Dean:  Tarzan

The rainforest darkness wrapped around him.  For some people, this kind of darkness would cause madness.  But for Dean, this was home.  

Dean grabbed onto a vine and jumped.  As the tree branch zoomed out of sight, Dean’s vine spun him downward and then back up until he let go with his other arm outstretched.  A second vine neatly filled the empty space of his palm as he continued to swing above the blanket of shrubs and rainforest bedding.  

His movements continued on for several miles.  Ahead loomed a thatch hut among the tops of the trees.  His own tree fort, he thought, as he landed on the deck surrounding his house.  A rather large gorilla lumbered at the doorway, watching Dean.

“Uoh uoh, uoooHHH!” the gorilla grunted to Dean.

“uOOH, uOOH, UUooH,” Dean answered back.  The gorilla turned and climbed back into the hut.

Of course he was hungry, Dean thought as he leaned onto the railing overlooking the vast wilderness.  What did that silly monkey think?

Years ago, Dean was a very successful businessman.  Fancy cars, huge mansions, and extravagant vacations were a part of his life.  But one vacation in particular changed everything.  On his way to an African safari the private jet he was on crashed into the lush jungle of Zaire.  Only he survived the crash.  But the crash was nothing compared to the next year.    He lived on a diet of roots and raw beetles, a life of half-hour naps and long distance runs from dangerous predators.  Eventually he was rescued.  But he had found that a part deep inside of him had changed.  He couldn’t go back to the incredible life he had once had.  So Dean left his fast cars and his lovely mansions.  He moved back to the Zaire, away from the modern world and into the world of the forgotten.  

As he could smell the aroma of roaches cooking over his firepit, he spied smoke lofting above the trees.  Smoke signals.  Dean quickly read the message aloud to himself.

“Mr. Byers,” he murmured.