PRIVATE OTHERLIVES

“Four gory years ago our anthropologists brought forth, amid incontinence, a new nation, conceived of Liberty – the taxidermist from the village – and dedicated to the proposition that all grave-robbers are equally weird.

Now we are engaged – me and Liberty – in nightly and uncivil conflict, testing whether that nation, or even our union, can long endure.

We are met on the great battle-field of the wardrobe, wherefrom I pounce unto her willing bones –”

“Dad!”

“Wow, TMI, dude.”

Bonnie had clapped her hands over the youngest’s ears. “Jimmy’s only five for pity’s sake.”

The father adjusted his posture on the stone and raised a finger.

“We have come to masticate a portion of yon field –” he began again. Just then mother Skinwalker swept into the clearing, blood still dripping from the hide of her latest victim which hadn’t quite fused around her hips. She raised an eyebrow at her husband before nodding to the children.

“Well?” she said.

“He’s been hitting the peyote again, Ma,” Declan offered.

“I only had –”

She gave him a quick stare. The eyebrow fell. She picked it up and slapped it on again.

“Don’t tell me,” Liberty sighed, self-consciously adjusting the wayward lips. “The Gettysburg Undress? Same ol' rubbish he made up for his stag-do?”

PRIVATE OTHERLIVES

Jimmy was bouncing up and down, making it difficult for Bonnie to keep a grip.

“That’s right, Ma. I wasn’t paying heed and he’d got to the wardrobe bit before–”

“I get it. You can let go Jimmy’s ears now. They don’t grow on trees, you know.”

“Oh … right …”

“And off to bed the three of you. I see tomorrow’s breakfast has been put in the larder.”

“It was squealing and squealing and squealing.” Jimmy clapped his hand delightedly. “I hit it with a rock until it went quiet. Then Declan stuffed in there.”

“Yes dear, I see it. Very good … Now why are you all still here.”

Sullenly, they oozed up their respective trees to the safety of their beds.

“As for you, Missing Link ... c'mon.”

She grabbed his antler.