Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Honobia - Chapter 3

We'd have to worry about camping arrangements later. I had to literally shake my head to get the images of the past ten minutes out of my mind's eye. The slick roads and fog were where I needed to focus my attention. There would be plenty of time to try to grasp what just happened after we made our way down from the mountain.

As we headed south toward Idabel, with Jared and Clay following behind us, Cody and I sat silently for a few miles. Cody finally broke the silence as he grinned and said cheerfully, "We're going to a Bigfoot meeting!"

As we drove the hour and a half down to Idabel, Cody and I replayed every moment, every nuance of what the ladies told us. I wondered what Clay and Jared were thinking as we made our way to the separation point of Idabel. We couldn't help but laugh about what happened and hoped that Jared and Clay really did understand that this was just not something we could pass up.

After we parted ways, Cody and I discussed how we would kill time. We still had a good five or six hours until our meeting. Our meeting. We decided that we'd set out to see all sorts of things in southeastern Oklahoma, so we'd just see more before we headed back north.

About 15 minutes west of Idabel was the Wheelock Mission Church: the oldest church in Oklahoma. Wheelock Mission was also an academy for American Indian girls. While we were there, it began to rain again. Being in this place, with the cold rain didn't dampen our spirits. It didn't even wash away what was in the back of both our minds. I kind of felt sorry for Wheelock. I felt sorry that I wasn't enjoying it the way I would have if I weren't so eager and scared at the same time to go back to Honobia later that night. I felt sorry for Wheelock that it wasn't enough for me. I realized it was probably irrational to feel sorry for a place: it has no feelings. But really, the whole of the day seemed irrational, so I decided that I didn't really care. Feeling sorry for an inanimate object seemed to be the least of things that others would deem me crazy for thinking or doing today.

The only thing that seemed to capture my attention was when we discovered the old cemetery beside the old church at Wheelock. The gates to drive into the cemetery were locked, but the fence was low. Those that know me know I fretted for several minutes, weighing the pros and cons of jumping the fence. By the time I made my move, Cody was already on the other side, several feet away, reading the headstones that were still legible after all the years.

Being there, in the midst of tombstones well over a hundred years old, gave me the same feeling as when I stand at the edge of the ocean. Small. Insignificant and important all in the same moment. I wondered what adventures some of these people had. I wondered what they'd think about us going to a Bigfoot meeting.

By the time Cody and I hopped back over the fence to get in the car, the week of camping, the day's events, the rain, the fog, the weight of what was to come became palpable. Cody and I were determined to continue to find adventure, right up to the 7 p.m. meeting, even though we were both growing weary, neither wanting to admit it.

We decided that there'd be all kinds of stuff to do near Broken Bow. At the least we could go to Beaver's Bend State Park. On the way, we saw a sign that directed us to a wildlife refuge to the east of Highway 3. The right hand turn we took ended up being more than just a turn off the road. It was a turn in our friendship. I can honestly say that no friendship is stronger than after you have a fight and come out on the other side laughing. Like forging iron, really.

What's funny in hindsight is that our fight wasn't over someone making a wrong turn, or over someone thinking they were right and the other "knowing" they're really wrong. As we drove and drove and drove, unable to find the wildlife refuge or another sign to help us find our way, the tension grew in the car. Not from our inability to find where we were going, but over someone taking the lead! I wanted to know what Cody thought we should do. He wanted me to be a woman about it and make a decision!

Somehow we ended up on the muddiest roads I've ever seen. Clay mud. Thick mud. The kind that can get a little Saturn car stuck quickly. The worse the roads became, the less we spoke to each other. AGH!

In silence we drove. The only sound from me was asking to check his side to make sure I wouldn't get stuck. The only sound from him alerting me to mud I may not have seen. Which road should I take? He wouldn't say. Should I turn here? He wouldn't say. He wasn't doing it to be stubborn (well, a little maybe). He was convinced that I was capable of making my own decisions and could get us out of there. In hindsight, he was right, but in that car, on those roads, in the rain, I was ticked!

We finally made it back to Highway 3. We both rode in silence still. He took a nap and I fumed. We still had a good hour to drive to make it back to Honobia and it was about 5:30 now.

As I drove toward Honobia, I felt as if two entities were warring. One drawing us in toward the small community center in the middle of the clearing, the other begging me not to go. I still had the childish notion that were about to be sacrificed to sasquatch. An offering from the community so he'd leave their loved ones alone. Besides that, I wanted to cry! We're about to have the best story ever and we weren't even speaking to each other.

As I turned off of Highway 3 onto 144, with darkness encroaching, I was getting even more melancholy with the fog and the drizzle: everything seemed eery. Cody seemed to be awake then, but still silence. Then as quickly as we'd gotten angry with each other, it passed, as though it hadn't happened at all when Cody said, "This is creepy!" Haha. Indeed.

Only then were we able to laugh at what we were doing. BAH hahahah! We laughed so hard I cried. Maybe it was tears for the stress, the sadness at our fight and now the hilarity of our situation. We were driving BACK to Honobia. For a meeting. A Bigfoot meeting! It was only then that I confided to Cody my fears about being sacrificed to the beast. We both laughed even harder at that thought.

With each mile that we grew closer to the meeting place, my heart raced faster, giddy with excitement of the unknown. The left hand turn back down the only paved road in Honobia was almost more than I could bear! The sun had long since set and the only light was from the two lone street lights near the old schoolhouse that served as the community center. There were a few cars here already.

We decided that even if we didn't believe Bigfoot existed, why chance it? We looked at each other and reiterated our promise from earlier: no camping in Honobia.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Don't Kill the PM

My friend and co-worker, David, has begun creating a comic of his (and our, I guess) experiences in various Web-related roles through his 15+ years in the Web world. Enjoy!

Don't Kill the PM



Ya, we know there's a typo. I'll re-post once it's corrected, but wanted to go ahead and share.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Honobia - Chapter 2

As Cody headed toward the edge of the woods and I toward Jared and Clay's truck I was replaying the past 5 minutes in my head. The interval between pulling up to the Honobia Community Center and the point at which all of our weekend plans changed seemed to take only an instant, but also moved in movie-like slow motion.

When we pulled up to the Community Center and were unable to convince Jared and Clay to get out of the truck, and were unable to get the community folks to notice us, we took note of the only one even interested in us: the little boy with the giant moth. This moth was the size of a dessert plate, no lie! And it was just resting in the palm of this boy's hand, as though whoever cast a spell on the town's people, as they all went about their business without even a sideways glance to the strangers in town, cast a similar spell on the moth. As the people went about sawing and hammering and chatting with one another, so the moth was content to lie in the palm of the boy.

As Cody and I were looking in the old schoolhouse, feeling like we were spectators in a theater, the actors oblivious to the audience, the boy was the only one to speak to us. He showed us his moth with father-like adoration. As he was talking to us, I was afraid that his speaking to strangers was a bad idea, even though I was the stranger. Completely unprovoked, he confided that he knows where Bigfoot goes. What? Cody and I tried not to make eye contact, but this is WHY we drove to Honobia! This is why we drug Clay and Jared here, prolonging our arrival in Shreveport: Bigfoot. Not to see him, of course, but to hear the stories.

His mother appeared at the open door of the schoolhouse--not out of concern for the strangers that were speaking to her son, or because she heard the fanciful stories he was telling: she just happened to pass by. The boy introduced us to his mother. She was friendly. She was also from out of town visiting her husband's family and helping out with the construction on the building.

Cody, ever inquisitive, asked her about the work being done, we were passing through (that's a stretch!) and heard that there was a festival here. As the boy and his moth waited patiently, his mom said the words that changed the course of my and Cody's weekend plans. "You comin' to the meetin'?"

"What meeting?" I am still not sure if it was Cody or I that verbalized the question burning in both of our minds.

"The Bigfoot meeting, " was her reply. I was dumbfounded. Did I hear that right? And as if Cody could read my mind, hearing my question, I heard his reply with his eyes, lit up like a kid at Christmas. She must have said what I thought I heard. :-)

"Oh, Bigfoot meeting? We didn't know about it. When is it?" Cody, trying to be as casual as a pair of sweats, asked for the both of us.

"Tonight at 7, I think, but my mother-in-law knows more. She's kind of in charge of it. She's back in the kitchen if you wanna ask her about it."

My jaw dropped in my mind, but not physically. I had to keep my cool. It would be unfair of me to inadvertently pass judgment on their strong belief that the things they've experienced are attributed to Bigfoot's existence.

I eyed Cody for some sort of guidance. When he entered the building, I followed. We found our way to the back of the building and found who seemed to be the matriarch of the town. We asked about the meeting her daughter-in-law alluded to, and she confirmed a 7 p.m. start, right here in the kitchen of the community center. While we were both full of questions, our minds aflutter, we managed to control ourselves and just find out the nature of "the Bigfoot meeting". Up to this point (all 2 minutes since hearing about the meeting) we weren't sure if it was a meeting to go find him, a meeting to debate the merits of having faith in his existence or even a meeting to offer up some poor wayward travelers to the beast as a sacrifce to keep their town safe. That last option was the one that kept nagging at me. I think I watch too much science fiction. Still, it would always be at the back of my mind.

She told us that the meeting was to look into "startin' up a Bigfoot club". Apparently a deputy sherrif in a neighboring county was going to talk to us (she said "us"! Does that mean we're welcome to come????) about his efforts in locating Bigfoot. It then occured to me then that Bigfoot is always mentioned as a single entity, a proper name. If he existed, then surely there were more, but I mentally shook the thought away. I needed to focus on matter at hand: there was meeting. to start a club. and we were invited!

As she bid us farewell and safety until we met again at 7, my mind raced and I'm sure my eyes were darting about, searching the floor for answers as we headed back to the side door of the old schoolhouse. What would Clay and Jared say? I knew they wouldn't come back for a Bigfoot club meeting, although Cody and I never verbalized our desire to come back, nor did we really tell the woman we were, in fact coming back, Cody and I both knew we were. We had to. It was our immediate destiny.

When we reached the door and the three steps down to the grassy ground, soggy from the mist and fog of the past 18 hours, the boy and his moth were waiting for us. He beckoned us to go with him to the woods so he could show us where Bigfoot has crossed. He wanted us to see the creek where Bigfoot "prolly takes his bath." I was still agahst. And still Cody and I hadn't even discussed changing our plans, but I said, "I'm going to go tell Jared and Clay what's up and see if they want to go on to Shreveport without us." Cody nodded in agreement and headed off toward the clearing's edge as I made it Jared's truck.

"So..." I sheepishly said to Jared and Clay. "There's a meeting tonight. Here at 7. A Bigfoot club meeting."

I'm pretty sure Clay stared at me, wide-eyed and laughing. Jared just looked at me with a slightly annoyed look, but amused nonetheless. "A Bigfoot meeting???" I'm not sure which one said it, but they both thought I was nuts. I wondered if they thought my friend Cody, whom I'd only known for two and a half months, had put me up to this.

They both confirmed that they did not want to come back at 7 for a Bigfoot meeting, but they understood if Cody and I wanted to change up our plans. No big deal. We'd all go down to Idabel to check some stuff out, get Jared and Clay on their way to Shreveport, and then Cody and I could come back north for our meeting. OUR meeting. Weird.

As Clay, Jared and I finished up figuring out the new plans, Cody came back with the biggest grin on his face: he'd gotten many stories from the little boy. I'd have to wait for tonight to get my own earful, and an earful it would be. We bid farewell to the boy and his moth, got in my car with Jared and Clay following and headed to Idabel. The whole time my mind wandered and wondered what the night would bring. The only thing I knew was that our week of camping would not find me camping in Honobia. Cody agreed. No camping in Honobia...

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Honobia - Chapter 1

The slow drizzle of rain seems so comforting today: it reminds me of south Louisiana. All I need now is for a train to go by about a block or two from here, to smell mom's burning incense and I'd swear I was back home (I already have her favorite Pearl Jam music playing on my computer). Today is Saturday: cleaning day. Mom, I promise I tried to get my chores done first this morning before getting on the computer. Kitchen is clean, laundry sorted and washing, but vacuuming doesn't call to me like the computer does. :-) And finally writing this story down for Cody just seemed like the right thing to do. Haha.


You know how sometimes you start thinking about one thing, then realize a few minutes later you're on another topic altogether and you aren't sure how your brain made those leaps? Such is my reminiscing today. The rain had me thinking about being about 10 years old in Addis and now I'm remembering parts of a crazy road trip with one of my best friends, Cody. Maybe the weather is the connecting factor in my memory leaps from 1987 to 2006.


True story. While most of our Spring Break road trip was sunny and mild, a few days spent in the southeastern part of Oklahoma, deep in the heart of Kiamichi country, the weather was markedly chilly, rainy, foggy: somber. Perhaps someday I'll write about the trip up to the point of Friday, but today Friday is where we start. Friday found me and Cody at Robber's Cave State Park in Wilburton, Oklahoma. The day was overcast with foreboding clouds gathering, which was distressing to me because two more friends, Clay and Jared, were going to drive to Wilburton to meet us to camp out and then head to Shreveport Saturday morning. I just knew Jared would NOT like camping in the rain. Spoiler alert: he didn't! :-)


So, Friday Cody and I climbed all over the rocks and caves in the state park. There's also a huge face of rock called Devil's Slide that I braved. As it grew dark and the about the time Clay and Jared arrived it began to rain. Great. Just in time to get the six-man tent up and then do nothing. I could almost see the irritation level rise in Jared's neck and face like a thermometer. During the night we were each cocooned inside our individual sleeping bags, awake, with sleep being an elusive nymph, trying to stay warm, and I was crammed against the wall of the tent, trying to not touch the tent and break the surface tension (to no avail--I was wet).


In the morning, after we all got showers, we took Clay and Jared to climb the rocks. We then loaded up our stuff and drove southeast to Talahina. We wanted to get some lunch and then head to Honobia (pronounced ho - nub - EE). Cody found out that Honobia'd had a Bigfoot festival the previous fall, and we just knew we had to go visit this town. Now, I'm not saying I believe Bigfoot exists, but come on! Bigfoot festival? We HAD to go check out this place!


Honobia is nestled in the fringes of the Kiamichi mountains about 25 miles from the Oklahoma-Arkansas border, as the crow flies. Clay and Jared followed me and Cody up the winding road to Honobia. The drive up in the cold, grey drizzle felt like we were in a scary movie on the Sci Fi channel. I really felt that at any moment Bigfoot could jump out of the trees lining the mountain road. And I actually wondered if he had as we passed a Bigfoot Crossing road sign. Seriously?


Finally a break in the trees revealed a small ghost-town. Well, we thought it was a ghost town, but in reality it was just a small town. A Saturday. No one around. Not even at the small general store. Yes, general store. Behind the general store were a few houses and mobile homes. We were afraid someone might come shoot us thinking we were trying to break into the store, so we were trying to quickly determine our next move: do we write this up as one-point Honobia, zero-road trip fun? Do we explore the dirt roads that were quickly becoming mud? All we saw were mud roads. We thought we'd passed a paved road just past the bend in the road. We decided to try that one, then get the heck outta Dodge, er, Honobia. I was getting creeped out.


Cody Jared Clay with bigfoot crossing signWe got in our vehicles and went back to the paved road that wound around for about a mile. Trees and a creek were to the left of us and a house or two to the right. We then came to a clearing: a large field with what looked like an old white-washed, wooden schoolhouse plopped in the center. There were cars here. Life! As we got closer, we saw the sign that read "Honobia Community Center" and of course, another Bigfoot Crossing street sign. Ah. At last.


We pulled up near the other cars and trucks. Cody and I got out to assess the situation. Jared and Clay refused to get out of their truck. haha. The schoolhouse was a lot longer that it appeared from the road. From the side where we were, we could tell the original building had been expanded. I wondered if it was from expansion of the town itself or from the needs of the festival.


Cody and I walked up to one of the handful of open doors, as we heard the sounds of saws and smelled freshly cut wood. It appeared they were laying new floor in the community center. Here we were in a small town, two strangers walking into the community center full of what appeared to be every one of the town's residents and no one looked up. They all kept at their work. It felt like we were in the Twilight Zone. Cody finally broke our cloak of invisibility when he asked a woman what was going on. She slowly turned her attention to us, un-phased by our presence and replied, "We're doing some improvements to get ready for the festival." Sweet. Confirmation that we were, indeed, where we hoped we'd be. But after her response, she returned to ignoring us, going about her business. Only then did a little boy about 8 or 9 years old walk up to us and tell us to come with him. "Let me show you something."


Cody and I just looked at each other, almost speaking to each other telepathically. Would we get shot by some parents wondering why we were talking to their son? Why is this kid walking to the edge of the clearing toward the trees, beckoning us? We glanced at Jared and Clay. I headed to Jared's truck as Cody walked toward the boy.