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"It's an old saying," says Jimmy. "It means you're on the edge. Plus, you may get your nuts sliced off." He's limping more visibly now.
"Is your foot all right?" Toby asks. No answer: he stumps doggedly onward. "Maybe you should go back," she says.
"No fucking way," says Jimmy.
The street ahead is blocked by the rubble from a partially fallen condo. There's been a fire in it - most likely caused by an electrical short, says Zeb, who has halted the march while the scouts reconnoitre a detour. The smell of burning is still in the air. The Pigoons don't like it: several of them snort.
Jimmy sits down on the ground.
"What?" says Zeb to Toby.
"His foot again," says Toby. "Or something."
"So, we need to send him back to the Spa."
"He won't go," says Toby.
Jimmy's five Pigoons are snuffling at him, but from a respectful distance. One of them moves forward to sniff his foot. Now two of them nudge him, one on either arm.
"Get away!" says Jimmy. "What do they want?"
"Blackbeard, please," says Toby, beckoning him over. He huddles with the Pigoons. There's a silent interchange, followed by a few notes of music.
"Snowman-the-Jimmy must ride," says Blackbeard. "They say his ..." There's a word Toby can't decipher, that sounds like a grunt and a rumble. "They say that part of him is strong. In the middle he is strong, but his feet are weak. They will carry him."
One of the Pigoons steps forward, not the fattest. She lowers herself beside Jimmy.
"They want me to do what?" says Jimmy.
"Please, Oh Snowman-the-Jimmy," says Blackbeard. "They say you must lie down on the back and hold on to the ears. Two others will go beside you to keep you from falling off."
"This is dumb," says Jimmy. "I'll slide off!"
"That's your only option," says Zeb. "Catch a ride, or else you stay here."
Once Jimmy is in position, Zeb says, "Got any of that rope? It might help a bit."
Jimmy is tied onto the Pigoon like a parcel, and they all set off once more. "So, its name is Dancer, or Prancer, or what?" says Jimmy. "Think I should pat it?"
"Please, Oh Snowman-the-Jimmy, thank you," says Blackbeard. "The Pig Ones are telling me that a scratching behind the ears is a good thing."
When reciting the story in later years, Toby liked to say that the Pigoon carrying Snowman-the-Jimmy flew like the wind. It was the sort of thing that should be said of a fallen comrade-in-arms, and especially one that performed such an important service - a service that resulted, not incidentally, in the saving of Toby's own life. For if Snowman-the-Jimmy had not been transported by the Pigoon, would Toby be sitting here among them tonight, wearing the red hat and telling them this story? No, she would not. She would be composting under an elderberry bush, and assuming a different form. A very different form indeed, she would think to herself privately.
So, in her story, the Pigoon in question flew like the wind.
The telling was complicated by the fact that Toby could not pronounce the flying Pigoon's name in any way that resembled the grunt-heavy original. But nobody in the Craker audience seemed to mind, though they laughed at her a little. The children made up a game in which one of them played the heroic Pigoon flying like the wind, wearing a determined expression, and a smaller one played Snowman-the-Jimmy, also with a determined expression, clinging to its back.
Her back. The Pigoons were not objects. She had to get that right. It was only respectful.
At the time, things are somewhat different. The progress of the Jimmy-porting Pigoon is lumpy, and its back is rounded and slippery. Jimmy bumps up and down, and is in danger of sliding off, first on one side, then on the other. When this happens the flanking Pigoons give him a sharp upward nudge with their snouts, under the armpits, which causes him to yell maniacally because it tickles.
"For fuck's sake, can't you get him to shut up?" says Zeb. "We might as well be playing the bagpipes."
"He can't help it," says Toby. "It's a reflex."
"If I bonk him on the head, that'll be a reflex too," says Zeb.
"They probably know we're coming," says Toby. "They may have seen the scouts."
