Pages

google analytics

Thursday, November 22, 2012

I’m The One Dreaming This Story…




He is a Neanderthal man – upright, a biped, strong and hairy.  But intelligent.  More so than the rest of his tribe.

A tribal council of some kind is being held. The chief wants to address the group – but the second is getting in the way. The second looks like a monkey, as over and over he repeats the gestures of obsequiousness. He kisses the chief's chin and stands close. The chief warns him to stop but for some reason the second continues this provocation.  Perhaps he wants to challenge the chief.

Instead the chief offers the challenge to whoever will accept it. The intelligent Neanderthal steps forward. He is determined. He's had troubles with the second many times in the past and now he has an honorable way to resolve them.  His mate holds his arm as he steps forward, removes the towels from his waist and accepts the challenge. He steps into the ring.
But as the cheering begins he is suddenly afraid and begins to run down the hill. The others jeer and taunt him.  They mock his cowardliness.  Even I misunderstand, even though I'm the one dreaming this story…
He reaches the bottom of the hill and suddenly a narrator's voice explains that "volcanic activity and plate movement cause flood waters to rush across the landscape."  The hill he has just run down begins to crumble and collapse. 
Suddenly the ground leveled.  It is a large flat plane.  The grass withers and the earth is parched – cracked. The Neanderthal man turns to see water rushing after him.  But he's smart.  He knows that he can survive it.  So he grabs a large tree branch as the water sweeps him on. As he floats downstream in the flood, dodging branches and floating corpses, he prays to an unknown god that he won't hit a body that he recognizes.
Eventually he lands.
Flash – to what must be years later – the Neanderthal man has found other survivors.  They are living in a commune of some sort; in what looks like an abandoned school building.  He has a daughter now, a new family.  He has drawn a picture of her feeding birds, on a wall.  He sprinkles salt by the picture of the birds in order to "draw them near" he says.
Again, he realizes a sudden, inexplicable fear.  He looks around the corner as four large bulldozers plow through the water.  He thinks they are monsters.  He grabs his daughter and begins to run… but he is grabbed by soldiers in camouflaged outfits.  He yells at his daughter to run.  "I will never let them get you" he yells.
"Never" he yells as they stab him again and again.  "Never"
The daughter runs.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Jeff Carter's books on Goodreads
Muted Hosannas Muted Hosannas
reviews: 2
ratings: 3 (avg rating 4.33)

Related Posts with Thumbnails