Short Short Story #3 1/2

 “Doggone” said Tarzan, truncating an elaborate 

adventure into two words. His bruised and battered

body begged for more explanation, but none was

forthcoming. 

In either hand, he held a severed head by the hair.

This unsettling fact gave more urgency to the curiosity,

but Tarzan remained unmoved.

He was Tarzan! You couldn’t argue with him because 

his vocabulary was not that great. However, if you 

could understand what he said, you could trust he was

telling the truth. Tarzan never learned to lie.

So, the dog was gone. Everyone knew about the dog,

but no one thought it was that important. It was to

Tarzan. He was partial to animals.

All anyone could guess from Tarzan’s statement 

was that the situation was under control, that 

Tarzan had handled things. That’s all they ever

got from him. King Kong could be rampaging

through the jungle…they’d just send Tarzan out,

and, in a little while, everything would be quiet.

Tarzan would return, usually unscratched, and be

very hungry. Everyone accepted this in the jungle;

the people and the animals. Everything was fine

until Jane arrived.