Read Barbarian King Page 15

the two would then set off again wobbly and holding hands just like a pair of children. It was, however, at the base of one of the towering trees that IllaryHay finally ran out of steam. She grabbed the first thing she could clutch...BamaOay’s shirt; already stretched to the max it gave way to the superior forces.

  Rip!...

  IllaryHay gasped upon seeing his bare naked peck; a chiseled man-boob that looked nothing like the saggy, sheet-white chest of her husband’s. She could make out a little of his six-pack abdomen all covered in sweaty, matted hair and IllaryHay started to get a little tingle of excitement at the Barbarian’s repugnant, unbathed appearance.

  BamaOay looked down upon himself with an approving eye, then back a her. A tingling sensation started to slowly migrate from the right hemisphere of his now-primitive brain down and around his neural pathway; slowly he began to get some wood.

  IllaryHay was zonked, certainly too exhausted to entertain the idea of having sex, but the thought did indeed cross her mind. It had been years since she had sex with a man, and sure, it was because she largely preferred women over men, but there was something sensual about this hairy, repugnant brut standing before her. Maybe it was his resemblance to ‘the Hulk,’ but just the same, she was bruised from her fumblings and quickly collapsed to a seated position along the roadside.

  Seeing no prospects for having sex, the President quickly batted down his rising timber with his free hand, while covering the maneuver with the other.

  IllaryHay spied his actions with weary eyes, but only to remark about the state of their diet, "I am starting to get a little fed up with eating lizards without any salt. Bah, makes me want to gag." Doziness was beginning to descend upon her grand countenance.

  It was turning dusk and nightfall would soon be upon the two weary souls.

  “Here,” said the President handing her what must have been her umpteenth raie des fesses of the day. “Have one more as a night cap.”

  “Oh hell, why not...”

  Moments later the unholy sound of animal-like munching broke the otherwise quiet surroundings.

  Munch...munch...munch.

  She yawned out loud like a bear.

  Snork, snork!

  “I could fall asleep right here...wait!” she started, a recent memory breaking free of the cobwebs. “What about those nighttime bloodsuckers? They will surely be coming back.”

  The President nodded in understanding, those fiends were sure to return. He tried to assuage her fears, fears that they might be in mortal danger. “Everything will be fine IllaryHay, I’ll stand watch and keep an eye out for those intruders.”

  “The hell with that, you’ll be going lights out just like me in no time!”

  “You know something, you’re right.” BamaOay thought for a moment, he was not concerned for himself. He was beginning to believe himself invincible; hell, he had fallen several dozen times during the day and without a scratch. IllaryHay on the other hand was a female and therefore susceptible to all kinds of bruises and cuts, only her hairiness had kept those injuries from becoming evident to all but the closest of scrutiny.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do for you. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Walking off she listened as the metal cleats of BamaOay’s shoes grated along the lava road a short distance off. IllaryHay had always wondered why BamaOay had insisted on wearing old-time golf shoes with those obsolete metal cleats. She was still at a loss on why.

  Soon she heard tree branches being torn savagely from foundations accompanied by the complaining cheeps of those cute little tree creatures at having their homes torn asunder by the President...again. In the growing darkness and half-dozing in the grass, IllaryHay heard the President’s whistling as he approached, and looked up to see him dragging two armfuls of branches up the trail in the dim light. Scattering a couple of limbs out as bedding he used the others to make a lean-to with only one way in and one way out.

  “How’s that,” he said upon completion and with pride in his deep, mellow voice. “Big enough for you?”

  “Yes, that will work,” she responded with a yawn, crawling in feet first she snuggled into the tender foliage, her head just sticking out the opening.

  “Ah...this feels great, but where are you going to sleep?”

  BamaOay nodded to the dark outline of a nearby tree, “Over there, sweet dreams.”

  “But, I’m not really sleepy yet. Can you tell me what it will be like to be the President...(Yawn)...after my coronation?"

  BamaOay looked at her reproachfully, “I have little to no idea what a woman as President would be like, but to be a man and President is a marvelous, stupendous thing.”

  “Okay then, tell me what that was like,” she yawned.

  “I would have to tell you my life’s story to do any justice,” he replied in return.

  “I’m not sure why, but hell, why not...go ahead.”

  And so, the President set about telling her all about his story.

  Lying on his back and looking up at the star-lite heavens, BamaOay set about his tale telling, the telling of his wonderful life as he remembered it and all that was great and wonderful about himself.

  “Once I was an average man in the nature of everyone else. I cannot explain how I know this just that I know that it was so. As a person remembers their past I vaguely remember those bygone times, too. Just as an adult recalls the events of their childhood, boyhood and youth, so I recall some of those incidents, but again, only vaguely. There was my job at the ice cream shop where I was eventually promoted from scooper to assistant manager. Then there was that one week I worked construction.” He hesitated in thought.

  “What else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What else did you do for money?”

  “I was a professional student, is that what you mean?”

  “Say, you know our work backgrounds sound awfully similar,” yawned IllaryHay.

  “You worked in construction, too?”

  “No dickhead, I was also a professional student.” (Yawn) “Please continue.”

  “You know what is odd, many of my memories are supposed to be ingrained parts of my past, so I can’t understand why have forgotten most of them? I cannot say any more than I can keep track of the myriad of classes I have slept throughout during my career as a student. One thing is certain, however, my fortunes have always been directly tied to the providence of liberalism, that and with the help and influence of people like Saul.”

  BamaOay now yawned (yawn), before continuing, “But, as I lie here hoping to fall asleep soon I still see unclearly the grand plans for my life trailing out behind me. I see the legend of a man largely created by the media. I vaguely see the outline of the person I once was, but now, I’m not sure who I really am.”

  “My bewilderment does not end with my past even though I do recall with some fond memories the part about being ‘Boy Wonder.’ How could it not be so when the soul in me has always been more wild and untamed than most. For me there has become no clear divide between that part that remains average and that part of me now that is all barbarian; not unlike a shaggy, shambling bulk that lumbers clumsily yet swiftly, sometimes upright, sometimes on all fours and who delves under rotting timbers for grubs and insects with small ears that twitch continually.”

  IllaryHay snorted, she had fallen fast asleep.

  “Why are you yawning? This is important stuff, I’ll have whole chapters of textbooks written about me.”

  He ignored her half-closed eyes and continued, “In the very beginning I was born...I was born the son of a tribesman, a man who hailed from the balmy, tropical, bug-infested jungles of Kenya. BamaOay, Sr. was sent by the tribal elders to the U.S. in a quest to raise the ‘hope’ of the people by learning to ‘change‘ the nature of their backwardness. He was abroad to learn how to move that great nation from one dependent upon only spear fishing and coconut gathering to one with real jobs and electricity. On this miss
ion he met my mother who was studying to be a social humanities major and they fell in love. BamaOay, Sr. was a practicing polygamist, so it isn’t surprising that my mother ended up being discarded soon after I was born. Mother and I lost track of dad over the years only to find he had returned to his homeland. Seems he overstayed his VISA, besides having the courts after him for unpaid child support for a couple of dozen, or more cases.”

  “I later learned that dad had succeeded in helping to bring some change back home, but little in the way of hope for the tribespeople upon his return. Every tribal village now has electrical outlets, but no electricity. Sadly my dad passed away at forty-six, but not before leaving behind a ten, or eleven wives. Yep, that was my dad.”

  The sound of IllaryHay’s heavy snoring rang out through the forest.

  Zzz...Ack-ack-ack-ackawoooo-ack-ack-ack!

  “As for me I grew up in Honolulu with my grandparents. Hawaii is a state where ninety percent of the locals are on the government dole in some way, shape, manner, or form. Outside collecting food stamps and welfare payments, to really get ahead in that liberal paradise you either had to become a really good surfer, a drug dealer, a pimp, a con artist, or become an unwed mama-san with as many kids as you could tolerate. As you might have guessed I was more suited to the role of con-artist and I must say I got really good at rolling mainland tourists unlucky enough to stumble into my neighborhood, that is until the day when I discovered I also