“Who’s been drinking my happy juice? You know it makes you ikta,” Duane said. He couldn’t raise his voice at them, not after what they’d been through.
The Bigfoot continued to dance. Teena begged with an outstretched hand for Duane to join her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. She skipped over to him and grabbed hold of his hands, tugging on them. She shuffled her feet and swung her hips in tune with Nancy Sinatra singing — “These boots are made for walkin’.”
But Duane didn’t feel in the mood to dance. He was dog tired, hot, sweaty and stinky after all that running. All he wanted was a long hot soak and put his feet up for a couple of hours before he ventured out that evening for some illicit beers and a singsong at Earl’s.
Duane kept hold of Teena’s huge hands and began to dance go-go style, but he moved too slowly to the rhythm. His dance movements were no more than a few shuffles of the feet and a slight sway of the hips.
Teena thumped him with her hip, giggling, “Fsfsfsfsfsfsfs.” She grabbed Duane before he fell and pulled him to her. She kissed him on the cheek, “Wuv my sweet Doowane … woo … wooo … woooo.”
Duane kissed her pert snout. “Love you too, Teena.” He stopped dancing and gave her a big hug and got a face full of her massive suckle-bumps.
Joee came to a stop when he saw Teena deliberately rub Doowane’s face in her hairy boobs. He gave a loud growl directed at Duane.
“Graaaaaarrrrrrrraaaaaarrrr.” He stomped a foot with a heavy crash. “No touchy my Bigfoot Babe.”
Zola seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to the discord between Duane and Joee. She continued to go-go, her mind and heart obviously somewhere else.
Duane saw the jealous glint in Joee’s eyes and noticed his greasy hair had spiked up. It wasn’t his fault that Teena still had the hots for him, Duane thought.
While Joee did his jealous lover thing, Duane recalled that momentous day — the day he and Teena almost got hitched. He had glugged a little too much of his father’s stash of fermented Jooobaaa and went total WereBigfoot into the forest.
At that time, he had no idea he was taking the lovely hand of Teena to be his wife. How could he have possibly known that by eating a bark full of the freshly picked Jooobaaa — yellow wacky magic mushroom, offered to him by Teena all covered in flowers and dripping with red berries between her legs, was saying “I do” Bigfoot style.
Duane fondly remembered how he had met Teena the WereBigfoot in the special clearing where the magic waters flowed gently by — a place where most Bigfoot did their thing. After the raw Jooobaaa had taken effect she shoved him to the ground and pounced on him. Teena was most put out when he refused to go any further. He just wasn’t ready to settle down at the time. Fortunately for Duane, refusal to bonk Bigfoot style was also divorce Bigfoot style.
Duane shrugged his shoulders at Joee. “Can I help it if Teena still woooo-woooos me?”
Joee clearly understood the situation. He gave another growl, “Gaaaaarrrrraaaaagggrrrraaaaa.” He stomped a foot. “My babe … hands off!”
Teena stood with legs apart and clenched fists, growling back at Joee, “Eeeeaaaarrrrrreeeeaaaa.”
Duane thought he might be witness to a Bigfoot brawl, something his cabin floor would never be able to withstand. There again, a Bigfoot brawl was nothing more than a lot of rough and tumble and the odd punch, with a few bites, hisses and spits. He’d never seen any Bigfoot get nasty with one another. Not even over a mate.
Having become one with the Bigfoot, and being privy to their behavior, Duane knew they were a very peaceful society. They had been chosen due to their genetic disposition for loving, and boy oh boy, they sure knew how to do plenty of that. No wonder the Bigfoot likened themselves to the sixties flower-power era.
Unfortunately this meant they would not roam far enough to mate with Bigfoot of other tribes as they were happy with their lot.
But the male gene was in short supply. Despite mating at the drop of a hat — which meant females didn’t have to be in heat, the females of the species didn’t get pregnant so easily.
There was also another reason for the shortage in active males — they sometimes migrated south to Florida when they got a hankering to see distant relatives, courtesy of his father’s Bigfoot Mobile. Sam told Duane on that momentous day he became The Guardian how it always made him chuckle seeing the looks on drivers’ faces as his Bigfoot Mobile drove past with several elderly Bigfoot faces peering at them. And once said male Bigfoot got a taste of Florida’s balmy weather they never came back.
Duane snapped out of his contemplations as Teena tugged on his arm. But her woooo-woooo gaze was focused primarily on Joee, who was still looking menacingly at Duane.
Duane looked nervously at Joee, and wondered if he was going to be chased around the room like the last time Teena got frisky with him. Joee had marked his territory by spraying the armchair with his musk mixed with piss and love juice. For days afterwards the cabin stunk bad, and come to think of it, still stunk bad.
Moments later, Duane’s question was answered. With a sigh, he watched helplessly as Joee aimed his thruster at the armchair Lou had recently sat in, and sprayed it vigorously with his musk. There was nothing Duane could do. To anyone else the rotten eggs and garlic stink would have screwed up their olfactory system for many days after. Not for Duane. He was used to it in more ways than one.
“Now, Joee, what have I said about spraying the furniture. Smet!” Duane wagged his finger, although he couldn’t get the Bigfoot word quite right. How to say smet and spit through his nostrils at the same time was beyond him when he was in human form.
Joee laughed, shrugged his shoulders and turned round to face Duane. He aimed his thruster at his love rival and growled. “Want!”
Teena and Zola wriggled their hips to the music and giggled, “Fsfsfsfsfsfsfsfs.”
Duane quickly stepped back a pace. He didn’t want to be sprayed with Joee’s pungent love juice.
He wagged his finger again, “Bad Joee.”
Joee gave a snort. He lowered his hand from his thruster and started to dance with Teena and Zola, grinding his lower regions against them.
Duane saw the amorous glint Joee was giving Teena. It took little guesswork to know what Joee was thinking. The dance split up as Teena and Zola left for a corner of the room. Duane looked into Joee’s confounded stare. The sound of whimpering alerted Duane to trouble. He turned to see Zola being comforted by Teena. Aw, poor Zola — the day had been too much for her, getting shot at and injured by hunters.
He walked over to her and stroked her head. “Zola sad?”
Zola gave him her pity-me big blue eyes and nodded. “Zola in wuv.”
Duane was overjoyed and yet concerned. She had just turned sixteen and he knew all the male Bigfoot were taken. So who could she be in love with?
“Wuv Boo,” she said with a pout.
Duane frowned as he received images from Zola’s mind — clear images of Beau trussed like a turkey at thanksgiving. Had Zola taken Beau or had she found him wandering in the woods?
Zola erupted with wails of despair. “Weeeeeeeee … weeeeeee … weeeeee.” She ran to an opposite corner of the room and crouched down, burying her head in her hands and wept.
Teena rushed over and comforted her.
Joee gave Duane a perplexed look. He shrugged, “Zola got Bigfoot Babe blues.”
Duane sighed and agreed with a shrug. Could his life get any more complicated?
Chapter 28
The Guardian takes a Long Trek
DUANE TRIED TO haul Zola to her feet but she remained deadweight, slumped in the corner of his living room. “Zola ikta?” he asked, mopping his brow as if sick.
Zola shook her head no and wiped a tear from her eye. “Wuv hurt.”
Duane could feel his concern growing, “Zola show Doowane where Boo is?”
Zola’s eyes bugged out as her secret was now well and truly out. Nodding yes, she grabbed hold of Doowane’s hand and allow
ed him to pull her to her feet.
Teena and Joee exchanged concerned looks. “Trouble with a big T,” they said in unison.
Oh yeah, big trouble if Beau blabbed his brains out about his little ordeal, Duane thought. Just suppose people believed Beau’s story this time? Crap! The woods would be fit to bursting-point with people out looking for Bigfoot.
Zola heaved a great big sigh and tugged on Duane. “We go.”
“Okay we go.” As he spoke it dawned on him he was going for a long hike in the woods and he’d make better progress over the terrain if he changed into a WereBigfoot. With that thought in mind Duane realized he’d need a change of clothes when he rescued Beau. He rushed across the living room to his bedroom.
****
By the time the four Bigfoot — one with a rucksack slung over his back — arrived at Zola’s wuv nest deep in the woods it was late evening, the light was fading. Doowane knew he’d have to stay the night and make it back to his place the next day.
Zola sobbed as she pushed aside the bushes camouflaging the entrance for Doowane to enter.
Doowane hesitated as he changed his appearance back to a human. The evening air on his bare skin, soaked in sweat, made him shiver from head to toe. He tossed his rucksack on the ground and quickly pulled out his clothes. A few moments later he was dressed in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers and ready to enter Zola’s cave for the first time.
The Elders had chosen this cave system as it was coated with a luminous metal that prevented detection with heat-seeking cameras from satellites. This he also knew would render his sixth sense erratic at best when inside.
Wide-eyed he peered into the semi-darkness of the cave to see Beau tied to a boulder with vines and a gag over his mouth. At this point Duane wasn’t any the wiser as to whether Zola had taken Beau or had she found him wandering in the woods? Zola was certainly withholding the truth from him.
The teenager looked desperately at Duane as he struggled to be free of the vines. He muttered and wriggled.
Duane looked curiously at Zola. She had a sheepish look on her face that told him she had been a very naughty girl. Had she given him the Jooobaaa, he wondered?
“Has Zola used the Jooobaaa?” he said in a not-too-angry tone of voice, wagging a finger at her. It then occurred to him to help Beau.
She sniffled, “Zola been bad.”
Duane rushed over and removed the gag from Beau’s mouth. “Are you hurt?”
Beau spat bits of cloth from his mouth. “I’m okay … I guess.” He glanced curiously at Zola then backed away at the sight of the tower that was Joee.
Duane glanced behind him, “He’s harmless.”
Joee bared his big yellow teeth and growled.
Duane removed Beau’s restraints still wondering if Zola had abducted Beau or had he got lost in the woods and Zola had rescued him. But Beau had been tied up which implied she’d taken him, Duane reasoned.
Duane looked at Zola then to Beau, “Did Zola take you at the Big X?” He knew he needed to be real careful what he said to the teenager.
“Yeah,” Beau replied, tugging himself free of the loose vines.
“Zola very bad,” Duane said a little more sharply.
Zola bleated miserably, “Weeee ….woooo … weeee.”
This was the first time he had gotten annoyed with his Bigfoot friends. She had done a very naughty thing. This could screw up everything.
Zola looked at Duane with tears in her eyes, and mewled pathetically, “Weeeeeooooo … weeeeeooooo.”
Duane was immediately sorry for telling her off. He turned his attention back to Beau and wondered if the teenager was aware Zola was a real Bigfoot.
“She’s not a real one, you know.”
Beau looked keenly at Zola. “If she ain’t real … then why are you talking like that? Uh-uh, I think she is for real. That ain’t no costume.” He looked up at the massive Joee then back at Duane. “She carried me through the forest for miles and miles. No human, male or female, would have the strength to do that.”
Yeah, well, the dumbass was right about Zola being strong, Duane thought with a scratch of his ear. He blew out his cheeks and gave a long sigh. What now? Continue with the façade or should he tell Beau the truth? And if he told him, could the dufus keep a secret?
Duane contemplated the matter with a scratch of his ear. Even if Beau talked and said there were real Bigfoot in the woods, not many people would take him seriously — surely not with a father like Walt. But suppose they did take him seriously? There was nothing else for it, Duane knew he’d have to fess up to Beau and hope Beau would see things his way and want to keep the Bigfoot a secret.
“Okay, she’s real,” he admitted. “So the big question is … can you keep it a secret? You know if you talk people might believe you this time. If you care what happens to the Bigfoot you can’t blab about them. You know what will happen to them if they’re captured. Ever seen King Kong?”
Beau looked thoughtful and was silent for several moments. “Um … I guess I do care,” he said sounding a little put out. “What a bummer … for the first time I’ve been abducted by a real Bigfoot and I can’t blab about it.” He shook his head. “That sucks big time.”
“Best you tell people you got lost in the woods or aliens abducted you. Don’t mention Zola.” Duane scratched his ear. “Damn … this is real fucked up. The FBI are involved and if they think you’ve wasted their time you might be in a shit load of trouble.”
“Shit … that is fucked up.” Beau looked concerned at Zola. “I think you’ve upset her.”
“Good. She’s been a very bad girl.” Duane looked at Zola as she sobbed. He hated to see her so upset but she’d done a very bad thing.
Duane was by nature a forgiving person, but this was almost beyond fixing. And if things weren’t bad enough, what if Zola had given Beau the Jooobaaa?
“Hey, Beau, did Zola offer you some yellow mushrooms and weird-tasting shit?” Please say no.
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Bummer!” Duane was well and truly annoyed with Zola for what she’d done. And he hated the feeling. He looked closer at Beau in the gloomy cave and noticed how hairy he was. Crap!
“Why … it was just some mushrooms and tingly stuff that made my head swirly like too much beer,” Beau explained with a perplexed frown. “What does that … what you call it …?”
“Jooobaaa!”
“Right, Jooobaaa … whatever … is it poisonous or something?” Beau started to scratch his body. He felt his face. His eyebrows were real bushy, ears were tufted and hairs had sprouted all over. The back of his hands were covered in long blond tufts. He flashed a quizzical glance to Duane. “I’m turning into a Bigfoot, right, Duane?”
“Well yeah … depends.” Duane rolled his eyes. “Well what’s done is done. You’re now a WereBigfoot like me, chosen by The Elders.” Duane removed his clothes and went through the change before a startled Beau. “Now I am Doowane and when you turn your name will be Boo.”
“Awesome dude … what about The Elders?”
“They’ve been taking us for years now and altering our genes to save the Bigfoot. The lights … you remember the lights?”
“Oh … you mean those lights that took my old man up at the Big X?”
“Well they took you too, dufus.”
“That’s so cool.”
“You’ll change into a fully-fledged WereBigfoot when your body’s ready. It depends on how much Jooobaaa you’ve had. You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Do I still have to go to school?”
“Yep! You must still lead a normal life … hide what you are … be vigilant when the urge to change comes over you … not like my first time.”
“Yeah, that football match was so awesome seeing you go all Forrest Gump like that.”
Doowane turned to Zola. “I’ll have to take Boo back home first light tomorrow.”
Zola looked sadly at Boo and burst into fresh tears. She hunched her shoulders
and turned away from him, collapsing in a sobbing heap.
“You’ve upset her, Duane, I mean Doowane.” Beau reached out and patted Zola’s shoulder. “I think she’s kinda cute for a Bigfoot Babe and blonde too.” He frowned. “About that, one moment she was dappled like my cat and the next she’s a shimmering blonde and smelling like Collette’s place.”
Beau sounded quite concerned, Doowane thought. Probably the Stockholm Syndrome. What a real no-brainer. He raised his eyebrows and watched Zola skulk away to a corner. And now his big Bigfoot secret would be all over town if Beau didn’t keep his mouth shut or the dufus went WereBigfoot in public.
Images of a King Kong film he’d seen came into his mind. He likened his Bigfoot to the big ape. The very notion that his Bigfoot friends would end up in a cage, poked and prodded by scientists and put on show in a circus made him feel sad.
Tears filled his eyes at the thought of his Bigfoot friends being carted away, never to roam the forests and be free. Nature was cruel, but not as cruel as man to other living creatures. Tears trickled down his face. He looked at Zola and went over to her and put his arms around her shoulders. “Doowane want hug.”
Zola looked at her friend and smiled. She brushed a big hand over her eyes to wipe her tears away. “Wuv Doowane,” she said pulling him close to give him a big Bigfoot hug.
“Better get some rest now … we’ve a long trek ahead of us at first light,” Doowane suggested.
Chapter 29
Lou is Lost in Translation
DOOWANE SPOONED NEESHA in her cave and tried to tune into Virgil and Lou. He had to know what they were getting up to, but the cave’s effect on his sixth sense just wouldn’t give him a clear signal. All he got was scattered transmissions, out of focus and nonsensical. It was difficult to make sense of what little he received.
Agent Virgil Tuckerwood was reading a crime novel in bed at the Grace Hotel. It was a habit of his to get a couple of hours reading before he turned in for the night. On the nightstand was a cup of valerian and vanilla herbal tea to ensure he got a good night’s sleep. Today had been long and unpleasant. Could tomorrow be any worse of a nightmare?
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