The kids had been gone on the road for a month and a half, during which our team of lawyers and I had been stalling the lumber companies' legal actions. So once Adam had returned, after some quick hugs and kisses to Melly and Lissandra I accosted him with the NNP-related problems that had stacked up while they had been away. Riverside Lumber was being financed to front a movement to make the entire Nokhon Nation Project illegal and Un-American. We were scheduled for a hearing about that the very next week, taking place at the Municipal Court in Aberdeen. That was unhandy for us, requiring a long drive and perhaps even hotel reservations for several days, but the biggest disadvantage was that it put the proceedings into our opponent's home turf. So it was on the road again for Adam, this time to exotic far-away Aberdeen (Washington, not Scotland, a walloping distance of 120 miles). We had already prepared our case, but now we needed to prep Adam. We had several licensed lawyers on the NNP defense team, but we all agreed that our best strategy was for Adam to learn verbatim the law books relating to their case and be the official spokesman, since there would be press coverage and he was by far our most famous public figure. So the lawyers found the rulings and laws that Adam should know and then we simply read them aloud to him. Although Adam could not read, his Orator's talent to remember every word he hears was invaluable. It was long, dull, wearisome narration, but we all took turns doing it, although poor Adam had to endure every second of the listening. But it paid off: once he had heard the laws he knew them and could rattle them off, sounding quite expert. We were all then impressed with his ability to cross-reference and extrapolate new formulations of "if this = therefore that". It was a tour-de-force of verbal intelligence. I had suggested that Adam actually study law and take the bar exam, but "maybe later" was as close as Adam would agree to that plan. He was only interested in keeping the Nokhon Nation Project afloat, not a career in law. It was snowing lightly when we left Monroe, but that cleared up into a cold but bright day. We drove the official NNP van; Adam, myself and two of our staff lawyers-- Carl Hessan, 40, who was married with two kids; and Phillip Jameson, 32 and single. It might have been more practical to take the band's tour bus, considering Adam's usual problems with hotel rooms and human-sized beds, but we were trying to put on a respectable front and a rock band bus would have offered the opposition one more chance to present us as unserious barbarians. Melly and Lissandra had (reluctantly) offered to come with us and help, but even though both were up to speed on the case we deemed it best to let them help online from our Monroe Office, since we all knew that their physical presence would provoke the usual accusations of sexual impropriety and immorality, since the lumber cartel was fond of creating smokescreens of smarmy innuendo rather than any actual legalities.
We pulled into town from the Olympic Highway, passing Grey's Harbor and crossing over the Chehalis River Bridge, past the "Welcome to Aberdeen--come as you are" sign (the first of many references to the once-local rock band Nirvana). East Wishkah Street proved to be an endless one-way strip of chain stores, fast food and gas stations, the usual Starbucks and McDonald's to establish that we were still in America. The only unique establishment we passed was a Star Wars shop. The Courthouse was easy to find, just one block over on East Market Street, but it was only a bit over 11:00 PM and we were not due there before 1:00, so we drove around town to kill some time and get the lay of the land. Carl was the only one of us who had been in Aberdeen before, having been a Nirvana fan on the trail of Kurt Cobain, who had been the biggest media star the town could boast of, but that had been almost 20 years ago and he'd never been back since. Aberdeen is a medium-sized city between the forest and the sea, surrounded by nature; a blend of small-town cozy and economic semi-slum. It is still a lumber town, although most of the timber had by now been cut and many of the lumber mills had already closed down in the 70's and 80's. The fishing industry was now the mainstay, that and harbor business--containers and cars from Asia-- and some tourism, mostly because of the town's one and only celebrity, Kurt Cobain Himself. It was a cold and dark day, some snow still on the ground, all kinds of bleakness in the sky above us. Phil, who generally expresses critical opinions, commented that the town looked pretty awful. Adam was more generous: "Probably no better or worse than Monroe," he said. I was more interested in the Courthouse than the town. At least Carl was charmed by the waterfront and riverside aspect-- and, of course, his own youthful memories; "Hey, while we're driving around, we may as well go check out the Kurt Cobain Memorial Park. It's pretty much the only tourist attraction in Aberdeen and not far from here." But we decided that we didn't have time for that just then if we wanted to eat lunch before going to the Courthouse, so we stopped at a drive-in burger bar instead. It was easier than dealing with the commotion that gets caused by Adam walking into a public restaurant-- it was bad enough when he was just Monroe's only civilized Bigfoot, but now he's also a world-famous rock star. Adam wasn't eating anything anyway, wrinkling his delicate Nokhon nose at the meaty smell of burgers and fries. But the rest of us were glad to eat just about any kind of junk food before going to court for several hours, a gourmet meal was not required.
As expected, there was a crowd waiting at the Court house, a few hundred citizens, some police and TV media; word had gotten out that Adam Leroy Forest would be showing up. Mostly enthusiastic young people, mostly Squatch & Friends fans, but also a few less-friendly unemployed lumber-mill folk hoping that the hearings could somehow revive their local industry, although none of them actually dared to challenge Adam on the street once they'd seen how big he was up close. The TV news people were much more aggressive, pushing in to ask Adam questions, although they were more interested in his status as a rock star than about the hearings. "Adam Leroy Forest, are you planning to visit the Kurt Cobain Monument while here in Aberdeen? And if so, as a fellow singer-songwriter or as a changing of the guard for pop music?" Adam answered: "Uh… sure, we can discuss that stuff later if we have time, but right now I'm more concerned with the business of these hearings." They continued trying to ask him if he was a Nirvana fan and which songs he liked best, all of which was obviously very important to the local journalists, but we managed to squeeze past and into the building before any coherent interview could be had. A couple of cops politely kept them from following us inside. The Aberdeen Municipal Court is inside a modern two-story building which it shares with City Hall. It was easy enough to find our way around. Our meeting was scheduled in the main conference room rather than a courtroom, since this was not the trial, but a hearing. The presiding judge was Hon. T.W. Tenson. The plaintiff, the Riverside Lumber Company, was already gathered when we arrived. They were a hefty crowd: "Pa" Walter Willard and two of his three sons, dressed in their small-town Sunday best, backed up by a team of eight expensively suited lawyers from Holtz Lumber Corporation. Their argument was that we-- the Nokhon Nation Project --were unfairly depriving the little lumber company of their God-given right to clear-cut the last few remaining trees in the almost-stripped nearby hills. Even though those particular hills were within the Red Cedar National Forest, and the land had already been under legal protection by Forestry Conservation laws for years before we came along. But the lumber companies were insisting that the newest legislation-- designated Ruling SB16 --had opened a new can of worms. Ruling SB16 granted NNP's appeal to establish Nokhons an official right to live in the protected forests-- where they had always lived anyway, the only difference being that now they had a forum to address any complaints of unrestrained encroachments by civilization. Which, of course, would include by default any deforestation that lumber companies might do. This ruling only protected National Forests and virgin areas, so there was still plenty of lumber out there for the wood industry, although not those few big trees still remaining in the uncut forests. But it seems to have become a principle for the lumber industry that they get to have it ALL. We had already been through several hearings with these people at the King County Courthouse in Seattle, which had mostly been to our advantage. Especially due to the scandal of their legal team being masterminded by the big fat bad man, Jebediah R. Murgatroid himself, who had been responsible for Adam being kidnapped at the age of 5. But since Murgatroid had not yet been officially convicted of kidnapping due to lack of evidence, Holtz Lumber retained him on their staff as a red flag to wave in our faces. There was more hostility between them and us than any real matters of substance to be discussed, and since Holtz Lumber could afford the legal fees, they wouldn't stop appealing the case until they had won. It did not seem to matter to them that they really had no case at all. The Willard family was present as a symbol to the local lumber industry, which had fallen on hard times, but it was soon obvious that they would not be trusted to speak by their cadre of litigators. Their statement was made by Gerald Loath, the big burly appropriately-named lawyer who took lead for the Holtz team. He did seem to loath us. "Representing the interests of Riverside Lumber, who are being unfairly hindered from their means of livelihood, as is the entire American Lumber Industry, we contend that the heavy-handed closure of State forests has been unfairly awarded to the so-called Nokhon Nation Project solely due to the current fame and commercial success of their pop-star front figure, this Singing Sasquatch. It was a silly populist decision and should be revoked." Adam was our spokesperson, standing very tall in his suit and tie, looking more or less human, except that he was standing so much taller than anyone else in the conference room. A court photographer took pictures. As usual Adam was eloquent: "The SB16 decision was made by experienced judges of the Court of Washington after much deliberation, and concerned the existence of an entire race of people indigenous to this state finally being allowed to live undisturbed. It seems our opponent's word "silly" refers to the decision made by those judges, who had evidently been swayed and swooning in awe of my fabulous musical career. I would like to make note that their attitude reveals naked disrespect for those judges, for me, and for the entire Nokhon race." Within the next hour nothing new was introduced by either side, it seemed a perfect waste of time. Even more so when the judge said, "It might be prudent for this assemblage to inspect the facilities of Riverside Lumber together as a group to get a clear picture of what we are discussing. So let us adjourn until tomorrow, when a bus will be provided at noon in front of this building and we can visit the lumber yard itself." We groaned silently, having hoped to resolve things immediately and drive home again, although we had been warned that it might drag out. But it would do no good to complain and alienate the judge. In fact, we soon learned that it was all a set-up: the judge was deliberately stalling us so that the Aberdeen Chamber of Commerce could get their hands on Adam. When the hearing was over the Mayor of Aberdeen was already waiting for us, since the Court House was also City Hall, so his office was right next door. Mayor Jeb Shelton is an impressively large man in his late forties, a few inches under 7 ft tall, barrel-chested and beefy, so he was amused to meet Adam, who stood over a foot taller and weighed twice as much, making him feel like a little guy for the first time since he was a kid. Mayor Shelton was obviously politically adept and in touch with the mechanics of PR and hype, introducing himself and inviting the four of us for dinner as Guests of the City to "Aberdeen's finest restaurant", where we could discuss a few public relations opportunities while we were visiting. Of course, we had to accept, as if we could get out of it under those conditions. Oh well, free dinner anyway, so okay. Outside the building the crowd had mostly dispersed: the press had been assured that they would get their shot later, so only a few die-hard S&F fans remained, since it actually pretty cold and windy. Adam took pity on them and stopped to chat, signed a few autographs with his now-famous "Big Foot Doodle" (since he couldn't actually write his name).
It was still early in the day, not quite 3:00 o'clock. Fortunately we had already booked a hotel online so all we had to do was find it, which was easy to do, right on W. Market Street, just a few blocks west from the Courthouse. It seemed pretty cozy and clean. Phil and Carl shared a room, as did Adam and I. Adam would be sleeping on the floor, since the beds were too short, narrow and flimsy for a Bigfoot. The hotel personnel was horrified that such a famous guest as Adam Leroy Forest was going to sleep on their floor, but Adam asked them if they would just remove one of the beds and leave the mattress so that he could have more floor space and they jumped to it, glad to do what they could to make him more comfortable. A mattress on the floor is what he's used to at home. They were probably also glad to have rescued one of their beds from being smashed flat. Adam and I set up Skype on the laptop and called home. We hadn't been gone even a day but it was still nice to see all those beautiful faces filling up the screen; Melly and Liss, Masnia and Elaine, blowing us kisses over Skype. Both Adam and I are still in wonder at how our love lives have worked out. I'm even more in wonder at what good friends he and I have become again, considering our history. We were to meet Mayor Shelton at 7:00 PM. He'd offered to send a limousine, but Adam was too big to squeeze into any standard car and the restaurant was only a few blocks away, so we said we'd walk over. The Mayor thought that was a good idea and said he'd like to join us. So he met us at the hotel and led the way, giving us a private tour of local history along the way. He was quite eager to talk with Adam and admitted to being a S&F fan and a Bigfoot enthusiast in general. He also warned us that this dinner was being paid for by the Aberdeen Chamber of Commerce, who hoped to somehow link Adam's name and fame to Aberdeen for a lift in public interest and tourist business, so we knew what to expect. For example, a small crowd of city officials waiting to greet us, accompanied by a politely select few journalists. The ceremonies were brief; a photographer took pictures of us shaking hands with the town's local dignitaries. Since Aberdeen's most famous personage had been Kurt Cobain, and Adam was also now considered a "fellow pop star", it seemed only logical for them to arrange an official visit to the Riverside Memorial Park the next morning for a photo-op, which we agreed to do. We were then free of the journalists and allowed to attend our meal in the company of the mayor and his very nice wife, Veronica. The restaurant was itself a fairly pedestrian looking eatery, there are probably no super-glamorous 5-star Michelin establishments anywhere near the town of Aberdeen. Mayor Shelton apologized for that, but did boast that a French chef would be making dinner. Adam had hoped his hosts had done some research into Nokhon diet and were not inviting us for big bloody steaks or spare ribs, which he would then be required-- out of politeness --to eat before an audience and in front of cameras. Not that Adam is a strict vegetarian; he does eat meat once in a while; but in small doses, as in a hamburger or a taco or a spaghetti sauce, but almost never big thick chunks of it. He was pleasantly surprised to be offered a very delicate vegetarian meal of grilled eggplant and braised cabbage prepared by the only French chef in town. We all were, it was excellent! We had a pleasant evening; Jeb Shelton was a jolly guy with lots of local stories to tell. He and his wife, like most Washingtonians, had followed the highly publicized life of Monroe's Baby Bigfoot over the last 20 years, and they were both excited about meeting the most famous Nokhon in the world. The Mayor was especially well informed and interested in the politics of the Nokhon Nation Project and understood what the Lumber cartel was trying to do in the current hearings. "It's what they always do," he said, "constantly trying to get cutting access to the National Parks and the few virgin forests still remaining. City Hall isn't necessarily on their side in the debate about how much more forest they can strip away, even though some of our citizens are hoping the local lumber industry can make a comeback. They'd just plunder the last few trees and we'd be in the same situation next year..." "...except that all our trees would be gone by then," his wife added, "so they'd have to move on anyway." Veronica Shelton was more interested in culture than politics, as any Mayor's wife should be. She was aware of Adam's recent success as a pop star, but had not focused in on his music before today, since her own musical tastes tended to be more in the classical direction. "But when my husband informed me that I'd be meeting the world-famous Adam Leroy Forest himself for dinner that evening, I did some quick research on Google and YouTube so that I could at least carry on a polite conversation." She admitted that she'd been especially impressed by videos from last year's Paramount Northwest concert and was now a brand-new S&F fan. The rest of us, she'd never heard of, but that's the way it goes when you're out with a Star. "You've probably noticed," she said, "that this town is going for all the tourist mileage it can get out of our one and only media star?" "Yes, we've noticed," Adam responded. "So are you a Cobain fan?" the Mayor asked. "Not really. Not that I dislike his music, I've just never tuned in to it. The only song I half-way recognize would be Teen Spirit, otherwise I've got no opinion." "I suppose Nirvana was before your time," the Mayor said, offering an easy way out. "Yes, well, but so was Elvis. And Mozart," Adam said with a polite nod to the Mayor's cultural wife, who smiled and nodded, "We all have different favorites. I'm more interested in old Rogers & Hammerstein musicals than most modern pop music. I've only recently discovered who Taylor Swift is." Victoria asked, "Who?" but Jeb looked amused at his so-far-out-of-touch wife, then shrugged, "So how about grunge in general?" he asked. "Generally not impressed; too noisy, harsh, disharmonic. Not my style." . "Well, I liked grunge when I was younger," Phil contributed, "I still do, kinda." "And I'm still a Nirvana fan," Carl interjected. "We all tend to favor the same music we liked when we were young," I philosophized, "I'm still a Dylan fan. And the Beatles." "But we can also learn to like new music," the Mayor's wife declared, "just as I've quite come to appreciate Adam's songs. In fact, I plan to buy a Squatch & Friends CD tomorrow so I can play it non-stop." "Ka-ching!" Adam said, "Another big sale for S&F!" Everyone laughed. "Oh, Adam, I wish you were from Aberdeen instead of Kurt Cobain," Victoria said, "who is actually an embarrassment for this city: drug addict, etc." "Plus he hated Aberdeen vociferously and moved to Seattle," the Mayor admitted. "You probably don't hate Monroe." "No, I like Monroe. The town's been good to me." "And you've been good for them; they must get lots of tourism because of you," the Mayor suggested. "Yeah, some. But actually, we try to discourage busses full of tourists from dropping in on where we live, and the Monroe Chamber of Commerce has been pretty good about protecting us from that kind of inconvenience. For example, they do not license any official charter tours of our hacienda, "home of the Ex-Baby Bigfoot", even though there has been a demand for it." "Even more so after the unprecedented success of Squatch & Friends," I added, "and all the publicity about the Nokhon Nation Project. The kids have also done some free concerts for the State Fair, which gets a lot of attention and goodwill. So yes, the town does get its share of PR in media coverage, most of it positive." "And since there are often a few Nokhons acclimating to our culture by walking around Monroe," Adam added, "tourists are thrilled to see them. But that's not something we've organized, although the Monroe Chamber of Commerce would like to do so-- they've suggested opening a Nokhon Nation Information Center right downtown, where some squatches could earn money by being available for a Meet-the-Local-Sasquatch show." "They probably could," the Mayor enthused. "Sure, but so far, none of them are really interested in money-- it's a confusing concept to them. And they would need to speak better English if they plan to meet tourists." "Seems that some of them do," Veronica, noted, "I was very impressed by that young girl-- Masnia? --she already speaks just like an American teen-ager!" "She also speaks fluent Spanish now," Adam boasted for her, "and is working on Japanese." "Oh, we're all impressed by Masnia," I said, "but she has an extreme affinity for languages and is not your average Nokhon. Most of them struggle with me Tarzan, you Jane." We had a pleasant evening, neither too late, nor too much partying--although both Carl and Phil did enjoy their share of free drinks, a trap into which both Adam and I were far too mature and clever to fall. Anyway, we all retired to our hotel well before midnight. But Adam did not go directly to sleep; he felt he should prepare for the morning's interview so that he wouldn't seem like a cultural nincompoop. "We know they're going to ask me how I feel about Kurt Cobain," he said, "so I'd better form an opinion." We turned on the laptop and went directly to YouTube, where you can find just about all the commercial music in the world. Since Adam can't write Carl programmed a sequence of Cobain/Nirvana songs for him to listen to, just as Victoria Shelton had done to research his own S&F songs.
The next morning we were scheduled to meet with the Mayor and local journalists at 10:00 am, for a photo-op ceremony at the Kurt Cobain Memorial. It wasn't far away, so we had time for breakfast at the nearby Denny's Restaurant. Selected because there was a high ceiling. There was the usual commotion about Adam coming into the place, but by now he'd been seen around town several times and people were getting used to him, almost like in Monroe. By now everyone knew he was here for the hearings. A waitress looked worried about Adam sitting on one of their chairs but he politely nudged it aside and simply squatted beside the table as he usually does. Carl and Phil ordered the pancakes and I went for sausage and eggs. Adam took only an orange juice, although he'd said he was pretty hungry. "Aren't you going to eat anything? You're a growing boy," Carl said, amused at his own understatement. "Actually, I try to keep my weight down to about 535," Adam said, "and everything here is processed fat and sugar. I get tired of that stuff pretty fast. I may just have to go out into the woods and get some real food." "What does that mean-- are you going to catch and eat a deer, or something?" Phil asked. "Or maybe a Grizzly?" Carl expanded the concept, as a joke, of course. Carl and Phil were capable lawyers with whom we had a good rapport, but not yet in the necessarily limited circle of those who knew all the messy details about the Nokhon way of life. For example, neither of them had ever had access to The Document, nor did they know about the kha-rats, so I explained, "Squatches are vegetarians, eat mostly nettles and thistles." "Wow, that sounds appetizing," Phil said with some sarcasm. "Appetizing food kills you," Adam announced, "makes you eat for pleasure instead of need. No, I'm not a purist-- I eat for pleasure too, can't help it; I was raised as a White Man on Oreo Cookies. But it can't be my steady diet, I'd just get fat." "Well, you look like the healthiest guy I've ever seen," Carl commented. "Actually, you should see Uncle Wallace-- he's a regular human but has been living on squatch food for most of his life, now over 110 years old, and he's off on an expedition in the Himalaya Mountains." "Your Uncle?" "Actually Art's great-uncle, his grandfather's brother, but we all call him Uncle Wallace." Adam downed his juice and said he'd meet us at the court house, went out the door to find some tasty bushes.
An Aberdeen School Bus picked us up at 9:45 to drive us out to Riverside Park, where the Mayor and his wife, two photographers and several journalists awaited us. The Cobain monument itself was located on a small triangular plot of land beside a dilapidated old bridge crossing the Wishka River. The grassy yard was soggy with a thin layer of snow. Fog was in the air, a cold grey dismal day. The monument itself was pretty humble: an ugly cement statue of a guitar, a plaque with a few quotes from Kurt Himself, a bench to sit on etched with signatures of fans who'd been there, a symbolically empty rack for "Kurt's Air Guitar". A sluggish, lazy river. The underside of the bridge, where the myth says that he lived for a while, was painted with graffiti: "Nirvana", hearts, peace-signs, "Teen Spirit", more messages from fans. The photographers were only interested in pictures of Adam and the Mayor standing in front of the cement guitar, shaking hands, the rest of us were simply in the way. A journalist from Aberdeen's Daily World, a grizzled old guy like me, simply had to ask: "So Adam, are you a Kurt Cobain fan?" Adam had prepared for that question by listening to the first two Nirvana albums, Nevermind and In Utero plus a smattering of other songs, until he'd felt he knew enough to answer that question. Especially since he did not wish to hear any more. But neither did he wish to say a clear "No," considering where we were. But Adam can't lie, so he said: "I have only recently become acquainted with his music, sometimes you have to hear something new a few times before you can really appreciate it." "But as a song writer yourself, surely you must recognize the power of his lyrics?" "Power in them? Well, yes, definitely. But the message they convey is bleak: inviting depression, schizophrenic confusion. They WERE written on heroin. The guy DID commit suicide, you know, after feeling like a misfit all his life. But really, I don't want to judge him or his music --he had lots of fans, somebody must have liked what he had to say." I suppose that none of this was what the journalists had hoped to be able to quote. They were not enjoying this interview, perhaps even embarrassed about Aberdeen’s junkie rock star. But Adam is an Orator, a performer. "Although really, I've had Teen Spirit running through my head ever since I started paying attention to Cobain's music. It's his own Teen Spirit..." He paused. At that moment I saw an expression pass over his face, as if he was experiencing something-- a Sha-haka shaman magic something, not to be sensed by any of us standard-issue White Men. "...a spirit undone," he finished and did not say more. The journalists had to take that as an end to the interview. We took the arranged bus back to City Hall, where we picked up the Holtz lawyers, drove out to the Riverside Lumber Company and resumed the hearings from the day before. Under way I asked Adam a question about that moment at the Cobain Monument: "Considering how you're a fellow musician-singer-songwriter, and a bit of a shaman-- I had the impression that you picked up some vibes from ol' Kurt's spirit?" Adam looked at me curiously, so I explained, "I mean, I myself have once met the spirit of your mother, which seemed pretty real at the time --so I'd chance a guess that you've had one of those experiences?" "Maybe I did," Adam reflected, "dark stuff... felt like a warning." "Warning about what?" We all had to ask. "It's not clear..." Adam said quite seriously, "...not to follow his path, I'd guess." "Well, let's hope not, otherwise he'd be an evil spirit seducing people to suicide," I reasoned, considering Cobain's personal history. "And we don't need one of those haunting us," Carl insisted. "You know, it suddenly feels really creepy here," Phil announced. There were "yeahs" of agreement. The day had turned dark and there was snow in the air again, so it had a very lonely feel to it.
We met up with the crowd at noon in front of the City Hall, as arranged. With us and the opposing lawyers and a few county officials we were about 15 people. It was a short ride, taking less than 10 minutes; we could easily have walked it. But it was all a political game, we were aware of that. The Riverside Lumber Company was a well-weathered collection of old sheds and barns perched upon a little square of well-worn tarmac beside the Wishka River. Dilapidated is the best description. There were three ancient logging trucks parked, only one of which still functioned. The only new & shining machine on the place was the big logging truck Holtz Lumber was loaning Riverside. The company looked as if already Out Of Business, with only a few sporadic boards and panels in the lumber bins. The Willard men, Walter and his three sons, were waiting for us. One of the buildings was their family home, a well-weathered old 2-story wooden house. We all greeted with a polite hello. Their "Pa" was businesslike, trying to be impersonal rather than unfriendly, but the boys seemed somewhat embarrassed about the legal battle. But as in the courthouse, they had nothing to say, the lawyers did all the talking. "As you can see," Holtz's leading lawyer Kensington began, "Riverside Lumber has come upon hard times..." He went on to insist that this was primarily due to the advent of the NNP and exacerbated by the unfairness of Ruling SB16. As anyone could also see, those hard times had been going on long before the NNP had come along, not even a year ago. Some of the machines were thoroughly rusted from not having been used in years, the buildings unpainted for even longer. The entire lumber yard was a shambled ruin. I was tempted to speak up-- as were our young lawyers Carl and Phil-- but we had agreed that Adam would be our spokesperson. But first, a young girl came out of the house, the sister Gloria, sixteen years old. She was dressed in second-hand clothes, but did not act like she was poor or humble at all. She went directly to Adam, holding a DVD cover in her hand, easily recognized as the S&F Live Concert Album. "Could you... would you autograph this?" she asked Adam politely, but apparently not especially intimidated by his size. He smiled at her and said, "Sure-- have you got something to write with?" She offered him a felt-tip pen and the DVD cover. Adam drew his "big foot logo". Then the middle son, Lee, about 17, broke ranks and asked, "Hey, me too? If I go get my copy?" His eyes were wide with fandom. "Okay, why not?" Adam said to him. But Lee's Pa said, "Hey, let's not lose track of what we're doin’ here, this ain't no social party. You just stay right there with your brothers." Adam nodded to Lee, "You're father's right, tend to business first. I'll sign it later, ok?" Lee nodded back, "Yeah, okay. Uh... sorry about all this legal stuff." Adam gave him an understanding smile, "Man's gotta do..." Then he also nodded to include the other two stressed-looking brothers, Dave and Sonny, so they all broke out in grins of relief. Obviously S&F fans, one and all. The Holtz Lumber lawyers were irritated over this thawing of hostilities and were aiming scowls at "Pa" Walter to get his kids back in line. Pa aimed a scowl or two back at them: it seemed he was becoming equally irritated with being under their thumbs for the sake of this legal game. Adam spoke directly to Walter, "Mister Willard, can you tell us just what you need to feel that have been treated fairly?" "All legal discussions are to go through US," Kensington insisted, "our client is not..." "Silence!" Adam said sharply, with an Orator's edge. Kensington was amazed to hear himself being silent. In fact, everyone had shut up: lawyers, judges, even me. "Walter, it's your turn to speak," Adam announced and waited politely for the owner of Riverside Lumber Company to finally say something. Walter looked confused about what he could/should do or say, and then finally understood that the lawyers who had been browbeating him were suddenly unable to restrain him due to the authority of Adam's command. Pa Willard smiled and nodded. Chuckled even. "Yeaaah, well... I figure Holtz Lumber will be taking their fancy truck and stuff back now, but I still don't understand what beef I should be having with those Bigfoots. I mean, what does it have to do with me? Seems that the Sasquatches have always been living on US National Forest land without bothering anybody, and I've certainly never seen them on my land." The case could have fallen apart then and there. Walter Willard was to have sworn a deposition that he and family had suffered economically due to Ruling SB16, but he simply wouldn't do it. His kids cheered him, although cautiously-- it was clear that they dreaded Holtz Lumber because it had some economic grip on them, holding them for ransom. Everyone on the scene understood, including the judge, who asked: "Mister Willard, it sounds as if you are withdrawing your complaint against the NNP. Is that right? Because if so we can just as well shut these hearings down now." "No," Kensington protested, "the case is not being withdrawn! Riverside Lumber will continue litigating against..." "Excuse me," His Honor T.W. Tenson uttered, "I am asking the plaintiff himself a question, not his lawyers or representatives. You may not interrupt him." Walter Willard rubbed his hand over his face, looked at the new truck Holtz was lending him and said, "Ah... no. No, we are not withdrawing our case." He did not sound enthusiastic. But Kensington gave a jolly little hop: he still had a job.
As the crowd was getting on the bus back into town Willard's daughter Gloria approached Adam, "Okay if I ask you something?" "Sure," Adam said, going down on one knee before her to put their heads at the same level, giving her a friendly smile --she was a fan after all-- "go ahead and ask." "Not here," she insisted and walked away so that he would follow her. When he hesitated she came back and took his hand, which was twice the size of hers, and led him off to the side of a barn. She would have led him around the corner, but he stopped her there and assumed a rather formal posture. Facing her directly, hands behind his back, like a school teacher. They spoke in private over there. The Holtz legal team turned and watched them with ferocious interest. So did I, knowing how those lawyers would love to catch Adam in any sort of impropriety with any under aged girl, but Adam knew that as well and had not allowed her to lead him completely out of sight. They talked, just far enough away not to be overheard. Then Adam seemed to ask her a question and she responded as if surprised, perhaps offended, and shouted: "What? NO!" The Holz team became even more interested, hoping for some drama. But Adam and Gloria finished talking on a calm-- even friendly --note and Adam came back to us, while Gloria watched him go. Two of the Holtz lawyers started immediately walking towards her, but she obviously understood what they wanted, turned and ran around the barn. At least they were too dignified to run after her.
Later I asked Adam about his conversation with Willard's daughter. "She wanted to know if one of the girls in the band was my girl friend, so I told her that I loved them all equally, without going into detail." That was his standard interview answer, but also the literal truth, which was always potentially dangerous. "I hope you also told her that the romantic mystery is all part of S&F's marketing strategy." I was kidding, of course, I knew he couldn't lie. "Apparently she was most interested in knowing if I liked Melly best-- in other words, a blonde human girl something like herself." "Another groupie wanna-be?" Adam had been getting a lot of that from very young girls, which we considered problematic enough, but especially while standing within earshot of Holtz' army of lawyers. They who were desperate to accuse Adam of anything they could dream up. "Well yeah, she was obviously getting up her courage to suggest that. So I explained how those lawyers standing over there, looking our way with such interest, were desperately hoping that I'd compromise myself with an under-aged girl so that they could twist their case. She kept saying 'But I won't tell!' so I had to ruthlessly ask if Holtz Lumber was paying her to seduce me, which she denied emphatically..." "Right," I commented, "we all heard her shouting NO. The Holz guys did get kind of excited about that." "Yeah, I'll bet. Anyway, Gloria didn't smell like she was lying, but that ended the flirtation, fortunately." "You know they're going to talk to her. And if she's pissed off at you..." "Oh, she's not: I said she could look me up after she's 18, which she took as an encouragement rather than a rejection. I figure she'll be over the idol-worship by then." "And if not," I had to laugh, "you can just invite her to a kha-rat."
The bus was ready to take us back to the Courthouse by 2:00 in the afternoon, a ten-minute drive, but we would not be reconvening until 4:00, so we had time to waste (it was all a waste as far as we were concerned). It was snowing at that time, so we needed to go somewhere. We spent an hour at the Star Wars Shop, reputedly one of Aberdeen’s major tourist attractions, which was mildly entertaining. Not that any of us were dedicated Star Wars fans-- that would be Art, who HAD suggested that we check it out while in Aberdeen-- but it was more amusing than visiting the Kurt Cobain Memorial again and it was indoors. There were Star Wars books & comics, Jedi costumes, funny masks, light sabers, silly memorabilia: anything we needed. Of course the staff had to make Wookie jokes when Adam came in. At 4:00 we returned to the Courthouse for the final hour of our hearing. The judge wanted more time (probably weeks) to "deliberate" so there was no decision being made today. The waste of time was going to drag on, perhaps as a never-ending dispute. It was 6:00pm by the time we were done, but at least we could go home now. Except that it began to snow rather heavily and night was falling, so we decided to stay another night at the hotel rather than risk driving all the way to Monroe under those conditions. Also because Mayor Shelton had invited us to a much less formal night out on the town, featuring more free food & drinks compliments of the Chamber of Commerce. He also assured us that the town's snowplows would be cleaning up the roads in the morning, just to assure us that his town wasn't really trying to kidnap Adam. We ended up in a wonderfully sleazy bar with a crowd of locals: fishermen and lumberjacks, students and businessmen, men and women, young and old; it was actually quite entertaining. Of course, the music system was playing the Squatch & Friends Live in Concert album at full volume. People were dancing, including an also-much-less-formal Mayor's Wife Victoria in cowboy shirt and jeans (she looked sexy all hot and sweaty, I couldn't help imagining her at a kha-rat). At one point Adam was requested to perform a song. He didn't have a guitar with him, but one of the students did-- a S&F fan who played a pretty good accompaniment to "I Like To Run" as Adam belted it out. That went quite well. Later the stereo was belting out music from Nirvana, just to remind us of where we were. People were dancing to that too, and singing along, it was obviously quite popular. Everyone was bouncing to Feels Like Teen Spirit and feeling quite jolly. Victoria Shelton jumped Adam to give him a hug (I think our boy had another groupie wanna-be on his hands). "So can you endure hearing Kurt Cobain's music?" she asked. "Actually, it's not that bad, kinda grows on you," Adam admitted, then broke into the chorus: "Entertain us..."
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