A Stranger in Town Episode Two

Fred allowed himself to be led into a scruffy back room. He moved numbly, his body betraying no sign of the tumult within.

Collapsing on the bed, his body feeling otherworldly, he struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Slowly, the tension from his meeting the huge ebony man seeped from him. Fred's vertigo passed, and his head grew heavy and sank into the pillow. Somewhere a harpist(?) strummed a lullaby.

Methodically, Kindly Bob went about the business of the tavern. He seemed to know everyone, calling each by name. He was treated with a measured deference, not ordered around; rather, the patrons asked politely for refills or snacks.

He was jovial enough, and tended to all their needs with an unobtrusive efficiency. He did not seem a servant.

Patrons would request his opinion, or perhaps solicit a recommendation regarding this or that. The resulting conversations were short, yet amiable; more often than not the exchange would end with a bemused chuckle from one or other patron, and frequently the customers were left scratching their heads over some comment he made.

The evening had worn into night, when the huge man reentered the bar, though apparently not through the front door.

He approached Kindly Bob. He wasn't just tall, though he was in fact in danger of scraping his head on some of the lower beams. He was bulky, with an unnatural wideness that somehow escaped looking obese. He maneuvered across the floor with no particular grace, yet managed to evade the haphazardly strewn chairs and tables, and the odd outstretched arms or legs of patrons in various stages of inebriation.

He had acquired a cloak in his absence, and it wafted this way and that as if animated, appearing at times to guide him across the floor. The whole effect caused any conscious patrons to turn away vaguely unnerved, rather than stare in curiousity.


"Well, Sylk," said Kindly Bob, "he doesn't look like much. What's your take?"

"That's for people with more intelligence than I to determine."

Kindly Bob regarded Sylk from beneath a furrowed brow. From the top of his yarmulke to where his neck was enveloped by the turtle neck, he could detect no sign of false modesty in his unlined expansive face. Just that preternatural alertness. He wondered momentarily how the turtle neck sweater could expand enough to get over that head.

"More intelligence that you? Humph."

"I am a laborer only," said Sylk. "As you well know."

"No, I don't know at all," replied Kindly Bob. "I've seen much more than I care to remember, and the part about you being some dumb laborer seems to have escaped me."

"Stout," said Sylk.

Kindly Bob drew the black bitter liquid into a pint glass, chewing thoughtfully on the ends of his moustache. He held the glass up to the light, noting its opacity, and finding it oddly appropriate.


The patrons thinned out, and finally Kindly Bob helped the last one to the door with a "Get along home, Billy." He barred the door, and turned out all the lights save the one over the bar.

Sylk roused himself from contemplating the residual foam in his nearly empty glass.

"2 a.m. Wake him."

"Now?", asked Kindly Bob. "He's only been down a little while."

"Ask him if he dreams; let him sleep if he has no answer. Bring him to me if he does."

Kindly Bob made his way back to where Fred lay dreaming.


The oppressive tropical heat made breathing difficult. The over moisturized air seemed to be oozing. And the insects! The little sugar bees just simply climbed all over you, and tried to get up your nose and into any other handy orifice. What Misery!

The little party of Europeans were being led by a small local Native, about 4 and a half feet tall. Barney couldn't decide if it was a small man or just a boy. In fact, except for the very young and very old, all the natives appeared to be the same indeterminate age.

They had been hacking through underbrush and through vines as thick as their own forearms, and everyone was tired, hot and becoming very irritable.

"Why are we using hand tools to get through this?", Barney wondered aloud. In response, a purple flower grew up quickly beside him, opened to reveal little snouty mouth pieces and whispered, "They haven't been invented yet." 'Oh', thought Barney, as he watched the flower progress through its accelerated life back into fertilizer on the jungle floor.

A low rumbling sound made everyone stop in their tracks and look around for the source. They weren't near any falling water, and it didn't seem like rain or thunder. The sound grew in volume until skshcchhhhCHCHCHboom BOOM, it shredded in a violent paroxysm of sound, followed by complete silence.

Everyone stood in a half crouch, shoulders hunched in anticipation of an unseen blow. Slowly the usually unnoticed buzz and hum and sceech of normal jungle life returned.

In the distance, a chain saw started up. But, they hadn't been invented yet...

to be continued Episode Three