by Peter Ponzo
Chapter 25
It wasn't a question, I simply said: "You knew all along that Josephine Cowley was staying with us."
"Yes, ma'am."
"The paper said she was a principal witness in Oerschott's death, released on bail. Why didn't you pick her up, for questioning, if you knew she was here?"
"Ah had already questioned her once. Knew she was gonna be right here when Ah needed to question her ag'in. No need to make the lady uncomfortable. If'n she knew Ah was hounding her she'd a left town and—"
"Hello, William Boone," Josey said, leaning against the door jamb, dressed in a nightie, a veil covering her face, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lower lip.
"Ms. Cowley?" Boone asked, rising quickly from his chair, standing for a moment then sitting again.
"Bet your life, lover," she said, removing the cigarette from her mouth.
"Josey," I said, "would you please remove your veil. Mr. Boone knows everything."
Yet, even I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Josey's face was completely covered in short dark hair, her eyes red and beady, glistening through the shaggy growth. Boone rose again from his chair, slowly this time.
"Jiminy crickets," he managed to say. "Ms. Cowley—Dermafix —gorilla." The words came out in short bursts. Then he looked at me. "It's true, this theory," he said. "They jest turn to gorillas."
Josey began to cry, collapsing into a heap by the door.
"Terrible sorry, ma'am," Boone said. "Ah jest meant ... like von Oerschott ... Ah mean—"
There was little we could say. Josey was in bad shape. Poor kid. She had been devolving, her genes reflecting their prehistoric antecedents, her body changing into some cave-dwelling creature.
"Ma'am," Boone said, still staring at Josey but talking to me, "kin y'all change the direction of this ... this transformation, reverse the process, make Ms. Cowley whole ag'in?"
Josey looked up, listening intently for a reassuring response. I had none to give.
"I don't know," I said. "I haven't been too successful so far, but perhaps I was on the wrong track. I only recently thought of this theory of devolution."
"Miss Fleetsmith," Charles said, "you asked me to remind you of a theory you have—about Dermafix and men and apes—is that the theory you are now enunciating?"
"Sort of. I first thought that men devolved to apes—the effect of this fungus—and that women turned into ... well, it's so stupid ..."
"Y'all mean thet women turn to men?" Boone asked. "Man, a ancient savage, more ancient than women?"
"Sorry, it's stupid," I said.
"Eve, taken from the rib of Adam," Charles said, "would make Man the progenitor of Woman."
"Okay, okay, I said it was stupid!" I was getting angry. "Maybe I shouldn't regurgitate these ideas until I've had a chance to clarify matters in my own mind. I just thought, there were men but so few women among the Chockli ... never mind, it's stupid."
"Please, please, Fran, do something," Josey moaned, "I'd rather die than be like this."
I felt so helpless.
"Josey, we'll do it. We'll reverse the process," I said. "Now, why don't you rest for a while, in your cocoon."
Josey cried out. Cocoon? Had I said cocoon? I jumped up and ran to her, collapsing to the floor beside her, pulling her to me.
"Josey, I'm terribly sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean that. It just slipped out. It's been trying for all of us. Please, Josey, rest for a while, in your … in your room."
Josey climbed to her feet, leaned heavily against the wall, then backed out of the doorway, still sobbing.
"Shit," I muttered, "this isn't in any textbook. I'd have to fully understand the process, investigate the genetic transformation, see how it evolves. I'd have to—"
"Ma'am," Boone said, "you went to Brazil. Did you see any gorillas?"
I turned to Boone, amazed.
"Mr. Boone," I said, more anger in my voice than I had intended, "South America has no gorillas and, in case you failed Geography 101, Brazil is located in South—"
"Ah knows thet apes ain't native to Brazil, but this here weed grows in Brazil," Boone said, his voice quiet but resolute. "It changes people into gorillas. Why ain't they no gorillas in Brazil?"
Clever. Gorillas in Brazil. This cowboy is clever. Why hadn't I thought of that?
Charles had been quiet until now, staring at the kitchen door, seemingly distressed by the sight of Josey. Now he turned to me and exclaimed, "Of course! Gorillas in Brazil!" He leaned against the table, his eyes flashing. "Miss Fleetsmith, why didn't we observe apes among the Chockli?"
"Chockli?" Boone said. "Y'all said thet before. What's Chokli?"
"Natives of Brazil," Charles said. "Miss Fleetsmith and I obtained the weed from a small village in the foothills of the Pellita Mountains. There were no apes living among the natives. Nothing to indicate that the weed affected the natives as it does us—Josephine, von Oerschott—"
"And few females," I added. I started to hum and stare at the ceiling. Boone had made a good point. No gorillas in Brazil. All this was tied together, somehow.
"Mr. Boone," I said, "this was one very curious collection of natives. Perhaps a hundred males and only a dozen females. There was some ritual which we've yet to understand. A female is taken to a clearing in the jungle, tied to a stone statue of a woman with child. The other natives, all male, sit on smaller statues arrayed around the bound female. The smaller statues are reasonably smooth, little more than blobs of stone."
I looked from Boone to the ceiling to Charles. "Charlie and I thought the lack of detail on these smaller statues was meant to indicate that the bodies were enclosed in a cocoon, the Dermafix cocoon, if you will."
Boone coughed lightly, as though he had something to say. I waited.
"Ma'am," he said, "how'd y'all know 'bout this here ritual?"
"We saw it," I said.
"And they was a female, tied to the statue?" Boone said.
"Indeed there was," Charles said.
"And what happened to thet female," Boone said. "Did the gal git turned to an ape?"
"Miss Fleetsmith and I rescued her," Charles said, rising from his chair and dramatically opening his arms. I could see it coming. "We stood beyond the statue of the woman," Charles continued, "raised the stone child above our heads, recited from Shakespeare ... to be or not to be, that is the question. Whether t'is nobler—"
"Cut the shit, Charlie," I said, admiring his flare for the dramatic, even under the present tragic circumstances.
"Yes, quite so," Charles continued, dropping his hands. "Well, the natives were suitably impressed and retreated into the jungle which left us free to leave the scene with Penny in hand."
"Penny?" Boone asked.
"The native girl," I said.
"What happened to this gal?" Boone asked.
"Upstairs," I said.
William Boone jumped to his feet.
"What! Y'all got a gal from Brazil, right here, in TO City? One of them Chockli, right here?"
"Rightly so, Mr. Boone," Charles said with some pride in his voice. "I have been teaching Miss Penny how to converse in English and she has become quite proficient at the language. Indeed, just the other day—"
"Ah'd like to see this li’l gal," Boone said in a most authorative voice, pushing his stetson onto his head and standing about ten feet tall.
Charles looked meekly at me and I nodded. He left immediately. This was real theatre.