Bogdon gave me a handful of tomatoes and grapes. I passed the stuff over to Toby and I added a couple of leftover French fries. Toby put these new snacks on the napkin and we sat back and waited.
In just a few seconds, the tail came back up on the table. It looked like a little furry periscope as it examined the goodies. Obviously, the tail could not decide what to choose, since it disappeared from sight.
Then, as we watched quietly, two little black hands with long fingers appeared on the edge of the table. Slowly, a the top of a head appeared as well, moving higher and higher until we saw two eyes. An entire furry little face soon followed.
“It's a prehensiled primate,” Bogdon whispered.
“What?” squeaked Freddie.
“A monkey,” Bogdon replied, keeping his voice low.
Of course! That's what I saw drinking from the dog water trough.
“Is anyone here a monkey?” whispered Charlie, referring to our animal spirit guides.
“No,” I responded quietly. “But, Bogdon's a raccoon.”
“Raccoons aren't monkeys,” Bogdon protested. “Why, they aren't even simians.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Charlie dismissed his pleas. “They're small furry creatures with hands and a tail. So Simian or not Bog, you're up.”
Bogdon shrugged his shoulders. He realized protesting was not going to change anything. So, he slowly stood up from the table and picked up the bowl of grapes. Moving as measured as a minute hand, Bogdon approached the creature.
Bogdon squatted as he moved toward our visitor. A few feet away he stopped.
Without saying a word, Bog pulled a green grape from the cluster and pitched it gently towards the monkey. It hit the ground a few feet away and rolled. The creature stretched out a long arm and picked up the grape. He lifted it up to his face and studied intently. Finally, he was satisfied it was a genuine Thompson seedless and not some evil plot. The furry little guy popped the green orb into his mouth, chewed and swallowed.
Bogdon flipped him another. Then another and another. The monkey ate ravenously. (I guess he could join our club.)
Finally, Bogdon leaned in and extended the bowl.
Realizing he was in no danger from the be spectacled Ranger, the wooly monkey inched in toward Bogdon and pulled out his own grape.
I guess monkeys and raccoons must have some kind of kinship. Within minutes the creature was sitting in Bogdon's lap sipping sweet tea through a straw and finishing our leftovers.
“Where do you suppose he came from?” asked Freddie.
“Probably from one of the boats tied up at the waterfront,” answered Donnie. “We should head up to the Harbor Master's office and see if anyone's reported a lost monkey?”
When Orion came back with our check, she was startled to see she had another customer. But, she took it stride and was soon ohhing and ahhing over our new friend.
Toby put lunch on the club debit card and added a nice tip. Then we all got up slowly, so we wouldn't startle the simian. We left Gills using the back entrance and strolled down the boardwalk along the water front.
There's nothing like strolling along with a monkey on your shoulder to draw a crowd. Fortunately Shad had a remedy for the growing band of followers.
“Stand back folks,” Shad announced. ”He bites. He has fleas. And, he likes to throw poop!”
That scattered the followers.
We were just passing the fanciest yachts in port when we were hailed from onboard ship. Or, I should say the monkey was hailed.
“Fallwerk! Fallwerk! Hier ist es! Herkommen.”
A tall young woman came hurrying down the gangplank of Ivanna Crump's Yacht. She was addressing the monkey in German. And, she was quite fetching.
My outstanding impression of this monkey lady, was that she had the longest legs and the highest cheekbones of any woman I have ever met. Her eyes were covered with expensive fashion sunglasses and a wide brimmed straw hat protected her from the harsh Carolina sun. She wore enormously high heeled clogs, and it was amazing she could run across the uneven weathered dock without taking a header.
She was barely covered by a long lavender polo shirt that I guess was a dress. It made you wonder if she had shorts on underneath. But, I don't think she did!
“Ewek,” the monkey screamed.
He leaped off of Bogdon's shoulder and ran out to the dock, heading towards the newcomer.
It was a happy reunion for the lady and the monkey, filled with plenty of hugs and kisses. Following the initial joy of the return, the young woman shook her finger at the monkey and scolded him in German. But, she could not stay angry with the sweet faced little fur ball.
Eventually, the monkey lady turned her attention toward us. She walked to the end of the dock and stepped up onto the boardwalk. She maintained a tight grip on her errant Fallwerk as she spoke.
“Who vas de von who found my minkey?” she asked.
We were awed by this beautiful woman and her strange European manner. I don't think anybody responded out loud. We just pointed at Bogdon.
“You found my minkey?” she asked.
“Ahh.. yes. Er.. ah.. he found us. He came up to the table down at Gills. We gave him some grapes and we were carrying him to the Harbor Master to see if he was reported missing.”
“Vas is your name?” she inquired. But, with her German accent it sounded more like a demand.
“Ah.. I'm Bogdon. Bogdon Peabody.”
The lady stretched out a long tanned arm, offering Bogdon an open hand with delicate fingers and manicured nails.
“I am glat to meet choo, Bogdon Peabody. My name is Heidi Zoom.”
Bogdon reached out and shook hands.
“Zie minkey must haff vondered off last night. And, I vas vorried zick! Und, I am zo grateful to you und your friends. Please come abord zee boat und have lunch mit me.”
Bog replied, “that’s very kind, Ma’am. But, we just finished eating.”
“Ah. Perhaps anozer time. In any case, I zank you very much.”
Then, she leaned down and nailed Bogdon with a huge kiss. And, I am not talking about on the cheek, either. She smacked him right on the lips!
“Zank you very much, Boogdon Peabody.”
She smiled and started to walk off, when Toby spoke up. He pulled out his camera phone.
“Miss Zoom? Perhaps I can get picture of you and Bogdon together?”
Heidi Zoom turned around and smiled.
“But of course. Make sure you get all zree of us in ze photo.”
Ms. Zoom, squeezed into the picture, still holding the monkey tightly in her arms. Bogdon gave a huge blushing grin. Heidi Zoom flashed a perfect smile and a whole lot of leg!
Toby clicked the camera phone button. Twice.
Ms. Zoom thanked us all once more and turned and walked back down the dock towards the yacht.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Charlie launched in. “Holy Cow! That was Heidi Zoom!”
“Good catch, Professor Einstein,” Freddie snorted. ”We should move you up to double A.”
“You don't understand, Goofball. That was Heidi Zoom! Heidi Zoom, the German Super Model, Heidi Zoom!”
“Oh…” said Freddie feeling foolish. “That Heidi Zoom. What's she doing in Beaufort?”
“She must be friends with Ivanna,” Toby suggested.
“Well I'm glad we got a picture,” said Charlie. “Else, no one would ever believe it.”
I know it was mean, but I could not resist.
“Heidi Zoom's is awfully pretty. But, I always pictured Bogdon with someone a little smarter. Maybe someone like Stuart Sonoma.”
“What!” choked Shad incredulously. “You mean that crazy girl from Lenoir that's always trying to beat us in the County Science Fair? Jeep, you've been out in the sun way too long.”
We turned and began walking back down the street, and I let the subject drop. After all, I was watching Bogdon cl
osely, and I got the exact reaction I was expecting.
*************
We spent our last couple of hours in Beaufort visiting the Maritime Museum. The Museum is a beautiful facility built toward the end of Front Street. It was designed like an old time sailors home with shake siding, and a third story tower complete with a widow's walk. It houses a collection of neat sailing antiques and unusual sea life specimens. It also has a genuine Fresnel lighthouse lens although it was is smaller than the one that was originally at Cape Lookout.
In addition, the Museum displays artifacts from a nearby shipwreck that is believed to be the Queen Anne's Revenge, onetime flagship of Blackbeard the Pirate. There are cannon and cannon balls, lots of ships tools and instruments, and plates and cups and knives. But, there is not any treasure.
When the QAR ran aground outside of the harbor, any treasure onboard was quickly transferred to a back up ship. The English Navy was already hunting pirates in the area so anything heavy or easily replaced was left behind in the rush.
Although Blackbeard escaped the grounding of the Queen Anne's Revenge, he met his demise a months later off of Okracoke Island. The Royal Navy caught up with the Pirate just sixty miles north of where we were standing.
I know what you are thinking. With Pirates around here there must be plenty of Pirate treasure. “Jeep, you find the gold, while we get the shovels.”
But, the reality is that the area has been picked pretty clean. Folks began searching for treasure in Beaufort Inlet the day after Blackbeard sailed off. They've used metal detectors and magnetometers and even satellite photography.
Of course, that does not mean everything has been found. And, I have kept my ears open as I have walked up and down the waterfront. But, this was not a treasure expedition. We were here to save a whale.
At 5 O'clock, we picked up our rental boat at the Beaufort Marina. It was a 23 foot fiberglass model with an open top and dual 75 horse power engines. We did not need all that speed. But we did need two engines, so we would not be left drifting in the ocean if one broke down.
Donnie had to sign for the boat we reserved, since he was the adult. The rental guy gave us the once over like he was trying to figure out what we were really up to. But, he settled down after we agreed to pay for the insurance waiver. Of course the rental fee went right through on the club debit card. So, we strapped on our life jackets and headed out before anyone stopped us.
By a quarter after five, we were motoring down Taylor's creek admiring the boats at anchor and waving at folks enjoying an early supper along the waterfront. We figured this was a no wake zone, so we kept the speed down until we hit the end of Carrot Island and entered into Core Sound. Donnie gave the boat some gas and made a direct line over to Shackleford Banks.
Late afternoon was becoming evening while we glided along the bay waters. Donnie picked up a little more speed, but he was still keeping the lid on. After all, we knew at least one Manatee was in the area.
The sky was clear and the Bay wind felt cool, riding in our very own boat. And, as we glided along with the wind in our hair and the spray in our face, Freddie posed a question.
“Hey guys? Does a super model, like Heidi Zoom, beat a swimsuit model like in Sports Illustrated?”
“That depends,” Charlie answered authoritatively. ”A super model beats a swimsuit model, if the swimsuit model is in regular clothes. But, a swimsuit model beats a super model if she's in her swimsuit.”
“Oh. Okay,” said Freddie. “But what about a Victoria's Secret Model? Does she beat a swimsuit model.”
“Yes.” Charlie answered definitively.
“So…” Freddie summed up. “A super model beats a swimsuit model in street clothes. A swimsuit model in her suit beats a super model. And, a Victoria's Secret model is at the top of the list.”
“Exactly,” Charlie assured him.
At that point Toby Trundle, our most thoughtful Ranger entered the conversation.
“Guys. I think that might be a little superficial. It may even be demeaning to reduce a beautiful woman like Heidi Zoom to a simple label. Even if it is Super Model. Heidi does lots of things besides just stare at a camera. You can't just condense her life to a short tagline. She is more than just a Super Model.”
Toby paused for a second for us to consider his words.
“Heidi Zoom is a Super Model - with a monkey!”
“Of course,” Bogdon responded. “We ignored the simian factor.”
“Exactly,” Toby concurred. “And, a Super Model with a monkey trumps a Swimsuit Model or even a Victoria's Secret Model any day of the week.”
“Absolutely,” we all agreed.
Following Toby's observations we cruised in silence for a while, re-evaluating our world view.
************
Chapter 16 – First Contact
They were waiting for us about half way down the backside of Shackleford Banks.
They were not grazing on the sea oats and salt grass springing up just above the tide mark. They were not wondering slowly along the sandy low tide beach that bordered the calm dark waters of the Sound.
They were not coming or going. Or, eating. Or, conversing. Or, even just hanging out.
They were waiting… for us. And, there were two of them.
One stood about fourteen hands high, was chestnut brown with a blondish mane that fell in his eyes except when it the soft evening breeze blew it aside.
He had a white spot on the center of his forehead. There was another white mark at the top of his nose, and the two were linked by a ragged white line that stretched the entire length of his face. His large brown eyes had a mournful quality, from a life burdened with struggle.
The smaller one was pure white, although sand and red soil stained his little legs where they were closest to the ground. There was some staining around his mouth and his nose where it dragged along the earth as he grazed. But, he was pure white.
His white mane blew across his white ears. His youthful body was covered with a course unbrushed white coat. And, surprisingly long white hair fluttered down in a majestic tail that must have been unusual for a banker pony – especially one so young.
We were moving along slowly, lost in thought and scenery. We'd seen dozens of banker ponies, since we got here. So, at first, we did not realize these two were anything special. I kept expecting them to run off at the sound of our outboard engines.
But, they did not move. They did not run off. They were not spooked when we passed within yards of their position.
They just stood there staring at us. And, it seemed unreal as our eyes locked with theirs.
It was obvious they were trying to tell us something. They were not speaking, but they were intelligent creatures trying to converse in silence.
It was like making First Contact with a race of intellectual equines.
Thor broke the spell as he ordered us to make landfall. He turned away from the horses and looked straight at Donnie.
“Pull Over! Pull over, right now! They need our help.”
Donnie did not protest. He just threw the throttle into reverse causing the props to bite deeply into the water, quickly slowing our forward progress. Within seconds he was maneuvering our small craft up to the bank. Since it was low tide our bow slid right into the sandy beach.
Thor wasted no time as he clambered up onto the bow and jumped off.
Splash!
He gave no thought to waiting for us. He just sloshed through some ankle deep water and then onto the beach. Once he was on firm ground, he hurried over to the horses.
One by one, the rest of the guys began jumping off behind Thor. Because I was in back, waiting for my chance, I got to watch as Thor approached the two sentinels.
They continued to stand like statues until Thor approached them. He reached up and rubbed the Brown with his left hand and the White with his right. He cautiously tried to whisper soft assuran
ces but as he bent over to speak – the two equines finally stirred and snorted.
Two long faces turned toward each other and exchanged a glance. Then, the Brown took off and trotted down a well worn path through the marsh grass. The White trotted along behind until they climbed a small rise, where they stopped and turned back to Thor.
I could not hear a word. But I swear they were saying: “Are you coming or what?”
Thor wasted no time. He followed them up the path. And, as he approached the pair, they turned around and headed off. The group of three disappeared over the rise about the time it was finally my turn to jump down from our vessel.
“You guys be careful. I’ll stay with the boat,” Donnie called after us.
If we were thin skinned, we might have been offended that Thor just ran off and left us behind. But, we realized he was operating on instincts that we did not have. You see Thor's spirit animal guide is the horse. We accepted he was just trying to do his bit for the herd. We did not sweat it as we jogged after Thor and his two friends.
(By the way, we never dreamed that this animal spirit thing would come in so handy when we received it from the Cherokees. This was the second time today!)
The marsh grass quickly morphed into the thorny thicket of a maritime forest with stunted trees and deep brush. But, the trail provided a passage through the overgrowth. After about forty yards we popped out into a clearing where the brush gave way to grass and the grass gave way to mud.
As we came upon the scene we heard a muffled splash. We arrived just in time to see Thor plunging into the mud pit. And, as we watched, he quickly sank from knees to waist to belly button.
With determination, he pushed into the center of the pit. Mud had to be squishing in Thor's armpits by the time he got the middle where we could see a large muddy head and two ears straining just above the surface.
Yesterday's thunder storm had left a deep muddy sinkhole that someone wandered into.
“Its okay fella,” I heard him say. “We’re here to help you. It’s gonna be okay.”
At first blush, I thought the young colt was tiny. But, as Thor reached under and lifted the horse’s body, I could see that size wise he was somewhere between the Brown and the White.
Unfortunately, as Thor lifted, the horse went up and Thor went down. Now, Thor’s head was just above the surface. Luckily, the horse did not struggle or it might pushed our friend under.