Mike always said that the best surprise was the kind that scared the Hell out of you at first.
Me, I always thought he was nuts. And in a sense, he was more than just a bit off.
But then, I'm not entirely sane either.
Anyway, it all started when I was out camping in the mountains of Arizona. I had been at my campsite for almost a full week when I started noticing little things missing. Mostly food items, candy bars and such. I knew I hadn't eaten them, and they were taken out of a zipped backpack.
I would have thought someone was just out robbing campers, except that the thief left a CD player and even cash that I deliberately left out one night was untouched.
A few night's later, one of my knives went missing. I didn't realize it at first, because it was a small multi-tool type knife made entirely out of titanium. I was a bit pissed about the missing knife. It had cost me a little over $100.
I moved the camp to a small valley almost 2 miles away. I found a place near a small waterfall where the water spilled into a nice wide pool just deep enough to swim in. The second day I was there, my mysterious visitor paid me another visit. I happened to be going through the pocket of the backpack where the titanium knife had been, when I felt something odd in there. I pulled it out cautiously. Whatever it was was wrapped in a soft leather pouch. I untied the drawstrings and shook the contents out into my hand. Inside were a dozen small figurines, each made from a single piece of turquoise. I carried them outside where I could get a better look at them in broad daylight. I studied the little statues through a magnifying glass. I realized with a shock that they were all little statues of me. Even through the magnifying glass, they showed incredible detail. I carefully repacked them in the pouch and put them back in the pack. I took out a package of trail mix snacks and left it on top of the pack the next day.
Sure enough, it was gone when I returned.
I had another 3 weeks to go on my vacation, and I really didn't want to move camp again. So I stayed put right there at the waterfall and just fished, relaxed, and wrote chapters in my novel. A couple of times, I could tell that someone had read my book while I was away. I didn't mind. At least someone would actually get some use out of what I wrote.
Then one night, as I lay out under the stars, just letting my mind wander, I had" what seemed to be a good idea at the time.
I wrote a note to my unseen visitor and left it among the pages of my novel. The note invited my guest to join me for supper the next night just after dark.
I went ahead and set up a second place for my hoped for guest. I cooked fish and a vegetable stew in my aluminum camp pots. Then I waited as the stew simmered.
I was about to give up and start eating when I heard something approaching my campfire. I stayed seated, trying to appear non-hostile in case my visitor was nervous.
I almost jumped out of my skin though, when that big damn grizzly bear loomed out of the night and sat down across the fire from me.
I sat very still, cussing the fact that I had left my .44 magnum revolver in the tent behind me. The bear and I stared at each other for a long moment, then the bear got to it's feet and move around the fire to where, I sat. It stood on all fours next to me and sniffed the odors from the stewpot.
I was about ready to piss myself when I noticed that I could actually see the flames of the fire THROUGH the bear. I sat still as the bear sniffed me, then ambled off into the night.
I watched it go, pivoting to keep it in sight as long as possible. When I turned back around, I almost jumped out of my skin. Sitting across from me was a girl or young woman with long black hair and skin the color of butterscotch. She wore a tunic style shirt and black jeans. She had on some nice moccasins that came up almost to her knees. She had her knees drawn up, and she rested her chin on her arms, which were folded, across her knees.
"Welcome to the fire." I said. "Would you do me the honor of dining with me?" The girl raised her head and looked at me with her eyes open wide. After studying me for a moment, she nodded.
I rose to my feet and loaded one of my aluminum trays for her. I added a fork and a spoon, and then handed them to her. She accepted them without a word.
I fetched the salt and peppershakers and set them on the rock beside her. I dug out a couple of ceramic goblets that I had brought just on the off chance that I would meet someone worth drinking with. I had carried them on camping trips since I was in the Navy. I got out the bottle of Sangria wine that I had brought for sipping, and I poured her goblet full and handed it to her.
My visitor looked surprised again, but she accepted the goblet and took a small taste.
Giving me a delighted smile, she took a larger swallow of the wine.
I sat down with my own plate and goblet. We ate in companionable silence. I refilled her plate once, and mine once. And we both had 2 or 3 goblets of wine.
The whole time, she hadn't said a single word. Not even a grunt or a belch. That was OK with me. I did the talking for both of us.
"Was it you that made those little statues of me?" I asked.
My visitor gave me a shy nod. "Well they were wonderful beyond description." I told her.
This earned me a sunny smile and a nod of acknowledgment from her.
"Not a big talker I see." I quipped.
Another nod from the visitor.
"Well I am glad to finally meet you milady." I said with a bow.
Again the nod.
"Have you been watching me and visiting me ever since I got into the mountains?"
She dropped her eyes and nodded slowly.
"I don't mind at all." I said. "Although I would have liked to have seen you before now. All the better to cherish you in my dreams and thoughts."
That bit earned me a skeptical look.
"I know," I said, "That was a bit much, but you ARE lovely, and I would like to see you again." She cocked her head to one side. "Will you please come visit me again? Soon?"
The girl pondered the question somberly, and then nodded. "Good. I like having you around."
There was a roaring sound from the trees behind the girl. In a flash, she was around on my side of the fire, crouching behind me as if hiding from whatever was out there. I took a small bag of powder from my pocket. I had been planning to use it to dislodge a boulder from the trail down into the valley, but it had other uses too...
"When I make the distraction, you scoot straight back away from me and into the trees. Whoever or whatever is out there won't see you, I promise."
Her grip on my leg tightened for an instant in answer.
I tossed the pouch of black powder into the campfire. It went up with a horrific WHOOSH! and a big flash, producing thick clouds of smoke.
I felt her hands leave my leg, and then she was gone.
More roars came from the trees, and they sounded angry now.
I took 3 long steps to my tent and knelt to reach inside. I picked up my gun belt and strapped it on.
My S&W .44 magnum was bolstered high on the right side, and my custom made bowie knife was balancing it on the left.
The knife was one I had made with an old friend of my grandpa's. We had folded and beaten the blade dozens of times, and I had deliberately cut myself and let my blood drip onto the red hot unfinished blade several times, then worked the blood and residue into the metal of the blade itself.
I had owned the knife for a good 20 years, and it was still as scalpel sharp as the day we had finished it.
The .44 was chosen because I am a big believer in the philosophy 'peace through superior firepower'.
The roars were approaching fast, along with a lot of crashing and thrashing in the underbrush. But the stream and the pond were between whatever was out there and me. So I knew that I would have time for at least 6 shots from the .44. IF that didn't do the trick, I had speed-loaders, and the Bowie to fall back on if there was no time to reload.
I could see something pacing back and forth on the other side of the stream. Whatever it was, it made the grizzly look like a fucking Chihuahua in comparison.
I couldn't see it clearly, and I had the sneaking feeling that I didn't want to see it any better.
Mike, my brother, always said I could never keep my mouth shut.
There may be some justice to this claim.
"Come on and get some ya big fuzzball!" I yelled in defiance.
The hulk across the stream stopped dead in its tracks and cocked its head as if listening to me.
"I am the left hand of Death and your certain doom." I bellowed.
I was rather proud of that one.
"Come across over here!" I screamed. "I have a good 2 foot of cold, blooded iron to shove through your gizzard!"
As a last gesture of defiance, I turned my back on the beast and farted loudly.
Then I sat down with my back to the thing and poured myself a glass of wine and drank it.
When I stood up a half hour later, the thing across the stream was gone, so silently that I never heard it leave.
I slept that night, (poorly) with my gun and knife close to hand, and I started wearing them whenever I left the campsite.
On the third evening, my visitor appeared, walking out from the trees behind my tent. As before, she didn't talk. I gave her some of my chili and an apple that I had found on a tree not far from the campsite.
This time, she sat next to me and she smiled a lot more.
When we were done eating, she stood on tiptoe and brushed my lips with a light kiss. She stepped back, blushing as if she had been greatly daring. Then she spun and ran back to the trees. She stopped on the edge of the tree line and waved. Then she turned and vanished into the woods.
Again I slept with my weapons at hand.
I went for a walk the next morning at dawn. The pond was as still as glass for the most part, and little tendrils of fog rose from its surface. I walked quietly along a path that I hadn't noticed before that lead along the pond. I heard singing and splashing ahead of me. I slowed and moved from cover to cover, not wanting to disturb whoever was out here. I thought it might be my visitor since it was a girls voice singing, but since I had never heard her speak, I could not be sure without seeing the singer.
I came to a large tree leaned out over the water. Under the trunk was indeed my visitor. Her clothing was o the shore in a neat pile. I watched a moment as she swam and dove. She had a nice body, slender but still womanly.
I decided not to invade her privacy and started to turn away. Something caught the corner of my eye. A man all dressed in black leather had stepped to the bank and was had a bow drawn and the arrow aimed at the girl's back. It was obvious that she hadn't seen him because she stood up straight and lifted her hands to run her hair through her fingers. I started to call a warning, but the archer drew his arrow back another fraction of an inch, and I had to act. I drew my revolver and snapped off a quick shot in his direction. The blast startled him and the arrow missed its mark, hissing into the water a foot from her side. His hands moving in a blur, the archer snatched another arrow from his quiver and nocked it. But by then I had the gun in both hands and the sights covered his chest. I got off two fast shots, and then I felt the rush of air as his arrow missed my ear by less than an inch. I kept the gun trained on him as I moved closer. The girl had dived away at the first sign of trouble and was nowhere to be seen.
As I approached the body of the archer, he started to sit up.
