Chapter 7.4
Baby steps.
My gaze darted towards the hole under my bed again. One headache, heartache at a time.
By the time anyone had come across me, the sun was just starting to peek. My body was sore, even more so than it had been previously. I’d worked through the pain, all of it, using that pain and anger to keep me going even when I wanted nothing more than to crawl back inside my hut and forget all about my stupid, impulsive, cockamamie idea.
“Bauheg hear Jojoanie sick…”
the Boogster had started to say. However he meant to finish that sentence, I’d never know. A noise across the water, the sound of something rushing away, wet clopping noises, headed off in the woods, behind me, had me turning around just in time to spy a rather large, wraith-like, familiar type of grey beast I’d bumped into quite literally not so long ago.
A strangled noise left me and I dropped the small gardening trowel I’d borrowed from the humans’ only community garden. Flopping to my ass, I crabwalked towards Boog, trying to speak but finding myself speechless.
My god, it had been right there, watching me? The people of the village? Was it the same beast? Was it looking for me? Did it mean to hunt me or what?”
“What the fuck was that?!”
I burst out.
Horrible timing as usual, Rek came rushing up from who knows where doing shit knows what at the squeaked noise I let out.
“What fucks what thing?”
Rektal demanded to know. Those furry caterpillars he calls eyebrows winged upward as his gaze darted from the woods, where I was gaping and Boog was growling something fierce, to Boog, then me.
The beast had to do a double, then triple take as he took in the bag I’d been filling with wet mud not very far from the bank, the dried mud caking my body, the telling muddy prints leading right up to my place— didn’t take a genius to figure out what I’d been up to.
“What do?”
Rek growled, though he already knew. How could he not know?
“Remodeling,”
I murmured dryly. “What’s it to you?”
“What Jo do?!”
he bellowed from inside my hut. His snarl as he realized I had in fact filled most of that tunnelway up, bordered on a roar.
Clearing my throat, glancing at Boog as if nothing was amiss, I grabbed my trowel, asking as I absently put a few more scoops of mud into my bag, “What was that thing?”
Boog’s lips quirked. “That thing Reck’d,”
he quipped, making me laugh despite how freaking scary that demon beast creeping close had been.
“The other thing,”
I deadpanned, with a soft tsking sound.
“Other thin… Krampus,”
Boog replied quietly.
“Krampus?”
I repeated, dumbfounded.
Rek’s angry bellows stopped and he stormed right back out. “What means, Krampus?”
he demanded to know.
Boog started to reply in his native tongue, as I lifted my trowel to wave off towards the other side of the river, and told him, “We just saw one. It was like he was watching us.”
A shudder overtook me. I never wanted to run into that thing again. It gave me the heebie jeebies.
Rek’s eyes widened as Boog continued to chatter on without me. No matter. Back to work for me.
Standing, stretching my back, I lifted the handles of my hand-made Yeti bag, a random gift from Gopher that I’d thought fitting to destroy to start off the first leg of this me first journey I’d started off on, and limped a little, dragged a little, as I went.
This went on while Boog and Rek’s conversation grew heated. It was Rek. Of course it was. It was always Rek. It was like that was the only way he knew how to talk.
I started when a big hand came down over mine, gently prying my hands free, to lift my bag up like it was nothing and tote it into my hut for me. Boog talked all the while, starting to get growly when Rek thought to put some sassy sauce on whatever kinda fuss he was kickin’ up.
“Where?”
Boog asked, ignoring Rek as Rek burst out, “No’ there! No in there!”
“A sinking hole opened up under my bed. I mean to make it go bye bye,”
I said simply.
Boog’s eyes widened when I motioned towards the mostly filled hole. Only a tiny peek of my sacrificed suitcase wreckage visible now.
Boog lifted the bag higher to dump it, bending to grab the bed and scoot it off to the side more than I’d already pushed it, when Rek jumped into the middle of it.
Several things happened at once, all leading up to the mud bath I’d never asked for.
Rek bumped Boog, shouting, “No!”
which sent Boog toppling into me, the bag held in one hand swinging precariously as he bellowed for Rek to stop. My hands shot up and I cursed, boxed in and knowing there was no possible way outta this.
That first slap of dirt clapping over my head, as icy cold as when I’d scooped it into the bag, sent me screaming, cursing, and then screaming some more.
By the time Boog had seemed to catch the bag, I was covered in more than half the contents of that large sack. This was so damned worse than getting a bag of freaking coal.
Loud, unintelligible noises left me as I panted heavily. It was fucking cold! With a muffled shriek, careful to keep my mouth shut as a glob of gooey wetness slid down my face, I lifted my arms, desperate to keep my mud coated head dipped, and gaped down at myself.
I looked like a glob of wet shit! Thank god I just smelled like wet earth.
Someone, and I wasn’t sure who as mud rolled down the sides of my head, let loose a startled chuckle.
Sputtering despite the mud coating my lips, I snarled, “That better be the sorry, shocked kinda laughter, bucko, or you’re next!”
“What happ… en?”
Whoever came in quickly switched into Lo denaii speak.
I was so done with this- ALL of this.
“Everyone, get the hell out,”
I gritted out quietly, my voice soft but firm. If they knew what was good for them, they’d get out before I lost it and exploded.
“Who scream?”
yet another voice called out.
The growl I was holding back started to let loose. “One,”
I counted.
“One whats?”
an unknown to me voice asked.
“She mad,”
Boog whispered.
“Booger thinks? Dumps mud all over Jojo-knee!”
Rek barked. “Booger bad male! Bad like Goober! Stupid!”
“Two,”
I gritted out.
The sound of the dirt bag dropping was loud in the silence that followed. It was too bad the dirt bag dropped wasn’t named Rek.
“Three,”
I bit off.
“Muddy,”
someone else murmured.
“Four,”
I called louder.
Rek growled and the sound of a shuffling scuffle sounded.
A looky-loo beast growled right back softly as if to ask what the big idea was.
“Jojo-knee no counts to tens! Lies! Gets fives and goes BOOM!”
Rek warned them all.
At the door, about to get the hell out of my hair, he paused, sniffed, grunted, made that weird sneezing sound, then sniffed again. “What that smells?”
the sock monkey grumbled, rumbling as he sniffed some more.
“It’s exactly what you think it is!”
I snapped, shooting up, flinging mud everywhere in the process.
“No,”
Rek burst out, like if he said so then it wouldn’t be true.
“Yes,”
I said simply, grinding it out through gritted teeth.
“No,”
he argued, his voice growing insistent.
Saying that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, dummy. “Yes,”
I shot back with the same fiery tone.
“NO!”
he called out louder, until we were shouting back and forth at each other.
“YES!”
“NO!”
“YES!!”
“NO!!”
“What they argue ‘bout,”
whoever was plainly that damned stupid asked Boog, I was assuming as Rek got all up in my face.
“FIVE!”
I announced, doing a bit of roaring of my own.
“Scatters!”
Boog called out, the sound of thundering footsteps stampeding from my mud hut and Rek shouting, “Ah! Eh! Eh! What’s big in the ideas! Put Rek down! Down now, Boogers!!”
as he was quickly snatched from my distorted field of vision, it was like Christmas morning. Hallelujah.
“Rek stupid. Bauheg save from self! Rek thank Bauheg later!”
Boog snapped.
Rek’s caterwauling faded into the distance as I trudged over to the door, slammed it shut and locked it, and had a good fishmouthed gape at the mess left in their wake. “I hate men!”
I shouted as I flung my arms out, then let them fall wetly to my sides with a resounding slap of a clap. “You ALL suck!! All of you! Every single last damn diddly darn freakin doodly one! You hear me?! You SSSSSUCK!”
With a groan, knowing what I had to do and not looking forward to it one lick, I limped over to my door , unlocked it, and flung it open. Walking back towards my mess, I started the arduous task of finishing off that stupid partially closed up hole.
???
S ometime later, a heavy grunt alerted me to company. Attempting to shimmy my upper half out from underneath my bed, wondering at how I’d thought it a genius idea to push it back into place first, I was working on wiggling my way out without spreading even more mud and muck anywhere, when thick fingers wrapped around my waist and just jerked me right out from underneath my bed.
Popping free with a yelp, I was all set to start lambasting a fool when Bum-bum’s concerned mug stole my attention.
“Well, what the hell are you doing here?”
I blurted, holding my hands out so I didn’t touch him with dirt and muck encrusted hands. I’d lost four nails. Four! Four beautiful, acrylic claws of destruction gone working on this ish, but I’d admit I enjoyed that feeling of a hard task accomplished. Even if it left me sweaty, gross, short a few claws, and coated in ick.
“You came hoping for ick cooties, to ransack my hut on the off chance I’d kicked the bucket, or just checking on a bet whether I’ve killed Rek or not yet?”
I guessed aloud.
Bum-bum let out a soft grunt. “Yells,”
he said simply.
“That was a while ago, my dude,”
I pointed out with a shake of my head.
And… cue awkward, super long pause as he fidgets and looks super uncomfortable.
“Krampusnauchtt,”
he finally rumbled out softly.
“Krampysnatch? What the hell is that?”
I muttered, making to stand to find thick hands clasping my elbows, dirt yuck and all, to help me to my feet. Lower, I muttered, “It’s me on the rag. Har-har.”
It sounded like some kind of painful STD.
“No’ fun-knees,”
he grunted out, frowning mightily.
“Oh, now you’re going to offer your help?”
I snarked, ignoring his slap on my funsies, rolling my eyes as I glanced down my arms and flicked a bit of caked mud from my person. Bossy fucker.
“No. Kampusnauchtt,”
he repeated, gesturing out the door, like I should know what on earth he was talking about.
Then it hit me. “Oh, you mean that demon thing. He took off when Booger showed up. He just called them ugly murder flurfers a Krampus. Are those the same thing or a different kind of nightmare? An ick from those nightmares? Clue me in, Snow Patrol.”
Shaking his head, he grunted a few times before saying yet again, “Krampusnauchtt.”
“Right, well, alrighty then. Whatever the fuck that means.”
I wasn’t exactly in the mood to play mime it out with him right now.
“Krampusnauchtt. Hunt ,”
he rumbled out curtly, persistently.
“Are you saying it’s, like, their hunt right now?”
I blurted, startled by the idea. “A hunt-hunt or a bridal hunting dealie like the Lo denaii do?”
“Krampus hunt times,”
he muttered as he took in the chaos that is my hut.
“I don’t suppose you want to give a gal a hand? Make my life a wee bit easier?”
Posed as a question, it wasn’t so much one as a sarcastic retort.
A long sigh left me as I got to work, ignoring his loud snuffling and sniffling around the place.
“What go here?”
he grunted out when I was about halfway through with mud clean up duty.
“What goes here? I go here, my bosom boob,”
I quipped, tossing him a wink that he flinched at. I shouldn’t find so much joy in causing him this much discomfort, and yet… “Best get to movin’ sass-squatch. Don’t want anyone thinkin’ you’re keen on me or my fun-knees, Snow Patrol.”
“Say no’ fun-knees. Not funs knees,”
he grunted out churlishly. Like I hadn’t said anything about him fecking off, he’d made himself right at home while I worked, touching every god damned thing in my domicile at least twice. My bed and what lies within it, or more so I should say is hidden beneath my pillow was, thankfully, left undiscovered.
Lifting my pant legs, exposing my Yetiliciously hairy stems since I’d run out of razors and my electric razor went kaputsky a while back, I’ve been here that damn long, I let out a soft wolf whistle as I made a little show out of my exposed knee caps. “I dunno, these knees have had their fair share of fun.”
“Not fun-knees,”
he grunted out. The way he was eyeball fucking my legs had me subtly shoving my pant legs back down. Woo there, honey. Slow your home-made rolls.
“Of course not. Knees are nothing to have fun over.”
With a jaunty salute, I limped my way to my door. Opening it, I gestured for him to merrily fuck off. “Well, thanks for stopping by, big guy, but if you don’t mind I’d like to gather some snow, watch it slowly melt because I have nothing better to do, then shiver butt assed nekkid over the pot I put it in as I try and give myself a good wash down, sans an honest to god, full sized god damned tub because my place is just too fucking small for a Yeti sized one.”
“Lo denaii,”
he rumblingly correctly.
“Look here, biggun. The day y’all stop calling us females and start addressing me by my actual name correctly said, is the day I stop mangling your bullshit. You got me, boo?”
“Not Boog. Boog no’ here,”
he garbled out softly, carefully. Rumblingly saying his name in his tongue, he tapped his chest.
My hand slapped to my forehead. Instantly regretting the action as mud dust on the back of my palm coated the air, I had to bite down hard to keep the snark just waiting to fly free was forced back. Choosing a more subtle form of sarcasm as my weapon, I threw my hands up. “My god, you’re right! How could I forget? So silly of me!”
Walking over to him and taking him by the arm, ignoring the startled noise he let out at being so freely man-handled, this allowed me a sec to drag-walk him six steps towards the door. “Grrrr-grumble-grumble-complain, you know what, you are exactly right!”
“No’ how say it.”
It was all over the second he dug his heels in and I knew it. So close. Ugh.
“I need to get naked, my friend, no clothes on, just in the skin God gave me and the overgrown fur needing a lawn mowing encompassing all within, you feel me, fuzzo? So you need to leave.”
There was no clearer way to paint that picture.
Bum-bum blinked and a rumble that wasn’t the least bit unsettled left him.
Jerking my gaze back to him, I blinked at that, lips parting as I stared up at him in astonishment. Was he- Had he just- No, he didn’t. He looked as startled as I felt as a garbled noise left him, one thick mitt clapping to his chest, and he forced that shit back, hard.
I supposed it was a good thing he was dead set on suppressing any and all happy thoughts associated with me and possibly nakedness of any kind because I’d already sworn off all males this year.
One more pain in the tuchus with love you, hate you issues was not needed.