Rather Be Fishing, page 22
I ran over to him and grabbed the thing, pulling it off.
It landed with a thud, and I shot it. It was a dead-on chest shot.
The thing looked at me like it couldn’t believe I killed it. That made two of us. I was having doubts I could kill one. When we found out there were three, I wasn’t feeling good about the odds at all.
I shot it again, just for good measure.
James was a mess and I’m sure I didn’t look much better. Most of his wounds were on his arms. He must have used his arms as a sort of shield, which probably saved him a lot of pain. There was one deep cut on his chin.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, you look like shit.”
“Well, you’ll be a few weeks before you’re ready for your close-up too.”
He laughed and we walked inside.
I thought Joe was going to lose it. He was talking so fast that I was certain his head would pop. The main gist was him yelling at his wife to get the car. I guessed we looked too bad for her ‘at home’ medical attention.
We were rushed into the car and driven to a local hospital.
I was wondering how he was going to explain this one and was surprised that when he told the truth, the doctor just nodded. Let me clarify, I assume he was telling the truth, because I heard them both say Chupacabra.
As the nurses were working on us, the doctor listened to Joe tell the whole story, and then the nurse who was dressing my boo-boos looked at me and said, “bien trabajo monstruo cazadores.”
We stayed in the hospital a few hours and then we were released to Joe, who seemed pleased that we were okay, and even more pleased that we had killed all of the beasts.
James drove home with me, and since we were both feeling poorly, we shared the driving duties.
We didn’t say a whole lot to each other when we got home other than good job. It was time to sleep.
The final score was:
Flying gray alien dinosaurs ~ Zero
Monstruo cazadores ~ Three
Part Nine
Trouble in the Swamps
A week after returning from Mexico, I was still in need of serious rest. For the most part, the scratches healed, and I was free from any infection. I spent most of the last week lying around, not even feeling up to fishing.
If the calls were going to keep coming in at this rate, then I was definitely going to need to hire some help. I thought James would be a good option. He had most certainly proven capable to handle himself when faced with the unbelievable, and that was the most needed qualification. His size helped too. Despite having some nasty scratches himself, he seemed unfazed.
We both decided some antibiotics would be a good idea, but other than that, you wouldn’t have known we had been through the same type of experience.
He had been staying with me since we arrived back from Mexico. He didn’t say much about why, but my guess is when you get that many people in a house, it could be a bit uncomfortable. What was neat was that in his time here, in addition to helping me get better, he fixed almost everything that was in need of repair. He even added an extra hammock to the backyard, and built me the grill pit I always wanted, but never had the motivation to build myself.
A few times he mentioned working on what was once a mother in law house out back; it was now a tool storage area. It was just starting to strike me that he might want to stay. I had been living alone for quite a while, and had to carefully consider what that would mean. I didn’t think it would change things too much, as he struck me as the kind of person who liked their alone time as well. I had to admit, I started to feel like he was a friend.
We were certainly the odd pair of guys. I was short and chubby, furry and funny. He was tall and muscular, smooth and sardonic. Though we were humorous in very different ways, they did complement each other. Where I was a smart ass through and through, and often took people to task, he was an intellectual snob, who took people to task without them knowing it. I could see that if we were in a public setting, the two of us would never stop being a source of amusement for each other.
Before we had a chance to talk about the in-law house, a call came in. It was a woman who spoke so slow I wanted to strangle her. Each word had about seven or eight extra syllables in it, and by the time she finished a sentence, I had already forgotten how she had started it. The gist of it was that she grew up in the swamp, judging from her voice I believed her, and there was a swamp monster of some sort killing animals and leaving them on her doorstep.
I personally didn’t see the problem with that. Not only had it not tried to attack her, it seemed to be supplying her with food. But that is just my take on it, and hers was that there was something near her home that was big and mean enough to kill gators. She wanted it gone. I could see her point. Nevertheless, I agreed to go and have a look at it, and kill it, should we find anything.
I briefed James on the case and we started packing.
Despite being a little tired, and still having some sort spots, I was feeling okay enough to start a case. I couldn’t even venture a guess at what we were dealing with.
More often than not, the leaving of dead animals on a doorstep is a feline behavior, but I couldn’t imagine a cat, even a large wild cat, taking down an alligator.
James agreed that whatever it was, it had to be strong and fast to kill a gator.
“I don’t imagine it’s as fast as that Mexican Goatsucker,” he said.
Horrible memories came flashing back.
“I surely hope not. Could you imagine something strong and that fast?”
“I’d rather not,” he said, followed by, “Shall we?”
We decided he would drive the few hours down. He was the new guy, and I think trying to impress me, which is okay with me. I didn’t feel like driving anyway.
“So, what do you think it is, boss?” he asked after we hit the interstate.
“Not sure. We could actually have a real monster.”
“What about a big cat?”
“I considered that, but I don’t think it could take down a gator.”
“Good point. There isn’t much that could take down a gator.”
“A monster,” I said.
“Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t get too arrogant. I have seen things that could take down an army of grown men.”
He gave me a look that said, ‘don’t bullshit me.’
“Okay not an army, but I have seen things that could make short work out of killing us.”
He nodded and we decided there wasn’t much point in speculation at this time. We couldn’t form a plan of destruction until we at least caught a glimpse of the thing. To kill time, we turned on the radio and set it to scan, so we could play the name that tune game. He rocked on the rock stations, and I did pretty well on the classic stations. Both of us were at a loss on the hip-hop stations. After that wore on us, we opted for small talk. We talked about all the things you are not supposed to talk about. I never really understood why you shouldn’t. To get to know a person, you really do have to hit on subjects like that. He felt about the same as I did in so far as it being a stupid rule.
I think politically we would never agree. I was on the, I don’t vote so you can’t blame me for the jackass everyone else voted for, fence, and he was of the, if you don’t vote you can’t bitch, belief. I think we did agree that party voting was crap, and that people who base all their beliefs on that of their party were nut jobs. We also agreed that the government fell woefully shy of being perfect or even democratic for that matter.
Before we finished our religious debate, it was time to concentrate on where we were going. We had been off the interstate for a few miles now and the road had just turned from a smooth paved surface to a bumpy dirt road. Looking around, it was clear we were getting closer. When you looked out the window all you could see were trees, the swampy kind with roots half above the ground.
“The directions say we should stay on this road until it dead-ends,” he said.
“Then what?” I asked. “Is that the point where we follow the tracks in the grass back to her hut?”
“Sure is. I guess we’re almost there.”
“Oh boy,” I said.
About ten minutes later the road ended. I looked out my side and could see what looked like a biking path.
“Anything on your side?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Hang a right, we have a foot worn or maybe bike worn path over here.”
We drove down a bit and I was starting to become concerned about the tires getting stuck.
James looked at me and chuckled. Apparently, I hadn’t been the first to think that, or the first to drive down here. In front of us were wood slats laid across the ground, forming some sort of a bridge over the muddiness.
Even on the makeshift bridge, I would be happy to be over what looked like a mud bog ahead. I tried not to think about what would be living in there.
Ahead a few feet I could see our destination. I wouldn’t really call it a house. Hell, I hated to call it our destination. Imagine this if you can: a stick house set up on a platform, with a crap bridge leading to it. It looked more like it had been thrown together, rather than built. The bridge, even though the size made it clear it was a foot bridge, looked as if a bird landed on it, it might collapse under the weight.
“Can she really live there?” I asked.
James laughed and smiled. “Sure, man, don’t you ever watch that odd civilization channel? People can live in the most dangerous jungle areas in nothing more than a straw hut.”
“Okay do me a favor, no matter what, we get this job done in the fastest amount of time.”
He agreed. I don’t think either of us liked the idea of sleeping in a shack out in the swamps. This was the type of setting that when you see it in a movie, you wonder why the people didn’t just turn around and say, ‘fuck that.’ Of course, the obvious answer is that it is in the script for them to make bad choices no matter how smart they are, and besides, if they did leave, there would be no movie.
We drove until it was clear the rest of the way needed to be handled on foot.
I suggested we get our stuff now, rather than coming back out after dark. The sun was already starting to set. He agreed that I had a good point. There was just no telling what would be out here at night. We each had one bag, so it wasn’t like we would be struggling along, which was good because as we neared the bridge thing, I was getting pretty nervous about crossing it.
“You think we should do it one at a time?” I asked.
He took a step onto it, and did a little bounce thing, something that made me seriously doubt his intelligence. “Nah, it should hold.”
“One thing you might do well to know about me is that the word should scares me.”
“Tell you what man, if this should fall, I will get you out, okay?”
I said, “sure,” but I still held back and watched him first. The little wooden structure, which was held together by ropes, seemed only to have minor complaints in the form of a little swaying. Once he was halfway across I started making my way over. I could just picture what would happen if it gave. I would go tumbling down and land directly on a gator’s nest or a mean snake full of venom that would kill me before we could get back to civilization. In all, it couldn’t have been more than five feet, but when you are terrified it may as well be miles. I tried to make my way as quickly as possible, without holding onto the ropes, or shaking it too much. Apparently, I hadn’t crossed it as quickly as I had thought, because by the time I made it over, he was sitting on his suitcase, waiting on me.
I was glad he hadn’t knocked, and started with introductions. It showed he had respect for me even though he could have easily taken over because of the way I was feeling.
I caught my breath for a minute or two, and then walked over to the door. I swear it couldn’t have been much more than a piece of plywood on some hinges. Taking this into consideration, I knocked lightly.
The woman who opened the door was far worse than what I had expected. She looked to me like granny death or something, as fragile as the house. It was no wonder she talked so damn slow, she must have been four-hundred years old. Her hair was white and a right mess. My guess she didn’t wash or brush it at all. Her skin clung to her bony frame in places and drooped in others. I would be willing to bet that the tannish look was from a layer of dirt that had bonded with her skin on a molecular level. Despite the color, you could see through it and her veins protruded. Her eyes were yellowed with thin brown iris surrounding her wide pupils, and looked too big for her face. She looked up at me, which made her really short, and reached out to shake my hand. I shook it very gently and was surprised by the strength of her grip.
“I’m Mike, and this is my partner, James,” I said and raised my voice. I’m not sure why I did that, other than the fact I must have assumed from looking at her, she was hard of hearing.
James said hello and she shook his hand too.
“I’m Maw and there’s no need to yell. I can hear just fine,” she said, slowly.
I was only a little embarrassed. Raising my voice was moderate compared to any of the comments I could have made about her or the house. There was something sweet about her that not only caused me to hold my tongue, but also seemed to cause my mind not to have the thoughts to begin with.
Maw showed us inside. No amount of TV viewing could have made me believe that people actually lived this way. In the main room, the first thing I noticed was that the house was short. If James jumped, he would have knocked his head on the ceiling and caused the whole place to fall apart. There were a few spots on the ceiling that had pieces of wood nailed up to cover holes. They weren’t even sealed and you could clearly see that the rain had still been getting in, regardless of the boards. The floor was just wood with the occasional rug tossed down and the more occasional hole. The holes weren’t so big that you would fall into them, but they were plenty big enough to let in bugs and snakes. She had a very well-worn couch and chair, and off to the side was a pair of cots that looked old enough to have been crafted by the pilgrims. I guessed, and she confirmed, that was our sleeping quarters.
She showed us the rest of the house, which consisted of a kitchen and a washroom. The kitchen had a very old sink and a pit/cove type thing with a pot hanging in it. The washroom had a big metal bucket and a smaller bucket, the toilet, and a piece of broken glass nailed to the wall.
I felt sorry for the old woman. No one should have to live in this kind of poverty. I wondered just how one comes to live in a place like this. I couldn’t imagine her or her husband or family building this place and thinking how lovely it would be. Maybe she had been a victim of homelessness, and wandered across here. I would guess in that instance, this might seem like a step up.
She told us that she was going to make us dinner and then we could talk about her problem.
We offered to help, but she wouldn’t let us. Even though she talked really slow, something about her tone indicated that we wouldn’t be cooking no matter what we said. My mom used to use the same tone, and when she did, no one would argue with her.
Instead we waited in the main room.
We had only talked for a little while, when James decided he wanted to look at the outside of the house. I agreed to go along, even though I didn’t care to be outside with the snakes, gators, and bugs the size of small children.
After looking at the supports, he told me that it was probably the only part of the whole place that was built right. That was good to know; at least we wouldn’t be blown over by a strong wind.
“The flooring is secure except the few worn spots that have rotted through. It’s my guess, the weather and traffic inside has just worn them down. Either way, they need repaired.”
Normally, I would have said we were here to kill a monster, not to fix a house, but this time I didn’t. There were two reasons. One, if my granny had been living like this, I would expect if someone came out, they would at least patch it up. Two, selfish as it sounds, holes in the floor would allow things to get inside while we slept.
“I replaced the plywood in my van and there’s a hammer and some other tools in the back as well,” I said.
I went back inside to see if I could help her with anything and James headed back to the van to get the stuff he would need to fix the holes.
She had two things going, a pot of some food and a pot with some of the coffee I had given her. She wouldn’t let me help her with either, and I didn’t want to talk about the case until James got back, so I just walked around, looking to see where all the holes were. Most of them could be covered with a small piece of wood. There were only a few spots that would need a piece on the top and bottom.
When James got back, I made myself useful by holding things in place for him, while he worked. He did a nice job, considering the tools he had to work with. There were only a few spots that she could stub her toe on, and he moved the couch so that it would cover them. She came out from the kitchen to tell us it was ready and noticed the couch had been moved.
“What have you boys been doin’?” she asked.
No one beside my dad every called me a boy anymore. It was sweet. When he showed her what he had done, she started crying and I think, like me, it took a lot of restraint on his part not to do the same. I wished we could have done more and I had the feeling that before we left, anything James could fix, would get handled. It was too bad we weren’t plumbers or electricians. I forgot to mention that there was no electricity, but then again, I didn’t expect there to be any out here.
We all sat in the main room to eat. I’m not sure what she had made, but I will call it stew. It had a thick, brownish broth and some meat in it. I figured it best not to ask. It tasted good and judging by her age, she knew what she was doing out here. The coffee was great too. Once we finished, it was time to get to work.
“How long have you been finding dead animals?” I asked.
