NJ15

I dreamed again. But first, I visited Johnathon, as I do almost every day. He's still breathing on his own. Still just
"asleep." No outside medical machinery keeping him alive. The physical therapists are teaching me how to
exercise his muscles. It's difficult. He has very dense muscles. They tell me it's unusual but not unheard of. The
density makes it doubly hard to exercise him. They also make him heavier than he appears. That explains why
he was around 280 at the time of the accident, but only 5'8". (Something funny about that. Absolutely EVERY
person I've talked to who knows Johnathon was convinced he's at least six feet tall. He definitely had...has a
presence when he walks into a room. *grin*) Anyway, I got just as much a work out as he did. I was sweating by
the time we were done. Somewhere in his sleep, I'm sure he's laughing at me!

My dream. I went again, as I said earlier. I also "awakened" at the same place that I left...still staring into the
face of the insect creature. Maybe because it's a dream of sorts no time passes. I just don't know. I DO know
it's pretty cool!

Our faces were almost touching. I back-pedaled and ina blur of speed he flew backward, spinning, zipping off. I
could still hear the thrumming of his wings.

A moment later the thrumming became louder and he reappeared, hovering, quite a distance from me.

Then he moved closer.

I sat very, very still.

He came a little closer.

"Good hunting," he called out.

Chills raced through me. Every single damned follicle on my body must have tightened. English! He spoke
English! Or was I simply able to understand him? Again, I don't know.

I waited, fully expecting to awaken from the shock of hearing those words, but I stayed.

I swallowed hard and croaked out the same greeting in return. "Good hunting." My voice felt hollow in that vast
forest.

He hovered closer, looking around suspiciously and gesturing with his chin. "You different." Then he shrugged.
"Undergrowthers often different. You undergrowther?"

I shook my head. "I don't understand. Undergrowther?"

He squinted, his neck stretching out as he tried to examine me from a distance. His curiousity must have gotten
the better of him because he hovered even closer, his antennae bobbing oddly like he was listening, but probably
more like sniffing, him being insectile and all. I also felt a weird sense of deja vu. Something familiar but I
couldn't put my finger on it. Still can't.

I stared back, trying to put detail to memory for when I awakened. He was a dark dusky kind of brown. My eyes
widened again at the size of his penis. Even this close he was VERY large for his smallish body. I guess about,
oh, twelve inches long. Wowsers. And he was the same brownish color as his body, not lighter or darker like
most earthly mammals.

He didn't have any kind of fur on his body. Completely hairless. No fur of hair on his head either. No, wait, he
had that odd hood kind of affair on his head. He wore a tight, dark-colored belt that held a greenish pouch
against his waist. Nothing else. He had fine folds and wrinkles around hismouth and at his joints. Maybe he was
an older bug critter. I dunno. Oh. Big brown eyes, but again, they were human-like. All over his body were criss-
crossing lines. I'm not sure if they were age lines or scars. I'm hoping they were the former. For all that he wore
what I thought was a sweet expression.

He suddenly flew back when I smiled, moving in short, nervous jerks, looking around suspiciously.

"You not undergrowther. You outlier?" he asked.

I listened to him, trying to comprehend the meaning of his words. "I don't understand 'outlier.' I'm a stranger. A
traveler."

His eyes widened and a smile broke out on his face.

"Me friend to you, want to be," he said in broken

English. "Good hunting, outlier. Who you be? You

Truce with me?" he asked while stroking and then

offering his penis to me!!!

I couldn't help it. I stared. Yep. Still really big

and NOW it was getting stiff. I wondered if he'd

faint from all the blood it would take to erect

that thing. *smile* Then his words pierced that

fog of surprise and I realized he was greeting

me in a weird kind of friendship. He wasn't being

perverse. His face held no distrust. Nor did I

feel anything unseemly from him. Nothing seedy.

He just stared innocently at me. I wondered what

he meant by Truce.

Instead I nodded, pulling my eyes away from his

offering. "I'm not sure of the proper way to say this,

but, yes, I'll 'Truce' with you. I won't harm you, I

promise. Also, please don't harm me."

His antennae snapped forward and his eyes grew confused. "Harm?" He hovered away from me, glancing
around, crashing into some foliage and quickly flying away. "Someone harm you? Deviant? Threaten harm?
Who? Where?"

I shook my head to reassure him. "No. No harm."

He took a deep breath in what looked to be relief. I'll have to remember that. The idea of harm surprised and
alarmed him. (I also noticed that his odd abdomen and back-side swelled with the deep breath. Maybe his lungs
are not in his chest?)

"Good, good. I be Bahoogie," he told me, pointing at his chest as he flew more closely to me and stood on the
root. "Who you be?"

I smiled, trying not to laugh at his name. It sounded so silly. "I am Dani. Nice to meet you, Bahoogie."

We stared at one another for a moment. He moved closer to me, lifting into a hover as he circled me. Examining
me. "No wings. No extra arms. You predator or prey?"

I jumped at the question. Predator? Prey?

He must have seen my confusion. He settled into a squat on the branch in front of me and began speaking
slowly, as if to a young child. His head bobbed a lot while gesturing with he antennae as he spoke. "Predator
eats others. Guests them. Prey is eaten. IS guest. Which you?"

I became no less confused with his words. They EAT each other and yet he had been confused at my use of the
word 'harm!"

"I don't know," I told him truthfully.

He came close and reached out, gently tapping one of my hands. "You have stingers?"

"No."

He looked close at my face--my mouth. "Fangs?"

I could smell him when he got that close. The odor familiar and yet I couldn't place it. My mind raced. "No," I
repeated.

"Deedee tongue?" he asked, staring at my mouth.

"What's a deedee tongue?"

He grinned widely, showing waht looked at first to be straight teeth until I realized it more resembled a bone
ridge. Not actual teeth.

"Deedee long, long, long, tongue," he explained. "Used to paralyze and suck juices from prey."

He then stuck out his own tongue. If deedee tongues were "long, long, long, tongues,' I'd hate to see them. His
had to be six inches long! Ewww. That's six inches that extended past his teeth. It doesn't count what was inside
his mouth. I shuddered. "No. No deedee tongue."

Delighted, his tongue snapped back into his mouth. I wonder where it all went? What about the predators? How
can such long tongues fit? WHERE do they fit?

He settled back down on the root in front of me. "Not predator. Maybe prey. S'okay. But dumb prey. You be
careful. You get eaten quick quick. You not got stinger. No wings. What you struggle with?"

I shook my head, worried now and looking around as much as him. "I don't know. I'm a stranger here. I don't
even know how I got here."

He sat perplexed, then tapped the side of his head as he stepped closer. "You hit head, maybe?" he asked, his
antennae reaching out toward my face ever so lightly. They touched and explored with the softness of a feather.
It felt the same way a blind person might "look" at someone. He peered up into the air. "You fall?" Then he
looked down. "Or climb far from deep undergrowth?"

He stared again, nodding emphatically. "You fall, yes? You guested?" He frowned as he looked me up and
down. "Not good host. They make you naked. You wait!"

He suddenly hovered upward and flew toward some hanging vines. I watched him pull on a few and grab those
that fell loose. He returned and settled back next to me, doing something to the vine pieces. I realized he was
weaving something with very dextrous fingers!

After a minute he held up a rather nicely woven strip. He leaned forward and wrapped his tiny arms around me,
settling the strip around my waist like a belt. He used a very strong piece of something like wood or hardened
plant material as a buckle! I now wore a belt!

He nodded proudly. "You not naked now! Good, good!"

I almost laughed. Wearing something as simple as a belt made it so I was no longer naked! I was reminded of
some of the natives in New Guinea.

"Why...thank you!" I told him, still wondering at the odd perspective.

He considered me again and shook his head, reaching out and touching my arm. Skin not colored right to be from
below. You move fast? You strong? Not look too strong. Look soft." Then he touched my tummy! "You round.
Big titties." He quickly lifted my breasts and let them drop. "You good prey." He winked at me and stroked
himself again, almost absently masturbating.

I drew back, speechless, and blushed from head to toe. The look I'd seen on his face was one I'd seen often--on
human males. Predatory in its own way, but also a compliment. He was leering!

Now I recognized his odor. It was a sexual kind of fragrance, heavy in the air.

I began laughing. And woke up laughing! Damn! Damn! Damn!

But I went! I dreamwalked. Really DREAMWALKED again! Woo hoo!

I bounced out of bed, awake and delighted. Then I stopped short. Ice snaked its way through my spine as I
looked down at myself.

I still wore the belt.

I stared, afraid to touch it. I sat down on the edge of my bed and zorned. Spaced out.

How could it come WITH me? It didn't look quite the same as I remembered. It didn't have the plant feel to it
that it had while I was there. Now it felt like a fine doe-skin. Very soft. It was a duller green than I remembered
as well.

I decided not to take it off quite yet, afraid it might disappear.

Only the phone ringing jarred me from my reverie. The message machine picked it up. Fleur's soft drawl floated
through the room.

"I'm gettin' off early so decide on dinner or maybe we can go out. Yeah, that sounds good. So, you be ready
when ah get there."

I decided right then--looking at the belt aroundmy waist and hearing Fleur's voice--that I'd share with her
tonight. I had proof of sorts. Maybe that would help.

I spent the rest of the day working on those art commissions and the Memory part of my journal. Occasionally I
paused in my painting or writing and tried to do sketches of Bahoogie. That makes me smile every time I say it.
Bahoogie! Bahoogie! Bahoogie!