Sunday, August 13, 2006

Bobby and I went to the Newport Agricultural Fair yesterday. It was an old-fashioned country fair, with contests for the biggest vegetable and all.

We met this taxidermist who had his work on display. Bobby builds banjos, and is in the midst of building one for a friend, so he wanted to find a thin skin to use to make the banjo. He’s ordered calf skin but wanted to check out more local options. He walked in to ask the guy about skins. I think the taxidermist said his name was John, or maybe Bill. He had only the pinky and ring fingers on his right hand. As he talked, he would flick them out to the side in a sort of nervous gesture, and then rest his face sideways on his hand and stare at you. After we’d expressed interest in his work and Bobby talked to him about buckskins (which Bobby said were too thick), he began asking us about all his pieces:

“See that bear?”

We assented.

“Does it look real?”

“Well, yeah, I’d say it does,” said Bobby congenially.

“That’s a new mouthpiece in there I’m using. It’s great work. You put it in there. I had to paint it, though, all the details. The mouth looks real?”

We nodded, staring at the wide snarling mouth of the bear in what we hoped looked like admiration. John or Bill flicked his two right-hand fingers toward two skinny bobcats on display on the wall and turned is head to the side. “See those two bobcats?” he asked, speaking to me.

“Yeah…,” I said.

“Do they look real?”

“Um, yep. They sure do.”

“Them rocks look real?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. They look…really real.”

John or Bill looked very pleased with himself. We entertained a quick conversation about the variation in the coat color of coyotes as we eased towards the door. As we neared the escape route, John or Bill bounded across the room and shook our hands, suggesting we return around 2 or 3 to see him mount a new buck. We finished the exiting formalities.

As we walked down the hallway of the old school, Bobby said, "Did that guy creep you out, or was it just me?"

"Yeah... yeah, he did."

"Well, he is a taxidermist..." Bobby observed.

We made our way out to the truck and left the fairgrounds behind.