Let's Get Ferdy Dirty!

 

 

            York was the first to speak, which was unusual because he was not a talker. Not usually.
            Three young Squatchii were conversing among themselves soon after the bearish events of the previous episode where the exquisite Ferdy and the comely Constance had finally agreed to marry.
            You will remember these fellows, the famous jokers, minus Ferdy.  They attended Cherry’s birth party and the Arboreal Olympiad. Their number comprised Melvin, short for a Squatch at six feet tall and all black like one of those all black chickens, skin and all.  Next Larry, tall and rangy and a little argumentative, reddish in color. Then there was York. A truly frightening character, 8 feet tall and not jolly.
            They weren’t really mad at Ferdy. But they felt he had gotten the best of them in the game of love and that he owed them. What was at issue was what exactly he owed them.
            All of them had also seen her at the birth party. They had cheered and hooted as forcefully as had Ferdy, and yet somehow he had come out ahead.
            Said York, “I think it’s because he’s so pretty. He is too clean too. That must be the source of his strange power over the girl.” Much grunted approval ensued. Also, some snickering and grinning. If they had had the stuff, they would have all popped another bottle or can.
            Melvin had an idea. “Say, you know, um, in the cities and farms and everywhere, when a man is successfully roped into a marriage arrangement, his friends get together, and they have a party in his honor.”
            Larry said, “oh, some of you guys want to do everything like they do! Next they’ll be getting a preacher to do a proper human ceremony! May as well start wearing clothes and get a job in town I say!”
            “Oh, never mind that,” said York. “We don’t need to have a human style bachelor party.  Those are scary anyhow and somebody always ends up spending the night in jail, don’t they? Isn’t that traditional?  I say we do this like Men of the Forest!”
            “So, what do you have in mind,” asked Melvin.
            “Well, listen. I’ll tell you…..” giggled York, which was actually scarier than when he glowered.

*0*

            Ferdy was strolling his way between here and there, down any forest path. It didn’t matter which. His head was in the clouds. He was delirious, floating on poofy clouds of happiness and expectation.

             He was an easy target.

            Poor old Ferdy. Someone bunged a bag over his head from somewhere out of the blue. Six strong hands grabbed his elbows and shoulders and marched him along downhill, down to where the river ran. They were too much for him.  He wriggled and yelled and hooted and kicked, but there was no way of escape for pretty Ferdy.
            Down by the river, they got poor Ferdy…wait, sounds like a song.  Never mind.
            First they got him all soppy wet. No big deal! But then, they packed his exquisite brown pelt all full of mud, then they stuck it full of twigs, flowers and vines. His innate grace remained but not his glamour.
            Nobody said a word so he would never guess who they were! Well, actually he knew.
            At last, finished with their work they marched him, in all his glory, to the home clearing by the cave, where everything happens, and Constance was at her duties again, just like the other day.
            Struggling and howling, Ferdy was presented to Constance. The bag was removed from his head, and he was released. There he stood, muddy and sad.
            “How do you like him now, Constance,” asked York, with a naughty grin. “Is he not the prettiest fellow you have ever seen?”
            “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a replacement,” said Melvin.
            “Any of us are available,” said Larry. “And we’re clean!,” he giggled. “We smell good too.”
            Now, Constance, in spite of her flighty earlier days, was a good girl, and rather wise. She sized up the whole scene and perceived it as a sort of test of her devotion to Ferdy. She knew just what to do to put all into its proper place.
            She stood up, from where she had been pounding hazel nuts into paste, and she went to him.  She threw her arms around him, mud and twigs and all.
            “Why yes he is the best looking fellow I have ever seen, unlike some others hanging around,” said she, looking around. “Some others who couldn’t match him no matter how clean they were!”
            To Ferdy, she said, “hi baby. Let’s go swimming shall we? I’d like to go swimming right now this very minute.” Arm in arm they wandered happily to the river, shedding mud and debris as they went.
            York, Melvin and Larry just had to accept the fact that she really did love him.  And they were actually okay with that. Also, they were rather tired, and hungry too.
            Ralph took pity on them and invited them out to his cedar log for a beer and maybe even a cigar. He remembered being an idiot long ago too. After their beer, nobody wanted a cigar, they went back to the fire and joined Ramona and the kids for a nice dinner, of trout with hazel nut stuffing, one of her specialties.