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...