Bubba and the Curse of the Boogity

by C. L. Bevill

  Sheriff John came to stand next to Bubba. “Say, boy, I think y’all need to git goin’. I don’t expect there was a crime committed here unless that director lady wants to press charges for trespassing.”

  Marquita shook her head and accepted a hand from Jesus to get up. “Just promise me you all will Tweet about this or Instagram it or post on Facebook except leave out the part about people wanting revenge. Just say there were Boos galore. Mystery. Suspense. Maybe the Boo is real. Maybe we just hit on something really freaky. Tweet to your little heart’s content. Free movie tickets to everyone who Tweets, and don’t forget I have t-shirts, too!”

  Miz Demetrice nudged Bubba. “We all need to go. Come on. I got the limo. We kin fit in that. It’s supposed to seat ten. I think we kin git everyone in it, and ifin we open the sunroof, we kin fit Dan in, too.”

  “How was pretending to be the Boo going to git you a bigger part in the movie?” Brownie asked Tandy.

  “Bleep! Bleep! BLEEP!” Tandy screamed. She snatched off her Boo mask and threw it at Thelda who caught it and held it protectively to her chest.

  Brownie shifted his phone around in his hands while patting his shirt and pockets. He finally muttered, “Where’s my notepad when I need it?”

  “Don’t you have that notepad app on your phone?” Big Joe asked. “I do. I use it all the time. My wife would kill me dead ifin I dint use it.”

  “Notepad app,” Brownie repeated. “Next time.”

  “Okay shoo then,” Miz Demetrice said, using her hands in a shooing motion in the direction of the limousine. “Delmont would only let me use it for two hours on account of that other thing tonight. Remember, everyone?”

  Everyone quieted down and surreptitious nods met Miz Demetrice’s question. Bubba glanced around suspiciously, and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be at home around 8:30 pm on this day after having been kept busy by David and the loonies. David had obviously gotten derailed by the S.S. Stormspike, and the loonies had gone along with his Boogity-Boo trapping plan instead.

  “Great horned toads of Africa!” Bubba exclaimed. “We better go before my wife climbs out of that bed to find me.”

  “Thou withered puke-stockinged boot licker,” Thelda said. “What about thee?” She pointed at the last Boo’s location in the remaining punji trap. That person was remarkably quiet and still in the darkness as he/she stood in the hole and listened to them unmask all the other Boos.

  Several flashlights came around to point at the hole, and nothing could be seen from the angles they were using. There was only a pool of blackness there and the knowledge that someone was still there, a very quiet, very motionless someone.

  “Who is that, anyway?” Marquita asked. “Risley and Simone are working the telephones at the hotel, and the McGeorge is Skyping with half of Hollywood, so it isn’t them.”

  “And it ain’t Hornbuckle, as we’ve said,” Bubba added.

  “One of the extras?” Brownie suggested.

  “Judge Craaater,” Jesus intoned loudly. “Or Jimmy Hoooffa?”

  “It’s Elvis Presley,” Cella said. “Elvis always wanted to be a bigfoot or maybe it was an FBI agent. One of those, I’m fairly certain.”

  Sheriff John touched the handle of his holstered service weapon.

  Celestine said, “Wait, it’s moving.”

  Bubba took a step toward the hole and stopped when a low, eerie howl came rolling out seemingly in response to his movement. Everyone seemed to hold their breath for the longest period of time while waiting for something to happen. All at once it was like a tremendous gum bubble popping, and the gooey material went everywhere with everyone wincing away at its impact. Except it wasn’t a gum bubble and there wasn’t a gooey material involved.

  Instead, there was a rumbling growl that exploded into an incredible roar and out of the hole jumped a tall figure that flashed flaming red eyes at them. It crouched there for an endless time making a noise that would have sent shivers down the strongest individual’s spine.

  “Holy poopcicles,” Tandy said, taking a step backward. “That’s…”

  “It’s…”

  “No, couldn’t be…”

  “I’m…”

  The dark figure lunged warningly at them before immediately pulling back, twirling, and disappearing into the darkness.

  Everyone was left standing there listening to the pounding footsteps and rustling brush as the being headed down the hill in an evident hurry.

  “Goin’ toward Sturgis Creek,” Bubba said shakily. “You know, I think we should go now.”

  “I’d like to go with you,” Marquita said. “I’ll pick up my Range Rover tomorrow when I have some company in the daytime. Bright light of day, too. Full sunshine. No shadows.”

  “I’ll come with you to git my truck then,” Bubba said.

  “Me, too,” said Tandy. “You know, Marquita, I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  “I understand, Tandy,” Marquita said quickly. “Let’s talk about it in the limo or in one of the police cars. Hell, I’ll ride with the game warden if he’ll have me.”

  “Was that…?” Schuler asked. “Shouldn’t the game warden guy go after it?”

  Caleb said, “Who, me? Ain’t nothing in the books about bigfoot or bigfoot-like creatures, so no, I am not going after it. I’ll give my flashlight and animal tranquilizer gun to anyone who has the cojones to go instead.” He waited a moment. “No? No takers. I didn’t think so.”

  Bubba cocked his head and listened as tremendous footfalls stomped through the deep forest in a rapid manner. He didn’t doubt that the Boo was headed for familiar ground and was leaving Foggy Mountain due to the pesky humans.

  His mother grasped his arm and he gasped.

  “Time to go, Bubba dearest,” she said, “don’t you agree?”

  Bubba did agree.

  Chapter 27

  Bubba and What Happens

  After the Boos Got Exposed

  The events at the Snoddy Estate weren’t merely a spectacle; they were a meteoric extravaganza of epic proportion. People in Pegram County would be talking about it for months or even years. A band played country music. The merry-go-round was merrily going around. There were dozens of people talking, playing, eating, and generally socializing. There were long rows of tables with what looked like tons of food sitting on them, and people helped themselves liberally. Barbeque grills smoked, exuding the air of pure smoky charcoal that made everyone drool even if they’d just eaten. A juggler on stilts waltzed around the crowds, and a mass of children followed him excitedly. Pink and blue balloons adorned every free space, and the entire area was a billowing mess of party excitement.

  Bubba should have known something was amiss when the limousine started passing cars parked along the side of the road fully a mile away from the Snoddy Estate, but it was at that precise time that his mother started discussing how motherhood was going to impact Willodean and how Bubba needed to be supportive. (Upon reflection he realized that his mother had been deliberately deflecting his attention, but hindsight was always 20/20.)

  “Lack of sleep, feeling of inadequacies, hormones going to hell in a handbasket,” Miz Demetrice said. “All perfectly valid. You need to step up your game. You should be treating her like you think the sun came up just to hear her crow.”

  “Thou pragging mammet,” Thelda added helpfully.

  “Willodean’s a tough cookie,” Celestine said, “but even tough cookies can crumble. Evan helped me all the time. I remember the time I had a C-section and—” she continued on with a story of birthing horror that made Bubba want to clap his hands over his ears.

  Because all Bubba could think of was Willodean and her health, he deliberately glanced around the limousine to get his mind off of all those things. He didn’t know exactly how they’d done it, but in a vehicle that dated from the early 1980s, they’d fit Bubba, his mother, Thelda, Jesus, Brownie, Dan, the clerk from the Ramada, Cella, Celestine, Marquita, Tandy, and Schuler. Then they’d picked
up both Lloyd Goshorn and Newt Durley walking down the road. Bubba might have been forgetting someone because it was more than a little cramped, and the car was originally only meant to fit ten plus the driver. (Even Delmont had to allow someone in the front with him, and it had ended up being Newt Durley because Newt had apparently fallen into a pile of cow manure on his wild and rambling escape from Foggy Mountain, much to Delmont’s detriment. But Newt had won because Delmont wanted Newt to ride in the trunk, and Miz Demetrice thought that was inhumane.)

  Bubba asked for a cellphone but Miz Demetrice pooh-poohed him saying that they would be home in no less than five minutes at that point, and he could talk to his wife in person.

  When they finally pulled up to the side of the mansion, which had been difficult because there were hordes of people enjoying the festivities, they all came tumbling out of the limo like the clown car at the circus. The average onlooker would be amazed that that many people had been in a regularly sized limo.

  Brownie immediately waved at his mother who’d appeared almost instantaneously at their arrival and then he’d spotted Janie. Both children vanished like David Copperfield was present and they were the Statue of Liberty.

  Virtna’s volcanic gaze locked on Bubba, and his cousin-in-law adjusted the baby she was holding in her arms as she glared at him. Then she mouthed one word to him that he readily understood. “Tomorrow,” she said very calculatingly.

  Bubba thought he might be in trouble and vowed to avoid his cousin-in-law on the morrow or possibly give her some 19th-century piece of furniture to placate her. Whatever worked.

  “Since you’re running late,” Miz Demetrice said as if he had just strolled in from hitting all the bars in town, “we need to get on with the main event.”

  “Where are the acrobats?” Bubba asked dryly.

  “Around the side of the house where Willodean kin see them,” she answered promptly. “Boy, go and see your wife and wait by the dang window. The blind is shut right now, but when I yell, go ahead and open it.”

  Dan dragged Bubba along with him as they threaded through the crowd. The problem was that people kept stopping them to talk. Everyone from the mayor of Pegramville to Doc Goodjoint to Roscoe Stinedurf with two of his wives tried to wiggle a bit of conversation from the big fella. Dan simply said, “He cain’t talk right now. Wait a few minutes, and he’ll be back down.”

  “Why do they have camouflage paint on their faces?” Bubba heard Doc ask Miz Demetrice from behind him.

  “Oh, you know, stuff and whatsit,” Ma said easily because she never minded a little obvious subterfuge. It was even possible that she didn’t want other people knowing about her role in the entire sorry dupe-Boos-at-the-old-Hovious-place affair.

  “And why are you wearing sequins?” the doctor asked. “It’s not normally your preferred attire. Also, dear lady, I hate to be the bearer of ghastly information, but those people are wearing gorilla suits.”

  “Ain’t gorilla suits,” called Brownie from somewhere within the crowd.

  Bubba didn’t hear the answer to that one as he finally made it into his own house. He was met by his hound and his two sisters-in-law grinning at him. Precious knocked against his leg until he gave her a quick scratch. They directed him upstairs, and he happily threw himself down at the side of his wife’s bed and patted her hand. Precious immediately threw herself down on his ankle.

  “I was worried,” Willodean said, but she didn’t sound that worried. “Did you know you have brown, green, and black greasepaint on your face?”

  “There weren’t any dead people,” Bubba said. “There were Boos. Brownie set up traps to catch the Boos, and Ma pretended to be a bigwig to draw them out. It was actually a pretty lame plan, and I’m surprised it worked. Kind of like one of them games we used to play. Mousetrap or such. I’m really surprised we didn’t accidentally break someone’s leg.” He thought about it. “I should have thought that through, but I dint let Brownie put real stakes in the punji trap, so I should git credit for that. He wanted to, you know. He had sharpened ten stakes before I stopped him.”

  Willodean immediately perked up. He helped her adjust the pillows behind her back and she asked, “Boos? As in plural?”

  “Four of them,” Bubba said as he both rubbed his wife’s belly and his hound’s belly simultaneously.

  “Four.” Willodean pursed her pretty red lips. “Four? Really.”

  “Four,” he agreed. “Marquita, Tandy North, and Schuler, the head makeup guy from The Deadly Dead.”

  “Oh my,” she said. “Did they say why?”

  “Publicity, revenge, and revenge,” Bubba answered. “Although I don’t git how Tandy is goin’ to git anything out of it. It just seemed a little petty on her part.”

  “Wait, you said four and that’s only three you mentioned.” She held up her fingers and counted them off. “Marquita Thaddeus, Tandy North, and the makeup guy. Three. Who was the fourth one?”

  “The fourth one got away,” Bubba said uneasily because explaining that one was akin to reporting seeing a UFO in the newspaper. “I believe it was a soul just trying to see what the fuss was all about.”

  “Dressed up as a Boo?”

  “Somethin’ like that. Don’t expect he’ll come back to Foggy Mountain anytime soon.” Bubba sighed heavily and felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. He was home. Everyone he loved was safe. No one had died. He hadn’t even found a corpse once. It was good. He laid his head on his wife’s thigh and muttered, “I don’t think I care to repeat any movie bizness.”

  “There are no guarantees in life,” Willodean said philosophically. She also said, “Ow,” and swiftly put both of hands over the swell of her belly.

  Bubba’s head shot up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m having those false labor pains,” Willodean said. “Some women get them, and it’s still, what, ten days until the due date.”

  “Eleven days,” Bubba corrected absently. He felt cold seep through him because he suspected that was what she’d been hiding from him from before. “Braxton Hicks? You bin drinkin’ enough water? Goin’ to the bathroom enough and all that that the doc talked about that might cause those?”

  “Oh yes. Water, Gatorade, decaffeinated tea. Bathroom is a check.” She relaxed and added, “I am hungry. I want some cake, though. I saw it earlier on one of the tables. Ice cream, too.”

  “I saw Doc Goodjoint,” Bubba said. “You want I should grab some cake and him? Not necessarily in that order.”

  “No doctor unless it’s an emergency,” Willodean said soothingly. “Those practice labor pains aren’t an emergency. Besides our OB-GYN is running around here somewhere. Dr. Button is over there at the carousel with her three children. And as for the cake, maybe a little later.” She rubbed her tummy idly.

  “You want I should kick all these people to the curb?” Bubba asked seriously. He could do it, too, no matter what his mother said or how angry people got.

  “We don’t have a curb,” Willodean said, “and also I think something big was planned, so be patient. Your mother couldn’t have known all this was going to happen. Besides she dropped the party like a hot potato to go help you out like only a mother can do, plus she dragged my mother into it. Mom really wanted to see what you were doing up there. Miz D left Miz Adelia in charge, and Miz A has been directing folks like a general in the military. She deserves some extra stars.”

  “Okay,” Bubba said reluctantly. He relaxed for the moment knowing that the moment of brief respite couldn’t last. And it did not.

  “BUBBA AND WILLODEAN!” came so loudly that it felt like the floor shook. His mother was using a bullhorn.

  “There’s our cue,” Bubba said. “You ready?”

  “Conservatively speaking,” she answered. “Remember no matter what happens I love you.”

  “And I love you, too,” he said, and he pulled the shade. The roller snapped and flew up in a mad scramble. Both of them leaned forward to peer outside and saw a mass of people
staring expectantly up at them, eerily silent. Furthermore, they surrounded a large blue-and-pink ribbon tied into a bow the size of the chandelier in the main foyer of the Snoddy Mansion, which was pretty dang big. However, the ribbon sat on top of a vehicle. Bubba used both hands to raise up the window, and Precious tried to climb over him to see what they were looking at.

  Is it a bone? Precious thought. Then she thought, That’s not a stinkin’ bone. Stupid humans. Maybe I’ll pee on it later. No maybes. I will pee on it later because it’s in my yard.

  “Wow,” Willodean said. “Is that…?”

  “We both knew your Jeep and my truck weren’t goin’ to be good for transporting babies,” Bubba said, awed at his mother.

  “We used the baby shower as a show to make enough money to pay for the SUV,” his mother announced through the loudspeaker. “It’s a brand-new Ford Explorer. It’s got GPS in it. It’s got a baby seat already installed to boot. Nearly everyone in the county pitched in. There were also some people from Dallas and a bunch of other places who sent money once they heard about it.”

  “We love you guys!” someone yelled.

  “And you’ve got the worst luck, Bubba, so you needed a new car!” someone else yelled.

  Willodean began to cry, and at the same time people began to applaud, clearly happy to have been in on the gift and not clapping at her tears.

  It took Bubba a long time to get his wife to stop crying. In the meantime, the music and the carousel resumed as did the buskers and the distribution of food. People stopped to admire the sparkling new SUV parked where Bubba and Willodean could see it from the second-floor window.

  Bubba arranged the pillows on the bed so that they could both comfortably look out the window at what had been so generously given to them. (How on Earth was he going to write hundreds, if not thousands, of thank you notes?) The lack of reliable and safe transportation had been a problem that Bubba had been considering previously. He had his eye on a used sedan with a good safety record, but he wasn’t certain where all the money was going to come from.