Washboard's Stage (cont'd)

Washboard's Stage (cont'd)

       by Three Men in a Tub

 I crept forward sensing the smallest rustle of twig and branch, wishing to make no noise, flooded with a tender longing to protect something and to hurt something else hurting the thing needing protection. I heard the sound again, more clearly now, as if someone were struggling in his bonds and calling for help.

       The sound came from left of the path, fifty yards away at most. I fell to my knees and moved in closer with caution and stealth. The damp earth seeped through my denim. Cobwebs tickled my ears and nose. The smell of spring grass and marshy earth lifted itself under my knees. Then ahead of me in a bit of dense foliage I saw a patch of lighter materials, and it moved.

       "Grrringahh," I heard, and ducked down. What the hell, I thought. The voice was male and adolescent, possibly that of the suspicious young man I was following. What if there was more than one bad guy here? What if a gang of young men was up to no good and I was caught spying on them?

       "Luk, Luk, Luk, snoooooowwww," another voice with a new timbre called as if someone had someone else by the throat and was suffocating him while he tried to shout for assistance. I wriggled closer on my belly to improve my perspective although I can tell you that in my heart I sorely wished to be gone from here and sitting in bored innocence before Washboard's stage.

       "Twig, twig, twing, grunt, snaaaaaapppliiiiiing," snapped out of the clearing ahead. Someone was in grave danger I thought. Should I leap up and barge in? Was there some object I might grasp in order to defend myself in case of trouble. I took up a length of deadwood that lay to hand and stood on my feet to get a better look before just running in to be of assistance.

       What I saw made my heart stand still and my pulse flutter. A young woman lay on the ground bound hand and foot, her dress up above her knees, her eyes wide and pleading. Her captors stood above her. There were three of them. One had his pants off entirely and had just turned from hanging them on a nearby branch. Another had just dropped his around his ankles. The third was loosening his belt and zipper. Now was the time to act. I jumped forward shouting.

       "Roarrrrroaaoorrr!" I screamed, sounding as ferocious as I could. "Die, Vermin!" I called in a throaty Darth Vader voice. "I am about to kill you all, you thugs, you scalloping scoundrels! You horrible, vile, vicious, virulent assholes!" I threw at them as I broke through the branches of the clearing. With my black toque and my two hundred and sixty odd pounds and the broken log I carried in my right hand and the wild steps that I trod toward them I must have presented a  fearsome sight. With a terrified interchange the three youths leapt into the air and disappeared in different directions into the woods.

       The muffled cries of the bound maiden before me caught my attention. Not wishing to delay till the return of the criminals, I picked up the young thing in my arms, her light as a feather, the adrenaline still coursing through me, and rushed down the path toward the festival grounds. Her hands and feet bound, her mouth gagged, she could do nothing to hold on or steady herself. I clasped her close so that she would not fall and soon found myself in the space behind the bazaars. Here, feeling safe at last, I laid her gently on the grass, pulled her skirt down to her knees for the sake of propriety, and cut the offending cords.

       "NNNgggggnnnaaaaaaa!" she wailed, the sounds of pain and terror escaping freely now from her fettered lips. "NNNgggggnnaaaaaas!" she called, turning toward me and throwing her arms about my neck. Her gag removed, and between sobs, she spoke to me of gratitude and relief.

       "Oooooo, you are my hero!" she allowed herself to say. I bowed with self-conscious pleaure at her tribute.

       Her name was Ellie I discovered later that day. She is a soft and warm and loving person I also discovered later that night in my tent. Her skin is as precious as dew on roses in the early hours of a late June morning. Her lips taste sweet as ice wine, so luscious, so pretty. I will not ever understand how the ruler of the universe sent me just that hour into the woods to rescue her. I am the happiest man in the world.