by Jerry Brown
The show of courage and control Bowman maintained in front of his foe soon escaped him. No further than one half mile away from the sandbar, but well beyond the sight of the man, he was forced to release the throttle to pause in a shaded area. He could no longer control the overpowering hyperventilation. In the course of his discomfort, he vomited over the side of the boat and simultaneously lost sphincter control. Tears welled in his eyes.
Chapter 46
Once composed, Bowman motored to the cabin, glanced furtively in all directions, then rushed to the bathroom and showered. He then ran water in the tub and threw in his clothes to soak. He went to the kitchen to brew coffee and noticed a new, more compact, gray monitor on the kitchen table with a note from Yvonne asking him to call her.
He checked the old black monitor for any movement of the vest since that unit had been calibrated. The transmitter was operating, but clearly the vest had not been moved. "Big Ugly" had not taken the bait. Bowman's shoulders sagged. He abruptly flicked the switch.
He knew that he should call Yvonne. But if he did he would have to admit defeat and that was not a conversation he wanted to have just then. He brewed coffee instead. After pouring a mug half full and sweetening it, he carried it to a bedside table, propped the pillows, sat back and sipped his coffee. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of scrambling claws outside atop a window air conditioner unit six feet away. He turned to the window as a large crow righted itself and wobbled over to stare menacingly at him. He froze as the bird sharply pecked the windowpane. He shuddered and flashed his hand. The crow flew away. Taking a deep breath, he considered that perhaps the bird pecked at its reflection in the window. Unconvinced and uneasy, he left the bed and grabbed the phone to call Yvonne.
When she answered, he detected relief in her voice and said to her: "I found the monitor and your note. Sorry to miss seein' you. I was at the lagoon." "You sound a little down. Isn't your plan working?"
"Yes and no. 'Big Ugly' found me and watched me from hiding. I agitated him a little and threw the vest over on the sandbar this afternoon. So far, he hasn't accepted it." He took a seat and leaned back. "Yvonne, I'm open to any ideas you may have to trick this guy into acceptin' the vest."
"I'll give it some thought, but don't hold your breath cause I don't have a clue."
"Do you think perhaps you might drop by tomorrow and help me to calibrate the new monitor?
"Sure, if we can get it all done in daylight. Come dark, I intend to be long gone."
He chuckled. "Come whenever you like," he said. "It shouldn't take very long."
He returned to the bathtub and jiggled his clothes, drained the water and refilled the tub again. He was about to repeat the process when the telephone rang. It was Yvonne.
"Bowman, have you considered that he may be setting you up?"
"Big Ugly?"
"Sure, sitting in ambush, waiting for you to sneak back and retrieve the vest."
"Yvonne, he's not that smart."
"Just because he can't communicate and isn't socialized doesn't mean that he's stupid."
"Well, I'm willin' to concede that I don't give him enough credit. To be honest, no, that possibility didn't occur to me."
"Well, don't go pick up the vest."
"No, I definitely won't do that. Wait a minute. Let me switch on the monitor." He shifted his attention to the monitor. "No, it hasn't been moved."
"If I'm right, he won't move it before dusk at the earliest. Don't give up yet. I'll see you in the morning."
He wasn't convinced, but his enthusiasm in studying operating instructions for the new monitor returned. It was tedious for him and required concentration. The new monitor was substantially more complex than the old one. When he decided it would neither bite him nor explode, he plugged in the unit and switched it on. He was pleased that Yvonne would be coming tomorrow to calibrate it.
He expected its readings to be substantially different from the previous monitor, but not anything like what he saw. The blips on the new unit were about a quarter mile further north. For comparison, he plugged in the old monitor, as well. Surprisingly, the readings were substantially the same on each monitor, but the positions on the screens were different than before. Puzzled initially, a smile then crossed his face and he popped to his feet.
The location of the vest had changed and was moved! Bowman was ecstatic and watched the monitors until movement stopped.
Using the government chart and previously recorded measurements, he extrapolated the location of the transmission and marked it on the government chart and then transferred the mark to the homemade topographical chart. It was a point in the north central area of the land mass, well back from the shoreline and about a quarter of a mile northeast of the location of Flint's attack. Must be the location of "Big Ugly's" base camp.
He decided to check the monitors each quarter hour until midnight. He didn't expect movement, but he intended to miss nothing. When there was no change throughout the period, he set the alarm clock to ring at three in the morning.
Not normally an early riser, he awoke instantly in response to the alarm and scampered to switch on the monitors. The location of the transmission remained unchanged, no movement. His eyes flicked between the two screens, as he prepared to brew his coffee. At dawn he noticed the first clear indications of movement and felt like dancing a gig. He reacted by slamming his hand on the table forcefully and loudly yelling: "Yes, yes, yes!"
Bowman recorded the time of the first movement and reached for the telephone as the transmission sights drifted toward the northeastern edge of the shoreline.
"Hello," Yvonne answered, sleepily.
"Good mornin', Sport."
"Bowman, I said I was coming out early, but I didn't mean this damn early. Don't you ever sleep?"
"Not this mornin', I don't. Yvonne, we have movement. You were right. The vest was moved late yesterday afternoon and activity began again early this mornin'. I thought you'd be excited."
"Hell, Bowman, I'm still asleep. You want me to come out now?"
"No, but I didn't want you to leave before I had a chance to ask you to make more photocopies of your dad's chart."
"You want the regular ones or the enlarged ones?"
"About five of each."
"What are you up to now?"
"I just want to record his daily movements to understand his movement patterns and to determine how set his routine is."
"You're going to stare at the screen for five days?"
"Maybe, I don't know yet."
"When will you know?"
"I don't know the answer to that question." He looked up at the ceiling.
"Well, don't you think you should contact the sheriff up there and let him know what you're doing?"
"Probably."
"Will you?"
"Not for awhile. I don't want to rush things. You saw what happened the last time an arrest was attempted. I don't want him to get away this time. Besides, Tolliver is so ornery he may order me to shut down the operation. Don't want that."
"What if he hurts someone in the meantime. Are you prepared to deal with that?" Yvonne asked.
"Yes. As long as he stays where he is, the risks are minimal. The public knows generally where he is. Every time I open a newspaper or turn on the news the media is pingin' on the authorities for their inaction and warnin' folks to avoid the swamp. Anyone foolish enough to enter the swamp with him there is takin' his own risks. I'm not goin' to accept their responsibility. Listen, go back to sleep. There's nothin' to do here but ride herd on that monitor."
"Okay, I'll come out around noon," she said. "And Bowman, I'm glad your mood has improved."
"I'm soarin', Yvonne!"
"Yeah, I know. I can tell from the tone of your voice. Congratulations!"
Chapter 47
Yvonne entered the cabin pulling back a lock of hair from her forehead. Bowman's eyes were glued to the new monitor. He yelled for her to come and relieve him. He ran for the rest
room. As she sat before the screen, he returned to the room drying his hands with a towel. He reached down and kissed the side of her forehead. "Hello, Sunshine," he said.
"Gawd, Bowman, I'm not sure I can take all this mood swing."
"I'm high all right." He stuck out his chest and pranced around the room. "Every blip is a pat on the back."
Leaving Yvonne facing the monitors, he walked out of the cabin to her car and returned with the chart copies. He took one of the enlarged copies, placed a walkie-talkie beside her and unplugged the old monitor, checking to be sure the batteries were operational before switching it off.
"I want to get come closer readings. I'll take one of the other transmitters and click it on at various points so that you can double check the distances on the new monitor."
"Are you going to Manny's Lagoon?"
"Naw, I figured I'd go way around and come in from the north. I expect 'Big Ugly' to be in the southern part of his territory this afternoon, and I don't want to do anything to alter his routine." He braced the black monitor in the crook of his arm and carried a walkie talkie in his hand. "I'll call in from way up north of him to verify that he's well away from the area. If so, I'll go to those points to the north where you stopped the other day."
Bowman planned to kill several birds with one stone. He needed to ensure the distances indicated on the new monitor were as accurate as possible, but he also wanted to test distance measurements from close range for comparisons with what Yvonne was viewing simultaneously from a greater distance. He also wanted to cross reference the time and the route of "Big Ugly's" trek to the lagoon. He maintained his distance to the north of the high ground and held radio contact with Yvonne, coordinating with her each move the creature was making.
Once he was sure he could not be seen by "Big Ugly", he switched on the spare transmitter at each previous location to compare the monitor measurements. Once this was done, he clicked on his monitor and motored a short distance to the east to be absolutely certain he would not be seen by "Big Ugly". He marked the stationary point of transmission near the lagoon on his chart, intending to monitor the transmission until the man moved to his base camp, but after an extended wait, he decided to take a circular route back to the cabin.
While the boat skimmed slowly in the water, the radio squawked. It was Yvonne calling to tell him to hurry back to the cabin as she had something to show him. He increased his speed up the canal, tied the boat loosely to the pier and walked quickly through the sliding glass doors.
She looked up at him and said, "Look at this, the transmitter hasn't moved from that spot in about forty five minutes. Do you know where that spot is?"
"I'd have to measure to be sure, but my guess would be at or near the sandbar where he got the vest in the first place."
"Precisely, now what do you make of that?"
"Two things come to mind. One's bad news and the other's disastrous. He's either rejecting the vest or he's re-baiting to ambush me."
"What's so bad about him baiting you, since you're not going to react to it?"
"What's bad is that he's out of his normal routine. I want to be able to count on him doin' the same thing everyday at about the same time."
"I don't understand why that is so important. It's not that large a land area."
"That's exactly the reason timin' will be so important."
"I still don't understand."
"Let's just wait and see what happens, Yvonne. Could you stay long enough to allow me to take a nap. I didn't get much sleep last night, and it's beginnin' to look like I won't get much tonight either."
"Sure, I've got nothing else to do and what could possibly be more entertaining than watching the blip on a small monitor screen?" she said sarcastically.
"Well, if I'm not up when he moves it, wake me. If he moves it, I'll have plenty of time to sleep."
"Do you think he's going to take it back?"
"Gosh, I hope so. If he doesn't, the jig's up. I'll just have to go to the sheriff with what I have."
Bowman fell immediately into a deep sleep. He felt as if he just laid down when he heard Yvonne softly calling his name. It was noticeably darker. He walked past her to the sliding glass doors while rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm as he looked out the cabin, confirming that it was the latter stages of dusk. He moved and leaned beside her when she pointed to the monitor. Seeing movement, he looked at his watch and recorded the time, then watched the blip make its way slowly back to its position of the previous evening. He looked over smiling to Yvonne and gave a thumbs up signal. A plan had been forming and developing unconsciously in his mind from the beginning, perhaps even as early as his review of Yvonne's father's charts on his introduction to the swamp that earlier Sunday afternoon. But much of it had been below the conscious level. It was now becoming clear what he must do and each step he must follow. Simply a matter of completing the process.
Chapter 48
That evening Bowman felt more relaxed than at any time since he moved into the cabin. He sat on the deck, leaning back slightly on the back two legs of the plastic chair, feet resting on the railing, watching darkness chase the light past the treetops.
Once it became too dark to see, he walked inside the cabin to study the charts and reassure himself on the times and routes of the quarry's daily movements.
He reached for the phone and punched in long ago memorized numbers that would connect him with Annie. He shared with her all that was happening, well almost everything, confiding that he was at ease and that she was sorely missed.
He picked up the clock, about to set the alarm through habit, before realizing that a tight routine was no longer necessary.
Sleeping soundly, he was abruptly wakened by a rustling outside the window close to the bed. His eyes clicked to the window to see the ugly face and large eye of a bird close to the glass, staring down at him. He flicked the bed sheet. The bird bolted and flew away. Damned crow. What's the matter with that crazy bird?
Turning and placing his feet to the floor, he rubbed his eyes, stretched his back, then forced himself to stand. After filling the coffee maker, he slipped on a pair of jeans and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the coffee to brew.
It was too early to head for the lagoon, Big Ugly wouldn't be there yet. He occupied himself deep cleaning each room of the cabin. Satisfied each room was spic and span, he returned the broom and mop to the holder behind the pantry door, then turned on the new monitor and glanced at his watch. Just as I suspected, he's made his turn from the east point. Now he'll scout the rest of his territory. Events are now under my control. Feeling cocky, he rushed to the skiff. The engine started on the first pull.
With the line out and the float bobbing in the water, he otherwise made no pretense at fishing, and wore no hat to shade his eyes. His attention was on his watch, the monitor screen and the chart. All he wanted from this afternoon was to confirm the exact moment Big Ugly began his southern trek and to determine the length of time it took him to complete his route. Next, he hoped to see if the guy would be agitated enough by his presence to show himself. Regardless, he intended to pile on the agitation.
Suddenly, at about 3pm, the location of the blip on the monitor moved. Bowman's body tensed - his fingers began to shake. Although he could not see him, he knew exactly where he was hiding. He clicked off the monitor and stared at the area where he knew Big Ugly must be crouching. He saw and heard nothing in response. For almost an hour, they had a Mexican standoff. Finally, Bowman decided to leave. He eased the boat forward at minimal speed for a few feet, then stopped the boat and stood to his full height. Then crouching, he placed his elbow at his groin, clenched his fist and made an obviously understandable up and down movement. A roar came from the bushes. Bowman did not turn. He sat back down and slowly motored away, this time in a direction away from the cabin.
Circling the northern limits of Big Ugly's territory, he dropped anchor, then clicked on the monitor and watched for movement. After twenty
minutes of inaction, he retrieved the anchor and cranked the engine.
As he passed outside the inlet to the lagoon, he understood what was happening. The vest lay prominently displayed where the sand met the mud. He continued on as if he had not seen it and returned to the cabin, then plugged the monitor to the electrical outlet. Sipping lemonade on the deck, he passed back through the sliding glass doors every few minutes to check the monitor. The signals from the vest remained stationary from the sand bar until late dusk and then moved back to the base camp. Bowman stared at the moving blips.
He returned the next day to the same spot. Events were similar, except that the vest was not offered up. Blips on the monitor indicated movement coming from the same area as the previous day. Again, Bowman sat in the boat, this time a little farther from land. He didn't want the long wait of the previous day. Standing up, he turned his back to the sandbar and lowered his pants. Mooning in the direction where he believed Big Ugly was hiding, he then shook his backside at him. It worked. He got the roar. Without delay, he cranked the motor and returned to the cabin, content that nothing more needed to be done for now.
That evening, he called Annie to hear her voice and made a date to meet her at the Mobile airport on Saturday afternoon. Then he called Yvonne to tell her it would all be over by late tomorrow afternoon. He disclosed no more of his plans, but agreed to call her shortly after she got home from work the next evening.
He slept fitfully that night. The alarm rang at 3 am; he bolted to his feet; then, in contrast, leisurely packed his suitcases and placed them by the front door, keeping out a pair of jeans, a long sleeve khaki shirt and the camouflage vest. He put on his old cross trainers that would leave a distinctive print. Then he went to the cupboard next to the stove where self-sealing plastic bags were kept. He considered selecting the quart or gallon size and blurted, "What the hell." He stuffed one of the larger bags in his vest.
Switching on the new monitor, he checked the location of the stationary blip. He dressed and wriggled into the shoulder holster, covering it with the camouflage vest, and placed the shotgun strap over his right shoulder. He checked the monitor again, then carried it to the boat.