-Monkey-
David Jacobs woke up with a start. Was the lodging house roof leaking? Remembering that he was on the bottom bunk, he groaned. Les was above him. Go figure.
But then, as David sat up, he suddenly realized that he was sitting on the ground. Outside. In the rain.
"What kind of a prank..." he started, standing and looking at his surroundings.
The first thing Dave noticed was that he was in a forest, and that it was very hot. Rubbing the back of his neck, he started wandering aimlessly, in a daze. A slight rustling caught his ear, and he froze in his tracks.
Suddenly, a loud cry erupted from the bushes and several leather-clad people rushed up and took hold of Davey like he was a free salami on the Lower East Side on Christmas Day.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" he yelled, trying to fight.
When Dave realized that it was no use to struggle, he took a good look at the people who had him. Indians? he thought, looking them over. He'd seen drawings of the Plymouth Indians in his textbooks at school. Taking a long, hard look at one of the men, he asked, "Squanto?"
The man looked at him and laughed. Davey shrugged. "Guess not."
The group took Davey all the way to the Indian camp, where they tied him to the totem pole with strips of leather. "Hey! Let me down!" Davey yelled.
"Relax!" a young boy yelled.
Davey looked at him, more than just alarmed. "WHY?!"
"They think you're a god. We are inducting you into the tribe of the Wakkawakka Indians," he answered back.
"This is not funny!" Davey cried. "I want to go home! I want my Momma!"
Dave looked down at the men. "Hey, could you let me down? I've got that wooden bird's beak rammed - "
"Silence!" the man, whom Davey presumed to be the cheif, commanded.
Davey looked at him. "Huh?"
The boy said, "They are going to give you a name."
For a moment, the cheif stared at Davey. "Your name... Boy With Mouth Like Roaring River."
Dave rolled his eyes. At home, they called him "The Walkin' Mouth". Here, he was "Boy With Mouth Like Roaring River". Just my rotten luck, he thought.
The Indians crowded around him to take him down off the totem pole. Rubbing his rear end, Davey waddled over to the boy who had spoken to him earlier. "Hi, my name's David - er, Boy With Mouth Like Roaring River. Who are you?"
"How," the boy greeted. "My name is Croaking Duck."
A little girl joined the two. Croaking Duck motioned to her. "This is my little sister, Quacking Frog."
Davey stifled laughter as he greeted them. "It's nice to meet both of you."
"Where are you from? What are you wearing?" Croaking Duck asked Davey.
"I'm from New York City, and these are called clothes," Davey said, pointing at himself.
"New York City? I've never heard of that tribe," Croaking Duck said thoughtfully.
"That's because it isn't a tribe...it's a city," David answered patiently.
"City?"
"You'll find out one of these days."
At that moment, the cheif called Davey over to the bonfire, where the whole village was gathered. "Boy With Mouth Like Roaring River," he began, "you a god to us. Smokum peace pipe?"
Cheif handed the elaborate pipe to Davey. "Sure, why not?" he muttered, taking a puff.
He coughed hard as he passed the pipe to Croaking Duck. "That's a symbol of peace? More like a symbol of 'I want to choke you to death'!" he sputtered.
The cheif caught this and stood up angrily. "You no likeum peace pipe? You no likeum a good smokum?!"
Davey tried to reply, but Cheif picked him up by the collar of his shirt. "YOU NO LIKEUM PEACE PIPE?!"
"Yes - no!! I mean, I loved it, Chief, your highness, your grace - you're gonna kill me, aren't you?"
The cheif put Davey down. "No, you learnum rain dance!"
"Rain dance?" Davey asked pitifully, looking to Croaking Frog for help.
Croaking Frog just grinned and shrugged as several of the Indians dragged Davey over and slapped a headband adorned with a feather on his head. They then took his shoes away and made him wear soft leather moccasins.
Learning the rain dance was not easy for Davey, for he had never been much of a dancer. So, he ended up tuck-jumping around the campfire in circles, his fists balled up, flapping his arms (*a/n* See "Seize the Day").
After the rain dance (which they didn't really need since it had been raining already), the cheif led Davey over to a tent. "Now, Boy With Mouth Like Roaring River, you get married."
Davey's eyes widened. "WHAT?!"
"Marry my daughter, Barking Cow," he commanded, shoving Davey into the tent.
Dave spotted a very tall, very large young woman standing beside a medicine man. "Ah!!!" she exclaimed, jumping on Davey and nearly smothering him. "Momma," he choked, struggling to free himself from her fierce embrace.
When he had done so, he ran out of the tent and smack into the cheif. "Done so fast?"
Davey stammered, "No, I was, actually, I was just going to get - "
"You no likeum Barking Cow?"
"Yes, she's...breathtaking!"
"YOU NO LIKEUM DAUGHTER?!"
"YES I LIKEUM DAUGHTER!" Davey yelled back. At that point, he didn't care that his father had taught him not to lie. This was a life-or-death situation.
"You marry Barking Cow, or I send you to Happy Hunting Ground with all her other suitors!"
If it had not been for the fact that Davey had already done so, he would have soiled his pants again. He let the cheif shove him back into the tent.
As the medicine man started the wedding ceremony, Dave started whispering to himself.
"I'm too young to get married! I can't marry this girl! I've got things to do, places to see, people to meet! I don't know how I got here, or why I got here, or who put me here, but please, take me back! Please! TAKE ME BACK!"
***DISCLAIMER***
Please don't get angry that Indians are mentioned in
this segment of the story. I made up the tribal name
Wakkawakka so as not to offend any actual Native
American tribes. Having Cherokee blood myself, I
most definately DO NOT view Native Americans in this
light. This segment is only comical and not meant to
offend. Thank you.