Twisty and I make it down by the hay-barns when we start to get to people down there milling around.
"What’s happening?" I ask.
"That’s what we’re trying to figure out," one fellow who has just had his free BBQr dinner interrupted.
"It was awful," his wife puts in, "This big hairy-looking thing drops down straight out of the tree-branches, scared a bunch of people into tipping over their tables, then that thing like looks around and goes running into the hay-barn, it wasn’t human, but it was awful."
A man in a greasy ball-cap comes from around the corner.
"Clem," Twisty recognizes him.
"Hi Twisty," Clem says with a big grin, obviously he is having great fun, "I dopn’t know if it was so much scarey, but I will say this, whatever it was, it sure was homely."
"And," I advance.
"And when we heard about the BBQr, Chet closed the shop an come over. We were done eating and getting ready for the Canteloupe Eating Contest, I was going to beat Chet this time, when we heard the crackling, and the ruckus. People were yelling it was going into the barn. I look up and then I seen it."
"Seen What?" Twistine asks.
"It, What, i can’t say," Clem admits, "But you know that cable-relay system your uncle Heinrich’s gotr set-up between the barns?"
"Well, yeas," Twisty agrees, "He uses it to move big pallets of hays between the barns when and to the feedlot."
"Well I look up and see that thing standing in the haymow door, and whatever it does, grabs hold of the cable, and goes hand-over-hand, or mit over mit, all the way to the other barn."
"Quite a feat,’ I observe.
"It was," Clem agrees, "And that’s why we were all cheering him on. Makes it all the way over to the other barn, and in about a half minute we see him scoot down the chute to the big hay-rack on the south-side. Same pen where the horse people had their horses for the plowing-contest."
"My Uncle always provides complimentry timothy," Twisty informs the rest of us.
"Well whatever it was, tight-ropes along one rail of the feeder and then climbs onto the back of one of the plow horses," Clem goes on. "And of course we start cheering again, the horse looks up to see what all the hurrahhing’s about, then realizes its got this big hairy thing onits back facing the wrong direction of course. the horse gives a whinny and starts off down the pasture. We keep cheering for the creature to hang on."
"It was a wonder he lasted as long as he did," the first guy’s wife comments.
Clem grins, "Well at aome point the draft-horse uses some horse sense and realizes that he’s l;ooking pretty foolish trotting accross thepasture with this big greenish-brown hairy thing on his back, pointed the wrong way at that."
"And so what happened then?" Twistine asks.
"The Horse stopped," Clem explains.
"We were worried for a moment that that thing might fall off and get hurt," the first wife adds.
The first guy has retreived a spare, spare -ib and is a much better frame of mind, "But he didn’t," the guy explains, "The Horse just stopped and put his head down. That thing just slid backwards right up over the whithers and down the horse’s neck. That thing came down on his feet straight-up, looks like he thanked the horse, an then took off running in the direction of scrub-woods."
"Disappeared into the scrub, and that’s the last we saw of him, We gave a good cheer, and come back here," Clem explains.
Just then, the sound of a lawn tractor pulling a trailer full of ripe musk-mellon pulls up by the second barn, "Looks like their getting ready for the canteloupe contest, you entered?" the first guy asks.
"The melons areextra-good this year"’ Clem tells us.
"Been awhile since I’ve had a good melon," I’m thinking.
"All you can eat in five-minutes," the first guys assures me.
"Welll,’ I’m really thinking.
"Twisty gives me a quick elbow to the ribs, "Oh Yeah, we do have other business to get out of the way first."the first guy reassures us
"You’ll be missing out on some good melons," Clem says.
"We’ve got sort of a missing link to catch up on ourselves," Twisty explains.
"We’ll save you a melon," the first guy reassures us.
"Unless we haven’t eaten it first,’ Clem warns us, "This is a serious competition."
"Good luck," I wish the contestants well, before Twisty jerks me away and back onto our semi-serious business.