Rudy's Rock Read online

PART II

  At first I thought I was having a nightmare as I saw the thing enter through the window and slither along the floor to the bed of the fisherman. It silently covered the sleeping body and, when it moved away, there was nothing left but a putrid puddle of blackened bones.

  It's a dream, I kept repeating, a dream.

  Then it was swaying in front of me, a horrible, ten-foot-long caterpillar.

  A very realistic dream, I had to admit as the creature stared me in the face, but still...

  And then it touched me.

  "Okay, okay! Wake up! That's it!"

  "Would you knock it off up there?" Kuneha's voice sounded from the floor below me. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

  Then, piercing at last the prison of sleep paralysis which kept me immobile, I sprang from my bed. The ceiling beam was some ten feet overhead, but luckily I caught it on my way down.

  I was hoping to shimmy my way to the door, only the olod's clammy body bent forward and, with its tail, circled my ankle like a tentacle—and flung me headlong through the open window.

  The creature's pliant body stretched and I came to a stop with my nose inches from the ground.

  Then I felt it draw me back.

  And I remembered the puddle of bones that had been the fisherman.

  So, as I dangled before the window of the floor below mine, I clenched my fist and...

  CRASH!

  "What the heck—" Kuneha jumped from her bed.

  "Pull me in!" I yelled.

  Kuneha grabbed my arm—the caterpillar loosened its grip—and I tumbled in!

  "Do you always go bungee jumping after everyone's asleep?" she panted.

  The monster caterpillar stuck its head through the window.

  "That," I pointed, "is whut—"

  "Ohhh! An olod!"

  I grabbed her arm and together we fled into the corridor.

  The corridor, however, was not empty.

  A second caterpillar blocked the hallway.

  "This way," said Kuneha. "There's another exit on the other side of the hall!"

  Only by then the first caterpillar had made its way down from the third floor and was blocking the stairway.

  "Oh, no! We're trapped!"

  It did kind of look that way.

  We were trapped between two giant caterpillars, or olod as Kuneha wanted to call them, the only thing between us and them being an unmarked door.

  "Whut's in there?" I asked.

  "I don't know. It's a closet or something."

  Oh, well. A closet wouldn't help. Still, I had to protect Kuneha, her being a girl, so I put a comforting arm around her waist.

  Now, if you recall earlier when I talked to Kuneha's kid sister, she'd said Kuneha was ticklish. Well, the instant my fingers touched her ribs, Kuneha jumped like a wildcat. You must remember as well she was still wearing that short sheer nightie from when she'd entered my room; so maybe the thinness of the fabric had something to do with it. Whatever the cause, we crashed against the door, which proved to be unlocked, and plummeted down a vertical shaft. I hit the bottom first and Kuneha landed on top of me.

  "Oh, now I remember," Kuneha sat up. "Mr Bakante said something about installing an elevator once business picked up."

  It was one of the few times I didn't mind being shafted. Still, we couldn't stay there, so...

  "Uh, Kuneha," I tapped her bare thigh, "I think we oughta—"

  She let out a startled "Ohhh!" and jumped to her feet; then raced out the door that led to the den.

  I took a few minutes getting up, being bruised and all. Hearing a noise, I ran to the den where a third caterpillar had Kuneha backed against a wall. The noise had come from a lamp she'd thrown at it. The caterpillar touched Kuneha and a smear of gooey substance appeared on her nightie.

  Knowing I had to act fast lest she become a puddle of ooze, I looked around desperately and, spotting Kuneha's machete on the mantel over the fireplace, I leapt onto the thing's back and...

  ...realized I'd forgotten to grab the machete before jumping.

  Which meant I had to crawl down from the caterpillar's back, get the machete, and jump on its back a second time.

  Thankfully, the olud was too busy menacing the girl to notice me.

  It was still menacing her when I plunged the knife into its head.

  I made no attempt to retrieve the machete, but seized the girl and raced outdoors into night. The gooey substance from the monster's touch was eating away the material of her nightie and I stopped to rip the flimsy garment from her body.

  She showed her appreciation by slapping the heck out of me.

  Only when she saw how the acidic drool had destroyed her garment, she went and ripped my t-shirt from my body, as some of the goo from the monster's head had gotten onto me as well.

  Now I'm going to say this right here: ripping a t-shirt from one's body is not an easy thing to do. For one thing, they're made from much stronger material than a woman's nightie. Also the neck is constructed different. In the end I had to help her lest she wind up choking me.

  That accomplished, we fled the lodge, me with my glasses, my bandana, and my boxers, and her in her panties. And of the two, she definitely looked the nicer.

  We followed the rocky creek bed until we arrived at the fishermen's camp. Unfortunately, the olod had gotten there first and all we found was several puddles of moist dripping bones.

  It was quite yucky, to tell the truth, and I couldn't blame Kuneha for sinking to the ground with a hopeless sigh.

  "I think I understand now," I told her. "Th' fisherman told me they caught—an' ate—something that wuzn't a fish. He seemed kinda disgusted about it, but excused it by sayin' they wuz hungry. My guess is it wuz one of these things, maybe a baby. An' now th' grown-ups are out to even th' score. They got his friends first, then trailed him to th' lodge. Now they're out to git everyone."

  "All right," Kuneha accepted my theory. "Only why, when they entered your room, did the olod eat him and not you?"

  The way she asked it sounded more disappointed than curious.

  "I dunno," I patted myself curiously. "Oh, wait; th' crackers. I wuz eatin' them in bed."

  "So they didn't eat you because you're a slob?"

  "No, they didn't eat me cos th' salt repelled them."

  "You sure they didn't just find you naturally repulsive?"

  I had to admit, I wasn't the handsomest guy around. Still...

  "No," I insisted. "It's gotta be th' salt. Caterpillars an' snails can't stand it. Which means all we gotta do is fetch some salt from th' lodge an'—"

  "We're out of salt. Mr Bakante is bringing more when he comes back."

  "Great," I said, although it really wasn't. "I don't s'pose ya got a salt flat nearby?"

  "Sorry," she shook her head. "Salt flats here are usually found along coastal towns."

  Something interrupted my thoughts, the sound of something wet and heavy being dragged over loose rocks.

  We scrambled to our feet.

  The olod were approaching, only not from the lodge. They'd circled around and were coming from the opposite direction. The very direction that led out of the valley!

  "Aw, crap!" I muttered. I'm not generally given to strong language only in this case I felt it was justified.

  "Now what?" demanded Kuneha.

  "We'll hafta go back," I told her, reaching for her hand.

  She drew back, as she had her arms crossed over her chest, so I just told her to come along. She followed close, although not without a complaint or two.

  "Ohhh, we'll never get away from them!"

  "Well, no," I admitted, "maybe not on foot! But if we kin git back to th' lodge, we kin take th' ski lift to th' top of th' dome an' signal fer help from there."

  "The ski lift doesn't work, remember? You were delivering parts for it."

  I sighed. "Ya know, fer such a cute girl, ya sure gotta a way of throwin' a wet blanket on everythin'."

  "You'd prefer the slimy one they
have waiting for us?"

  The first rays of dawn peeked over the hill as we stood together before the rock dome. It towered above us, steep and uninviting, while behind us came the olod.

  "Well," Kuneha choked back a tearful sob, "I guess this is it."

  "Yep," I nodded, "that's th' rock dome, all right."

  "I meant that it's the end."

  "Oh, right. That too."

  Still we tried crawling up the side of the dome. We made it a third of the way up; the rest was too steep. We halted on a little flat spot to await our fate.

  "What are they doing now?" Kuneha asked.

  I looked over the edge.

  "Th' lady caterpillar is tellin' th' man what to do," I told her.

  "How is it can you tell the woman from the man?"

  "Th' one listenin' is th' man."

  I glanced up once again at the steep slope of the dome. Some of the rocks there were large as Volkswagens.

  "Say, wait a minute. See that ridge there? Whut if we wuz to make a bomb an' blow it up. The rock's would tumble down an' crush th' caterpillars!"

  That of course, assumed the rocks wouldn't get us as well.

  Kuneha gave me this skeptical look.

  "And just where do we get material to make this bomb?"

  "Are ya kiddin'? Anyone who's ever seen that Star Trek episode with th' Gorn knows valleys are full of minerals ya kin make into explosives."

  And so saying I went about my task. I won't bore you with the details. You can go back and watch the episode yourself if you want. The only difference being where Captain Kirk built himself a cannon, I was going for a bomb. It only took a few minutes to gather everything I needed, again, just like Captain Kirk, and it was a good thing too because the caterpillars were now dangerously close.

  All I needed now was a fuse...a piece of cloth or something.

  I looked at the girl.

  "Oh no you don't, buster! I've little enough clothes as it is!"

  "It's Buck," I corrected her. "Not buster."

  Fortunately I had my bandana handy. It was a pretty good bandana and I hated to sacrifice it, but I guess the girl had a point. And besides, it was the gallant thing to do. And Texans are nothing if not—

  "Are you going to light that damn fuse anytime soon? Those caterpillars aren't backing down, you know!"

  I tore a strip of cloth from my bandana, sparked it with a couple of rocks, and hurled the bomb at the overhanging ridge.

  "Uh, Buck..."

  "Not now," I told her, ducking behind a crevice and sheltering her with my body.

  "Buck!"

  "Now, now," I assured her. "It's okay. Just don't be afraid if you hear a loud boom."

  We waited and waited as the caterpillars continued their ascent. Meanwhile I kept listening for the boom; only nothing happened.

  "Okay okay, it's all right," I said, as Kuneha continued to squirm. "Just a little boom, okay? Any time now. Don't be afraid."

  Finally she pushed her way free, her bare brown bosom heaving in anger. I was so captivated by the sight that it took me a moment to realize what she was holding in her hand.

  In was the fuse.

  "Now can I be afraid?"

  "Huh?" I stared, confused. "I don't understand...?"

  Then, glancing up a few lines, I re-read the following sentence: I tore a strip of cloth from my bandana, sparked it with a couple of rocks, and hurled it at the overhanging ridge.

  "Oh!" I smacked my forehead. "Now I git it. I fergot to attach th' fuse to th' bomb." I looked up at the explosive, nestled snugly at the foot of the ridge. "Still ya gotta admit my throw wuz accurate."

  Kuneha didn't see it that way however and filled my ears with a lot of things that a polite and well-bred Filipina shouldn't say. Meanwhile as the caterpillars advanced, I calculated my chances of running up the ridge and sparking the bomb with a couple of rocks. Only it'd mean sacrificing myself...and I wasn't too keen on that.

  I took off my glasses and cleaned them on what was left of my bandana.

  "This is hardly a time to worry about your—"

  "Oh, hush," I told her. "A situation like this calls fer clear thinkin'. An' clear eyesight is just as important!"

  The rising sun was at our backs and I was thinking if we could just hold out a little longer...

  "Buck!" she pointed.

  "What?" I turned quickly—so quickly that her outthrust finger went straight into my unprotected eye.

  "Ye-ouch!" I bounced around. "Ouch-ouch-ouch-ouch!"

  Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, the lens of my glasses caught a sunbeam and magnified it straight at the bomb...which in turn ignited the explosive and...

  WHAM!

  BAM!

  BOOM!

  A shower of rocks poured down the hillside, followed by a stampede of boulders.

  "Oh, Buck!" Kuneha cried in amazement as they tumbled past us. "It worked! The rocks are crushing the caterpillars!"

  "Uh...right," I answered. "I just wanted to trick 'em into drawin' closer." At which point an errant rock cracked me on the noggin.

  When I returned to consciousness I was back at the lodge. Kuneha had donned a coat and there was a distinct chill in the air. She came and sat beside me. And shivered.

  "There, there," I told her. "Yer safe now."

  "Not that, you dummy. It's cold outside. Can't you feel it?"

  Sure enough the temperature was plunging. Somehow the explosion must have ripped open a fissure leading deep into some sub-Antarctic pocket where the temperatures were much colder. And it was settling on the valley, blanketing the ski resort in a bowl of frigid air—and, yes, snow.

  Mr Bakante had been right about the temperature someday changing. And the Philippines now had its one and only winter ski resort!

  Of course Mr Bakante didn't get to see any profit from it as the government stepped in and confiscated his property, claiming he owed a fortune in back taxes. Today it's a little-known private get-away spot for sleazy officials and their mistresses.

  Which really isn't all that surprising, except—Filipina ski bunnies? "There's just somethin' inherently wrong in th' idea of Filipinas all covered up!"

  An enormous snowball, housing a rock, smacked me in the face.

  Aw, rats, I told myself, did I say that out loud again?

  POSTSCRIPT

  Some years later, I happened to bump into Kuneha on a visit to Tuguegarao City. She hadn't changed, still looking fine in her little sleeveless mini-dress. And she'd done all right in the interim.

  Turns out you can buy a low-level politician cheaper than you can a spouse. I asked her how that worked out for her and she said, "Well, it's not so bad—only the booze isn't all that good."

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  James Hold

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