A Mushroom for Bobo

Jon wouldn't be in this idiotic situation if he hadn't tried to clear the air shaft alone. Now here he was, pinned under a dead tree, dressed in a bug costume.

"Commander Fallon will bust me to bat herder for this." Ambitious and headstrong at twenty-three, Jon was the youngest Cavern Guard ever to be promoted to Perimeter Patrol. He activated his communicator, wondering if this bright summer morning would mark the end of his career.

"Three to Control, over."

"Go ahead, Three."

"I've had an accident, Control. I'm on the surface."

"Is there a security breech?"

"Negative."

"Are you hurt?"

"Not seriously."

"What is your back-up's status?"

"I have no back-up, Control."

"No back-up? You know you're not supposed to do topside maintenance without one."

"Yes, sir. I thought I could clear an air shaft obstruction by myself. I was afraid the climate barrier might have been damaged.”

"Is your uniform intact?"

"Affirmative."

"What is your location?"

"Air shaft seventeen-victor."

"Dispatching rescue squad, stand by."

"Standing by." Jon still couldn't get used to the idea of a bug costume as Perimeter Patrol uniform, but knew it was necessary to mislead the moronic surface dwellers. The uniforms had to be worn by anyone leaving the caverns' security for the polluted surface world. They came with built-in aerosol dispensers which emitted noxious fumes, giving morons the fallacious idea that cave dwellers were nothing more than giant stink bugs. Absurd, yet effective.

"Control to Three, over."

"Go ahead, Control."

"Rescue squad en route, ETA 15 minutes. Please describe the exact nature of your accident."

"I was patrolling victor section and noticed a dead tree had fallen against air shaft seventeen. I climbed up to dislodge the tree but slipped. I am currently at the base of the shaft with my left leg pinned under the tree. Stand by, Control; possible code 7."

Code 7 was the signal for approaching danger and told the dispatcher to maintain radio silence. Jon reached for his aerosol fumigator, but it had been damaged in the fall. He heard the morons talking as they entered the clearing, in the center of which was air shaft seventeen-victor. A vertical steel cylinder enclosed by an earthen berm, it looked like the entrance to an enormous insect nest.

“Lookie there, Bobo," said the fat moron. "It's one of them giant stink bug nests. Let's go check it out!"

"Shoot no! You ever smelled one of them bugs? It'll gag a maggot." Bobo was taller than the fat one, and hairy.

"Awe, come on. You afraid of a dang bug?"

"Okay, but if I get stink on me, I swear I'll knock a knot on your head."

"I dare you to climb up that blowed-over tree and look down in there!"

"Dares go first -- Hey, look! That tree done squished one of them bugs! Oh, man, I hope it didn't squish the stink out of him!"

Jon risked a whispered transmission. "Positive code 7, multiple morons. Locking communicator in transmit mode."

"Is he dead, Bobo?"

"He must be. I don't smell no stink. Help me move this tree and we'll find out."

Jon couldn't help groaning when the tree came off his leg.

"Did you hear that, Bobo? He's alive! Let's put the poor critter out of his misery!"

"Sounds good to me. Let's whack him with these here big sticks."

Without an injured leg, Jon could have taken the two morons easily . He needed a plan.

"Hello gentlemen," Jon said as the morons raised their sticks to smash his skull. "Thank you for removing that dreadful tree from my leg. It was so very painful, you know."

The fat moron screamed. They dropped their sticks and ran. Jon breathed a sigh of relief.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Bobo said. "What the heck was that?" They stopped and looked back. "A talking stink bug! Hmm... he's crippled, he didn't stink us; I know, let's take him back to town and show the others!"

Great, thought Jon. Now what? "Easy with the leg, fellows."

Jon had an idea on the way but needed information. "Thanks again for rescuing me. By the way, what kind of bugs are you?"

"We ain't bugs, you idiot!" the fat one answered. "We're men! Ain't you ever seen no men before?"

"Men, eh? I see. Do you live in underground nests like us stink bugs?"

"Heck no. We live up here on top of the ground. You ain't very smart, are you?"

"Apparently not. You 'men' certainly seem to have a corner on the intellect market."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. So tell me, how big is this town of yours?"

"It's a big one. We got this many men and this many women." He held up a total of seven fingers. Bobo here, he's the head guy. Ain't that right, Bobo?"

"Don't you feel kind of stupid talking to a sting bug?" replied Bobo.

"Don't you go calling me stupid, Bobo! I'll kick your butt!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Jon grinned. Seven adults, he thought. Things are looking up. Bobo and the fat one argued all the way to town.

Soon the other morons were assembled to see Bobo's spectacular talking stink bug, and Jon began to unfold his plan; the leg much better.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I wish to publicly thank Bobo and his friend for saving me from certain death. They are true heroes."

Bobo blushed amid scattered applause. Morons are so easy, Jon thought.

"I now have some wonderful news!" Jon paused for effect but soon realized they were too stupid to recognize suspense. "I was afraid to say this to my friends earlier; they are so strong and powerful I feared for my safety. Now I see that you are a peaceful and wise people, so I must tell you the truth: I am not a bug, but a man!" He expected awed gasps but was greeted instead with slack jaws and glazed eyes. These were the same morons, after all, that bought the talking bug story in the first place. He began removing his uniform, glad that he had not worn his valentine boxers. "My people live underground in caves, disguised as giant stink bugs."

"How come?" asked Bobo.

How could he answer truthfully? How could he tell them that, because of their own irresponsibility, the world's population of stupid people had exploded? How could he tell them that their wars and mob mentality had rendered the earth's surface a toxic wasteland? They would never understand that their kind had been too stupid to listen to the remaining handful of clear thinkers, forcing them to take it upon themselves to withdraw from society in order to rebuild it. Instead he said, "We were scared of you. But now I see you are kind and smart, and mean no harm to us cave dwellers."

"I hate caves," said Bobo.

"You would like our caves," Jon said, dangling his carefully prepared carrot. "We have lots of cool clean water, big fans that pull in fresh air, and plenty of delicious food!"

Finally, the reaction he wanted from these blockheads. "Food?" said Bobo. "What kind of food? Meat? Roots? How much?"

"All kinds, and all you can eat! Would you like to come back with me and have some? If you like it, I'll bet I can talk my leaders into making you a part of our civilization. A very intimate part." He hoped Commander Fallon was listening, and would get his meaning.

"You're nothin' but a lying bug!" the fat one yelled. "I say we kill him!"

"Kill the bug! Kill the bug!" They grabbed their whacking sticks and converged on Jon.

Even if his communicator was still transmitting, Jon knew he was on his own. Ethics protocol prevented anyone from initiating a direct confrontation, so the rescuers wouldn't even have left the caverns. Harming another human by one's own hand was strictly prohibited except in self defense. If he couldn't get himself out of this, he was dead.

"Bobo!" Jon whispered. "I need your help! Get me out of this and I'll make sure my people give you anything you want!"

"Even potatoes?"

"More than you could ever eat!"

"Okay." Then to the mob, "Settle down, everyone! We ought to go check this out. Don't forget, I'm the head guy. If you all don't do what I say, I'll kick every one of your butts. This here bug, or whatever he is, seems like a pretty good fellow. We're going."

"Great!" said Jon. "Say Bobo, my friend, might I borrow a set of clothing to wear on the way back?"

"I don't care."

When they arrived at air shaft seventeen-victor, there was nothing to indicate that they were expected. Suddenly a ladder appeared and dropped down.

"Welcome, friends!" Commander Fallon's voice boomed over a megaphone. They had monitored Jon's communicator after all. "Join us! We have prepared a sumptuous feast in your honor!"

"Huh?" said Bobo.

"They fixed a lot of food for you," Jon replied.

"Hot dang! Let's climb in and get after it!"

Jon and the commander led them deep into the caverns through a maze of cool passages to a banquet hall lit by phosphorescent green fungi. The morons had never seen such a spread of fine food. While they were eating, Jon outlined his plan to Commander Fallon. The veteran Perimeter Patrol officer nodded his approval. After an hour of burps, belches, and other ill-mannered bodily expulsions, the morons were satiated.

"What was all that stuff?" Bobo asked.

"The meat was bat," said Jon. "We have produced a breed of carnivorous bat that weighs seventy-five pounds when grown."

"Carni--what?"

"Carnivorous; meat eaters. Every night they fly topside to feed. This dish over here is made from mushrooms that grow deep in the caverns, and these vegetables were grown with a special kind of light thing." He felt disinclined to describe fiber optics technology to a bunch of bloated morons.

"Hey, wait a minute," said Bobo. "Did you say mushrooms? Ain't them poison? You're trying to kill us!" He jumped up, tipping the table over onto Jon and Commander Fallon. "Come on, everybody! Run for it!"

"Let them go, Jon," said the commander. "We can still make this work. Follow them, but not too closely. We must avoid a confrontation. Go ahead, I'll take care of the lighting."

"Yes, sir."

It wasn't hard for Jon to tail the fleeing morons. They made plenty of noise and never bothered to look back. They weren't accustomed to the low light levels, a fact Jon had counted on heavily.

"Follow me," Bobo said. "I see sunshine through that door there."

On they ran, only to find themselves in another maze of subterranean tunnels.

"There! More sunshine! Come on!" They ran and ran, through one hope for freedom after another, until finally coming to a stop. "This here's the shaft where we came in! See, there's the ladder! Let's get outta here!"

At the top they found themselves in yet another cave, this one with a natural exit leading up and at an angle from where they stood. "We can climb through that easy," said Bobo.

"Yes, you can," said Jon from below. It should only take a few minutes."

"Who--hey, what's that?" Bobo asked. "Sounds like a dang flood's fixing to come through here!"

"Remember those big bats I told you about? The ones that eat meat? They just woke up, and they're hungry. By the way, they like to use that tunnel you're in to get topside." Jon slammed the hatch against the sound of screaming morons mixed with that of flapping leathery wings.

"Part of this nutritious breakfast," he mused. "After all, I did promise to make them an intimate part of our civilization." Jon had always been a man of his word.

Copyright ©2011 Kerry Lee Anderson All Rights Reserved