The Creature

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III

When Sally was particularly edgy, which was quite frequent during this time, I would often feel I had to leave when Kong and I were enjoying staring at each other. At this time he would follow me to the car and I would get in it and drive away leaving him behind with a stupified expression which bothered me. Sometimes he would hang onto the top of the car. Then I would get out and with much gesturing and hollering would send him whimpering into the woods in fright. Anytime I wanted to get rid of him I would wave my arms, jump up and down like a comedian imitating a karate expert and shout loudly. Kong would scream and run away. The only voice sounds I ever heard him make were the whimpering and screaming. He also made a hissing sound but it was not of vocal origin, then there was also a kind of stomach rumble or murmur which was more on the order of a giant cat purring.

I did wish to tell someone about the creature but whom could I trust? It was also necessary to have a companion to cover for me with Sally. My choice was Joe the printer, a friend whom I occasionally beleaguered with confidences. I asked Joe to meet me one afternoon after work. This was in late October and the turned leaves were beginning to fall.

Joe arrived at the college in his car and transferred to my station wagon. I had purposely set up the meeting at a time when Joe would have just finished work and wouldn't have had time to take a bath or clean up. Our conversation went something like this. I opened with these remarks.

"What the hell did you take a bath for, you didn't have to, we're not going to a party, just out to the Diggins to have a beer and for you to see the progress I'm making on the pond."

"I always shower after working in the print shop, I knocked off a little early so I could clean up, what the hell do you want me to go through life smelling like a horse."

The conversation continued on that line all the way to the cabin. When we got there I took a couple of apples I had on the back seat and stepped from the car hollering "Kong — food." Joe stepped from the other side and asked if I felt all right and maybe we should have stopped off at the local hospital. Kong did not appear.

I reasoned that Joe smelled too good and that something should be done about it and tried to get him to jog around the Diggins with me but he refused on the grounds that he was pudgy and not an athlete. He took a position on the picnic bench as I made a few rounds of the cabin with each return into his view I motioned for him to follow my lead but he wasn't having any of it. I can still see his expression in my mind, him sitting there with his hands on his knees and looking at me in wonder. After all, he did work a full day at the print shop and all I did was face a class of faceless students. Paper weighs a lot and lifting reams and boxes of reams onto presses and off presses builds strong muscles. Joe estimated that he moved a minimum of four tons of paper a day during his busy season.

Joe did agree to come over to the cowfield and see the cows with me. He complained all the way down the hill and made light comments about how ever since he was a boy he always wanted to see cows and he missed being down on the farm. He went on like this and I mostly ignored what he was saying. We finally got to the barbed wire fence which we climbed through, each holding the top wire for the other.

Once in the cowfield I led Joe through the areas with the most cowshit on the pretense that I was spotting out mushrooms besides trying to spot the farmers prize bull which was somewhere in the field. Joe was very dainty and he missed every pile of manure. He kept complaining about the amount of manure and the smell and I argued that we in our civilized way were not aware of the relationship we have with farm animals. Nobody stops to think that hamburger comes from cows and a cow on the hoof represents food on the table. He didn't buy my philosophy and continued to dodge the cowshit.

Finally I said to him "look you're going to think this is crazy but would you mind stepping in cowshit with both feet." He agreed that this was crazy and that he wouldn't do it. I tried every ruse I could think of including to throw him down in it if he didn't step in it hut he still didn't go along with it. Even after I told him that I would buy him a case of beer he refused. When I said "please" and that I would do him a big favor he still refused.

After much promising of just about everything he agreed to step into a pile of cowshit if I did so too. He did this gingerly with both feet and much mumbling. We walked across the road and back up to the cabin, both of us reeking of the smell of manure. When we got to the cabin area I hollered once again "Kong — food" and clapped my hands which sometimes worked instead of hollering. Joe hollered into his cupped hands "what the hell is kongfood?"

Kong didn't show and the sun was setting rapidly. I got Joe a beer which he drank hurriedly slopping it down his front. "Let's get the hell out of here," he said, "I got to get back to the shop and get back to work." I tried to get him to stay around just a little while longer but he refused and insisted on our going.

I wiped my feet in the grass and got into the car. Through the open window I warned Joe to "clean the cowshit off your shoes before you get back into my car." The only thing he kept mumbling on the way back was "you crazy sonofabitch."

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