The Ape Man's Brother by Joe R. Lansdale Page A

swifter. It had less of a crew than when we first rode in it, and it was, according to Dr. Rice, a trustworthy crew. The zeppelin was stuffed with food and water and even a few barrels of beer and a stocked wine closet. There were two biplanes as well, one on either side of the wheelhouse. They were held by clamps that could be worked from the open cockpit of the planes to release them. There were a number of guns on board. There were some trade goods. The Big Guy had tried to discourage this aspect, trading with the natives, as he had seen what civilization could do to us (I, as I said, liked it. He didn’t), but Dr. Rice was determined that if he was going to lose The Big Guy and his daughter as well—for he knew the score and wanted her to be happy—he demanded an opportunity to work among my people, explore the island, bring back native items, write about his experiences, but not give away its location.
    By the time we were four days out I couldn’t shake a feeling of doom. Perhaps it was because I knew I was not staying with The Big Guy, and The Woman was going with him, and I was going back to civilization. Fact was, I had already started to crave it, yet, still I hated to leave them. I loved them both.
    On the fifth morning the sky darkened. It began to rain and the zeppelin began to jump. I was airsick until late afternoon when the darkness split and the sunlight sliced in and the rain died out. I went to the huge storage room for some bicarbonate of soda to settle my stomach, and while there I saw that some of the food goods had been broken into. A lid on a crate near the back had been lifted and replaced awkwardly, and a wax paper container of crackers was missing from the box. I also noticed that the tins of sardines had been disturbed, many of them strewn about on the floor. I didn’t think much of this at the time, as it seemed to me that it was likely one of the crew members that had broken into the goods; far as I was concerned they were welcome to it. I found the bicarbonate of soda, and on my way out I sniffed the air, recognized human urine. Some years back I would have thought nothing of someone pissing wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted, but now this bothered me. Had it only been a bit of the food, I could have stood that, but pissing on the floor? I had become too sophisticated for that.
    Angrily, I straightened the askew wine rack on my way out by pushing it with my shoulder, not giving much thought to it being out of place, and determined I would bring these doings to the attention of Dr. Rice. By the time I left the storage room and went to my cabin to put the bicarbonate of soda in a water glass, my anger had subsided. I even considered that The Big Guy might have done it. Gone down there and to get some food and mark his spot. He was still a savage. Years back, I could have sniffed that urine and known who it belonged to, but now my nose was cultured, and all I knew was someone had taken a leak in the storage room. I decided to forget it. I was beginning to be as fussy as an old lady, and I was a little ashamed of myself.
    For the next few days the weather was fair. We came to a place in the ocean where a huge mist hung in the air like a veil. A bit of excitement stirred within me then, for this was the world from which I had come, a huge island, or continent—I actually have no idea how large our world really is—clothed in fog produced by the volcanic humidity that warmed our lost world. And even though I liked New York City, I did suffer more than a bit of nostalgia at that moment.
    The zeppelin dipped into the mist; everything was a white cloud. Then the zeppelin dropped down even more and the mist thinned. Below there were high, slick, flat gray walls of rock that rose up to incredible heights. As we slipped over the top of that wall there were more clouds. We descended into them slowly. They broke, and what we saw then was mine and The Big Guy’s fine green world. Windows were