How to Meow in Yiddish: Nikky And Ramona Have Some Chocolate And A Chat

The old ma’am who manages my building is one of The Who’s My Generation. Coming home to my unit involves threading my way through her many artistic endeavors in the hallway, bless her heart. Myrna. She had student sculpture pieces and potted plants creating a baffled pathway in the first-floor hall, and many startling paintings on the walls. I believe that she was an art instructor in her younger days.
Having achieved entry into my own doorway, I greeted Richard the cat warmly. “Hey, hairball!” He shifted slightly in his sleep. His life is hard.

I set the new old phone on my kitchen table. I would briefly be a professional telephone sanitizer. H/T Douglas Adams. But office décor had to wait. I had a job to prepare for!

I hauled my college era backpack out of the back of my closet and flopped it onto my bed. I tried to imagine everything I could possibly use for this incursion into the Baker National Forest “in search of!” Nikky style. The list was pretty obvious. My best camera, and a GoPro for those active shots. Food and water for the day. A nylon raincoat. Extra socks. One of those beacons you take with you so you can be found in an emergency. Good strong flashlight. Compass. Solar charger for the mobile phone. A topographical and street map of the whole area. Of course, I would bring my Grampa’s Colt 1911, just in case. I had his holster too and an extra box of ammunition, besides that in the gun. Bit of a heavy load, but not too bad.

I thought I had better bring some sort of enticement for the wild woman. All females love chocolate, (rank exaggeration) so I would get her some Dove singles on the way to the mountain. If I never find her, I can eat them! Her loss, babies!

There is no time like the next day. So next day, a misty cool one, I drove Elise out of town, not forgetting to pick up the Dove chocolate, and some protein bars for me. Elise was full of gas and panting for the highway! We drove up the I-5 to Arlington, took the 530 and headed eastward up into the foothills of the Cascades. It took around two hours to get to the mountain. There is a forest service turnoff on the left when you get close. That is where I was heading. It was there that my quarry was last spotted, if she was, by the student group. I felt hopeful and full of beans. My first job as an investigator! Just for Steve, but he said he would pay me to protect his professional reputation.

This forest road is not paved. It is dirt in places and gravel in others. It is long and windy and today was rather gloomy even though it was still before noon. The trees crowded closely against the road. I saw no other traffic. It can be a little risky ranging up there because of informal target practice. Let the traveler beware!

Way uphill on the road I found a wide spot and parked Elise. I got out and stood there looking at the scene. The sky was full of obscured light, and mist hung in the treetops. Normally you can see clear to the Sound from here but not this day. I pulled my pack out of the back seat, got Grampa’s 1911 settled on my right hip and hoisted the pack onto my shoulders. I remembered to turn my beacon on too.

How to find her? I thought that I would look for appealing meadows and berry patches way away from the road. Downhill looked the best. I could see areas of grass and small brush down there.

I have a great deal of faith in the essential snoopiness of female hominids. BTDT. I figured that if I was within scenting distance, she would come to check me out. Ever optimistic is my motto. I was wearing the strongest scents I could find in my collection, including menthol lotions and not fancy colognes. I figured I was sending my invitation far and wide. I had the Dove singles ready to hand.

I wandered off the road and down into the tall grass and Fireweed. There was no trail for me to follow. I was breaking a trail myself. I kept going until I could no longer see Elise. The sun began to emerge through the mist. It got warmer. I looked for a place to sit and wait for her to smell me out. It was a fine August day, and the blackberries were ripe. I know this because I found a field of vines and a nice fallen log to sit on. In the silence I began to hear some bird chatter, and some insect noise nearby.

I was sitting there on my log checking on the chocolates, to make sure they were ok, when I heard a sound behind me like somebody was tickling Nina Simone! The sound came from about seven feet up in the air and maybe ten feet behind me.

All the tiny hairs on my arms and neck stood up. My life may have flashed before my eyes. I considered not turning around. Ever.

A deep breathy voice, as if some female earth spirit had spoken, said, “hey Stinky, why are you sitting here on a log smelling like that?”

I set the piece of chocolate down on the log, and finally turned around.

There she was, grinning at me. She had a kind of glowing golden nimbus around her whole body. It was hard to tell where the golden curls ended, and the glow began. She was big! I would say a muscular 300lbs. She had deep set dark brown eyes. Huh, brown eyed true blonds are rare! Her nose was rather small and flat. She had a wide, very amused looking mouth.

She had a kid on her right hip with her long arm wrapped around him. He observed me with quiet interest. I must have looked like a space alien to him.

Finally, I said, “my name is Nikky. What’s yours?” Why not? I was living a dream. May as well be polite. “I smell like this because I thought I might attract your attention that way.”

That voice like German Chocolate cake with a hint of musk said, “in your language I am Ramona. I smelled you from the next valley down there. This is Twigg. Say, is that chocolate you have there?”

“Why yes, it is! I have quite a lot of it here. Have a seat? I will share,” said I. Hm, so she knows chocolate!

She shimmered around the end of the log like the famous dream walking, light as air, and sat on my right side. We three finished off the pound bag of Dove. I gathered all the foil wrappers, put them in the bag and stuffed the bag in my pack which was on the ground between my feet.

“I see that you are armed Nikky. Did you think I would attack you?” asked Ramona.

“Oh, Steve, the guy who put me up to this trip, wanted me to be safe, you know,” I answered. “He doesn’t even know if you are real. He sure didn’t know what your attitude would be.

“He is a guy who can’t admit to wondering about it professionally. But he still wants to know if you are really here. Some students he sent up here said they saw you!”

Feeling braver, I said, “he asked me to get some photos or video recordings.”

“Oh, Nikky. I don’t know. That’s kind of against my policy,” said she. She took a moment staring out over the field of vines and the treetops and even squinted up at the sky. She looked a bit blue about the whole thing.

Finally, she said, “how would you like to come see the cave and maybe ask Ralph what he thinks about photos?”