Warpaint

“I’m not your type? What’s dat mean?” Bodo sounded offended now.



“You’re too … I don’t know. Big. And loud.”



“Ah, yes. But big is sexy. Just ask Bryn.”



I shook my head. “Whatever. Tell him your secret, big guy.”



Bodo put his plate down and gave us a double bicep flex. “Try to tell me dat’s not da good stuff right dare.” He looked at one arm and then the other, smiling to himself. “I do one hundred pushups every day for dat.” He dropped his arms down in front, crossed them over his abdomen, and flexed again, looking like one of those professional wrestler guys trying to get the crowds screaming at his awesomeness.



“Like I said. Too big,” said Peter in a carelessly casual tone, designed to make Bodo crazy.



Bodo’s face fell and his arms sagged down, so I patted him on the shoulder. “I think they’re really nice, Bodo. Keep doing the pushups.”



“I don’t feel like telling my secret now.” He picked up his plate and shoved a hunk of meat in his mouth.



“Fine,” sighed Peter. “Your muscles are deliciously awesome. Can you tell me now?”



“You really like dem?”



“Yep,” said Peter, totally deadpan. “Best I’ve ever seen. I nearly swoon every time you come near me with them. No. Stop. Don’t flex again. I might pass out.”



Bodo sat there, frozen. I could see he was trying to figure out if he were being mocked, so I did what I had to do to stop the nonsense.



I burst out with, “Bodo has a big bird.”



Peter raised an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it these days? A bird?” he turned to Bodo. “I’m so happy for you both.”



I slapped Peter on the arm. “No, idiot. Not his … well, his … whatever. I’m talking about a real bird. Like a big ass bird.”



“Dat’s my secret, Bryn. You are not supposed to tell.”



“You were just about to. I just helped. I’m allowed to do that, since I’m … we’re … god, this is stupid.” I shook my head, at a loss for what to call us.



“When you say bird, do you mean the animal that has wings and flies over our heads?”



“Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.” I nodded, grateful to Peter for moving us past what was quickly becoming an uncomfortable moment for me.



“So what … ? Bodo has a parrot or something?”



I giggled. “Not exactly.”



“No, it’s not a parrot. Don’t be ridiculous. My hawk can eat a parrot in da middle of da sky.”



“You have a hawk?” Peter sat back a little bit before shaking his head. “No sir. Huh-uh. No way. You do not have a hawk as a pet.”



“Yes, I do. But not really a pet. More like a partner.”



“No, you don’t.”



Bodo frowned. “Yes, I do. Tell him, Bryn.”



“He does. I’ve seen it.”



Peter shook his head. “No. You two are messing with me, I know it. I’m not that gullible.”



Bodo stood up, putting his plate on the top of the shelves. “Come on, den. Let’s go.”



Peter looked up at him. “Go where? Into the swamp like you did with Bryn earlier? No thanks.”



Peter had no time to react before Bodo had grabbed him under the arms and lifted him like a toddler, standing him on his feet.



“Ack!” Peter squeaked, slapping at Bodo’s hands. “Get off me, you neanderthal! Unhand my person!”



I laughed uncontrollably. “Unhand my person?” I gasped out. “Who says that outside of a high school theater play?” I took some deep breaths to try and calm myself while Bodo stepped back and Peter brushed imaginary cooties off his shoulders, arms, and chest.



“People who are being manhandled by cavemen, that’s who.”



“Come on,” said Bodo, leaving the hut. “Time to meet Nina.”



I followed closely behind, yelling over my shoulder. “Come on, Peter. He’s not kidding. You really have to see this. Bring Buster and his leash.”



“I’m not sure if havingk Buster dare is a good idea. My hawk might be hungry.”



I looked at him askance. “You’d better make sure your hawk doesn’t touch a single piece of fuzz on Buster’s little body or I’ll pull her stupid wings off.”



“Don’t even choke like dat, Bryn.”



“I’m not joking. I will vote your hawk off the island before I vote Buster off.”



“Dare’s no need to vote anybody off. She and Buster can work togedder.”



“How’s that?” I asked, noticing that Peter was following us. He was normally one of the noisiest walkers in the entire swamp, but it definitely didn’t help that he was mumbling cuss words and slapping himself every five seconds as the mosquitoes descended. They loved his tender skin.



“Lots of falconers use ferrets with da hawks to hunt. Maybe Buster can be my ferret.”



“How does that work? Seems like ferrets would be on the menu for a hawk like yours.”



“Da hawk learns dat with the ferret going into holes and scaring out da little furry animals for hiss dinner, he can chust be friends. If he eats da ferret, dat’s chust one meal. If he doesn’t eat da ferret, it’s lots of mealss. It’s a very easy math for her.”



“Hawks that do math. And I thought I was stupid before.”



“Don’t worry. Many people underestimate da value of da hawk. I triedt to explain to my old friends, dat dey didn’t need to hunt for anything. We could do it all with da hawks. But dey didn’t listen. Dey chust saw a big tanksgiving turkey on my arm.”



“That’s so sad,” I said. And I meant it. “People can be so short-sighted sometimes.”



“Yes. Dey can. But not me. I see da long vision. Dat’s why I’m with you.”



That one had me flummoxed. I couldn’t figure out what the heck he was talking about. Peter had caught up to us, and before I could ask for clarification, he chimed in.



“Smart move. Me too.”



“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.



Peter shrugged, talking without emotion. “You’re strong, fit, positive, mentally healthy. Beautiful. Bodo would be stupid to let you go. Girls like you will be the beginning of a new human race. I would be stupid to let you go because you can protect me and make sure I stay fed and sheltered. You’re a nice person like that. You feel responsible for those weaker than you.”



“You’re not weak, Peter.”



“Not emotionally. Not all the time. But physically, yes, I am. Let’s not lie to each other.”



I looked his twiggy arms that were about as big around as my wrists. “Okay, so you’re a little on the puny side. But that’s not the only strength that counts out here in this wacky world.”



“I know. That’s another reason we need to stick together. I can help you keep your head on straight and so can Bodo.”



“You guys afraid I’m going to go crazy on you?”



“Well, you could. Sometimes you’re wound as tight as a spring. But Bodo’s pretty good at picking fights with you when you’re too wound up, and when that doesn’t work I shame you into being fair. It’s a little sad, admittedly, but it works for us.”



I shook my head, realizing that pretty much everything he said was true, even if I didn’t agree with the me being beautiful part. “We are the epitome of a dysfunctional family.” I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or sad.



“Nah,” disagreed Peter. “We are the new definition of family. And we function just fine as far as I’m concerned.”



I thought about it for a second before saying, “Me too.” I slung my arm over Peter’s shoulders in easy friendship, deciding not to let my weirdness ruin what I thought was meant to be a happy time for us. His bones pressed into my flesh. “Wow, you are boney.”



He shrugged me off. “Shut up. Where’s this bird, anyway?” he said louder, trying to catch Bodo’s attention.



“Chust a little farther. Keep your shoes on.”



Peter whispered to me. “Where does he get this stuff, anyway? Isn’t it pants? Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?”



“Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important. Maybe it’s a German thing.”



“You know, Chermans can hear very good. You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.”



“We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter.



I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.



“Is dat like a fucktart?”



“What?” asked Peter, half choking.



“Fucktart. Dat’s a new word I learned today. Isn’t it a good one?”



“I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart. It’s fucktard. And you were right before. It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.”



“I didn’t say fucktart. Dat was you. You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today. Or moron. She likes dat one, too. I think it means boy I luff.”



“Wow. You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head. “Seriously. You fight to lighten the mood. You call each other names …”



“And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.”



“Shut up, Bodo!”



“You do? Ew. That’s a public shower, you know.”



“We do not take showers together.”



“Yesss weeee doooo … ”



“One time! Okay? One time. And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.”



“I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.



“Pfft. Over my dead body,” I mumbled.



“Challenge issued, Bodo,” said Peter.



“Challenge accepted!” said Bodo, laughing loudly.



Jerks.



We reached the clearing where I’d found Bodo before, and he pulled his harmonica from his pocket, blowing out a few notes before I had time to dispute his challenge accepted nonsense.



I heard the screech before I saw it.



Peter grabbed my arm and his eyes grew wide. “What the hell was that?”



“It’s Nina,” I said, bemused by his obvious fear.



“What is it? A friggin pterodactyl?”



I laughed. “Just look.” I pointed to the small, brown dot in the sky that was getting bigger and bigger every second.



“Holy shit,” said Peter in a breathy voice.



“Yeah. Pretty amazing, right?”



I looked over at Bodo. He’d pulled the leather strap out of his pants and was busy wrapping it around his hand and forearm.



“What’s he doing?” whispered Peter.



“Getting read to make a landing pad for the hawk.”



Bodo held up his arm, blowing once more on the harmonica before putting it back in his pocket. He took something else out and held it in his hand.



“What’s he holding?”



“A hunk of meat. Better grab Buster before he gets eaten.” I was only half kidding.



Peter moved with a flash, bending down and scooping the poodle up into his arms. “Shhhh, Buster. Do not bark. I don’t want that beast pecking Bodo’s eyes out and then coming after us.”



I hated to admit that even though I trusted Bodo’s expertise, I also worried about the eye-pecking thing. I would think from a hawk’s perspective that they looked really appetizing - so juicy and all.



“Stay back for chust a minute,” said Bodo. “Let me settle her first.”



The hawk came swooping down, her wings spread wide and tipped up at the ends. Her body rocked slightly back and forth, just before her talons reached out and gripped Bodo’s arm. She folded her wings back in and took a couple of small steps left and right, flexing her talons and flicking her head left and right quickly.