Chapter 5

Hairy

OW! I tried to move but a hand pressed lightly against my chest. A good thing it was lightly ... a full push would have proven too much for a simple OW. I glanced. Where ever I was it wasn’t in my Dodge.

From out of nowhere a deeply tanned man said, “Ah ... good. We can begin.”

Not that I recognized the language ... it was guttural and coarse.

He grabbed the lodgepole pine splinter sticking up and twisted.

“OW fucking OW!”

“Hold him,” he said to the unknown hand.

Darkness.

The splinter wasn’t a splinter ... it was the three foot end of one of my tipi poles ... and it had transfixed my leg. I am supposing he pushed it through ... supposing ... because it was no longer sticking out of my thigh. The darkness lifted ... I could see again.

“Why didn’t he pull the branch out while I was out?”

The voice attached to the gentle hand said, “I don’t know. Ask him.”

“Yes, ask me,” the tanned man said.

“Why did you let me wake up before you subjected me to such pain?”

“If you were dead, I wasn’t going to bother,” he said.

“Makes sense,” I said. “But if I was dead you’d have to take it out before you buried me.”

“Buried?” he asked. “What is that?”

So ... I explained.

“A hole in the ground? and waste all the meat?” He questioned. “How barbaric.”

“I believe I’ll pass on the meat entrée tonight,” I said.

A troubled sleep ... sometime after two am I woke. Looking out the window ... there were two moons.

Time to go.

I sent my mind elsewhere.

When I came back to me ... I was lying on a tanned animal skin robe looking up at a familiar night sky as the Milky Way spun slowly across the night. The weather had a soft feel to it. Dry and warm but with that hint of coming rain. I nudged the hip lying next to me.

“Woman,” I said.

“Unh.” She batted at me.

Another nudge ... a little more forceful this time.

“UNH!” She said. “What?”

“Woman, go close the flaps,” I commanded. “It’s going to rain.”

She staggered up and headed for the door.

I heard the two poles slide across the cover and neighbors asking.

“What’s going on?”

“HE says it’s going to rain.”

A flurry of activity ... more flaps closing. A few thuds of rock on wood as anchor rope pegs were tightened. The village was preparing for a storm.

Stamping and hooves running together in the distance.

The door skin slid away and she backed in. A fine teen buttock gleamed.

“And make up the fire,” I said.

“Did you release my pony?”

The nearly nude girl turned and nodded ... Definitely NOT Cora. On my other side a figure sat up ... the robe slid off erect pointed nipples. Round full breasts with no hint of sag ... not Cora either.

Hmm An improvement over the last dream.

“Come young sister, back in bed,” said the off-side girl.

Sisters

Yes. Much better.

Faint thunder ... distant lightning ... freshening breeze ... all foretelling heavy winds and rain.

When we chose this place many summers ago it was because the little plain in the bend of the river was surrounded by much taller bluffs with many trees. Some of the trees bore witness to the fierceness of the storms but none if the trees in the little plain had been struck ... or scorched by the great grass fires that seemed to run in cycles.

Wood, grass, water and the great shaggy animals that we depended on for life.

Perfect.

The first close flash and thunder and I was covered in shivering girls.

Perfect.