The Creature of all Creatures
By Aston Shuford
It was a dark night, beginning not so stormy.
The wind then screamed with little warning.
‘Twas a quarter ‘till eleven
right when the heavens began to boom and shake.
Now, I’ve seen much in all my days.
The industrial age,
to the renaissance faze,
but I do say this truly takes the cake,
for the night takes a turn.
I’ll say that plainly.
To be caught in this would be a shame, see.
Although the bolt held no weather rainy,
You could most tell,
that Zeus was angry.
I wish I could tell you what peeved the sky god, but godly affairs are always the most complex, yet ridiculous and trivial things. I chose not to attempt to remember his grudge that night. However, I do hold the rest within my mind and word. Sit, and I’ll indulge you in the details.
Now, you might know Zeus to live on Mount Olympus. This fact rings true in the story, but is the whole tale not a miracle? When the lightning man hurled his lightning bolt in frustration, he slipped on the floor of clouds. This caused him to miss egregiously, sending the bolt flying across the world and landing in the woods of Oregon. Quite a ridiculous coincidence, I must say.
I trust you remember my telling of the lack of precipitation that night. Because there was nothing to douse the vegetation, Zeus’ lightning set the trees ablaze. The fire spread like–well– a wildfire. The locals were in trouble, yes, but the more important wildlife was in greater danger. This is where the large one comes in.
See, every world needs a guardian of the green lands, a hero of the forest. The trees and critters can’t defend themselves, so they need someone to speak for them. Up to this night, this world lacked that someone, but this couldn’t have been a better moment for him to make his appearance.
The common legend says that Athena placed him where he appeared, but I know the truth: He showed up on his own accord. Before the fire, he was tranquilly resting in his world away from ours, awaiting the cries of those who needed him. When he heard the screams of the forest and town, he was awakened.
The next thing one’s ears picked up was another series of booms. This time, they didn’t come from the heavens. They came from the ground. He ran with enough force and speed to quake the Earth. Yes, he was very fast. I had nary a stopwatch on me at the time to tell you exactly, but I can say with certainty that he evacuated all the animals from the flaming forest in less than 60 seconds. It was an amazing thing to see. To finish the job, he clapped his hands with the force of a hundred thunders, extinguishing the fire in one quick swoop, bending the trees backwards, and throwing off the trajectory of the birds above the scene. And just as quickly as it had started, it was over. The forest was saved. All of the creatures had been returned to where they were before the bolt, but a little bit closer to food. As for the guardian, now that he has been summoned into this world, he must find a place to reside. So, he located a small cave within the woodland and rested, waiting to be awoken again.
The next morning, the townsfolk woke to a news report on strange happenings in and around the nearby woods. A fire sprouted in the night, only to be resolved before one could cry about it. Everyone chalked it up to a coincidence and moved on without further questions, but they were fools to do so.
Weeks later, the local lumberjack, Chad Oppemdown, emerged from his home with his trusty axe and set out for the forest to do lumberjack things. Like the rest of the village, he was none-the-wiser to the primordial force living among the very trees he planned to chop down.
As he always had, while Chad strolled to his destination, he whistled a little tune. Now, I must admit, I never really liked Mr. Oppemdown. Like our gargantuan friend, I disapproved of his profession. But, to give credit where it’s due, that song he composed is rather catchy.
Anyway, after all these years of Chad’s work, the forest critters have begun to recognize his whistle and associate it with the destruction he causes when he’s around. They also have become acquainted and friendly with the hairy guy since he first appeared. Because of these factors, when the critters heard Mr. Oppemdown’s whistle, they rushed to relay the news to their protector, the birds reaching his cave first. The feathered ones frantically pecked at him and chirped as loud as they could to convey that the monster was coming. Not having a shared language between them, the great one let out a low grunt, signaling the birds to direct him to the threat. Not even I know what happened after that, but one thing is certain:
Chad Oppemdown was never seen again.
Several other similar incidents involving the sizable boy would continue to occur across the globe over the course of the next few months. Forest fires, hunters, lumberjacks, paper company troops, and all others with destructive intentions for his wilderness. Gone like the wind that makes the trees sway so.
About ninety days after Chad went missing, the people finally woke up and got their priorities straight. A duo of officers were sent into the giant’s resting greenland to investigate. Ben and Steve were their names. As they traversed, their conversation went something like this:
“You told your family you loved them before you left home, right?” asked Ben.
“Yeah, why?” Steve responded.
“We were sent to investigate the same woods that Chad went missing in, and they suspect that there’s a ‘supernatural creature’ roaming this place that might have had something to do with his disappearance,” said Ben.
“You really believe that junk?” Steve teased.
“Honestly, yeah. Think of all the crazy stuff that’s been happening in forests all over the world. This wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary,” Ben said.
“I don’t buy it. Sounds like a bunch of bologna.” Steve was always quite a stubborn man.
“Well, I guess we’ll just agree to disagree.”
Ben paused for a bit, then piped up again.
“You know, this thing doesn’t have a name.”
“So what?” Steve retorted.
“I doubt that we’ll make it out of these woods alive, but if we do, I want to return with a name for the beast,” Ben declared.
“Don’t you think that would be a waste of the already little brainpower you have?” Steve remarked.
“No,” Ben said with naive enthusiasm.
For the next few minutes, Ben brainstormed names for our pal, getting shot down by Steve every time.
“Green Guy!”
“No.”
“The Loch Ness Monster!”
“Taken.”
“The Lorax?”
“Copywrited.”
“What about the Super-Duper-Uber Tree Protector Thing?-”
“Ben, shut up and come look at this!” Steve was kneeling down, looking at a giant indention in the dirt.
Ben raced over to where Steve was and looked down. “Wowzers!”
“I know, right? Maybe there is a supernatural creature in the forest. This print was definitely made by a very big foot.”
Ben kneeled down to Steve’s level and slowly turned his head over to face him.
“Say that again.”
“The print was made by a big foot?”
“I think I’ve got it. Hear me out.”
And that brings us to where we are now. That’s all there is to know about the guy. I’d like to stay and chat, but I’ve got to go. I promised the great one that I’d visit him tonight. I’ll see ya’ ‘round.