an ale ?" Claudia asked, and added - "Think I could use one right about now" Reaching into my cooler I pulled one out, opened and handed it to her.

It was then we heard people approaching on foot..

The sound of their voices and 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. Flip 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 completing the surround.

There were four of them, three young women and a teenage male, all looking abit frightened and no doubt now wondering if it was indeed a wise decision entering a Heathen 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 had turned around only to see Denny checking her out with a broad smile upon his face, yet remaining silent awaiting any formalities. One of them, a short plump girl with dark big hair almost as tall as The Great Bear, 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 complextion. Perhaps a Mediterranean of some type. Taking notice of Bear's grey and bloodshot eyes, she closed her mouth and looked down. The other girl obviously an Oriental of some sort 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 stated pointing at the chubby kid with the blue, black and bright purple hair. Holly then added - "And you've already met Yvonne"
"Not me" Denny said, stepping around infront of his brother to face the comely young lady. "Hey Yvonne, I'm Denny"
At 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 inbetween 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 stated - "You were 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 their tail feathers and perform various courtship struttings, 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 !" and - "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 good 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, ugh, we have softdrinks 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 The Great Bear banged his walkingstick 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, taking a close look at Dave's multi-color 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 4 course meal. Whitey slugged down some more beer, nodded his head over at Dave's group and made a jerk-off motion with his hand. Charlie shouted - "Get some hot sausage baby !" Both brothers stood poised gazing with fond eyes at Yvonne. The Dibbles 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, or out and out violence. Oh how the fur would fly. Every so often these squabbles would 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 some unknown tart, just met. 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" The Great Bear snarled as if his 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 - " But if they got their own hootch up at that RV, that's their business and I ain't holding it against them" He then added - "Shouldn't fuck with them just because they're young"
"They were fucking rude" Patti countered - "Entered without a hello and left without so 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' Patti 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 plummaged bird flitting through then flying above a wide array of horndogs, power drunks, drug merchants and addicts, or 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 abit 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 ?"
"Carry your asses" R.W. with eyes slit quoted her.
"I wanted them to hear me"
"Well they probaly did" R.W. said then turned his attention to Denny who was throwing a towel off the line over his shoulder and heading for their tent. "Where the fuck are you going man ?" R.W. demanded to which Denny replied -
"Getting some shower gear together, if that's alright with you"
"For what ?" R.W. wanted to know.
"I'm going up to the showerhouse"
"What for ?"
"To get clean, you fucking jerkwad, 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 inbetween tents bickering like old roosters over a house full of hens - "Look at them, not even drunk yet and going at it with each other over a blooming 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.
"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" 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 six or so 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. With his buzz all but worn off The Great 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 menthol cigarette. Looking at his watch he swore under his breath. "Goddamn-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" in which I responded -
"You don't rekkin ?"
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"
"Well I got 20 bucks that says I'll whomp both of them into the ground if they start any monkey-shit at this campground" The Bear growled..

R.W. lit up another Salem 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" The Great Bear 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 fuckers scrapping and rolling around in the dirt like stray cats, hissing, screaming and bringing down the heat on the rest of us. Ya 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 told 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 those teenyboppers, smoke with us"
"Might as well" R.W. said with a sigh then added - "But that Yvonne is a fox, eh ?"
"Probaly looking to hook-up with some booze or dope" Whitey stated.
Obliging 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, abit too crowded in there for me.Think I'm gonna get out on the trail to take a good walk without the antics we had experienced earlier" Then asked her - "Care to come along ?" 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. The Great Bear grunted out a goodbye as well.

I bowed, turned and promptly departed..

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 Marijuana Raiders I made good time. Soon I was nearing that path by The Little Hawksbill, my tread became light and all but silent.

Feeling confident my passing was not detected by any 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 same 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 in a swift yet careful manner moving upwards 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 small personal-sized # from a pack of Winstons I had myself an enjoyable upland smoke. Barely finishing that bone, I flicked the resinated rice paper 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 occassional 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 or Hall of Shades.

A large metalic blue shelled Beetle making it's way across the rock returned my sense of reality back to the matters at hand.

Was it a case of being much too whacked on booze and high-grade TRIP-Whoodee for going on four days, or was something very strange afoot ? Why couldn't I be like the other weirdo wild-trekkers and have an encounter with Space Aliens or Skunk Apes ?

And the Bear,, hopefully he won't cleave anyone's head while I'm gone. Then there was 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. Yet Soul Suckers have leave to hunt at will.


Pondering deeply I lost all track of time..

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, and in Claudia's case, 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 or worse - An Old Red One. Looking down I took notice of a smaller part of me that wanted to take a twist in a sleepingbag with this beautiful and mysterious woman, be she human or not. Being rather ripped on high-quality weed, my thoughts bounced about possiblities that made that smaller part somewhat larger. 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 mumuring from far below. I dismissed it as Stream Musik.

The near to final flashes of a Red Sun slowly sinking Westward slightly filtered in through thick uplanf growth and shadows grew deeper near abouts 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 destruction 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 young Oak growing at water's edge. A half eaten piece of grub lay on a small rock below the Tree. Seeing this I slipped the little Sharpfinger off my belt and replaced it with a larger sheathed knife from my pack. Having not unsheathed this weapon since a camping trip at Sherando sometime back, I drew and inspected the murderous 13" blade of watered steel set in a horn handle. I had bought it for 10 bucks at a flea market, but knew this fine Khyber Knife was the real deal, from the Hindu Kush and worth alot 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 nape hairs rose like a stray Tom-Cat. 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 was not at all Homo Sapien. I nervously pulled a cigarette out to hotbox me steady, 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 RJRenolds product/vice. After some minutes of swift, stealthy striding I came within earshot of shuffling feet and unintelligible murmoring my thoughts were probaly - 'What the fuck are you doing, man ? Just take another break and let them move on far ahead' Beside the urge to reach camp before Dusk brings gloomy uncertainty, another need drove me forth,

tracking,

A small hound trailing large un-natural quarry with no desire to yap at their strange shaped heels. It was the same inhuman murmuring I had heard from my lofty perch. It traveled on the breeze from around a bend, but it's source was blocked from my sight by a dark green tangle of dense foliage.

Getting off the trail and moving out abit I turned to move parallel with whatever was ahead of me. Depending on my woodkraft I trailed beside their noisy progress, but still could not see them and derived a small amount of comfort thinking 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 em back to Big Meadows or perhaps copping a good look-see at something which maybe I didn't need to. Not to overly brag, but compared to these loud creatures, I moved like an upland Buck, 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. Glad Flip wasn't with me clad in one of those bright blue shirts. I now had a good view down at the trail with 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 both nerves and already tight strings of sanity.

The fearful excitement I experienced made me shiver as if with a chill. At first I attemted 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, drinked and doped with back at camp. From what I could see these two were not all the way human. From a distance their faces appeared to be somewhat elongated, almost Musteline, reminding me of a Weasel or Mink. 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 weasel-shapped, high-placed ears that were a pale color inside and furry on the back. 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 unatural. I would expect to see something like this on a 4-way hit of blotter, but had gave up tripping sometime back.

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 Khyber 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 vison. 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 resored abit 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 good-sized 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 occured my thought concerning it all was - 'I've seen my fair share of weird shit in a life not so normal, not so tame, but what just went down was like looking deep into the septic tank of Scary Weirdness.

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 gully. 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 compainions 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 occured at the outcropping.

I really didn't want to see Whitey hacking somebody 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 sober 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 was asked to leave. Hopefully Bear could keep Denny and R.W. apart or else put them down.

Flip and I would not quaff heavily tonight 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 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 and careful I made my way down the scenic Appalachian Trail, back to camp..

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 gravel road. 'Cursed gravel' I thought and moved to road's side as to be more quiet.

The reasoning behind going out of my way and through the RV section could be summed up as simple curiousity. 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 the Dibble unobserved. They were all sitting at a picnic table, drinking beer and engaged in jabbering 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 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. The Bear offered a greeting growl and asked - "Where the fuck did you go ?"
"Oh just a few miles on the Appalachian Trail" Then I inquired on the whereabouts of the missing.
"Flip took Patti and Claudia 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. The Great 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, refering to the Khyber knife sheathed on my belt.

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

They halted their gambling as I gave acount 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 stone, 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 THAT FAR UP THERE TO see shit that wasn't there" Kinda 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 - "Goddamn ! some weird shit going down"
"Burned-out bastard probaly 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 upland breeze.
"Screw you Whitey, you drunken Tarheel, I know what I saw, plain as your goofy-ass self the last time we smoked !"
"OK 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 before throwing down a shot.
"Yeah, Henry told me about it once while he was sniffing glue. They eat essence and grow strong"
Shit Jim !" Whitey said - "The guy is a fucking glue-head !"
"Yeah, but his predictions always come to be" R.W. reminded.
"He asked the Horses to walk around in a circle, and they did" The Great Bear was refering to a night back in 1973 when Henry the glue sniffing Shaman along with Bear, Denny and 'Espo' were smoking hash beside a fenced-in pasture at the James River Hunt Club's stables and showground. Henry wasn't sniffing that night, but after taking a big hit of Black Moroccan hash he stood up and told the night-grazing in-season mares and studs -

"Merry-go-Round"

and to their surprise the Horses began a circular plod around the pasture.

Whitey drained another one of my ales, burped then laughed - "WereWeasels"
"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 an 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 vehicles 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 Sharpfinger after having refuse him the hanger. "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 hanging that murderous looking axe on a nail in the Tree next to his folding camping throne. Flip as always wore his fine Puma brand huntingknife along with a knocker. It was the heavy half of a poolstick 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 gouls and have done with it ?" then added - "It's not like they're gonna be missed in this world"
"Yeah hack em into chunks !" Whitey howled and Flip gave him a worried look.
"Oh I don't think that would go over too spiffy here at RANGER PATROLED 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 WereWeasels !" Whitey cackled - "They turn during a full moon, come to your camp during the wee hours of the morning with terrible hunger in their black eyes and then tear into the garbage" Even though this could very well be a precarious situation we had got ourselves into, I roared with laughter as did my companions.

We all needed to laugh and after my encounter with the Polecat People I 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 Axeman'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. The Great Bear shot me a serious glance.
"What ?" I asked
He quaffed a good measure of German 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 kinda hard to believe such a nice lady is somekinda 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 - "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 Flip's truck pulling forward then backing in.

Flip, always the gentleman, that is when ladies were present, swiftly exited his vehicle, dashed around to open the passenger door. Claudia slid off the seat and appoached our table with a graceful ShePanther-like stride. Patti followed bouncing as she moved. I didn't know all that much concerning how she carried herself as an adult entertainer, but here in the Blue Ridge Patti was as jovial as a happy child. She had bought us a bag full of Moon Pies and was now distributing these tasty 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 porkchops, 2 ribeyes, 1 Tbone, 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 replied. One thing we could always count on was Flip's sense of order when it came to camping. A neat freak he's always bring 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 upland 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 the 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 was none. Glancing over at Bear's great ax hanging from 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" The Great Bear then issued a short growl.
"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.

"Porkchop, steak or saaaausage ?" The Bear asked.
"Steak" Claudia replied, as did R.W., Patti, Flip, Whitey and I requested porkchops. Bear was going to save the T-bone for breakfast and enjoy porkchops and leftover hot sausage for his supper. Even with a lame leg, the big man needed alot of fuel.

Our grill at ready for coals and fire, The Great Bear thanked, then dismissed Flip from any further grilling endeavors. Soon the coals were blazing adding light to our camp..

Slinging out the rest of the warm ale I'd been nursing, I opened our propane stove and got it going as to heat up what was left of morning's coffee. Aside from our current situation I really needed a break from 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 the ol liver a break,something you should do every so often" Whitey beamed, drained his cup of my 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 liver shriveled sot"
Shaking her head, Claudia said - "I'd hate to see when you guys really get angry with each other" She then casted another glance at Bear' hanging ax.
"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 Becks beer and munching on a cold-hot sausage.

It grew darker, with a nice breeze blowing through our encampment into the woods behind us. Thinking to take advantage of wind direction, along with the scent of fire and grill smoke, I decided on twisting-up two good-size #s to enjoy before supper. I handed Flip on to light and fired-up the other myself. Oh that sweet and pungent first hit off that joint told the tale. This was probaly some of the best grass being smoked in Virginia at this time. The doobies went in opposite directions around the table and in scant time everyone of us were were upthere with the exception of The Bear. Atop alot of alcohol the weed 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 scintillant 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 sotted-up more than three days in a row"
Her eyes changed to a more firey hue - "So you going to be more lively tonight ?"
"Well I ain't getting shit-faced 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 boldly stared a hole through me. My left knee twitched as I expected her foot to come into play, but it didn't. No other woman had ever made me feel this way and inside my skull again were conflicting emotions which did stir. About her was a timeless beauty and not the surgery enhanced good looks of an aging Hollywood actress. The fire in those eyes, the open lure of her mysterious smile and the posturing of that voluptuous body made my blood boil. Every rich syllable that poured off her tongue like honey, every gesture and movement set Claudia apart from anyother woman I'd ever encountered.

Her strange beauty maddened rather than soothed me..

Dueling Dinnertime Dibbles



Breaking the spell with a hiss and crude grunt, I got up to take a piss, but knew my bravado was as hollow as an old clay pot. In evening shadows while drenching leaf litter there was a feeling of being drawn by the mysterious magnetism of this lovely enchantress. I could not fail to realize that my will power was being stretched thin and tight by those firey eyes. Although I was beyond the camplight and almost out of clear earshot, her musical laughter filled my head. I zipped it up and headed back. The shrill chirping call of a Gray Treefrog brought me back to better reasoning. Entering camp the aroma of grilling meat was on the breeze making me very aware of how hungry I had become.


While the coals were much too hot The Great Bear had fixed up 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 potatos 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 potatos 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 certain, the spell had been broken. I was beholding to the little Treefrog for this bit of recovery. 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 layed down his horn and popped open a Pepsi. R.W. on the otherhand was quite snockered, and getting more boisterous by the minute. I had hoped supper would of sobered him up some, but after watching him wash down bites with booze, I knew that wasn't happening.

"Somebody's coming" Flip's sharp ears had picked up footfalls from out on the loop road before the rest of us heard feet turning gravel..

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 adjusting 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 snapping back his knife sheath offered - "Get ye some vittles y'all thars plenty of taters and a few porkchops 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 epecially 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 could fail to notice R.W. cutting his eyes at Denny who had obviusly 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 sober enough to know The 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. was pouring down his gullet.

"Damn fine porkchop, Bear, I could eat two of these " Denny said going to work with, steak knife, plastic fork and teeth.
"Here you can have mine" I offered, having a porkchop 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 campbread.
"Patti, watching the love birds sneered - "Aww, isn't that cute"


Overly noticing their little public show of affection, R.W. had reached and was now passing his breaking point. I knew it was coming. I could see it in his eyes. Whitey grinned in expectation of what was to come while I thought - 'Not here, not now, not in front of strangers'

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

LongHunter wrote:

Her strange beauty maddened rather than soothed me..

listen to your gut instincts, LH, there is a REASON!

WineHippie wrote:

LongHunter wrote:

Her strange beauty maddened rather than soothed me..

listen to your gut instincts, LH, there is a REASON!

Spirit Animals, Medicine and gut instincts saved some of our bacon that night, we had thought.

feels like i at rocky horror picture show, midnight, and the audience is
yelling "can't you hear the scary music?" and soon it will be time to throw toast.....

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, R.W.'s altered emotions erupted. He slung a fork load of camp potatos full into his brothers face, then got off the bench in anticipation of Denny's next move. And move he did, flying out of his seat and straight at his brother. As Denny swiftly closed in shoulders swaying, setting his brother up for a right to the eye while feinting a left jab. R.W. stepped back stunned, until Denny landed another blow which grazed off his head. R.W. then delivered a few good hooks to Denny's mouth. Two ruby-like drops of blood found Whitey's shirt. Denny cameback and delivered a good 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. Denny doubled over, R.W. rained blows upon his brother's head. This continued until Denny, using his head as a ram, put 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 the scrap had moved away from our table.


Turning to The Great Bear who was watching this fight while wolfing down hunks of buttered campbread, I asked - "Don't you think it's time to cut into that dance ?" To my surprise he replied - "Oh let em 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, obiviously enjoying this fracas from his ringside seat. He went as far as re-submitting his earlier wager - "10 bucks on the Poodle" He waved a bill 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 all of us away !" At this point I was ready to quell this nonsense myself.
"Alright, alright" The Bear laughed, sitting his drinking horn down and slowly rising. Limping over to the dueling Dibbles, Bear grabbed a handfull of Denny's shirt, then yanked him off his brother with such force, Denny flew through the air a good few yards landing none-too against an Oak trunk and into a crumpled heap. R.W., half blinded by sweat, dust and a bleeding brow came off the ground and landed a blow square on Bear's massive chest. The Bear quickly responded with a wicked sledge hammer-like jab to R.W.'s jaw. His legs turned to rubber and he pitched face forward onto the hard ground with a thud. We knew Tuesday Night was over for the dueling Dibble brother.

The Great Bear then turned to Denny who was attempting to rise and ordered - "Drag this dumbass to y'all's tent, you dumbass" Battered and somewhat punch-drunk Denny tried to pull his brother along - "A little help here if you don't mind" He mumbled through mashed lips to which 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 on to bed.
"He'll feel that in the morning" I chuckled
"Oh he's hurt alright " Whitey laughed and went on - "I got 10 bucks here that says he'll be hurting more in the morning"
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 fratured jaw tapering off over the next few days, or unless he seeks medical attention" Then he gave it to me - "Back to you BlackJim"
"Thank's Whitey, sounds kinda rough, should the viewers keep all their pets inside ?"

Having quite enough of the Heathen Experience, Yvonne bolted off the bench with a disgusted look upon her face sharply informed us - We didn't come here to watch drunk RedNecks fight it out !" Then she told Holly to - "Come on !" Holly sat transfixed by our usual party-time going ons. She no doubt, up to now had lived somewhat of a sheltered life, probaly 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 and made fur fly.
"Come on Holly, lets go !" Yvonne ordered after taking notice of Bear's cleaver hanging there, blade reflecting the fire.
"RedNecks ?" Denny repeated before stuffing some porkchop 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 'Muffin' and reduce her to crumbs. Instead she bid our two new guest a steep jagged goodbye - "Carry your asses !"
Yvonne's jaw dropped, then she casted a glance at Denny, blood oozing from his mouth and nose, shoveling camp taters down his gullet, then by chance looked at The Great Bear who was quaffing warm 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 this time a cold Pepsi, 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 quicked 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 booze bag. 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 abit from the alcohol's sting, Denny asked if I could pour him a cup of dark 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 comfirmed all bets had been off before the fight started.

Noticing Claudia fuss over Dibble'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..