Chapter 14: So Groovy Now How
Lok lurks along the Black Lagoon. He low-crawls near where lethal creatures live. However, he cannot dwell on potential lousy luck, such as being giant lizard lunch, when potential larger danger looms. So, his legs and left hand locomote him while a long lance occupies his right. At his flank, a lanyard links a loop of lasso to his loin cloth waist.
Lok looks and listens under the low lunar light. Recently, unknown lights and low lugubrious tones have vexed the Valley's nights as though aliens—outsiders—visit in this 1977 lore. The sightings have happened during the day too. And, the natives are agitated about it all. Recently, John Butler made his way through a noon haboob to the lagoon shores where villagers had gathered. He addressed and questioned them, using some French. They all simultaneously pointed downward and grunted.
Anyway, Lok is here to take a leery look. As Katie might say, he is going to "get the lowdown". Slithering like a serpent, Lok's length settles between tall, sturdy grass stalks along the lagoon's shore. A river arrives here and brings the water that spreads into the Black Lagoon. Far off are the craggy mountains and vast canyons that issue the river into the Valley. Through boggy miasma, Lok can discern stony arches contrasted against Luna overhead.
Katie claims that her tribe has been to the moon (E2) and that it is rocky, cold, and dry. Lok likes when she speaks of her home. It seems like somewhere out of legend, far from the hard-rock realities of the Valley. America sounds like some fun fantasy shared with children after their schooling and chores, when they may sit a while, snack, be entertained, and perhaps learn something too. And, Lok is lucky to have actually met a charming princess from there. She relieves the care of each passing day being a lesson in survival in the Valley of the Dinosaurs.
Sometimes, Lok dreams of being a person in the "real world". However, he is grateful to at least episodically escape reality for a while and vicariously experience the United States. It sounds like the greatest country in the world.
Katie relieves Lok's stress, but he is a little glad for her absence presently. He is on a risky scouting mission. For all he knows, things could get lethal. It could be that some lich or lamia electrifies the night with eldritch lights, and Lok will have to use his lance a lot. Or, it could be that something ludicrous or loony lies in wait out here as often occurs in this animated life. The young man may need to be as able as Gorak and as astute as John Butler. He does not need Katie distracting him right now. At least, not directly. She is always on his mind; she is always on his mind.
Caught daydreaming (in the night), Lok lunges to his left. Leaf-cutter ants rattle past his right flank. One can hear the great massed column eerily pass. Click-click-click-click-click-click. They won't strip you to the skeleton like Tagas, army ants. But, they do sting devilishly when disturbed.
Disturbingly, Lok suddenly realizes that the crawling legion is more creepy than usual. Typically, ants do not move at night.
As crickets chirp and sing, a creature surfaces and crashes far offshore. Off to the other side, a six-foot owl, Ornimegalonyx, "hoo-hoos" on its night hunt—before a one-foot mouse squeals under Selene. Across the moon, a colony of bats and a single cloud pass behind a witchy curtain of swamp haze. As the cloud passes, a single moon ray reflects on various reptilian eyes low in the wetland water. The ray widens and comes ashore where Lok lies along the lagoon's rim.
The reconnoiterer startles. Shocked, he sees fresh tracks—boot tracks. But, those prints should be impossible. John and Kim Butler have not been by the Black Lagoon in days, to Lok's knowledge. Besides, these days, they tend to wear their Japanese sandals, getas, more than their time-beaten boots. They geta them anywhere they need to go. John has even given Gorak getas (E11), but Gorak has not gifted Gara. Perhaps, a caveman prefers his wife barefoot and gravid, if you are so cynical.
The boot prints are also most peculiar in another way. They come directly out of the water. That should be impossible for folks who are not amphibians from the Black Lagoon. Unless. . . . . Well, Lok is not Sher-Lok. He is not sure; he doesn't know.
However, the hunter does know tracking. Perhaps, he can find the shod trekkers and ask them any questions in-person. Lok lowers his face to the indented earth and sniffs. He is no Digger or Glump, but the young buck does all right. Inhaling, he whiffs the wet, musty mud. But, no odd odors accompany the Butler boots, so the prints provide no hot tip for tracking. The prints simply lead off into the dark night, and an able hunter can try following them if he boldly wishes. Of course, noble Lok, son of gallant Gorak, does wish to do his duty by the village. Thus, he inhales hard and steadily releases the breath. Courage of a Konga and eye of the Neebra. He is never nervous.
"Jeepers, it sure is spooky out here tonight," someone startles Lok. The creeper has light brown peepers.
Tense, the upright tribesman reflexively wraps the "assailant's" ankle and overturns her with a yank. The trapped, tilted "threat" hits the terrain. But, not hard. Rather, her light blouse and blue jeans splat upon the sloppy shore muck.
"Hey, men are pigs. Girls aren't," cracks Katie in the mud.
Slack-faced, Lok stares at his soulmate's sole for one second before she kicks him facially in further slapstick. The dirty foot tastes sour on Lok's lips. He seeks to say sorry expeditiously. Leaping nimbly erect, "Sir Walter Raleigh" reaches for his queen knocked in the mud. His firm hand finds hers, and an able arm easily brings her to him under the romantic moonlight. His other palm promptly presses downward along her back blouse. Intently, it both cleans and caresses. Stopping just above her belt, his hardy hand gently presses her spine so as to curve her lithe middle to his bare stomach just above his warm loin cloth. Her moist shirt sticks to his naked belly, and he feels her febrile flesh through the distressed clothing, matured by time in the Valley. With ragged breath and an unstill heart, she inhales his arousing musk, and he her sweet sweat mixes with jungle stench and the sweltering night in his needy nostrils.
He whispers, "I am sorry, sweet. I shall try to do better."
She sighs. She strokes her raven tresses back. One foot lifts from the ground. A lass' tongue licks her lips, and light brown eyes look longingly at luscious, large Lok in the low light, wild calls lilting on the sultry breeze.
However, Lok unexpectedly straightens up and steps back. Momentarily, Katie sees him consider her and scan her form up and down. His gaze settles below her waist. Surprisingly, he points at her feet.
"Well, we know that you did not make those tracks," Lok laughs, "John made your boots into parts three years ago."
"Yeah, their leather became that lanyard at your hip," Katie comments. She shakes the looped lasso while pulling his leg in a way.
Sighing, Katie pivots to retrieve Lok's lance from the lily pads. He may have it, and she hands it to him. Both Ms. Butler and her beau can get to pressing business.
Curious Lok asks, "Have your parents been near the lagoon lately?"
"Not to my knowledge," Katie replies, "Good old Kim tends to send Greg or I when there's dirty work to be done."
Lok blinks, "No, she doesn't. Both Butler parents tend to be very hands-on when building stuff and altering the landscape. They are good workers."
Katie smiles knowingly. Sometimes, Lok does not get smart remarks. "Anyway, what were you doing when your friend and lover reached out of the darkness?"
"Actually," Lok replies, "I reached and brought us together. Which is so groovy now, as you would say. It is wonderful and how." He pats her shoulder.
Now, Katie blinks baffled. How did her honey know how to correct her reference? How the "heck" did he know that song from a decade ago from well outside Valley environs?
Lok pats her shoulder conciliatorily again, "You sometimes sing it while strolling around. And, I love listening to your voice, hon."
The lady blushes a bit, for any woman (sort of) likes a man who can read her mind. Katie continues, "Anyway, Tarzan, why were you wondering if John and Kim had wandered the lagoon recently?"
"Their boot tracks are in the dirt," Lok's finger directs her gaze downward.
"How do you think that they got there?" the inquisitive ingenue inquires. She is impressed. One can barely discern the prints in the dark.
"I do not know," Lok shrugs, "I am scouting tonight. I am doing what you call science."
Katie smirks. Often, the Butlers and the Goraksons accidentally forget that the other group is not stupid. Each man has his gifts. In episode after episode, each party learns this lesson. And, Katie wishes that the outside world would learn it too. There would be more harmony, like in the song just mentioned. Sometimes, the young woman fears leaving the Valley and would rather stay. Occasionally, it seems cleverer not to escape home.
The modern U.S. could learn a lot from Friend & Lover's "Reach Out of the Darkness" or Valley of the Dinosaurs.
Katie comes back to the current conversation, "Should we follow the trail inland? You have a flint. We could light a torch from a tree branch."
The "savage" shakes his head, "No, a torch could tell predators 'Here I am!'. Much as they fear fire, they may make a midnight snack of us. Also, there is much smelly swamp mist tonight. So, a lit torch could leave us as crispy cooked food for critters."
Within, Katie kind of concurs. Certainly, one can smell the methane—the natural gas—from the lagoon. Over the water, Katie even spies a will o' the wisp, oxidizing swamp gas. She tells Lok what one is. He chuckles. Alliteration is amusing to an aboriginal mind.
Suddenly! Something surprises Katie and Lok! A massive shell explodes through the swamp's surface and sends silty spray their way. Saucer-sized shiny eyes stare through the dark. Something huge raises its hefty head and hostilely hisses.
"Holy moly, it's our old friend the giant turtle!" Katie clamors.
"Yes, we stole his mate's eggs once [E6], and he defended the nest. But, there are no eggs buried in this season. Perhaps, he comes for revenge," Lok laments, "This time, it's personal."
"I doubt his jaws come in revenge," Katie contributes, "Some beasts are too basic for such a bad movie plot." Just wait ten years, biologist Katie. You'll cringe.
The Stupendemys stomps from the shallows sludge, and disturbed swamp stink wafts on the wind. Fortunately, the turtle is somewhat slow, albeit with lengthy legs. It ominously lopes toward Lok and his lady seeking its midnight meal of human links and limbs.
The two lovebirds are not going to linger. They run. They will follow the boot tracks now after all—unless they need to zig and zag to lose a certain ravenous reptile. Rushing ahead is risky. In the dark, roots could trip a person, or rocks could break a foot. "Heck", Rokar the Stegosaurus mascot (E9) could take revenge for years of captivity. Or, once disturbed, really big rats could ram you. Lying in wait, rude raiding tribesmen could grab you, rope you, and rub you out. The region's routine ridiculousness and peril could make any night an adventure in the Valley of the Dinosaurs.
Instead, Lok and Katie run smack into a rounded wall. And, they bounce off onto their butts, nigh counting night birdies. Lok lunges to his feet and lowers his lance with an impressive yowl. Katie promptly arises too. Blindly, she presses her hand forth to feel the elephantine object. She gasps. Her heartrate elevates. Her hands feels the rough, hard, b-b-big. . . . . But, before she utters warning. . . . .
A wide rutilant light illuminates the range from river backwater to distant ridge. It reveals Katie's surprised look and Lok's likewise leery expression. The radiance reveals another titanic turtle shell such as the one ardently approaching. That is to say, it elucidates that which about the wan woman was about to warn. Beside her, the hunter-warrior winces and squints past his wrinkled nose. He must protect Katie, and he would wrestle a worg, for his woman, to do so. Beside him, Katie reels around to run in another direction—the original tremendous "terrapin" in sight. Surely, the venturers must escape the awful, enormous Eunotosaurus descendants, one the monstrous male and the other the malevolent mama.
The intense luminescence abruptly abates.
Imagine Katie Butler's minor, but pleasant, surprise when Daddy is right behind her. John jolts but looks overjoyed. He hauls his little girl in and gives her a great-big hug. Katie last saw Dad an hour ago. He seems emotional. But okay. She embraces him too, glad to see him when needing rescue. Peripherally, Katie kens Mom Kim beside Dad.
Although, Mom seems to somehow have. . . . . New clothing? All is black and white in the night, so a person cannot discern color well. But, Kim's coat definitely has a different cut. Plus, she lost her last coat with the raft, in the Black Lagoon, three years ago. Also, the garment's shade of gray does not seem to be Kim's consistent khaki.
"Come on!" Lok commands, "Everyone run!"
"Unless you want to be cooter crunch," Katie quips. She is constantly quipping.
Mr. Butler manages a glance, "Oh no, it's Gamera."
An imposing silhouette approaches. Luckily, its mate has not moved a muscle this entire conversation. In fact, if Katie and Lok looked, they would find the shell quite meatless, sans muscle or bone. The colossal object is just an empty carapace—like the sub from a past episode (E3) or elsewhen.
Taking his hand, Katie carts Daddy away, "You know Gamera?"
"Why sure, princess," John jogs with her, "Greg, your mother, and I saw him in a double-feature with Planet of the Gorillas."
"Apes, dear," Kim corrects. She trots out something from under her coat.
"Oh, that's right. Thank you, dear," John says, "The most important detail right now is that we're back together." Katie gives a curious look in the dark.
Unexpectedly, to be sure, an electric lantern activates and illuminates their escape path. Ever-ready Kim holds it high to help all. Mother is the family's guiding light.
Her daughter blinks consecutively, "You didn't have that when I left you at the camp a while ago."
Hurriedly, Katie examines just who she accompanies this evening. Thankfully, Lok looks his usual lovely self. However, her parents' appearances weird one out a wee. They are dressed differently than anytime recently. In fact, their altered attire is not anything packed for the Amazon three years ago. And, the duds look too 5th Avenue department store for any Valley denizens to have secretly manufactured them.
Silver-haired John sports a red jersey and blue jeans along with his usual brown leather boots, looking better than they have in years. Brunette Kim, besides two new gray shocks in her hair, has a teal corduroy overcoat cut above tan slacks and brown brogans. The folks resemble somewhat buddies Race and Benton. (But, that is an inquest for another time, when not running for one's life).
Far behind the fleeing, the hollow carapace simply collapses. By accelerated entropy or other universal force, it implodes, utterly, into thin air.
Dashing, the runners meet the swamp's shoreline where the wetland wends where it will. The Black Lagoon subtly overflows its banks and soaks the soil pretty far inland. The fleeing four slow in the slop until they stand still a moment.
"I am sure that we are safe now," John assures, "That bean-brained behemoth probably beelined for our last location. We dashed diagonally. No doubt, we skunked it with superior intelligence and a liberal arts education." (And a superior attitude).
"Actually," Kim contributes, "Scholarship says that modern man knows very little about prehistoric fauna. We only guess and figure."
"And, I guess that gruesome has found his dinner guests!" Katie ejaculates.
Consciously or not, the giant turtle has outflanked the fleeing four. And, it now impedes their safe escape. With an evil eye, it ogles the human hors d'oeuvres delivering themselves to its broad, mucopurulent maw. It munches in anticipation and moves deliberately over the mud. It creeps closer to the chewy and crunchy Butlers and caveman, all caught calf-deep in muck. Sympatico, John and Kim conjure their quick wits and, curtly cogitating, construct a plan. Close by, Katie considers the scaly mass before her and cranks her legs to clumsily run.
However, all of a sudden, no one need run, not even the Stupendemys. You see, up from the lagoon bottom, something springs like Nessie from Loch Ness. And, interestingly enough, it is neither Plesiosaurus (E3), aquatic dino, nor Sarcosuchus (E6), mega-croc. Butlers have seen both. Rather, an enormous ophidian head explodes the surface and arcs across the nocturnal sky. On a past occasion, Gorak gathered this monster's molted skins, and the usual gang made a hot air balloon several stories high (E2). But, the Butlers have never actually encountered in-person, up-close, live, looming, one of the Valley's giant snakes. The gargantuan reptile rears back like Leviathan and then topples its towering form forward. The Butlers and Lok simply freeze. Either in fascination or in fear. Perhaps to summon fortitude. Perhaps, they are but dumbfounded and wonder how the whale of a snake did not utterly displace the swamp water.
The vast constrictor crashes into the hefty turtle and knocks it clean over. Instantly, an immense body undercuts the intended prey, and mighty coils bind a creature big as a wagon. The prodigious proto-python possesses the previously petrifying predator. Abruptly, the extensive upper section of an epic animal rapidly withdraws with an impotently-wriggling, woeful morsel for stygian swamp depths. Dub the turtle the damned.
As the whopping reptile (the snake) retreats, Kim queries, "Wait. Is that Stupendemys souzai going to fit in that Gigantophis garstini's mouth? How's the snake going to swallow that sumb****?"
Over the water, terrific wringing coils crush the shell unceremoniously. A resounding crunch crosses the landscape. Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker could not have brought down the turtle's house better. Amazed, John Butler's jaw drops. Concurrently, the constrictor's jaws unlock too. One writhing reptile enters a ravenous other's wide mouth and gullet. Then, the unsettling scene recedes below the black water.
Katie kind of quips, "Usually, I like my turtle treats with . . . chocolate and nuts, but. . . . . Okay, that was jarring. I can't even think of a joke. Sorry."
Silently, the set stare at the settling lagoon surface. They hope no super snake seeks seconds. Over seventeen seconds, they too settle, and they mutually recover their composure.
Lok breaks the silence, "My friends, let us go back the way that we came. Sometimes, swamp and stream soak and seep into the soil until it is saturated and seriously soft. Straight ahead, we will encounter only quicksand and quagmires."
John nods, "Your [wise] father once showed me this extensive stretch of unstable terrain, Lok. It leads to Animal Island where you and Katie once had to flee [E6]."
"I remember that," the [kid] nods back.
"Well, I don't need Animal Island now; that animal was an island," Katie connects to her corny kids' show comedic discourse.
As Kim and Gara might corroborate, a woman's job is to maintain the spirit of the group. Maybe. Being sweet, cooking with spice, cheerfulness, and everything nice. In 1977, that's what a woman's social role is made of.
