“Hey, Mona?”
Mona, humming to herself, “*******!”
Ralph, again, “Hey! Hey Mona!”
“What is it, Ralph?” She flips another trout into the pot.
“I don’t feel real, Mona.” His big mug wrinkles between the eyes and his cheeks droop sadly.
She stops humming. “Oh, no. Have you been looking at those sites again?”
“Can you blame me? That blasted Raven was here again. She flies around my head saying, ‘I can’t seeee you! You’re not really here!’
“Scott used to see me everywhere. But he slipped and fell into a vortex or something and now no one sees me!
“Dave hints, but what a slippery fellow! He never really says, does he?
“And I’m worried about people. They seem to be losing their sense of perspective. They used to be so much fun, Mona! They used to sense the intangible, the magical, the improbable! They saw me behind every bush!
“It was great! I had so many names! Yeti! Stick Indian! Krampus! I loved being called Abominable! Grrrrr! Whommp! Squatch! BOO!
“Now, I’m just Ralph out here in the uphill side of Snohomish County with you, Mona. I pinch myself and I feel solid enough. I smell great and I have enough hair to start a band!
“Mona, who do you love?!”
“You, you, you, I’m in love with you, you, you,” she says, in a singsong voice quoting the old song…
He picks his big chin up off of his chest and smiles a terrifically happy feral smile!
“Hey, Ralphie?”
“Yeah, what’s up Buttercup?”
“Is Thaga better lookin’ than me………?
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