Today, as I was sitting with Edwin, we heard what I thought was distant thunder on a sunny morning. Edwin corrected my thinking explaining the noise was not thunder, but the voices of wild men. Intrigued, I pursued the subject.
“Wild men” are not men like us, but something between a man and a spirit. They are usually hidden, but can be seen on occasion. Edwin has seen some wild men one time by the river. They live in houses, grow food and have babies like us, but it is all hidden–we cannot see their gardens or houses. They can die of old age, but not from sickness or injury. Some old timers know how to summon the wild men, which they did in days of yore to help fight their enemies. The wild men also killed new-comers.
There is one man living in our area with the wild-men-summoning know-how. In the last election (about five years ago) he summoned the wild men who all came down to cast their vote for the eventual winner. Now, with the advent of law, police and elected officials, the wild men live peacefully. Maybe all they wanted was a voice–the political kind, not the thunder kind.