The Cuckoo Colloquium

22 - Moonch

Where'd everybody go?

Moonch had left the hammock during the downpour to find a dry place to do a Number Two. It didn't seem to matter that she hadn't really eaten for two days, she could always drop an impressive load.

But this morning she'd sensed trouble. The river water was obviously rising, and so she threw some things into her little beige daypack and trooped outside to do a doodie-and check on conditions, just in case...

Her instincts may have saved her life.

"It doesn't rain like this in California," she grumbled from under a fiery red Lobster Claw plant that did little to shield her from the relentless downpour. It was as if she had stuck her head into a gushing waterfall-All she could see were wraithlike shadows, like some old person going blind.

When she returned to where she thought the hammock had been, it wasn't there-the floodwaters had swept it away! She could hear Dim screaming from somewhere, but couldn't see him through the torrent.

She trudged through the mud and the rainstorm toward what she hoped was higher ground, and when she reached a small rise, she waited there.

But no one followed; the jungle had swallowed everyone like the wake at sea from a ship.

Moonch was alone.

"Whatever," she said softly, "they're the ones who're lost, not me."

This being all by herself business gave her time to think. For starters, she had to get this sexuality thing sorted out. Did she like boys, girls, or what? When she put her arm around Nini, or the Vietnamese girl, Trang, at school, it felt good. But that didn't mean she wanted to tear the other girl's clothes off.

First off, she should choose a direction in which to head. She chose west. But she was not much for orienteering-she didn't know west; she couldn't even see the sun above the canopy, though she could tell from the occasional clearings that the brightness was coming from her right, a rising sun-in the east, of course. But once you were under the canopy again, it became a worrisome game of dizzying discombobulation.

As she trekked the rain softened and she enjoyed the wild beauty that surrounded her. She reentered the canopy, marveling at all the amazing hues and shades of green everywhere she looked. Moonch wasn't hell-fired to find anyone. Instead, they could come get her. It was just a matter of time.

She listened to the hornbills up in the high trees, and she thought again about how wonderful it would be to watch those amazing tree snakes gliding through the air like little acrobats. If she could only see them in flight, it might make this whole tribulation worthwhile.

She looked down at a couple of enormous purple pitcher plants, and she ran her fingers along their funnel shaped necks-two predatory siblings, one full of digested insects, while the other held a mouse that had foolishly tried to steal the insects from within the plant's bulbous terrestrial trap ... Moonch considered inventing a new wrestling move and calling it The Moonch Mouse Trap.

Moonch wasn't lost. Instead, she felt privileged.

She had changed since the boat accident. Moonch had a new appreciation for life that seemed to surpass the Dalai Llama. Buddhism just didn't feel right for her any more. She needed to be closer to nature, maybe even worship nature, wearing the green tones of the rain forest.

She worried about the others, though. 'Did everyone drown in the flood?' That would be horrible, all right. She was, after all, the head cuckoo, and allowing six people to wash out to sea would not look good on anyone's future resume.