WAITING FOR MOMO   Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the
country ...  WAITING FOR MOMOby Katrina Bowen "So this is Nodaway. It
looks like a very nice town," Ben said optimistically. Silence greeted
him, an oppressive silence that had been unbroken all during the long
drive from the county airport. He went on, "You know, I've always wondered
about the correct pronunciation of 'Missouri'. Is it Missouree or
Missouruh? The authorities differ, I've been told." "Who cares?" Ray
parked the rental car and finally looked at Ben. "Well, I imagine it would
make quite a significant difference to the inhabitants, Ray. It's only a
matter of etiquette to pronounce the state's name correctly." "Yeah? I
don't plan on being here long enough to have to call it anything." Ray
sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Look, Benny. I'm using up my vacation
time here in the middle of nowhere. At least the wolf got to stay in
Chicago. What's more, I'm doing it for one of my least favorite -- no, let
me correct myself. For the person I dislike more than anyone I've ever met
in my entire life; for a person who has caused me nothing but misery and
grief and heartache." "I know Ian MacDonald has been -- well, troublesome
in the past. But other than that, I don't know what you hold against him."
"My gun to his head might be nice." The idea seemed to cheer Ray up
considerably. "Or a bazooka. How 'bout a cannon?" "Now, Ray. There's no
need for that." "It wasn't your car that got blown up, was it?" "I don't
have a car to blow up." "Okay. What if he'd blown up Diefenbaker?" Ben
looked momentarily appalled. After a few seconds, he said, "You might have
a point at that." He took a deep breath. "But the fact remains, he asked
for our help. His letter said he was in this area hunting for something
called momos, and he stumbled across -- well, he wasn't very specific
about what he stumbled across. He was very firm, though, on needing our
help." Ray scowled. "Ian wasn't very specific on a lot of things. I mean,
what the hell are momos, anyway? Some kind of local big game?" "I have to
admit, Ray, I'm completely unfamiliar with the name. Perhaps it's a local
dialect word for a more common animal -- but I don't think anything is in
season at this time of the year." Ben shook his head sadly. "I've been
meaning to research indigineous wildlife, but I got interrupted after the
New England states." "What a shame." Ray finally opened the car door and
got out, grabbing the directions he'd written down at the airport. "Let's
get this over with. I got the address of the hotel he was staying at, but
I'm going over to the local police station first. If we're lucky, he was
arrested for something and we can just go home and let him rot here in
Mayberry." "That's 'Nodaway,' Ray." "Like there's a difference. You
coming?" Ben looked around the town square. "That seems to be a library
over there. Perhaps while you talk to the local police, I'll try to find
out what momos are." "Great. I'll meet you there in about an hour." Ray
walked toward the police station, shaking his head. Benny could find a
library in the middle of a desert.
**************************************************************************
** Ben sat in the library's reading room, a stack of books in front of
him. The librarian he had initially asked for assistance had been absorbed
in a thick book on the American Civil War, and he didn't seem very intent
on helping anyone. Ben finally decided to look for himself. He'd found
several books detailing the range of wildlife to be found in the area, as
well as a fairly old one on Missouri dialect, but he had so far found no
reference to "momos." He walked out of the reading room and over to the
reference desk. A young woman with curly dark hair and a round, impish
face looked up. "Hi, there! Can I help you?" "I hope so, Miss --" he
looked at the nameplate on her desk "--Karamitros." She waved a hand. "Oh,
just call me Violet. Everyone round here does." She smiled brightly at
Ben, but her manner was more friendly than flirtatious. "Who are you?"
"Oh, excuse me. Benton Fraser." They shook hands. "I received a letter
from a friend of mine who was passing through -- he said he was hunting
for momos, but I haven't been able to find out what that is ..." He
trailed off uncertainly as Violet started chuckling. "You're probably
looking in the wrong books. And you should be over in Pike County -- I
don't think there were ever any momo sightings around here in Nodaway."
She stopped laughing, but couldn't shake her smile. "You know, I went over
there on a momo hunt when I was in college in Columbia." "Really?" She
didn't seem like a hunter to Ben, although he'd learned it was unwise to
jump to conclusions. "What kind of hunting equipment did you use?" "I dug
one of my granddaddy's antique bear traps out of the cellar. Most
everybody else just had those big butterfly nets, though. And we brought
lots of beer along for bait." She grinned reminiscently. "There we were,
wandering around the woods, yelling 'Here, Momo! Come and get it!' Damn,
we had fun. I lost the bear trap, you know," she added offhandedly. "Never
saw Granddaddy so mad. He was faunching around the house for a week." Ben
paused, alerted to a new word to expand his vocabulary. "How, exactly,
does one go about 'faunching'?" "Well, it's hard to explain. One of those
things you have to see to understand." "I see." "No, you don't." Violet
was still grinning, but she was starting to look sympathetic. "You're
right, I don't think I do." Ben glanced to the door as it opened; he
raised his arm to catch Ray's attention. Violet rose and smiled at Ray as
Ben introduced them. He asked Ray, "Did you find out anything at the
police station?" "Nah. They haven't seen or heard anything about Ian. You
find out anything about momos?" He looked curiously at Violet as she
started to laugh again. "No, but I think we're about to be told all about
them." Violet went over to the circulation desk and returned in a few
moments. "Tommy says he can take any reference questions that come up.
Come on back to the archive room -- we can talk better there." She led the
two men through a door into a room crowded with gray boxes stacked high on
shelves. A row of filing cabinets completely took up one wall; a
sophisticated computer setup occupied the wall next to it. Violet
indicated a work table cluttered with papers. "Just shove those in a pile
-- it'll be a couple weeks before I get a chance to sort them, anyway."
She started gathering files from the cabinets, then walked across the room
to pull a box off one of the shelves. Coming back, she said, "You know,
you and this guy -- Ian? -- well, either you're all gonna have a good
laugh over this, or you're gonna kill him." They all sat down. "I wanted
to kill him to begin with," Ray said darkly. "Well, then I guess a good
laugh is out of the question." Violet folded her hands in front of her and
adopted a slightly lecturing voice. "It all began back in 1972. No one
really agrees how the whole thing got rolling, but somehow, people started
reporting seeing something strange in the woods. Some folks saw dancing
lights, but most reported seeing --" She opened one of the folders and
took out a yellowed newspaper clipping. "Here it is. Some folks on a
picnic roared into town in a panic, saying they'd seen a huge, shambling
ape man out in the woods. Then two kids said they saw a hairy, seven foot
tall creature carrying a dead dog. Reports differ on what kind of dog it
was. Anyway, the local papers started calling the whatever-it-was the
Missouri Monster, which was shortened to Momo." She patted the pile of
pile of folders. "This here is all the information we have on it, if you'd
like to read it." Ben and Ray just sat and stared at her. Undaunted,
Violet continued. "Things got pretty wacky after that. The story made the
tabloids, and they got a lot of weirdos hanging around for a while. Then
reports started tapering off. Now it's just a local joke. No concrete
evidence was ever found of anything out of the ordinary being out there --
personally, I think the whole thing was one-half mass hysteria, one-half
sheer boredom. Not much to keep people occupied in these parts, after
all." Ray finally found his voice. Coldly he asked, "Could you please
repeat that?" Violet propped her chin on her fist and looked at him. "I
could, but I don't think you'd like it any better the second time." "Oh
dear." Ben risked a quick look at Ray, and sincerely wished he hadn't. "I
assume there are no longer any sightings?" "Sure there are." Violet
shrugged her shoulders. "Just not from anybody sane, serious or sober."
Ray stood up stiffly. He leaned his hands on the table for a few moments,
then said in a cold, deliberate voice, "I am going -- to wait -- in the
car." He turned and left, muttering under his breath and slamming the door
behind him. Violet and Ben looked at each other. Finally, Violet pointed
to the still- vibrating door and calmly said, "Now *that's* faunching."
"Oh dear." "You got that right." Violet looked at Ben. "You guys honestly
had no idea what was going on, did you?" "No." Ben considered how to
phrase himself. "Let's just say that Ian MacDonald has caused Ray a lot of
... misery, grief and heartache. He's taking this much better than I
expected, though." "Think his mood would improve if we fed him?" Ben
contemplated that for a few moments. "It might be worth a try." "Come on.
Town's not big enough for him to have gotten far." She led Ben back out
into the main room. She called to the man at the desk, "I'm taking the
afternoon off, Tommy. Could you punch me out?" Tommy, still reading his
book, just waved to her. On their way out, Violet said, "Sorry about
Tommy. He's on a real Civil War kick lately." They found Ray right outside
sitting on a bench, arms folded in front of him, glowering at the light
flow of traffic around the square. Violet bent her head to look him in the
eyes. "Feel like lunch? Ruby's down the street is pretty good." Ray
wouldn't look at her or Ben. "I don't know. Am I gonna get jumped by
leprechauns or mermaids or something?" he asked balefully. Violet shook
her head seriously. "Wrong time of year for leprechauns. And we're too far
inland for mermaids." Finally Ray looked up. He still wasn't smiling, but
he had lost the murderous expression he had worn inside the library. He
told Ben, "You realize that this time I *have* to kill Ian, don't you? I
mean, this time I think I've earned the right." "Yes, well, let's discuss
that after lunch, shall we, Ray?"
**************************************************************************
** Ruby's was a small cafe several blocks from the library. As Ben held
the door for her, Violet said, "I eat lunch here most days. Too bad it's
not Monday -- they usually have great gumbo on Mondays." There were only
about a dozen customers there; most of them nodded casually to Violet, and
eyed Ben and Ray with polite disinterest. Violet went over to a plump,
motherly-looking woman standing by the cash register. "Hi, Ruby. Okay if
we take the booth in the corner?" "Oh, you go right ahead, sweetheart.
Jenny will be out in a minute to take your order -- " "Do you have veal
paprikash today?" Violet broke in eagerly. "Sure do, Violet." Ruby looked
over at Ray and Ben. "That okay with you fellas?" "That would be fine,
ma'am," Ben said. Ray shrugged indifferently. "Sure, why not?" "Thanks,
Ruby." Violet led them to the booth. "You know, I'm not sure if this Ian
guy was serious about Momo or not --" "Well, it can be extremely difficult
to be sure when Ian is serious about anything," Ben said diplomatically.
Ray just snorted. "Sounds like it. But there have been a lot of
out-of-towners around lately, and no one knows what they're here for.
Hunting season doesn't really get geared up until fall, and the county
fair isn't for months yet. And frankly, none of them really look like
tourists -- not that we get many of those, anyway. Hardly any women, and
no kids." She leaned back as a teenage girl brought out their orders. She
stood gaping at Ben for several seconds, until Violet reached out and
grabbed the plate that started to slide off her tray. "Thank you, Jenny, "
Violet said tolerantly. Jenny blushed, and leaned over to whisper
something in Violet's ear. Violet whispered back, and Jenny went back to
the kitchen, peering over her shoulder all the way. "What was that about?"
Ray asked as he took a bite of his veal. "Hey, this *is* pretty good."
"Told you it would be. And you're better off not asking about Jenny." She
took a drink of her coffee and continued. "Anyway, no one can agree on
what's going on. Some folks think it's some kind of militia group, and
others think it's an illegal fireworks operation." "Fireworks?" Ben asked
quizzically. "Sure. They're legal in Missouri, but illegal in most
surrounding states. There's a big trade in smuggling them for the Fourth
of July." Violet waved her fork around for emphasis. "But that doesn't
really pick up until the middle or end of June, and it wouldn't account
for the number of strangers passing through." "How extremely odd." Ben put
down his fork. "What are the statistics for violent crime in this area?"
"Depends on who you ask." Violet took a bite of veal before she went on.
"Compared to Chicago, it's practically nonexistant. But people here are
nervous, just like anyplace else. We have break-ins, some vandalism, and I
suppose domestic violence is right up there with the rest of the country.
I guess it's all a matter of perspective." "So you're saying you can't
think of anything illegal that Ian would have fallen into?" Violet turned
to Ray and shook her head regretfully. "Afraid not. I hate to say this,
but if he was really stupid or crazy enough to believe in Momo, then he
could have been wrong about finding any criminal activity." "Perhaps he
was ..." But Ben didn't sound convinced. "I think we should go to his
hotel room, Ray. There might be something there." Ray glared at Ben. "Do
you mind if we finish lunch first, Benny?" "Oh, by all means," Ben said
hastily.
**************************************************************************
**** The desk clerk was initially reluctant to let them into Ian's room,
but Violet eventually talked him into it. Ray got the feeling that there
was some sort of minor blackmail involved, but if there was, it was too
subtle to put his finger on. Ray smiled to himself as he followed the
clerk, Ben and Violet up the stairs; he hadn't been sure about enlisting a
local, but this woman was turning into a definite asset. "Here it is." The
desk clerk used his key to open the door. "He's been gone for a while now
-- who's going to settle the bill?" "Looks like he left all his stuff
here. If he doesn't show up, just confiscate everything and sell it after
a few days," Violet said casually. Satisfied, the clerk left. "Is that
fair to Ian?" Ben looked disturbed, and both Ray and Violet gave him
matching expressions of disbelief. "Benny, if all Ian loses is his
*stuff*, he's getting off easy," Ray said firmly. "Or I could just kill
him, like I wanted to originally," he added hopefully. "I hope that won't
be necessary, Ray." Ben started looking through Ian's things, carefully
lifting and replacing each item. Violet joined Ray by the window. "So
what's the story on this Ian? Is he really as much as a menace as you're
making him out to be?" she quietly asked. Ray stared down at the street.
"Well, there was the time he made me blow up my car. And there was the
thing with the UFOs and the army base he talked us into invading. You
don't want to know," he added as Violet started to ask a question.
"Uh-huh." Violet paused. "So why are you here to help him?" Sighing, Ray
jerked his head toward Ben, who was now kneeling in front of the dresser.
"Believe me, it wasn't my idea." He would have gone on, but Violet's
horrified stare stopped him. "Oh, that. He sniffs everything -- you get
used to it after a while." "But shoes? Eeuuuww." Violet shuddered. "Oh,
you think shoes are bad? You've never been down in a sewer with him." "Now
that's a story I'd *really* rather not hear." Ben walked over to the
window, still carrying the shoe. "Excuse me, Violet. Could you tell me
where there would be limestone deposits in the area?" "Well, there's a
series of abandoned quarries about two miles south of town. Some of the
pits have been filled in with water -- lots of kids hang out down there."
"Ah." Ben nodded his head, satisfied. "That might also account for the
traces of clay on the sole." "You think that's where Ian is?" Ray took the
shoe and looked at it blankly. "More precisely, I think it's where Ian
*was* -- at some point, he must have come back to town to change his shoes
and mail his letter to me." Ray gave Ben a long-suffering look. He'd had
many opportunities to perfect it. "And now you want to go out there to
snoop around. Fine. Why not?" He tossed the shoe on the bed. "Maybe we
*should* have brought Dief along. At least he'd have a good time out
there." Violet ran to catch up as Ray and Ben left the room. "Who's Dief?"
"Oh, Diefenbaker is my wolf. He stayed in Chicago to spend some time with
his family." "Family of *what*?" Violet demanded. "Baby wolves. What
else?" "Of course. I see," Violet said faintly.
**************************************************************************
*** "You know, Violet, you could have just given us directions." Ray
extended a hand to help her; she took it and gracefully clambered over the
fallen tree. "I told you there wasn't much around here to keep folks
occupied, didn't I? You guys are probably the best time I'll have all
summer." They joined Ben in a small clearing; the Mountie was kneeling on
the ground, closely examining the packed earth. "This is extremely
peculiar," he murmured to no one in particular. "I hate it when you say
that, Benny." Ben stood and dusted off his hands. "Sorry, Ray. But I'm
afraid 'peculiar' is the most accurate way to describe the situation."
"What are you talking about?" Violet put her hands on her knees and bent
over, trying to make sense of the ground. "Just looks like a bunch of
footprints to me." "It's not the presence of the footprints that's
peculiar -- it's the footprints themselves." Ben knelt again; reluctantly,
Ray also hunkered down. "Do you see the pattern of nails on the soles?
These shoes -- and the variety of sizes would indicate the presence of at
least six men, with many more leading off to the pits -- were made in a
way not used for the last hundred years or so. Possibly longer," he added
helpfully. "Benny, if you're suggesting ghosts or something --" Violet's
groan cut Ray off. She sat down on the fallen tree, rubbing her eyes.
"Well, boys, I think I've just solved your mystery, and it's not ghosts."
She stood up abruptly, looking both exasperated and amused. "Come on --
we're going back to the library."
**************************************************************************
*** "Okay, Tommy." Violet glared menacingly at the librarian. "Suppose you
tell me and the nice men here what you and your friends were doing out by
the pits?" Tommy looked up from his book, innocent as a lamb. "What pits?"
Ray shook his head in pity. "Pal, that's nowhere close to being a good
evasion." "True. If you had said 'I don't know what you're talking about,'
it might have been somewhat convincing. But it doesn't make any sense that
a local resident wouldn't know exactly what pits Violet was referring --"
Violet put her hand on his sleeve. "Ben. Let me handle this, okay?" She
turned back to Tommy. "I don't know what you're talking about." Violet
closed her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten. "Tommy, if you don't
'fess up right this minute, I'm going to tell these nice men -- and what
small part of the town doesn't already know -- how you got your eyebrows
burned off at Magna's Christmas party last year." Tommy sighed. "Okay. You
know how bad tourism is around here. So me and some of the guys are trying
to get a Civil War re-enactment together for this fall. We've been
rehearsing out there for a while now." For a few moments, Violet just
opened and closed her mouth like a fish in the bottom of a boat. Finally
she said, "Tommy, there *were* no battles anywhere near here!" "You think
I don't know that? We're going to do the battle of Wilson's Creek." "That
was way at the other end of the state, south of Springfield, you moron!"
"That doesn't mean we can't do it here," Tommy said stubbornly. "Excuse
me," Ben broke in. "But isn't it probable that there already is a re-
enactment of Wilson's Creek near the site of the actual conflict?" "You
can't copyright a battle. If we want to do it, we can ..." But Tommy was
looking a little less sure of himself. Ray had finally had enough. "I
don't care about Wilson or his creek or copyrights. What I want to know
is, why would Ian think he saw Momo down there?" "Momo? Some idiot
actually believes in Momo?" Tommy looked at the three of them curiously.
"Oh, you mean that Canadian guy who was here a couple weeks ago?" He
shrugged. "Thought he was nuts. All I can think of is, he ran into Arnold
Ziffel in the woods. Arnie's starting a beard, and, well, he *was* pretty
hairy to begin with." Violet rolled her eyes. "Good night, Tommy." She led
Ray and Ben back outside. The three of them stood in the late afternoon
sunshine, not speaking. After a minute or so, she said, "You know, I've
read all the Sherlock Holmes stories twice. And I never remember Sherlock
feeling like this after solving the mystery." Ben and Ray just nodded
dejectedly. After another minute, Violet said, "Ruby's for supper?" "Why
not?" They started walking down the street. As they passed the hotel, the
clerk came running out to stop them. "Which one of you guys is Benton
Fraser?" Ben stepped forward, and the clerk held out a letter. "This came
for you. Guess this MacDonald isn't coming back, so can I still sell his
stuff?" "Check with the police chief first." Disgruntled, the clerk went
back into the hotel. Violet stood on tiptoe to try to read the letter.
"What's he got to say for himself?" Ray looked as if he didn't dare ask.
Ben finished the letter, then looked at the envelope. "It's postmarked
from Patterson, New Jersey ..." He read part of the letter again;
perplexed, he looked from Violet to Ray. "Has either of you ever heard of
something called the Jersey Devil?" "Give me that!" Ray grabbed the
letter, tore it up, and threw it in a garbage can. He looked into Ben's
startled face and said clearly, "No. I have never heard of the Jersey
Devil. And neither have you." He started walking again. "Supper better be
as good as lunch was," he called behind him. Laughing, Violet took Ben's
arm and pulled him along. "Come on. Let Ian take care of his own mess for
a change." "I suppose you're right. After all, I don't think we want Ray
to start faunching again, do we?" ****************************** AUTHOR'S
NOTE: The details about the great Momo scare of `72 are accurate, and can
be found in most books dealing with unexplained phenomena in the Midwest;
I used _Unexplained_ by Jerome Clark for background. As to the truth or
untruth of the reports -- frankly, I agree with the opinion expressed by
Violet. There is no town in Missouri called "Nodaway," although it is the
name of a county, and my town (and the people in it) is completely
imaginary. I chose the name only because, well, -- "Nodaway" is one of the
best place names I've ever heard. And "faunching" is a real word. -- kb
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Katrina
Bowen -- kbowen@willowtree.com "A fellow can get used to anything, I
suppose." "Yeah. I once ate a woodchuck!" -MST3K
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
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