The Haunted Outhouse, Part 3

Book Three That Was Never Meant To Be

Chapter 21

It was a peaceful Texas morning as St. Taw left Austin for Dime Box. Who knew then what storm clouds lay ahead.?

St. Taw was driving a Lincoln Continental, courtesy of the Alamo Car Rental Company. In fact, due to St. Taw's celebrity status (he was a confidante of many a Hollywood stars bowel movement habits), just about everything he did was free. St. Taw's reputation had been established when he wrote a series of books detailing how nature was more important than nurture in raising a child. Some of the titles were:

'The Nature of Man: How Bowel Movements Are Much More Relevant Than Ideological Movements In Determining The Course of Human History'

'Archie Was Right, Dammit'

'The Book of Archie Through the Eyes of a Slightly Soused, Slightly Pretentious 20th Century Zen Philosopher'

'Yessirree Bob Is No Friend of Mine'

'I Keep My Toilet Paper on the Left'

These and other works, and also radio and television appearances, as well as selective lectures at politically correct, left leaning American Universities had kept St. Taw on all the right lists and in the minds of all the right people.

But with all the places that he had visited and all the people that he had known, and with all his vast experience in dealing with ignorance, stubbornness, and stupidity, he knew that all that was mere child's play compared to the challenge that was before him...in Dime Box.

  +++

Buffy spoke with Jaguar via cell phone:  "Well, darlin', I'm out of jail.  Just one night.  It's gonna be hard to get you credit for much time, since I didnt' rack up much myself, dadgum it."  Jaguar said, "Oh well, I reckon you did the best you could.  Anyway, you comin' down here?  They's all kinds a stuff comin' out a that cave."

Buffy said, "Well, the first thing I'm gonna do is withdraw from A&M.  Tomorrow, I'm going to apply at UT; maybe even today if I can fit it all in.  After that, I'll tell you what I'd like to do.  If your mama will take me in, I'd like to do some wood chopping training!  And other Belly Jetson cultural training!  I think I just might be pretty good at it, but I won't know for sure until I give it a real try.  I'm for taking a break from archeology for now, though.  Looks like I'm not as smart about that stuff as I thought I was."

Jaguar said, "Oh shoot, you done right good far's I can see.  Your name's gonna be on this stuff in the cave.  The UT doctor lady's already got you down as a finder, see?  Anyway, if you think you're up to doin' trainin' with my Mama, I'm sure she'll be glad to have a student.  Good luck there, darlin'!"

  +++

Buffy sat with Bonnie Bernice Belly Jetson in Bonnie's kitchen.  "I sure appreciate this, Bonnie!  I don't know if I'll be any good at learning some Belly Ways, but I'm sure glad you're giving me a chance to try."

Bonnie said, "You're gonna be flat out great is what you're gonna be!  I guarantee it!  You know why?  'Cause I'll show you, see?  I know all the Belly Ways, and I do the good ones and just ignore them other ones that ain't worth doin', see?  So, there won't be any time wasted on that stuff that don't need to be learned.  This is gonna be fun!  Not at first, mind you, but you'll see, 'fore long it'll be flat out fun!"

Chapter 22

Bonnie began her lecture on the philosophy of wood-chopping, "Here's the first thing to know 'bout wood-choppin', Buffy.  It ain't the exercise, at least not mainly.  You could lift weights at a dadgum Yankee weight-liftin' place, and get just as strong.  And it dadgum sure ain't for the wood.  Shoot, we hardly ever burn any dadgum wood anymore.  We've all gone to electric and gas, just like everbody else.  So, why we still choppin' wood?  Here's why.  'Cause it's hard, and it could kill ya!  See, folks don't do much stuff that's hard anymore, and that there gets 'em soft, soft in they head. 

"Here's what I'm talkin' 'bout.  See this axe blade?  That thing's sharp enough to cut 'maters with.  It's got to be sharp, or you'll never cut any wood.  Bein' that sharp, though, you can take off a toe or a foot easy as anything.  One little ol' slip, and there goes a dadgum toe!  Another thing that can happen is if you don't hit the log right, iit jumps right into your leg or belly.  That'll bruise you up for two dadgum weeks.  And then, chop the dadgum log wrong, and here comes a mess of wood chips, jumpin' right up to your eyes.  Take an eye out in nothin' flat is what it'll do. 

"Now, you can wear steel-toed shoes and goggles to make the choppin' as safe as you can, and that's what we gonna do.  Still, you got to split the dadgum log!  That's still hard, even if you don't take off a toe or lose an eye.  You got to bring the axe down hard enough and fast enough, and lined up well enough, or you'll never split that dadgum log.  And it'll piss you off!  But once you figure out how to split the log, dadgum near ever time, you'll know you learned somethin' hard, and you can do it, and you'll feel your body gettin' stronger all at the same time.  Now, why in the world wouldn't anybody want to learn such as that?  Because they been goin' Yankee too dadgum long, that's why!  Well, the Belly Way ain't the Yankee Way!  No way!  Anyways, let's get you some shoes and goggles, and chop some dadgum wood!"

Bonnie went inside after Buffy had been outfitted for wood chopping, leaving instructions for her to swing an axe 50 times into a tree stump.  Buffy gingerly lifted the axe above her head, and brought it down on the stump.  The blade sank in about a quarter of an inch.  She knew that wasn't a very forceful swing.  She lifted the axe a second time, sinking it a bit deeper.  After ten swings, she was beginning to get tired and sore.  Still, she continued to swing the axe until she had completed 50 chops at the stump.  Both her arms and legs had never been so tired.  She went inside and told Bonnie, "Well, I got in 50, and I'm feeling every one of them!  Looks like I've got a lot of Yankee conditioning to deal with.  I've still got all my toes and eyes, though!"

Bonnie said, "That there's the idea, Buffy!  You ain't gonna get this all in one little ol' lesson, see.  It'll take a while.  You just keep at it.  Anyways, now we gonna have some food, some 'just finished choppin' wood and I'm kinda hungry' food is what we'll have, see?"

    +++

About an hour out of Austin, St. Taw realized he didn't know where Dime Box was located, and when he mentioned the name Deep Belly, people just looked at him like he was crazy.

Was he?

Through the agency of mind altering drugs he had many times slipped away from sanity. But it was always temporary. Was he under some kind of drug right now? Had a closet right winger slipped something in his bourbon last night?

No, he was just getting a little paranoid, and a little paranoia never hurt anyone. Just ask Dick Nixon.

But something was going on. His map told him that he was within fifteen miles of Dime Box, yet no one in these parts had ever heard of it.

At times like this, only one course of action made sense. He then pulled to the side of the road, got out, opened his truck, got out an Old Milwaukee, sat down in an adjoining field full of bluebonnets, emptied his mind, and meditated.

An answer would come.

It took only a few generous gulps of Old Mil and a complete emptying of the mind for St. Taw to enter into the ZOA (Zone of Ambiguity). There, for the first time, he encountered the archetype TSM (Trans-Sans Man):

TSM: Welcome to the Trans-Sans.

ST: Where am I?

TSM: The Trans-Sans. That mysterious place residing between the world as you know it and the world of your imagination.

ST: How did I get here?

TSM: Through the power of OM.

ST: I've drunk Old Mil many times but it's never taken me here.

TSM: You have to drink it at the right place.

ST: Oh, I see. Well, what can you tell me?

TSM: Just about anything you ask.

ST: OK, what happened to Dime Box and the Bellys?

TSM: Nothing happened to them. What happened happened to you.

ST: You mean I quit existing?

TSM: More like you never existed in the first place.

ST: If that's true, how can I be here talking to you?

TSM: For one thing we're not talking. We are communicating but at some point you will realize it is entirely with yourself.

ST: So I am communicating with myself and I am telling myself that I do not exist? How can that be?

TSM: It is because it is.

IS: Did somebody call my name?

TSM: No, Is, go back to Tennessee.

ST: What happens if I tell myself I really do exist?

TSM: If you believe it, you will then wake up and find yourself about 12 miles due east of Dime Box.

ST: What if I don't believe?

TSM: Not an option.

Chapter 23

As Buffy washed up, she heard Bonnie in the kitchen, saying, "Dadgum!  It's Jaguar on the TV!"  Buffy ran to the kitchen, to hear, "Diane Bartlett here for News 8 in Austin.  I'm speaking with Mr. Jaguar Jetson, who discovered the famous Decave here in Mathis.  Jaguar, will you be leaving Texas A&M like Miss Campbell?"  Jaguar siad, "Shoot, I don't know if I can.  I ain't been real regular in classes for a good long while.  Reckon they might a beat me to it." 

Bartlett then asked, "Do you feel alienated from College Station after the way you and Miss Campbell were treated?"  Jaguar said, "Oh shoot, I like College Station.  You can find quarter beer 'bout any time you want it, and the traffic ain't never bad like in Austin.  I'm purty well partial to College Station is what I am."

Bartlett continued, "There you have it folks, Mr. Jetson may have taken on Texas A&M and won, but he's not leaving College Station."

Buffy said, "Dadgum!  Did you hear that?  Jag's staying in College Station!  And did you see how that TV bimbo was looking at him?  And those other bimboes in the background?  What the hell is going on down there?"

Bonnie said, "Well, shoot, Buffy, I didn't see Jaguar doin' nothin' with them wimmin.  I don't know the first thing 'bout the College Station bidness.  Give him a call and see."

Buffy reached Jaguar on his cell phone, "Hey, I just saw you on TV!"  Jaguar said, "Shoot, that's all that's goin' on here.  Can't do no work at all for all the dadgum reporters and what not.  I've been tryin' to get a good ramp dug to the cave all mornin', and I ain't got nothin' done.  Anyways, how's the axe comin'?"

Buffy said, "Oh, pretty good I guess.  I'm sore as hell, so I guess I'm doing OK.  Listen here, I just heard you on TV sayin' you're not going to move out of College Station.  Darn, Jag!  You know I'm moving to Austin!"

Jaguar said, "Well, shoot, Buffy, that wadn't my idea!  I ain't sayin' you ought'n to move to Austin, but shoot, I like College Station, see?"

Buffy said, "But Jag!  How are we going to see each other if we're living 100 miles away from each other?"

Jaguar replied, "Looky here, Buffy, I can live so dadgum cheap in College Station, I'd be plumb crazy to move to a big 'ol city like Austin.  Shoot, I pay $300 for a real nice little apartment, I drink quarter beer, I can go over to the B6 for all my meals..."

Buffy said, "Jag, you're a dadgum millionaire!  You're going to make millions of dollars from the Decave.  Furthermore, the fellowship agreement I got Dr. Jacuzzi to sign is still in effect; he tried to get it canceled, but he couldn't.  You have a check for $200K waiting at the A&M archeology dept. right now, and...  Oh shoot, I just realized, Jag.  I screwed up again.  You're contracted to do work for the Aggies for five years!  Darn!  Well, anyway, you're a rich man!  You can live anywhere you want.  Look, even though you'll be working in College Station, won't you come spend a lot of time with me?"

Jaguar siad, "Dadgum right!  But shoot, darlin', I done got more dirt work than anybody!  This is dadgum great!  Shoot, the cave workin' down here, and little holes all over the place for the dadgum Aggies!  But shoot, Buffy, now that you ain't gonna be workin' for the Aggies any more, who am I gonna be diggin' with?"

Buffy said, "Darn, Jag, I don't know.  This is really screwed up!" 

    +++

When St. Taw came out of his deep meditative state he found himself drenched in sweat as if he had just chopped wood on a hot Texas summer day. But it was not hot. It was in fact a cool Spring day in the Hill Country. And, man, was he hungry! Then he remembered the vision and drove to Dime Box, twelve miles away.

About ten minutes later he spotted the first establishment, a B6, owned and operated, the sign said, by a Rufus Cavanagh Belly, or RC as his friends and customers liked him to call him. RC was a bear of a man, taller than the average Belly, about 6' 2", but the same average weight, around 325 pounds.

It was two pm and the main lunch crowd had departed. Little belly Bellys were mostly in attendance. St. Taw found a place at the counter and ordered the Tuesday Special, which was BBQ Beef with four sides. Not to be too conspicous St. Taw ordered a Shiner instead of his usual OM.

RC delivered the meal in a matter of minutes. St. Taw asked him, "How can I find Deep Belly?"

RC growled, "Who's looking for him?"

St. Taw held out his hand, "I'm Alex St. Taw, professor of Natural Movements at Berkeley. I hold the Archie Abercrombie chair."

"Son, we call that sitting in a chair not holding it, and let me tell you one other thing, that chair don't belong to no Archie Abbersomething."

St. Taw started to explain, then realized it was useless, "Of course it doesn't. I'm sorry. Now about Deep Belly."

"Last time I heard he was in Corpus with his nephew, Jaguar."

Oh, well, thought St. Taw, that'll give me time to look around Dime Box. Might be helpful. Then he started working on the BBQ.

    +++

As St. Taw walked the streets of Dime Box, he once again began to doubt his sanity. This non-descript town with its run-down buildings and cracked sidewalks was the home of geniuses? It didn't seem possible but yet test after test had shown the average Belly to have two times the IQ of the average American.

Not knowing when Deep Belly would return, St. Taw decided to take a room at the motel on the edge of town. When checking in, the clerk asked him, "Would you like an inhouse or an outhouse with that room?"

St. Taw chosed the room with an outhouse, of course, and settled in for a nap. He would need all his strength when Deep Belly got back.

After a good nap, St. Taw felt refreshed and renewed and ready for the rigors of Dime Box Main Street. Legend had it that Bellys liked to toss cows and pigs for fun on Tuesday nights. St.Taw knew that might be a once in a lifetime opportunity and didn't want to miss it.

First though he had to use the outhouse. Like all good Archiephiles he carried his own supply of Liz Post Facial Quality Tissue Paper with him everywhere he went. No outhouse was too good or too bad that Liz couldn't make better.

After that was done, St. Taw started ambling toward Main Street. He could hear the cries and hoots and Belly laughs from several blocks away. Sure enough when he got there the Bellys were tossing squealing pigs and whimpering cows high through the air and catching them.

RC was standing beside the Colonel Store. He said, "Nothing like a little clean, Belly fun."

St. Taw laughed, "You might be right."

"Why don't you try it?"

St. Taw hesitated a moment, then said, "Well, why not?"

RC hollered out to Bimbo Belly, "Hey, Bimbo, let this fella play."

St. Taw walked over to Bimbo. Next thing he knew he was about twenty feet up in the air headed straight toward a big mud puddle.

Those Bellys know how to have fun. 

Chapter 24

Buffy sat down in the kitchen and began to cry.  Bonnie sat beside her, asking, "Good night, darlin', what's the matter?"  Buffy said, "Bonnie, I think I'm gonna lose Jag, and it's all my fault.  I got him set up with a job working for A&M for the next five years, and now I won't be working with him.  It'll be somebody else, some dadgum woman I just know, and, shoot, he's got all these great looking women chasing him and his money around now.  I just don't think I have a chance.  And I won't even get to finish my wood-chopping training!"  Buffy began to weep uncontrollably.

Bonne said, "The hell you won't!  Baby, you're welcome here any dadgum time you want to be here!  And if Jaguar don't like it, he can go out to the line shack!  But looky here, Buffy, don't go writin' off Jaguar so dadgum quick.  I know that boy, and he's dadgum stubborn is what he is, shoot maybe even more than me.  I've tried and tried and tried to get him out of that dadgum dirt and into dadgum books, and he never left it for a minute.  If he's taken to you for breedin', you can be dadgum sure there ain't nothin' gonna turn his head.  Now, listen here, don't you think he's taken to you?"

Buffy said, "I sure thought so.  It seemed like that, felt like that."

Bonnie said, "Well, that there's what breedin' is all about, ain't it?  Looky here, why don't we get in the truck and drive down there?  Won't take no time at all.  We'll go see ol' Jaguar and Donnie Bob, and you can see how things are goin' with your man, see?"

Buffy said, "Dadgum right!  Great idea, Bonnie!"

Bonnie and Buffy pulled into the Mathis dig site just after sundown, to find a buzz of activity in progress.  A truck was being loaded with the contents of the Decave.  Jaguar was nowhere in site, but D.B. was sitting on the Rolling Outhouse, operating the hoist.  He had an anguished look on his face.  When he saw Bonnie and Buffy get out of the pick-up, he began to yell, "Come here, come here!  Dadgum, Jagwar's tryin' to kill me!  He won't stop that dadgum workin'!  Won't let me neither!  Shoot, I ain't ate in so long I done forgot what fud taste like.  Cain't even go pee!  I'm 'bout to die!  Looky here, you run this dadgum thang, OK?  Jist push the little button up when Jagwar says up and push the little button down when he says down, see?"  Bonnie took the control box and then watched D.B. move more rapidly than she had ever seen him.  He was actually running to the Porta-Potty.  The ground moved perceptively as he galloped away.

Minutes later, D.B. was back.  "Dadgum!  I shore feel better now is what I feel!  Still storvin', though.  I got to git some dadgum fud!  Hidy there, Miz Buffy!  You come ta see them arky thangs?"  Buffy said, "Hi, Mr. Belly!  Oh yes, I want to see that.  Mainly Jag, though!  Where is he?"  D.B. said, "Oh, he's down in that dadgum hole's where he's at.  Been down there ever since them news folks got out a here.  Git him up here and let's go fud!"

Buffy called Jag's cell phone.  "Hi, Jag.  I'm up here at the cave opening!  Come up sometime!"  Jaguar said, "Dadgum, that's great!  I'll be right there."

Jaguar was surprised to see that he had been hoisted up by Bonnie, "Hi, Mama!  Shoot, how long you all been here?"  Bonnie said, "Oh, not long.  Just long enough for Donnie Bob to get a little relief is all.  You been workin' him too hard!"

Jaguar then saw Buffy, and ran over to hug and kiss her.  "Dadgum, I've sure missed you!  I'm sure glad you came down.  I wanted you to come here when you got out of jail, but shoot, I didn't figure I ought to mess up your wood-choppin' trainin'."

Buffy said, "Oh, Jag, I've been messing up lately.  I just want to be with you.  Can we go eat now, and then get a motel for the night?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum right!  Hey, uncle D., let's wrap it up for the night."

D.B. said, "It's 'bout time!  Shoot, I sure wisht you all had come earlier, so's I wouldn't a had ta got so far along with the storvin' sickness.  I don't hardly know how I didn't flat storve away is what I don't know." 

 Chapter 25

After an extended fuding session at the Mathis B6, D.B. loaded up with supplemental fud supplies and went back to the dig site, to sleep in the Rolling Outhouse.  Bonnie drove back to Dime Box after telling Jaguar, "Boy, that gal is wonderin' 'bout you.  You tell her if you're set on doin' steady breedin' with or or if you ain't.  You'd be a dadgum fool not to be set on her, but that there's your bidness.  You let her know one way or the other, see?"

After settling into a Mathis motel, Jaguar sat beside Buffy on the bed and said, "Listen here, darlin', I'm sure sorry you've been feelin' all bad.  Tell me what's ailin' you, Buffy."

Buffy said, "Oh, Jag, I've let my big ideas get the best of me is what happened.  First off, trying to make sure Dr. Jacuzzi didn't take advantage of us, then abruptly leaving A&M after five years because he'd been such a jerk, and maybe the biggest idea of all is that through all of this, you'd be there for me, and I'd become a member of the Belly family.  A lot of ideas, Jag, and I just didn't think them through, did I?"

Jaguar said, "Oh, I reckon not, but shoot, sometimes you can't think everthing out all at once, see?  That's what I keep tellin' you.  I do dirt and nothin' but dirt.  Start mixin' up other stuff with dirt and you start messin' up with dirt.  I know what happens!  Seen it happen many a time!  I keep my mind on dirt is what I do, 'cause I ain't gonna go doin' sorry dirt is what I ain't gonna do.

"So, looky here, we got a hole here that can be dug, but we got to figure out how to do it.  Are they roots in there we gonna have to chop through?  Water pipes we gonna bust that'll have to be repaired before we can finish the diggin'?  A bad layer a dirt we gotta shore up 'fore it goes to sinkin'?  A high water table's that gonna make the dadgum hole unstable?  Keep studyin' the dirt, see, and all them questions will answer their own selves, see?  Stop studyin' on the dirt, though, and shoot, there goes the dadgum hole.  Big ol' mess is what you got."

Buffy said, "You know Jag, I think I'm following you, but I'm not sure.  You're saying that our breeding relationship resembles a digging project, and that its structure can be refined by seeing it clearly within the context of all the surrounding environmental factors?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum right!  I just knew you'd get it!  Shoot, Buffy, you ain't too bad a dirter are you?"

Buffy said, "Oh, I do my best.  Between learning dirting and wood-chopping, I'm getting smarter all the time, I guess.  Just so I'll know I'm really getting this, though, Jag, here's a question.  Just tell me the truth; I won't pitch a fit, whatever the answer is.  Jag, if you go off to digging with other Aggie archeology students, maybe great looking female students, will you still want to do steady breeding with me, and no one else?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum right!  Shoot, I thought you knew that!  Good night, Buffy, I thought that was settled after you checked out my dadgum brain number!  It wadn't me askin' 'bout your breedin' numbers!  Shoot, I just reckon we'd do some good breedin' together, seein' how Belly Ways don't seem too dadgum crazy to you.  See, I take to most of them Belly Ways.  Oh, not all of 'em, but most of the big 'uns.  Well, shoot, a woman that's purty and does that book stuff real good, has got mighty fine hips, is learnin' wood-choppin' and what not, shoot, I just couldn't do no better for breedin', see?"

Buffy said, "Jag, that's beautiful!  A little different, but very romantic!"  Buffy literally jumped on Jaguar, embracing him and beginning a deep, passionate kiss.  After a few minutes, Jaguar said, "Anyway, we still got to get the rest of the hole dug out, see?  All we got so far is a nice little pattern started, but the sides ain't been shaped at all.  That ain't no hole!  Just a start is what it is.  So, listen here, where do you want to put the spade next?"

Buffy said nothing for several seconds, trying to make sure she understood what Jaguar was asking.  Then she said, "OK, let's see if I have the big hole picture here.  You're saying you're serious about a relationship with me, just me, I think, even though we may be living far apart a lot of the time, but that when it comes to sure enough breeding, long-term breeding, I'm who you want to breed with, right?"

Jaguar said, "Well, sure, but we done been through that shovel full!  Looky here, let's just get right down to the black dirt, past the dadgum layer of rock and that sorry ol' sand, see, to where we want to put the bottom  of the hole.  Here's the Belly Rules for breedin'.  You sign the deal, and that means if a feller messes 'round with another gal, he gets a shotgun or a razor, and if a gal messes 'round with another feller, she gets the shotgun or a good whuppin' see?  Well, if you're wonderin' 'bout the deal, shoot, we'll just sign it up, and there it'll be, the Old Mil bottle right there on the table, sayin' somebody's gonna git shot, cut or whupped if they go trifflin' 'fore the bottle been broke.  See?"

Buffy said, "Dadgum, Jag, help me out here.  Did you just ask me to marry you?"

Jaguar said, "Oh, sure, if you want to put it like that, in them Yankee words.  That ain't the Belly Way words, though.  See?"

Buffy said, "Well, I say dadgum right!"

Not another word was spoken for over an hour, as the pre-deal deal was observed by Buffy and Jaguar.  Unstoppable Belly breedin' forces were now in play, that would result in a set of OM rituals still not fully understood by many people on earth, even Bellys.

When Buffy and Jaguar had both applied intense thought and emotion to the prospect of draining an Old Mil bottle [becoming married], Jaguar said, "Listen here, darlin', here's a Belly Way you probably don't know about.  The sign that a feller and a gal are set on signin' a breedin' deal is that they exchange wullets.  You know 'bout wullets?"

Buffy said, "No, Jag, I sure don't!"

Jaguar said, "Well, here's what it is.  For fellers, you take a regular wallet and line it with a lightweight steel plate.  That makes it a wullet.  It's different in other ways too, at least the real nice ones are, but that steel plate is the big difference.  Over the years, wullets have saved the life of many a Belly, all over Texalina.  I'll tell you 'bout Texalina later on, see, or Mama will.  This wullet bidness is plenty enough to explain right now, see? 

"Now, a gal's wullet is different.  It's bigger than a feller's wullet, but smaller than the average purse.  Won't fit in a shirt pocket, but you can get it in the Levi's rear pocket.  If you go and start carryin' a gal's wullet, if you're a feller, that there's a sure sign you're serious 'bout drainin' an Old Mil bottle with her, dadgum serious.  Othewise, see, a feller wouldn't be caught carryin' a dadgum gal's wullet.  And everybody knows a gal is serious, dadgum serious, 'bout drainin' an Old Mil bottle with a feller if she's carryin' his filty, stinky old wullet 'round, I can tell you that.

"Anyway, here's what we got to do.  First off, we got to get you a wullet!  We can pick one up at the B6 just down the road.  Then, I got to start totin' it 'round, and you'll start totin' my wullet 'round, see?  And the main thing is that we got to plan on drainin' that dadgum Old Mil bottle purty soon so we can get our own dadgum wullets back, see?"

Buffy said, "Dadgum!  I don't know for sure how much I see, but I'm in!" 

Chapter 26

Jaguar said to Buffy, "OK now, what we'll do now is just set our spades down and take a good look at that dadgum hole.  This here's country you ain't dug in before, so you know what, we better check the lay a the dadgum land a little bit! See?"

Buffy said, "I think I'm following along OK.  According to Belly Ways, there are no engagement rings to symbolize a promise to marry, but there is an exchange of wullets to represent an intention to enter a long-term breedin' agreement, symbolized and documented when the marriage, or breedin' partners, drink the contents of an Old Milwaukee bottle, a quart bottle, right?  OK, and after that, the marriage, or breedin' agreement, remains intact until one of the partners breaks the Old Milwaukee bottle in the company of the other partner.  Right?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum, you sure are smart!  Shoot, it took me years to ever make sense of all that!  Well, anyway, is that soundin' like a hole you want to dig?"

Buffy said, "Dadgum right!  It's different, way, way different, but you know what, I think I like it!  I do see a few rocks in the way of where I'm digging, though, darlin'.  You help me clear 'em out, OK?

"First off, in addition to draining the Old Milwaukee bottle, do Bellys file a marriage license?  Second, how do people who are married according to Belly Ways symbolize their marriage status?  Rings?  Something else?"

Jaguar said, "Oh sure!  Shoot, we got to get the license down at City Hall, and what not.  Rings are optional.  You want a ring, we'll get you a ring.  I'm not partial to rings myself, since they get in the way of dirtin' work, see.  But shoot, I reckon I could wear me a little ring if you want me to.  That there's a corner we can dig a bunch of different ways, see, and they'll all leave a nice hole."

Buffy then said, "Well, darlin', there's one other thing that's on my mind.  Here I am planning on breedin' with you, swappin' a wullet I don't have yet and spending the rest of my life with you, and I've never heard the L-word from you yet.  See?"

After a few seconds, Jaguar said, "Oh, you mean love!  Well, dadgum right!  I sure do love you there, darlin'!  Shoot, didn't you know that?  Good night, I sure wouldn't be plannin' on totin' a dadgum gal's wullet if I didn't!  If that ain't love, I sure don't know what is!"

Buffy said, "Well, dadgum, I guess so!  I love you too, Jag.  Enough to carry that filthy wullet of yours even.  I see what you mean.  This wullet exchange deal is a heck of a lot bigger symbol than just wearing a ring!"

Jaguar replied, "Dadgum right it is.  Alright, now here's the next thing to do.  The gal gets to decide when we gonna drink the Old Mil, see.  What you supposed to do now is Mama Talkin'.  You talk to a mama, yours or some other mama, and decide when you gonna close the deal, and where and what not.  See?"

Buffy said, "Well, Jag, I guess you didn't know, but my mom is dead.  I've got four step-mothers, and I don't like any of them.  Can I talk to your mama?"

Jag said, "Well, shoot, sorry to hear 'bout your mama!  Goodness yes, you can talk to Mama if you want to.  No tellin' what she'll come up with, but dadgum it, that there's your call, 'bout the Mama Talkin'." 

Buffy said, "OK!  I like that.  I'll get on the phone with her tomorrow morning, then, and do me some Mama Talkin'."

Chapter 27

The next morning, after fuding with Jaguar and D.B., Buffy called up Bonnie, "Hi Bonnie, it's Buffy.  Guess what - Jag and I exchanged wullets this morning!"

Bonnie said, "Well, congratulations, gal, 'cept for havin' to carry 'roud that dirty dadgum thang.  Dadgum it, ol' Jaguar did right, didn't he?"

Buffy said, "Yes, he did!  He's something else, Bonnie."

Bonnie said, "Oh, he's that alright.  Well anyway, I guess you know 'bout the Mama Talkin', right?"

Buffy said, "Yes, as a matter of fact, that's why I called.  My mom is dead.  Can I to it with you?"

Bonnie said, "Oh sure!  Too bad 'bout your mama, though.  When did you lose her?"

Buffy said, "When I was six, in a car wreck.  I've had step-mothers, but I was never close to them."

Bonnie said, "Dadgum, that's too bad.  Well, darlin', you're welcome to me for any kind a talkin' you might want!  I can do me some talkin'!"

Buffy said, "Great!  I like that.  Let's get to the talkin'!"

Bonnie said, "Alright, here's the deal.  Now that you've got Jaguar's wullet, you can close the deal any time you want to, within a year.  If you ain't done it by then, you got to give the wullet back.  You can close anyplace you want; it's all up to you.  If you want a ring, you get it.  The feller and his folks pay for everything.  You invite whoever you want.  This is purty well the gal's show.  See?"

Buffy said, "I like this!  Where do most Bellys get married?"

Bonnie said, "Oh, most of us like to stay pretty close to food, so it's been in B6s lately.  Every once in a while, someone will do it in a church.  And then, Bellys have closed in pastures, bars, in jail and just about any kind of place you can think of.  There ain't no Belly Rules 'bout that."

Buffy said, "Alright, here's what I'm thinking.  I want to get better at wood-chopping first, and learn some food skills.  I want to enhance my assimilation of Belly cultural values before becoming a Belly.  See?"

Bonnie said, "Well shoot, I'm all for that!  It's all up to you, though.  You know what, though, I'm sure wonderin' how it is that you've taken to Belly Ways!  Shoot, most folks that ain't Bellys think we're plumb crazy with these ways, not that some of us ain't, 'specially book folks."

Buffy said, "I majored in anthropology in college because I was interested in learning about other cultures, so I'm pretty good at getting at what the real deal is in a cultural group, and I don't care how different it is as long as something about the system works.  Well, Belly Ways make for a lot better deal for women than any other culture I've found.  I want in, if I can cut it!"

Bonnie said, "Dadgum, you're a smart gal!  Shoot, yes, you can cut it!  Don't worry 'bout that.  Won't take no time at all.  Anyway, talkin' 'bout cuttin', here's something else that comes when you close the deal.  For wedding gifts, you'll be gettin' real nice razors and knives, see, and some guns, of course, so you'll be plumb ready if you've got to go after your feller 'cause he's been acting up.  Sure wouldn't want you to have to go after Jaguar, but dadgum it, them's the rules!  'Course, he gets his own huntin' gifts, so if it came to it, he'd have to go after you just the same, see?  And I'll tell you what, if Jaguar was to go messin' 'round with another gal or what not, we'd all go after him ourselves if you didn't, see, 'cause if just one Belly starts messin' up the rules, well, they gonna be messed up for all of us.  Rules is rules, dadgum it!"

Buffy said, "Well, dadgum, I sure hope deterrence works with Jag!  Me too!  You know, I'll need some training on that stuff too.  I'd like to work in a B6 as well.  Can I do that?"

Bonnie said, "Oh, goodness yes, if you want to.  Work at the Dime Box B6, and D.B. will have you runnin' the place.  Give him an excuse to sit and eat and talk all day, and he'll sure do it."

Buffy said, "OK, I think I'm ready to dig this hole.  I'll spend the night down here, talk all this over with Jag, and then head back to wood-chopping training, and everything else, in Dime Box, the next day, see?"

Bonnie said, "That's sounds plumb fine, darlin'.  I'll come down to get you.  What hole is it you're gonna dig, though?"

Buffy said, "In the Jag world., everything is a hole, and they've all got to be dug just right.  Holes is holes!"

Chapter 28

Now that her Mama Talkin' had begun, Buffy wondered if she should call her father, Mosath Eyskin.  Belly Rules didn't seem to address Daddy Talkin', but, what the heck, he ought to at least know.  Buffy had never been particularly close to her father, and hadn't spent much time around him.  He was still married to Buffy's mother, Monica Sue Neumann-Eyskin,  when she died in the car wreck when Buffy was six, but he was gone all the time on one BOM crusade or another.  After her mom died, Buffy lived with her grandmother, Monica Sue's mom, Myrtle Darlene Campbell-Neumann.  Myrtle lived in Lampasas, Texas, so that's where Buffy spent most of her childhood.  After moving to Lampasas, Buffy saw Mosath even less frequently.  She'd read about him in the newspaper every once in a while, and he always seemed to be doing something interesting, but really weird.  So, she didn't really know him very well, but still, he was her dad.  She dialed his phone number.

"Mosath here."  Buffy said, "Hi, dad, it's Buffy."  Mosath said, "Well, hi there!  I saw you on TV!  You got those Aggies good!  That's great!"  Buffy said, "Oh, it wasn't very hard.  You know how Aggies are.  I guess I do too now.  Anyway, dad, I've got some news.  I'm engaged!"

Mosath said, "You are?  Darn, to whom?"  Buffy said, "His name is Jaguar Jetson.  He's one of the North Dime Box Bellys."

Mosath said nothing for several seconds.  Then he said, "Gosh, Buffy, Bellys?  Do you know about those people?"

Buffy replied, "Actually, I do, dad.  I know quite a lot about Belly Ways now.  This may sound really strange to you, but I like them.  I may be more into Belly Ways than Jag, as a matter of fact.  He's a great guy, though, and I love him a lot, along with the Belly lifestyle that I want to follow. 

"Anyway, dad, I didn't call up to talk about Belly Ways or get into an argument about BOM.  That's your way, dad, not mine.  What I called to say is that I'm getting married.  If you're interested in coming to the wedding, maybe I'll invite you.  If not, I'll know I don't need to bother.  See?"

Mosath said, "OK, OK.  This is a lot to take in all in one shot, Buffy.  Wow, my own daughter marrying into those people.  Anyway, how traditional are you going to go?  Will this Jaguar be asking me for your hand in marriage?  Please don't tell me you know what a wullet is now."

Buffy said, "Dad, I'm carrying Jag's wullet right now."

Mosath said, "Oh, no!!"        

Buffy replied, "I'm guessing that means you don't want to attend the wedding.  That's cool."  And she hung up.  Mosath sat speechless for several minutes, the phone still in his hand.

    +++

Later the same morning, Mosath dialed a number in California at The Berkeley Natural, a semi-scholarly publication on semi-scientific observations and speculations usually associated with the natural sciences.  When the call was answered, he said, "This is Mosath Eyskin in Tennessee.  I'd like to get in contact with Alex St. Taw.  He has a very interesting piece in your most recent issue I'd like to discuss with him."  The woman on the phone said, "Alex isn't on staff, so we don't see him very often.  The last I heard, he was in Texas."  Mosath asked, "Any idea where in Texas?"  The woman said, "Oh, Nickel Back" or something like that."  Mosath asked, "Dime Box?"  The woman said, "Yes, that's it!  I'll give you his cell number if you want it."

Mosath called the number.  A voice said, "You must know who I am, since you called.  I want to know who you are."  Mosath said, "Alex, this is Mosath Eyskin.  I'm the..."

St. Taw interrupted, saying, "I know who you are.  What do you want?"  Mosath said, "I read your piece on the Bellys in The Berkeley Natural.  I want to know what evidence you have that there are some extra smart Bellys.  I've known those people for years, and never saw any evidence."

St. Taw said, "You were looking in the wrong places.  Here's a hint - when you take them on, they always win and you always lose.  Ever read anything into that?"

Eyskin said, "You obviously haven't followed my career!  As I see it, I'm undefeated against Bellys!"

St. Taw said, "Right.  If you believe that, you must think I'm an idiot.  So, why are you calling me?  You've interrupted an wonderful contemplation of Moon Pie wrappers I began at sunrise.  Now, I'll probably have to wait until tomorrow morning to finish."

Eyskin said, "No offense, there, St. Taw.  I'm just looking for new information on the Bellys.  It seems completely impossible that someone could know more about them than I do, but then, there are anomalies.  I'd like to see your research data."

St. Taw said, "Well, Eyskin, anomalies are what I do best, but the Bellys are far beyond that.  I'm not seeing evidence that you're smart enough to get this, though.  I'm going back to the Moon Pie wrappers, just in case.  You go back to having all the answers."  And he hung up. 

Minutes later, Eyeskin called the same number again.  When St. Taw answered, he said, "Listen, Alex, you're right.  Please don't hang up!  Look, my daughter, my own daughter is about to marry a Belly!  You must understand what a shock this is to me.  I need help!  Please tell me what you know about Bellys that I've missed all these years."

St. Taw said, "Dadgum!  I'll never get the Moon Pie message now!  This is just what I'm talking about, Eyskin!  Thousands of Bellys have mastered the Fud Coma.  Thousands!  I've been trying for years, almost every day.  I've never done it once!  Do you think it's easy?  Have you ever tried it?  Listen, I was in on the O'Leary experiments.  I've studied with gurus in India.  I've been working on every mind-expansion idea I've found for over forty years.  Yet, I can't do Fud Coma.  But Bellys do it without even one lesson from a guru or stoned Ivy League professor.  You ever give the first thought to how unusual that is?  Don't answer; I know you haven't.  The question was purely rhetorical.

"Here's what you don't get Eyskin, at least, here's a part of what you don't get; I don't have all day.  You listen to Bellys, and because they sound different from you, you conclude that they're dumb.  So, Eyskin, if you listen to someone from Egypt or India, you'd also hear someone who sounds different from you.  Some of those people aren't very smart, some are, most are just average, but all of them sound different in the words they speak and the way they pronounce them.  Read everything you hear as 'dumb,' and you'll be making dumb conclusions.  Read everything as 'smart' because it fits an overly positive, politically correct attitude toward 'multiculturalism,' and you'll be just as dumb.  It's not that simple.  Concluding that Bellys and other Southern cultural groups are all stupid is stupid.  Concluding that cultural groups in other parts of the world are advanced, simply because that's the trendy thing to believe, is stupid.  Eyskin, I'm thinking you're squarely in both stupid camps.  What do you think?"

Eyskin said, "Well, come now, St. Taw, you're putting words in my mouth.  I don't think Bellys are dumb because of the way they speak, but because they're dumb.  Not all of them necessarily, but so many, there's really no point in looking for the exceptions.  If I'm mistaken to some minor degree, I want to know.  Tell me this, what do you know about a Belly family member named Jaguar Jetson?"

St. Taw said, "I know something about him.  I've seen some test results.  Tell me what you know, Eyskin.  Let's see how well you size him up."

Eyskin said, "I've never met him."

St. Taw said, "Meet him.  Then tell me how smart he is.  And I'll see how smart you are, Eyskin.  Got it?"

Chapter 29

St. Taw sipped on his Old Milwaukee (bourbon was outlawed in Dime Box) and reflected on his recent phone conversation with Mosath Eyskin, the former CEO of BOM who had been disgraced at the now famous Battle of San New-Manse'. Many had thought Eyskin had died in the heat of battle, even the writers of the second novel, 'Souee Generis' that described the event. But they had underestimated Eyskin, who had more lives than a cat.

After reflecting on Eyskin, St. Taw then reflected on himself. For someone who had been thrown twenty feet through the air by a Belly he was in remarkably good condition. Of course, the softness of a mud puddle had a lot to do with it, but St. Taw liked to think his years of intensive Zen training had also helped.

Of course, a long hot bath didn't hurt either.

Now he was continuing with his resolve to gather research to prove his theory of Belly Intelligence. He had been studying moon pie wrappers for the past two hours and a clue had emerged. As everyone knows, moon pies are a combination of chocolate, marshmellows, and graham crackers. Bellys ate them like, well, like everything else they ate, in great quantities. Was the lowly moon pie the key to their superior intelligence? Was it one of the ingredients in particular or the combination that ignited the Belly stomach enzyme that increased blood flow to the brain and thereby increased intelligence? All three ingredients were common in all Americans' diets, yet Belly IQs were twice the national average. St. Taw looked at the wrapper more intently. These moon pies were made in Chattanooga, Tennessee. A light bulb clicked on. That's it! The answer was in Chattanooga! And with that revelation, St. Taw fell asleep, fully intending to leave for Chattanooga first thing in the morning.

    +++

Buffy answered her beeping cell phone, expecting a call from Bonnie for more Mama Talkin'.  It was her dad.  "Listen, Buffy, sorry about earlier.  It was a shock to hear that you've embraced Belly Ways.  I just couldn't help it.  Can we talk about this?"

Buffy said, "Oh, I guess, but not for long.  The story is that I like Belly Ways.  It's that simple.  I know all the arguments against them, and I just don't care.  I'm going the Belly Way.

"I'll make this short dad, and try to put it in terms you might understand.  Every Summer when I was an undergrad. anthropology major, I'd serve internships in other countries, experiencing new cultures.  You always thought that was a great idea, doing  'multiculturalism' firsthand.  Well, after getting past my naiveté about these cultures my professors were raving about, and you too, it became clear to me that a lot of those folks were really getting screwed, especially the women.

"Well, after taking a look at all that stuff for several years, I discover Belly Ways, and they look pretty darn sensible to me.  Belly values emphasize the basics - getting food, lodging and family stability right.  There are other things to learn, dad, but let's face it - if you don't get the basic stuff right, everything else is going to be screwed up.  That's how I see it, and I see a lot of stuff getting screwed up in cultures around the world.  I think the Bellys are in pretty good touch with the basic stuff I think is most important.  I'm going the Belly Way, dad, whether you like it or not.  There's no point in arguing about it.  Wouldn't be the Belly Way, see?"

Mosath said, "I see.  OK, how about this.  Why don't you and your fiance come up to Tennessee so I can meet him?  I'd like to at least know who you're marrying.  Maybe I'll learn something new."

Buffy said, "You know dad, I think I'd like that.  The problem is, Jag and I are both really busy right now.  I'll ask him if we can slip in a quick trip, though.  What city are you in anyway?  I never could keep up."

Mosath said, "Nashville.  I've been working with a singer named Maria!  You may have heard of her."

Buffy said, "Dadgum right!  I love her music!  Wow, dad, that's pretty cool!  Heck, a trip to Nashville is sounding better and better!"

Chapter 30

Feeling much better, though still sore, St. Taw walked over to the B6 to have breakfast. Most RBs (Regular Bellys) ate breakfast around 5 AM, so at 7 AM once again there were mostly only little belly Bellys 'fuding'. St. Taw ordered a child's serving, which consisted of three eggs, six pieces of bacon, a side of ham, hash browns and a hot cakes stack.

St. Taw had been eating for about ten minutes when someone sat down beside him. It was a woman, who looked to be around fifty (same age as St. Taw). She wore a red t-shirt with blue jeans and cowboy boots. On the front of the t-shirt the words said, 'Moon Pies Are My Life'. She spoke first, "You're going to Chattanooga, aren't you?"

St. Taw was stunned. "How did you know?"

"The Trans-Sans Man told me."

St. Taw started choking on his food. The woman got up quickly and performed the HAP (Heimlech Alternative Procedure) which consisted of grabbing his feet, turning him upside down, and shaking him. A piece of ham fell to the floor. (Note to readers. The Heimlech is not permitted in Dime Box since it involves squeezing the belly).

St. Taw thanked his savior and noticed that when she turned around to go back to her chair, the back of her t-shirt read, "But I Eat Them Anyway."

"Sorry to be so abrupt, but my time is limited. Let me introduce myself. My name in English is May. I'm here to try to deter you from going to Chattanooga."

"But why. The proof that I've been seeking may be there."

"I can assure that it is not. The answer is elsewhere."

"Where?"

"In the Decave."

"What's that?"

"That's all I can tell you. But you must leave ASAP. For directions, call Bonnie Jetson at this number." And with that, the mysterious lady named May left.

For once, St. Taw was speechless.

Nervously, St. Taw called the number.  Bonnie Jetson answered, "Donnie Bob, leave me alone!  I can't go down there every dadgum hour to bring you some food, dadgum it!  I got work to do here!"  When she paused, St. Taw asked, "Is this Bonnie Jetson?"

Bonnie said, "I reckon.  That ain't you, is it Donnie Bob?"  St. Taw said, "I can't answer for Donnie Bob, but my name is Alex St. Taw as it turns out.  Could I speak with you for a few minutes?"

Bonnie said, "Oh, sure.  Talk away.  I can do me some talkin'."

St. Taw said, "Very good, thank you.  Mrs. Jetson, I am a researcher in Austin.  I'm looking for information about Texas artifacts located in a place called a "Decave," if I have the name right.  Can you tell me something about this?"

Bonnie said, "Well, sure I could.  And then, you could turn on your dadgum TV.  You can't get away from folks talkin' 'bout that dadgum Decave.  It's Decave this, Decave that, all day long.  I'm sick and tired of hearin' 'bout it is what I am.  Radio too!  What the hell, you been out a the country or somethin'?"

St. Taw said, "In a way, yes.  I didn't know.  And where is the Decave located?"

Bonnie said, "Mathis, down south 'round Corpus Christi is where it's at.  You couldn't hardly miss it unless you're workin' at it real hard."

St. Taw said, "Thank you, Mrs. Jetson.  Do you mind if I call you again, with better questions next time?"

Bonnie said, "Oh, sure.  If it's talkin' you're after, I can do me some.  See?"

Chapter 31

A few hours later, St. Taw was on the outskirts of Corpus, near a hamlet called Mathis. He was getting weary, just about ready to give up when he saw the sign, 'Haunted Outhouse'. He drove about another one hundred yards and there it was, the RO (Rolling Outhouse) shining brightly in sun, its yellow sides resplendent with the famous symbol of the moon pie and beer bottle. And just as unmistakably, standing beside the RO, all 6' and 385 pounds of him, was Deep Belly, who according to St. Taw's theory on Belly enzyme production, probably the smartest man in the world.

St. Taw realized that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Now he could ask the questions that no else believed could be answered. He stopped the car and went back to the trunk where he pulled out a large dufflebag that was filled with moon pies, Shiner Beer, and Liz Post toilet paper. Then, slightly trembling, he walked over to the behemoth.

D.B. called out to him, "Hey, come here!  Come here!"

St. Taw said, "Hi, my name is..."

D.B. interrupted, saying, "Looky here, you help me out here, OK?  Goody!  I gotta go pee, see?  So's, when you hear this here radio outfit a sayin' up, you push this little button up, see?  And when you hear that radio outfit a sayin' down, why you push the dadgum little button down.  See?"

Without waiting for a response, the huge Mr. Belly handed the control box to St. Taw, and took off running.  St. Taw couldn't believe his luck.  He had witnessed Belly Tremors, the sensation of standing on ground being disturbed by the gallping D.B. Belly.

In a few minutes, D.B. returned, saying, "Dadgum, shore glad you come along!  Shoot, I thought I was gonna die!  This here arky work is done wearin' me out is what it's doin'.  Shoot, you're doin' real fine workin' that little box!  Dadgum, I reckon you got the job!  I'll be back 'fore long, see?"

Again waiting for no response, D.B. left the dig site, driving away in a pick-up.  St. Taw was a bit disoriented, but carefully followed the "up" and "down" instructions he received on the radio.

Almost two hours later, D.B. returned.  He walked over to St. Taw, saying, "You never said what you wanted for fudin', dadgum it!  You got to speak up!  Anyways, I brunged a little bit a everythang.  Just go git what you want out a the back a the pick-up, see?  And don't go nowhere!  Shoot, I'm gonna need me another pee 'fore too long!  Don't go leavin' me here all by myself, dadgum it!  Purty please!"

St. Taw walked over to the pick-up bed to find well over 1,000 pounds of food - barbecue, soft drinks, beer, side dishes, desserts.  Enough food to throw a picnic for the entire student body at Berkeley, St. Taw thought.  He helped himself to a good 5-pound sampling, and was beginning to relax into post-fuding Moon Pie meditation when he heard D.B. yelling, "Come here, come here!  Hurry!"

St. Taw ran over.  He knew what to do, "Go ahead, I've got the box."  D.B. said, "I'll be back in a minute!"  The entire routine was repeated.  D.B. visited the Porta-Potty, and then took off in the pick-up.

Just after 8 p.m., Jaguar emerged from the cave.  St. Taw said, "Hi, my name is Alex St. Taw.  I've been helping out Mr. Belly with the hoist."

Jaguar said, "Well, thanks there, Alex.  Uncle D. can sure use all the help he can get.  He ain't used to this kind a work.  Anyway, we're gonna shut it down.  I'll take that box and move the rollin' outhouse out a the way."

St. Taw walked over to the pick-up, where D.B. was eating.  D.B. said, "You know what, you never ate nothin'!  Shoot, you gonna storve is what you gonna do!  Dadgum, I brunged you a mess a fud and you never ate none of it!  Oh well, we got it right here if you feel a storvin' comin' on, see?"

St. Taw said, "Thank you for your concern.  I would like to have some more, actually.  The barbecue is outstanding.  Listen, I'm a researcher, down here to learn more about the Decave.  Do you mind if I record as we talk?"  St. Taw pulled out a small tape recorder.

D.B. said, "Dadgum, that's a little 'un!  I ain't never seen one a them!  Can I sang?"

St. Taw said, "Sure.  Go ahead."

D.B. finished off six more ribs, and then sang "The Great Speckled Bird" into the small recorder.  Then he said, "Let's listen at it!"

After listening to his recording, with great approval, D.B. returned to fuding.  St. Taw began to ask questions he had prepared for D.B.:

St. Taw:  "Shouldn't America be spending more money and effort on developing atomic fusion?"

D.B.:  "Dadgum right!  See, what they do is shoot a mess a 'fusin' over at them commanists, gettin' 'em all 'fused, and first thang you know, they so dadgum 'fused, they leavin' them commanist places in boats, tearin' down walls and what not, runnin' out a them commanist places, shuttin' down they army and navy and what not.  So, shoot, next thang you know, they ain't no more commanists over there ta worry 'bout!  Shoot, that there 'fusin' works real well is what it does!"

St. Taw:  "How can we solve racism?"

D.B.:  "Shoot, you got to get you a good engine's the first thang if you gonna do good at that racism bidness, is what you gotta do.  I don't care how good the dadgum chassis is, or how purty, your got to get the engine right, and that there's all they are to it.  And I can tell you that you dadgum sure better not try none a them crap burners!  They ain't no good is what they ain't!  Leave you stopped on the side a the road's what they'll do.  Won't be doin' no dadgum racism bidness with them thangs is what you won't be doin'."

St. Taw:  "How does one develop an independent frame of mind?"

D.B.:  "Well, when it comes ta framin', I purty well like ol' Bobby George Ledbetter.  I know he'll get on the whiskey purty bad, but shoot, when he's a workin', they ain't nobody frames like he does.  You know what, I seen him frame a barn in four hour!  Four dadgum hour!  I tell you what, they ain't nobody gonna beat that.  You jist got to wait till he's off the whiskey, see?"

St. Taw:  "Does it bother you that you are considered a heretic by BOM?"

D.B.:  "What's this hairy tick bidness?"

St. Taw:  "Someone who ignores the rules."

D.B.:  "Oh, shoot, I don't ignore them BOM rules, I just don't pay 'em no mind when I got me a better bunch a ideas, see?  Now, you tell me somethin', when you in the dadgum outhouse and you hungry, why wouldn't you want a nice little ice box out there, and a micerwav and a beer keg and what not?  Why on earth you gonna go storvin' out there?  Shoot!  They ain't no good reason to go storvin'!  So, good night, a course I'm gonna ignore rules what is gonna storve me!"

St. Taw:  "Was there life on Mars?"

D.B.:  "Oh sure.  I don't know how they do it, but them Mars folks is a sendin' me boxes a candy ever dadgum week.  Sure wish I knowed how they doin' it.  Course, I ain't goin' on no aeroplane to go visit 'em, understand.  Still, I'm just a wonderin' how they do it."

St. Taw:  "Is your Rolling Outhouse a symbol for a Heavenly Outhouse?"

D.B.:  "Oh, shoot, I don't know 'bout that there.  I ain't never been up there.  I bet they got some real nice 'uns, though."

St. Taw:  "What is the metaphysical basis for Bellyism?"

D.B.:  "Wail, bein' a Belly means you foller the Belly Ways, 'cept for the ones you don't foller.  When you git caught not follerin' 'em, wail, you jist might git a samwichin' is what you might git.  Now, if yore astin' wher them Belly Ways come from, shoot, they ain't nobody knows, least not 'bout all of 'em.  Last big mess a Belly Ways was from grandma Maria.  She wadn't even no Belly!  Married into Bellys is what she done.  Still, she brunged a mess a Belly Ways.  Ain't no way for explainin' it is what they ain't.  Belly Ways is just Belly Ways is what they are, see?"

St. Taw:  "Do you have visions when you have a fud coma?"

D.B.:  "Sometimes I do!  How'd you know?!  Shoot, they ain't no tellin' what you gonna see and hear when you in the fud coma.  'Course, you shore don't want to go neglectin' yore fudin' between the fud comas!  Shoot, go and git the storvin' disease, and you won't be havin' no more fud comas is what you won't have!  You got to be careful 'bout yore fudin'!"

St. Taw:  "How can ordinary people achieve fud coma?"

D.B.:  "Oh, shoot, I don't know.  I reckon it ain't hard is it?  You do a mess a fudin', and don't let nona a that storvation sickness get no start, and there it'll come, see?"

St. Taw:  "What does the number ten mean and can it help us find the meaning of the symbols of our collective soul?"

D.B.:  "I'll tell you what, ten's the only nummer I been able to count to real good since I had the mumps.  I was ten when I got 'em.  You know what, I was countin' to a hunerd real good 'fore then, but after them mumps, my counter jist wouldn't work on me onct I got past ten.  But, shoot, that there ain't no problem.  I just use my little ol' 'bacus and keep track a everthang I want to keep track of is what I keep track of, see?"
 

Chapter 32
 

When Jaguar returned to the motel, he was a little tired after working 15 hours.  But not for long.  As soon as he opened the door, Buffy attacked him with an intense embrace and highly passionate kiss.  She pushed him down on the bed, saying, "Jag, I am so excited!  Just having your wullet around today has been such a turn on!  You're mine!  And I'm yours, dadgum it!  I love being your breedin' partner, and a Belly!"

Jaguar said, "Well, me too, darlin'!  Dadgum, you're somethin' else, Buf!"

Buffy said, "Baby, I've got some more big ideas, real big ideas.  I know my ideas have been really screwed up at times, but dadgum it, I can't help it.  I'm an idea gal, see?  Anyway, here's some ideas I've been thinking about all day.  Make that holes I'm wanting to dig, OK?  See what you think.

"First of all, here's an idea about where we're going to breed.  Instead of me living in Austin and you in College Station, let's live together in Dime Box!  Heck, Jag, Dime Box is 70 miles from Austin and 45 miles from College Station.  If you're willing to drive 90 miles a day to spend every night with me, I'll sure drive 140 miles a day to be with you every single night, see?"

Jaguar said, "Well, dadgum, Buf, that makes a lot of sense, I won't deny that, but shoot, I like College Station.  Don't forget about that quarter beer..."
 

Buffy said, "Jag, listen to me.  You're used to drinking quarter beer, flirting with airhead coeds and talking with your buddies about everything but things you're really interested in.  I'm used to hanging out in coffee shops, doing a little flirting with pseudo-intellectual types, and spending hours talking about fairly useless topics.  Jag, I'm telling you that we can both do better!  The Belly Ways, darlin', are better than that!  Living in Dime Box, and spending time around people who understand and follow those Belly Ways is a much better life.  That's the life I want, Jag.  Can't I have it, with you?"
 

Jaguar said, "Dadgum!  Buf, I grew up in Dime Box, and I know all about Belly Ways.  I like most of them, and I like spending time in Dime Box, but shoot, I sure don't have it in mind to live there the rest of my life.  I just got out!  I like College Station, dadgum it.  Now, just yesterday, you were aimin' to move to Austin, which is too much of a big city for me.  Today, you want to move out in the country, to Dime Box, and it's me who's wantin' to live in a bigger place, but one that's a lot smaller than Austin.  You're makin' me dizzy!"
 

Buffy said, "You're right, Jag!  I won't deny it.  Tell you what.  If it's OK with your folks, I'll move to Dime Box.  I'll live in the line shack we stayed in last weekend.  I love that place!  So, then you'll see whether I'm serious about living in Dime Box or if I'm just jumping from one idea to another.  If I'm serious, maybe you'll think about joining me.  I hope you will, but I don't blame you for wondering if I know what I'm talking about.  See?"
 

Jaguar said, "How long do you have in mind to live there?"
 

Buffy said, "The rest of my life, Jag.  I haven't even gotten started with telling you about all of my big ideas, and until you figure out that I'm serious about the first step, moving to Dime Box and staying, there's probably no point in getting into them.  I'll tell you though, darlin', that the main thing I want to do with my life is breed with you, learn Belly Ways, have babies with you, and teach them Belly Ways.  And Jag, you'll see that I'm serious about this, dadgum serious!"
 

Jaguar said, "Shoot, Buf, I guess you're tellin' me that you're more Belly than I am!  Well, dadgum, I sure love you, woman, and I'll try to get into the same diggin' pattern as you.  Right now, I ain't quite keepin' up!"
 

Buffy said, "Well, that's enough talkin' for now anyway, baby.  Let's get to breedin'!"

Chapter 33
 

All the while St. Taw was interviewing DB for posterity, a willowy figure was standing in the shadows sipping on an Old Milwaukee. After the interview was over, and DB had rushed back to the Mathis B6 for a refill, the willowy figure walked up to St. Taw and introduced herself, not only to St. Taw but also to Jaguar.

"Hi, I'm La-Pau."

Jaguar was first to respond, "Well, I'll be a Belly on a Saturday night! It's none other than the HHD herself."

St. Taw was puzzled, "Who or what is the HHD?"

"Why, don't tell me you ain't heard of her? She's in charge of the Decadians." After Jaguar said this, he stopped himself in midstream, slapped himself in the face and cried out, "Why I know why she's here! It's because we found the Decave."

"That's right, Jaguar. I'm here to see what's going on. Do you have any more Old Milwaukees by the way?"

"Sure thing, HHD." Jaguar hurried over to the cooler in the back of his truck.

"And who might you be?" La-Pau leveled her steely eyes straight at St. Taw.

"Alex St. Taw, professor of Natural Movements at Berkeley. I hold the Archie Abercrombie chair.

"Old Archie. Now that was a character. What brings you here?"

St. Taw knew that he was talking to a perfect stranger but felt comfortable somehow talking shop with her. "I'm doing a field study of Belly IQ."

La-Pau doubled over in laughter. "Hurry up with that OM, Jaguar."

Regaining control, she said, "I didn't know such a thing existed."

For some reason, St. Taw did not feel resentful of that remark. "Oh, yes, my theory is that Bellys, especially the regular ones with the big bellies, produce a stomach enzyme that increases blood flow to the brain thereby increasing intellectual acumen. My corollary theory is that this same enzyme hinders the development of the ability to speak proper English and also serves as a blinding agent, so Bellys don't even know they're smart. It blinds other people also. Even you, HHD." St. Taw drew the last three letters out, as they were words themselves.

"Fascinating theory, St. Taw. But that's all it is, a theory. Any proof?" La-Pau then said thanks as Jaguar handed her a new can of OM.

"The proof is coming down the road." St. Taw pointed toward the Rolling Outhouse as it headed toward the dig site. "No one but a genius could have created it. I rest my case."

La-Pau decided it was to end the conversation with St. Taw. She could continue it at a later time. At the moment she was more interested in what Jaguar had found in the Decave. This was a time of great crisis in the Decadian movement. The contents of the cave could decide the future of the Decadians!