TheBanyanTree: Life Stories 24

[Tobie Shapiro]

October 9, 2000000000000000000000006


Dear you be,

	I have my list a mile long of people and entities to call. 
There's the phone company, PG&E(Pacific Gas and Electric), the 
newspaper, EBMUD(East Bay Municipal Utilities District), the bank, 
the insurance company who will have to figure out how to insure this 
house while it's being gussied up for sale, and also the possessions 
in the new rental house, Verizon, the U.S. Postal Service, my 
computer genius who will help wire us up in the new house, LMI.net 
who is my internet service provider (isp), Meyshe's school and his 
transportation services.  There are more, I know, and my little list 
grows to a big long list.  Today is Monday, not the best day to start 
phoning entities, because all the lines will be busy.  But I can 
always try.  While I'm on hold I can burn CDs.  Villainman tagged 
half the CDs and if I want to continue enjoying them, then I need to 
burn them.  What a jolly fun time will be had by some.  Here is a 
life story from the first marriage era.


                            *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

The Hillside Strangler

	Dweller and I went camping.  We took the VW bus, but this was 
before we had a double bed in the back.  So we brought two sleeping 
bags that we zipped together into a double bed.  At night, we spread 
out the sleeping bag on the blanket of leaves that had built up in 
drifts in this wooded area.   Far from the road, in the thickest part 
of the groves of trees, we set up our night life: a couple of flash 
lights, a couple of pillows, shoes to set on the edge of the sleeping 
bags so we could walk from here to there if necessary.  We climbed in 
bed and stared beyond the tops of the trees where a billion stars 
were sewn into the fabric of the dark sky, shining, flickering, the 
milky way clearly visible, no city lights to drown out the stars.

	Then we heard a strange sound.

	"Crunch."  Leaves under foot.

	"Crunch," again.  Then two more.  "Crunch, crunch."

	There was something walking out there.  Petrified, we could 
only imagine what sort of creature would lurk among the trees in this 
remote forest.  It had to be an axe murderer.

	We hastily pulled on our clothes inside the sleeping bag. 
You cannot meet the axe murderer, or other certifiable citizen of the 
world, naked.  You must be clothed.  We groped for the flashlights, 
but were afraid to use them.  We didn't want to startle a deranged 
mind with a flood of light.

	"Who's there?"  Dweller called out.

	"Can we help you?" I added, ever optimistic.

	No answer.  We lay there frozen in fear.  There was a long 
silence.  Then, "Crunch.  Crunch."  This was a deviant mind, someone 
crazy enough to trod the perimeter of our campground, pulverizing 
dried leaves.  Maybe he was on his way to our car.  We couldn't do a 
thing.  Helpless against the darker nature of humankind.  We shivered.

	"Crunch."

	"Crunch.  Crunch."

	Dweller asked again, "Who is it?"  I asked again, "Can we help you?"

	Silence.  Dead silence.

	We tried to keep vigil, pinned our eyes open, said our 
prayers.  But the time between leaves being crushed under foot grew 
wider and we grew tired.  Somewhere in these dire circumstances, we 
fell asleep and didn't wake up until the morning.  The dawn was sweet 
and the air clean when we woke up.  It was a new day.  Then, 
"Crunch".  We both recoiled, looked out into the forest to find the 
source of the noise.

	"Crunch, crunch, crunch."

	There, not twenty feet from us was a family of deer, treading 
carefully through the leaves, delicate, cautious, frightened of the 
human scent.  To us city dwellers it had not occurred that it might 
be an animal.  Something so natural.  No, we were civilized.  Way too 
civilized.  Incapable of imagining a bear, or an hippopotamus, or a 
family of deer stepping nervously by our claim of territory.

	"Crunch".

	"Crunch crunch crunch".

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-- 




Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net