I was stringing up laundry in the backyard when I saw him
standing at the edge of the woods, naked as you please, the only thing giving
him some shred of decency being the thigh length rat’s nest of hair hanging
over his shoulders.
Nan used to warn me about naked woodsmen, telling me “run if
you see ‘em girl cause they’ll do you a goodly bit of mischief and no Christian
woman needs that on her conscience.” But really, I’d always thought she was a
little senile if not totally full of shit and besides, I wasn’t a Christian woman,
so I went on hanging the laundry and keeping one eye on him.
Wild-animal timid, he’d creep close and pull back, watching
me, until I ran out of laundry. I sat down on the stoop to see what he’d do and
that’s when he struck, lunging into my $70 Northern Nights sheets and snapping
my clothes line; I screamed and threw an empty planter at him. When he leapt
out of the tangled clothes line and shot for the woods, he had my husband’s Day-Glo Incredible Hulk boxer shorts in his hand.
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