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The second story from rural America, where the guns outnumber the cell phones, and you have to be half crazy, in order to remain halfway sane.
Any similarity to persons, places or events, either real or fictitious, is most likely a coincidence. As any small town local knows, everything that could ever happen has already happened to someone, somewhere, at least once. Usually, it's happened to an acquaintance of a distant cousin, whom no one has ever met.
The names of the characters have been omitted to protect their lack of similarity to any other characters, either real or fictitious.
People in the rural US like their rock and roll as much as anyone, anywhere. There are a number of small, but very talented bands which play for fun, money and beer. They make their bookings at the local drinking establishments on the weekends, and work at their other jobs during the week. This is the story of a disaster ( or daring escape, depending on your point of view ) which occured after one such gig, on a hot summer's night in the late '70's
The band had wrapped up a great night. The crowd was enthusiastic, their playing was right on, everything was perfect. The boys in the band were still wound for sound, so after the gig they went to meet a few friends in a small clearing out in the middle of the woods for a little undisturbed wild partying.
The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. There was still plenty of everything to go around. Somebody had secured some wacky weed, homegrown in some private patch. The boys from the band got all set to have a really good time.
Then the police came.
All Hell broke loose. People grabbed the stash and scattered into the woods, hoping to disappear into the brush until the raid was over. Most of them had never been in those woods before, and ran in blind circles. Some had been partying awhile, and their sense of judgement was, shall we say, a little impaired. The police had an easy time combing the woods, rounding people up.
Then the Wildman came.
Police later reported that a huge, hairy creature, seven or eight feet tall, crashed through the brush toward them, then cut right through the crowd in the clearing before disappearing into the woods on the other side. All the while, the creature emitted ear-splitting, inhuman screeches, interspersed with explosive barks and what looked like fire.
All Hell broke loose. Police and partiers alike scattered into the woods, hoping to disappear into the brush until the apparition had gone. None of the police had ever been in those woods, and many wandered around in blind circles, unable to find their way back to the site of the raid after the commotion had died down. The flashing beacon provided by the lightbars of the police cars had mysteriousley disappeared. The police and their intended arrestees were alone in the dark, unfamiliar woods, with an unknown, hairy, seven or eight foot tall creature, later dubbed the Wildman.
By dawn, the partiers regained enough wit to slip off into the woods, eventually managing to find sanctuary - and a much-needed crash on the sofa - in the homes of friends and/or relatives. Stumbling onto one of those isn't hard in an area where everybody knows and/or is related to everyone else.
The police eventually made their way back to the station. The mystery of why the lights went out was eventually solved - only be replaced by the mystery of the missing police cars.
A rather confused report was filed, leading to a cautious expedition into the woods ( during the day ) in search of the Wildman - and the missing police cars. The explosive barks and fire are believed to have come from a rifle, stolen from one the trunk of one of the vehicles.
The police cars were never found. Local legend has it that they're buried in an unmarked grave, somewhere in the mountains.
As for the Wildman: there have been a few scattered sightings over the years, but no substantial evidence has ever been found. That's a shame, because that hairy monster sure could play a great rendition of Wipe Out, and I hear the band is thinking of having a big reunion, maybe in the very same piece of woods where the Wildman originally scared the bejeebers out of everyone all those years ago.
© 2001 , Michelle Houghtaling