The Cuckoo Colloquium

11 - Windy

The force of the blow drew them all backwards. Windy dropped both his can of cuttlefish and something called Kickapoo Joy Juice.

The boat pieces rained down on them. Windy crouched in fear of being mortally stabbed, or decapitated, by the hundreds of pointed shards of wood. There were loud rustlings behind him as pieces of the boat landed in the branches of the trees, and the birds responded to the noisy intrusion by squawking in protest.

A big piece of raggedy board plopped down from the sky next to him: Positive New Attitudes! said the stenciled phrase on the stern of the boat, now face-up at Windy's feet.

What remained of the purple and yellow boat was the squarish bow, where Moonch had stood. But then it turned upright, and only the white hull remained, bobbing as it floated downstream and away, dying colorless, minus the kitschy purple or yellow, and with dignity.

Poor master sergeant Moonch. Windy didn't like her much, but no one deserved to check out like that. She was their de facto leader, too; not a particularly good one, but one, nonetheless.

Now, with Moonch out of the picture, who remained to de facto lead the survivors to safety? The group needed someone with warrior blood, a level 80 enforcer type, a spearhead, to lead the way in Death Trap Borneo ... They needed half Tarzan, half crocodile ... They needed Tarcodile!

... So what would de facto spearhead Tarcodile do now?

It wouldn't be pleasant, but he joined Dim in wading out to where Moonch had hit the water. Someone had to retrieve the body before she turned puffy and black. Outback and Puso then splashed in after him, and all four guys bobbed and dipped like ducks in the search party for the deceased master sergeant.

"Moonch!" he hollered, dog-paddling along in the hopes of spotting her remains on the surface.

Outback popped up next to him. "Are you touched in the head, Yank? They only float once they've gassed up."

Windy paddled away from the Aussie, needing his own body-hunting space. He ducked and kicked at the muddy bottom. Then he lurched to the shallows, and then walked back upstream, like the others, to look once more.

They found nothing. After a half-hour they gave up and traipsed back to the girls through foliage that was thick-going in some places. When they rounded a copse of elephant-eared palms, the four body-hunters stopped cold.

Moonch was sitting there by the water on a near-decayed stump, staring at the river with a world-weary frown, with Pinky Bell and Nini patting her on the back, and giving gentle reassurances.

Windy was the first to articulate his thoughts. "You sure can make a splash - That was a cannonball for the ages!"

Moonch didn't answer; she just sat on the rotting stump as if undergoing serious life reflection.

Windy wondered what de facto leader Tarcodile should do now: Could Moonch walk? Should they follow the river back to Cuckoo Camp? But Dim had zigzagged on so many little waterways, it was most likely hopeless.

Dim took his balled up I got laid in Thailand T-shirt out of his pants pocket and rolled it back on again. "Boats always on the river." He puffed out his chest as if he had just made some great declaration. Somehow, he was able to hang on to the red-feathered bowler hat, which he then cocked back.

"Ours isn't," Windy said, looking at the quiet water.

The river seemed motionless. A couple of passing birds flew quickly by and flapped their wings. But it was a sudden, unpromising sound.