And they sure didn’t. Three of the women had revealed themselves and were slapping their meat in a savage manner, grunting like pigs to trough.
“Maybe later,” Grace said.
“Suit yourself,” Bjoe said.
We sat down cross-legged, and I could feel the great fish’s flesh vibrating beneath me, taut as a harp string. The meat against my ass was warm, and I could imagine going to sleep quite comfortably in this cave.
The women who had chosen to explore their valleys were still at work, and even though only one of them was moderately attractive, I couldn’t help but watch. There was nothing really sexual about it for me. It was just interesting to see. Sort of like midget wrestling.
Bjoe went over to a row of skulls against the fleshy wall and picked one up. He brought it over, set it down in front of us, squatted to join us.
“So,” Cory said. “You just get some weed the fish ate, let it rot and such, and it’s ready to go.”
“We spit in it too.”
“Whoa, now,” Cory said. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Saliva blends with it, makes it ripe.”
“I bet,” Steve said.
“You really should try some,” Bjoe said. “It’ll set you free.”
Cory leaned over and sniffed it. “It smells like a dead animal,” he said.
“Indeed,” Bjoe said.
“You just hold your nose?” Cory said.
“First sip, yeah. After that, probably won’t need to.”
“Oh, shit,” Cory said. “I’m a fool.”
He took hold of his nose with one hand, lifted the skull to his lips, and sipped.
Carefully, he put the skull back down, removed his hand from his nose.
“That. Without a doubt. Is the foulest motherfucking thing I have ever put in my mouth. And I got to tell you, I once ate a turd because it had some kind of nuts in it. I think it was shat out by a bear or something. But that right there. That is some nasty shit. But… it kind of grows on you.”
“What happened to your head?” Bjoe asked Cory. “Knife fight?”
“I shaved it. But not too well. I’ll have another jolt of that fish brew, if you don’t mind.”
“Help yourself. There are plenty of bowls of it. Would any of you like to try it?”
“I’ll pass,” Grace said. “I haven’t even had a bear turd yet, so I’ll hold out.”
Everyone else passed.
Cory grabbed two more skulls, drained them down. Then he burped, fell over backwards, unconscious.
Homer leaned over and looked at him.
I said, “He isn’t dead is he?”
“No, but his breath is really something,” Homer said. “And strong. It could hold up a tea set.”
“Would you like to hear how we came here?” Bjoe said. “And maybe I can clear up some things for you. About the fish, I mean. I know some of it, or rather I’ve noodled out a lot. Rest of it is guesswork. And some, shit, I don’t got a clue. Maybe you can fill in some holes.”
“Tell us,” I said.
PART THREE
1
“I won’t begin where it began, because we all began there. The night of the drive-in and the big red comet with the hot white smile.
“Forget that.”
“I’ll begin where it began for us. The all of us here except you newcomers. There have been a few other newcomers, folks eaten by the fish, but they were all dead when they came through. And, frankly, we ate them.
“When the comet came back, like so many others, perhaps all who were in the theater, we started down the long road. We were among the first to leave. At the end of the road we found what you found. The goddamn drive- in again. We were on a loop, and we arrived at where we had left.
“Folks were coming into the drive-in to stay, but a caravan of us decided to strike out down a wide trail, bump our way along, and see if it went anywhere else.
“We went for a long time. Some of the cars conked out. People died. People got eaten. There were a few murders, rapes, and acts of depravity along the way, not to mention creature attacks, and that accounted for some loss. You know the drill. Been there done that, I’m sure.
“Finally we came to a wide break in the woods and found ourselves on the edges of great sea. Or so we think. Maybe it is a lake so great it seemed like a sea. But we found ourselves there, and there was no alternative but to stop.
“Critters were thick along that lake, and we decided to make tools from bone, plus use what tools we had. It’s amazing how much in the way of odds and ends can be found in the trunks and back seats of cars. Even car parts could be made into tools.
“So, what we did is we circled the cars, vans, and trucks in a double circle, to make a kind of wall-remember, there were a bunch of us, so it was a big circle-and inside that circle we began to build.
“During the day we cut timber and dragged it with pickup trucks. One of the cars served as a door to the circle, and the driver would pull it back and we would bring the logs in. Here we cut them and shaped them and coated them with clay to keep out insects as best we could, then we built them up into what can only be called one large goddamn home. Around the home we built palisades, tall, cut with sharp points on their ends. Beyond those, we slanted logs in the ground with points sticking out like angled porcupine quills. It wasn’t a bad job at all.
“In time, we used clay to cover the log walls. This not only kept out bugs, it better kept out the wind and insulated us from the cold and the heat, whenever it came. After a time, we built great chimneys on either end of the structure. Here community meals were cooked. Wild animals and roots and greens and such we found. Occasionally, one of our band would die and we would eat them, and let me tell you, if you haven’t had the old long pig, it can’t be beat. Now, I’m not suggesting anyone eat anyone here-unless they die-but, if you get the opportunity, don’t be squeamish. And I’ll tell you, it don’t taste like chicken. Or pork for that matter. It is a unique and sweet taste unrivaled by any meat. Damn. My mouth is starting to water just thinking about it.
“But we built this great place, and we called it home, and let me tell you, after all we had been through, it wasn’t so bad.
“Fact was, it wasn’t bad at all, and we should have stayed there, and we might have, but along came Noah.
“That wasn’t his real name, but it’s what we came to call him, at first derisively, and finally, respectfully, and then… Well, let me go back to the story.
“Noah, actual name Tim, said we should build a great boat.
“He wasn’t preaching religion, wasn’t saying it was going to rain. He wasn’t even saying life was too hard, because, actually, all things considered, it wasn’t. He was saying we should build a great boat because he knew how, and it would give us something to do, and we could sail across the sea.
“Now, he did have one idea. He thought that on the other side of the sea we might find home.
“I don’t know if this was a silly idea or not. I suppose it was, knowing full damn well there were no seas or great lakes like this in East Texas, but it was hard to know what to think, and finally, what I think made us all
