“Yes, sir. Yes, you could say that.”

“And then what happened?”

“I saw this … we, I should say. Saw this… woman, walking toward us.”

“Walking in the park towards you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And?”

“Well… it was the… weirdest thing I ever saw in my life. Sir.”

“Yeah, ok, so… you say she’s tall this chick. Like, freakishly tall, is what you’ve said, right? But what’s that? Can you elaborate? Seven foot? Seven-six?”

“More.”

“Eight?”

“Sir, Ian’s slightly shorter than me. When he stood before her, she was at least… three times his height, sir. I don’t know. Really the strangest... thing I ever saw.”

“So what? Nine feet? No one’s ever been nine feet. Not even Wadlow was that tall.”

“Sir… pardon me? But I... I, ah… said three times his height. Ian’s not, uh, three feet tall. To put it in perspective, sir, we were roughly at eye-level with her knees.”

“Ok. Anything else? She donning anything? What’s she look like.”

“Sir. The weird thing is… she didn’t look like a tall… a giant, er, giantess, whatever you want to call… an abnormally tall woman. These women, I mean… all the women over 7 feet I‘ve ever seen on the internet, or documentaries, or even the few very tall women I may have seen in person two or three times in my life... I mean before this, of course… well… their proportions are… different. Than… regular-sized women. This one, she actually looked like… like a… girl… of a regular height, but scaled up? She looked like a … if you’ll excuse me sir, a, the shape of a fit, attractive, 5-foot-6 or 5-foot-9, ah… woman… that you took and uniformly scaled up from that height something like three times. So what is that?”

“Around sixteen and a half, seventeen feet.”

“Right. I guess. I know it sounds… uniform scale by a factor… like we do in CAD drafting. Just like we do in AutoCAD. Where we insert blocks and specify either an X factor, Y, or Z factor, or just uniform scale up where the shape is kept in proportion to the original shape but made bigger or smaller… in this case bigger. But proportionally. Her head, maybe a seventh or an eight her total height… that’s the weirdest part, that she looked like a normal, nice-bodied girl but just bigger, ah… impossibly big. Ah… Fit. She looked fit. Very, very kind on the eyes if you don’t mind my saying so, sir. Only that… so tall… big… Ah…”

“Ok.”

“…”

“…”

“As she approached there was also this smell… a very particular smell I’m not sure I ever smelled before. Somehow, however, it seemed… oddly familiar. The smell was like… that of... if you took raw meat and… nutmeg. Burnt. Nutmeg, ah… raw meat and burnt nutmeg in a busy public restroom someone had just sprayed vanilla Lysol in. Yeah. Ah… I guess that’s the best way I can describe it.”

“Charred nutmeg, ammonia, vanilla, raw beef.”

“Right.”

“Ok. Other than her height. What else.”

“Ok. Other things. For example, like… ok. Like, no hair. Like not even a baby. Just like, totally bald. Not shaved. Just no hair. Smooth. Her scalp. Her skin tone, like a sheeny kind of a creamy color. You know, ah, condensed milk? That color. But sheeny. Beautiful. The face was… perfect. The eyes were weird in that they looked huge. Yes, as I said, the entirety of her is scaled up, but even then, the eyes are still disproportionately big even within her scaled-up context. Maybe if you… took them out, maybe the size of softballs? Or maybe bigger? Anyway, but beautiful. It’s hard to explain. Like she still looked proportioned. Eye color a strange kind of black. Nose pointy straight. Sharp, strong nose. Refined. Very shapely, thick lips. But sharp-angled. Pointy chin. Unusually pointy actually. I mean, rounded but pointy. Ears, thin but very elaborate. Like a person with ears that are thin, close to the head and elaborately shaped. And very translucent. Another extremely… odd feature? Extremely thick, gray eyebrows. Very well defined edges, furry. Beautiful, too. But strange. The color was silver, actually. Like fish-shaped. Like the silhouette of a fish. I’m talking about the eyebrows. Like two furry, silver fish facing one another. Not silverfish the insect. Two fish. Like from the sea.”

“Gotcha.”

“Ok…”

“…”

“…”

“What did she have on?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing.”

“Primary, secondary sex characteristics you could plainly see?

“Now that you mention it, sir, quite small breasts and… I did check. Ah, no… ah…”

“Vulva?”

“Right. No… line or anything. Just… clear.”

“Anything else?”

“She walked on tip-toe, sir.”

“Tip toe? How do you mean?”

“Well, sir, that exactly. My mother used to have a hairdresser who would come over to the house every so often. She used to bring her daughter along. The little girl walked around like that, too. This reminded me of that. She did so until about seven or eight I guess. She walked on the balls of her feet, I guess is what it really was. But it was like they were locked in that position. The woman’s. Her soles were at like a 45 degree angle from the ground. She didn’t seem though to be making any special effort at all to walk. Like it was second nature. Like… no, actually. Like she was born like that or something.”

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“Wow.”

“Yes. Nonetheless, sir, she… her movements were fluid, normal. Again, as if she were the size of an average person. Not any slower or awkward at all as could be expected from someone that… big. As far as agility. But, for example, she did have… very athletic legs, and I guess since gravity stays a constant regardless of you having more mass than normal, the way her flesh moved slightly, along with her walking, that did seem to be slightly slower, that movement. Just slightly. And perfect posture too, not slumped or leaning at all in any way. Her walk was… confident. Purposeful.”

“Nothing else on her, no jewelry, keys, weapons, money, anything?”

“No sir. Nothing.”

“What about markings, patches, skin art, prosthetics, devices?”

“No, nothing at all.”

“Did you… communicate with her at all. Either you or, ah, Mr. Smith? Talk to her?”

“No, sir. Well. Ian was… saying things, but I guess mostly talking to himself, sir. But no, she just kept looking straight ahead. She didn’t make a sound.”

“What was her demeanor like, was she smiling, was she… happy, angry, sad, confused? Did she seem lost, afraid?”

“She seemed… aloof. Sir. Expressionless. Actually, maybe a very subtle smirk, going along with a very subtle frown. But like those were not expressions but actually how she naturally was? Like that’s just how she is? Like she was born like that? She just kept looking straight ahead, the whole time, even when Ian went over to her.”

“So tell me about that part. Tell me exactly what went on. What the… interaction was.”

“Well sir, he went over and stood in front of…”

“Wait. Start from the beginning. And give me details. You were shooting the breeze, you and Mr. Smith, by the basketball court at the park east of Laramie, when what happened? Go ahead.”

“Ian saw her first. I was talking. My jaw must have dropped some. She was… just… walking seemingly toward something really far away, behind us. There were lots of toads just hopping along as she walked, at her feet. Ian, excuse me sir, but, he said, uh, ‘What the fucking fuck’. And, ‘Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.’ Sir. Pardon me, sir. But he just kept repeating, uh, those exact words, sir. And all of a sudden he has gotten up and is walking toward this... woman. She’s maybe thirty feet from us. In front of us. Ian keeps going toward her. Sir, by now it’s just unreal, just how surreal this is with Ian close to her, the difference in size, the fact that she looks like a normal woman but scaled-up. Just right there in front of you, existing. Ah…”

“Go on.”

“Well, he has stood in front of her, maybe 15 feet before her. So actually almost as far away from her as she is tall. He looks straight ahead at, I’m guessing, her legs, then up at her face, then back at her legs again and then back up at her face again. He says: ‘Hey’. She says nothing. She stops. Stays there balanced, perfectly, static, on the balls of her feet. I had never seen that expression before on his face. His face and body language, all of a sudden filled with graveness, focus and resolve. He got closer to her, and closer, hands outstretched in front of him. ‘I, ah, yelled to him, I said, don’t touch her, don’t touch her.’ He just kept going, like on a mission…”

“Go on.”

“I’m now maybe standing six feet from them. Up close she’s even more amazing. Beautiful, but just made so much larger. Up close is that I noticed the sheen on her skin, and that on her forearms, she’s got these little short, silver hairs. I mean not like fur or anything, you can see the skin, the dermis, perfectly, but she’s got these tiny little hairs. Evenly spaced. Her lower legs too. Short silver hairs. And again, her face. Just… out of this world beautiful. Is ‘gorgeous’ more of a superlative, as a word, than ‘beautiful’? But it doesn’t come close either. I had never seen anything like that. Like everything was the perfect size, shape, location, so that the harmony achieved was, like… maybe a balance that genetics alone have not yet in the history of man come up with. That, in itself, made her strange. Scary… in a way. Just… it’s very hard to describe. The features were also like exaggerated somewhat, but that was… a good thing.”

“Ok. And what happened next?”

“He gets to her, hugs her left leg…”

“Hugs it?”

“Yeah, I mean, yes, sir. Hugs it with both arms and legs. Squirms and moves in a weird way, like trying to rub himself on her, also his whole face, pressing against her skin, rubbing against it, desperately, crazily. No reaction on her part. His hands grabbing at her flesh as best he could, trying to grip, squeeze. Rub? But harshly? He starts patting it, hard, too, the leg, first with one hand, then both hands, and that is when he fell to the ground, on his back, by her foot.”

“Hold on. He fell, you say. What height? Did he hurt himself? In any way? Maybe hit his head?”

“No, he fell on his back. He was kind of hunched over when he fell.”

“How high?”

“Not so high. His face was around the level of her mid-thigh. So four, five feet maybe?”

“Ok. Then what.”

“He gets up immediately, as if nothing had happened, climbs the right leg then, rubs his face in it, starts foaming at the mouth and spitting on her skin, smashing and rubbing his face on it. Then with one hand he starts to take off his shorts. He manages to do so, but to do that he had to let go, stop clamping her leg with his legs. Thankfully his underwear was still on. He tries to take those off too, but instead his whole body starts shaking, as he’s holding on to her legs just with his arms. Suddenly he stops moving. I just hear heavy breathing on his part.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t moving.”

“Well, he’s static, except for the breathing, sir.”

“Ok. What then?”

“I called out to him. I said, ‘Ian, Ian, you ok?’ But no answer. She’s still looking ahead of her, completely indifferent to the situation, with that slight smirk on her face. I try to yank him back down, but the grip he’s got with his arms is amazing. After a maybe a half a minute I’m able to, ah, unclamp him, if you will. Take him down.”

“Did you touch the…”

“No, sir. I did not touch her. Well, not my exposed skin. The sole of my shoe did touch her shin, as I pushed against her skin with my leg as I was prying him off her. Up so close to her, that smell I mentioned was overwhelming, by the way, sir. Made it almost difficult to breath.”

“Ok.”

“…”

“Did you leave any marks, with your shoe?”

“On her?”

“Ah… yes. Any marks?”

“No, which surprised me, actually. The skin seem very tough. Tough but smooth, and with these relatively sparse, thick, straight, silver little hairs. Like almost made out of that plastic gel material that you can scrape a knife blade on and it’s unfazed? Like that, sort of.”

“Ok. Did he leave any marks?”

“Nothing. At least none that I could plainly see”

“Ok.”

“…”

“Ok, so what happened then?”

“Ian’s on the ground and not responding. His eyes are open but he’s not with me. He looks straight ahead. In this case at the electric blue early morning sky, as I got him lying on the ground, face up. Looking right past me. I yell at him and shake him, no response. He’s got this… euphoric look on his face. Wide eyes. This slight, relaxed grin. I looked back up at her, she hasn’t moved. I look back at Ian. Yell at him again, shake him, nothing. Just that detached, satisfied, peaceful half-smile on his face and eyes at half-mast. All of a sudden she’s turning around and she starts to walk away. Right back the way she came. The toads that were all around us, now following her, hopping about around her, as she strides off.”

“Did you attempt to follow her? See where she might go?”

“No. Just sat there beside him in awe and looking at her walking away, just… I mean, kind of in shock… in awe at the surreal development… phenomenon. What had just happened. This sixteen-foot, out-of-this-world beautiful… entity… I shouldn’t really keep calling her ‘woman’, although, of course, she has woman form… but so… yes. No, I didn’t… couldn’t follow. Just kept looking at her walking away, miniaturizing trees along her way, watching her deliberate, balls-of-her-feet stride as she got further and further away. I lost sight of her when she was eventually enveloped by the light mist that had formed in the distance. I do wonder where… something like that would go to.”

“Okay. I think we’re done here.”

“Ok.”

“Thank you, Mr. Merrick.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“…”

“Ah, sir? How’s he doing? If I may ask?”

“He’s fine. He’s in good hands. Under observation.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

“…”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Sure, sir. Thank you.”

“Mr. Merrick.”