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Jane, Where Are You?

I was born in the south. I live in the south and will die in the south. This is only a small part of the memories I share.

Does a woman's yell sound like the yell of a gorilla?

Does a woman's yell sound like the yell of a gorilla?

I Was Depressed, Sitting Against a Mighty Oak

in (this) summer afteroon. All that I wanted to do was to swig ice water and take a long nap against the tree where I was leaning. For awhile, it was Heaven on earth. No bird or animal calls. No human growls and no dangerous threats. It was a peace like I've never known. And I'm so selfish that I waited (for years) before sharing this with you. Guess that explains why "this" afternoon was so depressing.

And "those" dark, depressing afternoons now came every two to three weeks. Don't ask. I've never figured-out depression, nor can I tell you what it really means. But what I can tell you is that (during a depressing day), all that I want to do is weep. That's it. As for depression, I can tell you that this disease is like a "souped-up worry." This is what it was like.

No food. No sleep. And no one with me. Just a lone soul thinking of several things at one time, and not really dwelling of the many things swimming through my mind. Just sitting in my favorite chair with my favorite cup, yes, with black coffee to the brim. At least for a few minutes.

I was fighting the worst, most-painful depression that I had felt in a long time. So I thought about a visit to my bathroom, was my face with cold water, (First line iin song, "Sunday Morning Coming Down), comb what hair is left and go outside, maybe for a walk. Or drink my third cup of hot, black coffee while I sit in one of my lawn chairs which my wife, Pam, brought for us a few weeks ago. I love her. She's always that "that" gift of always visitig certain stores, but only when a sale is going on. May I add that not every single woman or wife is like that.

does the yell of a gorilla sound like a woman's yell?

does the yell of a gorilla sound like a woman's yell?

Okay. For Maybe a Few

I've found my way around my block. Not for a while now. I've been too busy. Lots of things to do and think about. Time for my fourth cup of hot, fresh coffee . . .and that will be "it" for a few hours. By 3 p.m, I will drink a pot of this Nectar of Olympus, before I retire at 11 p.m, I don't really know. I love our new satellite TV. I can enjoy a lot of classic things--Highway Patrol, Gunsmoke (black and white version), The Closer and many more. (No. This is NOT a plug for the TV company that hooked me up. I don't choose to say anymore.

Just as good as anyone. Aha1 There goes my good friend, "Olan," a retired city mechanic, self-taught mechanic (ran his own shop at his home), and I have to say just how deeply that Pam and I love him. He has never said no, to our many times that we needed him. Wish that he would rub a little bit of himself to me. I would not complain.

Just then . . .Ahhhhggggggahhhhhhh . . ." What a masculine yell! Yes, a yell. The only yell that could come near "this" yell is a Silver Back Gorilla. And none of these guys live around our place. Not that we are of the Upper Crust, it's that these majestic beasts do not demand what they want . . .they get it. No asking.
I walk a few steps toward my back door. I can just taste my hot, fresh coffee. Yes, I thought to myself. After that loud yell, I could use it. Then again .

..AhhhhhhGGGGgggghhuhhhhh! NO! Can't be. The same sound as the other yell now not 20-minutes ago. The hair on my neck began to raise-up. My hands shook. Time to forget coffee, hold it! Not that! Time to take cover and be as quiet as a church mouse. I've known a few church mice and they are quiet.

Back Inside My House

I crawled. Did not dare give myself away to whatever or whomever it was yelliing. At me? Don't know. Not roaring-out to find out. My wife was stunned. I explained the two yells that took the hair stand-up on my back. Then, as I normally-do, say something innocent, but really very stupid. Did you do that yelling, Pam? Silence. I kept laying on our carpet in our living room. Pam didn't say a word. Just her standing over me with that glare which told me that I was going to die.

"So I'm a Silver Back Gorilla, huh?" Pam snapped. Then pulled-back the shades of our living room.

"NO! A dozen NO's! It was something out there . . .or some-one who is doing a great job of scaring me by sounding a LOT like a fully-grown gorilla, Pam! Please believe me!" I said.

Then, something inside of me made me slowly stand-up or try to stand-up. But as soon as I was standing, AHHHHHggggggUHHHHHH! "That's three!" I yelled, not not caring if there were one or five gorillas. Pam and I were under attack. Time to make a stand or leave! I chose standing, if that didn't work . ..leave before whatever it was recognized us and tried to make garden salads out of us. Where was Jane Goodall when you need her?

Author, "Gorillas in The Mist," Gorilla expert, Jane Goodall.

Author, "Gorillas in The Mist," Gorilla expert, Jane Goodall.

Our Saga Ended When I

ran back to the tree were I was sitting when this trauma began. Pam had told me verbatim that if y,(you) want to head-out and take-on the gorilla's or whatever, that was fine, but not her. The events happened in perfect unison: a mild breeze blew across my chair, head, and empty coffee cup. 2.The limbs from our trees danced for a minute and stopped. 3. Silence. Honestly, I felt as if I had died and went to His judgement beyond reality and man's foolish vanities.

These next statements I do not expect any of you to believe, just read . ..
The wind began to blow, but just above the level of gentle, a nice breeze. Pam was, like she said, inside our house and looking safe; I felt ready to head to Heaven (not boasting myself of anything); the wind ceased; a moderately-sized flock of black birds jumped from their roost, our highest power line, and hit the silk; silence; I didn't dare move; Then I heard in the distance, a beast or huge machine coming through the woods near our home.

I was relieved. It was one of the state highway department's huge earth-movers getting to where it was needed. But in the woods? Nope. I am stupid, but not that stupid. Am I right?

Then I saw a kid, a boy about 10, maybe 12, walking out of those woods and had his right hand up in the air as if he were leading . . .uhhhhh, SOME one, or some THING. Pam and I never moved. If you had been there, neither would you.
Just as we both were feeling that the danger was over, we both stepped back into our open carport and we started to just sit in our chairs to where this saga began. As she sat down, and I sat down and laughed, there was THAT sound . . .AAAAAhhhhhhggggAAAAuggghhhhh,!

We slowly looked at each other, and noticed our hands shaking.
Then took our time and made the few steps to our back door.

Epilogue; was this piece fantasy or truth? And has any of you ever had something like this happen to you? Be honest. I did.

April 12, 2021____________________________________________________

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© 2021 Kenneth Avery

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