The Index -|-

Kpleeb stood hunched over the outcropping while he scooped a new pile of worms into his mouth. He savored the rich flavor and texture, but noticed that it was different this time, at least slightly. After a handful of moments, he straightened and cracked his back. He rocked his hairy shoulders back and forth for a moment while looking at the outcropping.

[The outcropping is so low.]

He had never noticed the height of the outcropping while eating the gray flub, probably because of his long-held tendency to hold and eat his food while squatting on the balls of his feet. When he had been a cave-child, the older ones would sometimes steal his food by distracting him, and he had learned to eat at all times with eyes upward and legs poised to run.

Kpleeb looked down at the hair on his chest and gingerly picked at the dried worm goo tangled there. During the last sun-cycles he had learned that these sticky worms were not at all well-suited to eating while walking. After eating he cupped water from the outcropping into his palms and wetted the hair on his chest in an effort to wash out the goo. He smeared in a circle and grimaced at the tangled hair basket that was created.

“Urgh!” he grunted. “This outcropping is low!” He began scooping water more quickly, and in a few moments, the front of his body was dripping with watery goo. The liquid on his feet was thin and milky. He kept scooping until the soggy mat on his chest was almost gone. Yet again there was a small puddle in the middle of the cave floor. Kpleeb glared at the puddle in frustration and went to use the defecation pit.

[Odd that there is no smell here,] he thought as he bent over the pit. He looked down, but the hole was dark. It was the only place other than where the sun lived that he could not examine. “I wish I could see down there,” he grunted to himself. He looked up at the sun and saw that it was dimming. Once he completed his defecation, he settled down for the night slumped against the food outcropping and fell asleep.

He awoke on his back in the center of the cave, and the back of his neck hurt.

His eyes opened and the dim, morning sun above him was terribly blurry. He shut his eyes again and rubbed with the heel of his palm before reopening them. He could see better, but there appeared to be some kind of substance stuck to his eyelashes. He prodded at his tear duct with his finger-tip and it came away damp and gooey. The tip of his finger was covered with it. He rubbed carefully at the ache on back of his neck, and thought that it was similar to the last time he had encountered the same wound in the same spot.

Kpleeb sat up and went to get water at the outcropping. He washed his face and noticed that the water pooled in the hollow contained small, yellowish floating pieces of goo.

“Similar to worm goo,” he muttered. He had washed all of the goo out of his chest hair and did not remember getting any on his face or eyes.

He turned and noticed that the puddle was once again gone from the middle of the cave where he had been sleeping, and that was when he realized that somehow, in the night he had gone from sleeping against the wall to sleeping the middle of the room on his back. After pausing to think about it for a few long moments, he was not sure if he simply forgot where he slept. Moving without remembering was certainly unlikely but not impossible.

His mam had told him that skir-walkers were cave-children that were possessed to wander at night. Some skir-walkers were lost, but they could be saved if their mam made them sleep under a covering that was weighted with rocks. Either way, Kpleeb had not been one of the skir-walkers, and had in fact participated in the group that jeered at the cave-children who were cursed in such a way.

He turned back to the outcropping to get a drink, but the hollow was still full of his face wash, floaters and all. Not appetizing. He remembered the hole that had formed at the bottom.

“Empty hollow,” he said. It was just a statement of whim really, and he did not believe it would happen. Nevertheless, in a moment a hole did form at the bottom of the hollow, and the water drained out. He put one hand on each side of the outcropping and bent to look closely at the hole but could not see the bottom. He bent further and looked at the underside of the outcropping and there was no hole and no water on the cave floor even though the outcropping was only as thick as two of his hands.

“Water,” he said as he straightened, and water began to flow from the edges of the hollow. The water appeared to come from the stone itself, and it covered all of the sides before it trickled into the hole that remained at the bottom.

“No hole.” The hole slowly disappeared and the water began to fill. When it reached about half of the hollow’s depth it stopped.

Kpleeb drank from his cupped hands while he pondered his new-found ability to command the outcropping. When he straightened he realized that the outcropping felt higher than it had been the previous sun-cycle. At least he thought it was. He bent again and turned his head to the sides. Holding that bent position was not difficult, but he could not be sure.

[I slept here,] he thought looking at the outcropping. It came to mind that he might be able to see the difference from the floor, so he sat next to it the way he had done before and turned his head to look at the outcropping next to him. [It is higher!]

He stood again, and paced from one side of the cave to the other. He did not understand how the outcropping could change. It looked the same in every way as it had before, just a little higher on the wall. He turned and walked toward the defecation pit, and the recurring curiosity came to his mind. [What is inside the pit?]

Kpleeb stopped and looked into the low pit. It was still dark. He did not want to reach his arm inside even though it did not smell. He paused and looked at the sun.

[What if…]

“Sun. Be here,” he said pointing with his knuckles at a spot in the ceiling above the pit. He waited and watched the pit and the sun alternately. There was no change. He waited longer, at least two handfuls of moments in his reckoning, and nothing happened. He became impatient and raised his voice while accentuating with his knuckle. “Sun, go HERE! Come here!”

It did no good.

“What is your name?” The strange voice spoke from the other side of the cave.

Kpleeb swiveled quickly and looked. There was no one there, just like before. He began to crouch, ready for a quick flight. He understood, but the voice was extremely odd. It sounded as if the person speaking had a mouth full of broken teeth and river water, and did not want either to escape. After a few moments of silent disappointment, he decided to answer.

“Kpleeb,” he said loudly, “of canyon river cave-tribe.” He paused and waited for an answer. Though patience was not Kpleeb’s virtue, he continued to wait and wait. After what seemed like many handfuls of moments, he spoke again in hopes of coaxing the voice to answer.

“What you want from me?” He waited some more while his eyes scoured the curved surfaces of the cave.

“Why you not answer me?” After a few more moments his patience evaporated like a noon-fog.

“You speak but no answer?” he yelled and waved his hairy hands. “What games you play, gods?! You speak, now answer!” Kpleeb stomped to the spot where he had heard the voice. “Come talk to me, you fear-badger!” He put his hands into the outcropping, filled them with water and threw the water at the wall in disgust.

There was no response, but Kpleeb was now angry and began to scream indecipherably at the walls. He slammed his fists and feet on random spots on the cave floor and walls. He yelled into the pit, and jumped up and down in anger, but nothing changed. There was no response, the water flowed when he wanted it, the sun shone, and he was entirely stuck in the cave. His outrage boiled over for many moments until he finally gave up and raised his fist at the sun.

“I hate being the joke. I am not your toy!” It was a statement made as a confirmation for the fury that he felt inside. He felt powerful when he made this statement, and so he glared at the ceiling with upright fist for several moments before moving to sit watchfully by the middle-wall.

His blood cooled, and Kpleeb sat for much time. Many thoughts echoed around inside him that he had never thought before. He felt as if he could see the cave, and himself, in a new way.

[These gods, do they make the water flow? The hole opening and closing… what about the outcropping?] He had witnessed things in the past few sun-cycles that challenged everything he knew, and he now truly believed that the gods, at least these gods, were present. [These gods use me for sport like a cave-child plays with the captured lemmings.]

[I will not be so quick to answer, but I can learn.] He was determined. [I will learn.] He stood and walked to the defecation pit. “Cave wall, come here,” he said and placed his hand above the pit. “Be shiny, like water.” He stepped back and waited.

Nothing happened in Kpleeb’s cave for many, many moments, and eventually, he shrugged and went to get another drink.

The Index -|-

Kpleeb awoke still sitting.

He rubbed his stiff neck slowly to exorcise the ache and yawned deeply.

[I need something else to do.]

The sun-cycles were becoming too boring. His eyes wandered to the shallowest part of the cave floor. The pool of water and fragments of his last meal were gone.

Standing slowly, Kpleeb walked to the center of the cave and bent to look at the floor. There was no residue to show where the water line had been. He placed his hand palm down on the floor and felt the same warmth emanating. Where did the water go? There was no evidence that it had been there, and yet it had cleaned everything from the floor. He looked at the outcropping and it was empty. It filled with water when he put his hand into the hollow. He drank, and though his stomach grumbled there was some satisfaction. He was hungry, but did not relish the idea of eating more meat and gray flub.

Kpleeb felt that he had already lost track of the time he had spent in the strange cave, so he used most of the sunlight trying to find a way to begin marking the sun-cycles. Back home in the canyon he had attempted to make cave drawings before begging Pfftul to bring him to the cavecraftsman user group. He had never had an artistic side, but he did pick up a few tips after a few moon-cycles of watching Pupsig draw. He did not have any charcoal in this strange cave and no fire or wood to make any. In fact, there were no tools here at all that he could use to scrape even a line in the stone wall.

He contemplated the alternatives. He could smear feces or food on the stone, and perhaps the mark would stay until he could fashion a better tool. He tried his finger nails, which were sharp, but when he tested one on the stone, the fingernail wore down quickly and made no mark at all. His blood, obtained from the splintering of the fingernail did stain the stone. He carefully made a small blood mark for each of his fingers. He did not know what the number was, but it was done for now. He would try with his food before trying with feces.

That evening when the sun dimmed Kpleeb stood reluctantly and went to get his meal. When he looked into the hollow there was no meat accompanied by gray flub. In the center of the hollow was what appeared to be a nest of long yellowish worms. They must have been dead, because they did not move. Mixed in with the worms were small chunks of green, yellow and red plants (possibly), and the whole thing was covered in a white-ish goo.

[Gross.]

He bent and put his nose above the hollow. A warmth arose from the pile of worms, and the smell was unexpectedly good. The worms were not moving, so Kpleeb stuck the tip of his finger into the goo and pulled it up to sniff. It still smelled delicious so he carefully licked the goo off of his finger. He had never tasted anything quite so good – except for maybe the time Goomu had made her famous lemming pie with musk ox milk-sauce.

Kpleeb fished a long worm out of the gelatinous goo and broke it in half with his fingers. There was no blood or entrails to be seen. It was the same color and consistency all the way through, which he knew was strange. He had played with the mud worms as a kid, and as he became older, he had encountered the carnivorous blood worms that lived in the river shallows. No worm ever looked like this, at least not on the inside. He popped both sides of the broken worm into his mouth and chewed.

The colored plant pieces were crunchy while the worms themselves were slightly chewy and retained the flavor from the savory goo. In just a few minutes he ate the entire pile of worms and then patted his belly which was taut with its temporary fullness. Despite his happiness with the food, Kpleeb hoped that the drastic change did not affect his bowels in any strange way. He put his hand in the hollow and it began to fill with water from the upper edges. Unfortunately, the water mixed with goo residue on the surface, and ended up with tiny chunks of food floating on the surface of the water.

He grimaced and cupped his hands to scoop water for a drink. It was warm and filmy.

“Why does this not empty itself?” he muttered. He bent and sipped, and after a few seconds, a hole slowly formed in the bottom of the hollow. Kpleeb dropped his handful of water and stared as the water drained away. When the hollow was empty the hole closed again by itself and appeared as if it was solid stone.

Kpleeb retreated to the other side of the cave and paced nervously.

[What does it mean? Is this magic?]

He had never seen stone change except through carving. Even then the rock often shattered, and the work took time, skill, and much effort. The more he thought, the more he realized that the outcropping had given him his wish, but he did not know how that could be. Fab elder Shoofit’s lengthy (and boringly droning) descriptions of the great spirit tahr never included wish granting, gift giving, or anything that Kpleeb could remember as being a direct and active benefit to the cave-tribe.

The great spirit tahr had always been said to provide the sun that moved the tundra from the frozening to the wetening, the rain that made the flub and other plants grow, and the wind that howled at the cave entrance. Anas was the silent cunning behind their defenses when attacked by roaming plains bandits, and Koort (the vigorous) was their strength in battle. There were other magics mentioned by the fab elder, but Kpleeb believed those to be tales for scaring children. Kpleeb had been quite terrified of losing his toes to the Shinref when he was a cavechild, but as he grew up with all of his footly digits he became more and more skeptical.

He sat down. The stone was warm against his back, and he placed his elbows on his knees with his large, hairy hands on his sloping head. His mind swarmed with thoughts that he had never entertained.

[The great spirit tahr, Anas, Koort, and the others have never shown me anything so directly.]

Kpleeb did not know how to finish the thought, but in a moment his inner voice coalesced with more clarity than he had ever previously known.

[I simply do not believe in them.]

He sighed and thought about his mam and how she would beg him not to bring the great tahr’s anger down on the cave with his disbelief.

The sun dimmed, and Kpleeb stood to look again at the outcropping before darkness came.

This could be the magic of a god that I have never known. He remembered the bad flub and the voice he had heard. Maybe the hole in the outcropping was just a vision brought upon him by his sour stomach. He leaned and tapped on the spot where the hole had opened, but nothing happened. [Hmmm.] He was entirely skeptical and uncertain. Maybe there was a god or maybe he was merely sick and delusional.

After a time, he lay down in the hollow at the center of the cave and stretched his arms out above his head with his palms toward the ceiling. The crosshatch of his fingers against the waning sun reminded him of home.

[I wish I could see Pfftul or Ullipt, or Olara. They would not believe this strange cave. I will have stories to tell.]

[Have to remember to mark the sun-cycle tomorrow…]

The Index -|-

Kpleeb had no idea how long he sat in the cave. The sun had dimmed and the moon had risen a handful of times at least, but the regularity dulled his already sluggish senses. He ate mechanically now, his daily meal taken without gusto when it arrived on the outcropping. He wondered why the meal came not long before the sun began to dim, but he was tired of it either way.

The floor, while smooth and warm was also hard, and he was unused to a sedentary life. He stood and stretched regularly whenever the aching began. He paced and examined every inch of the cave and the outcroppings. The only part of the space that he could not touch was the center of the cave ceiling. He became curious about the defecation pit because it was the only thing left to explore. He bent over it, baring his teeth at the expectation of smell. It was just too dark to see how deep the hole was, and to his surprise, there was no scent at all.

He was just about to reach into the defecation pit when he heard the voice. It was higher pitched and thinner than he was used to, like a child’s voice. There were just a few syllables that echoed lightly from the center of the cave. They were words he did not comprehend. Kpleeb spun around and saw nothing. At a crouch, he began to move toward where the voice had been. Suddenly, he staggered as a wave of sleep hit him. He felt his legs give way, and then his body collapsed into a heap.

First came the awareness, fuzzily prodding at his senses. His eyes opened slowly after an indeterminate delay. The remainder of his senses followed in their own time. Kpleeb’s lips smacked over dry tongue with odd flavor. He heard nothing but the faint echo of his own movement in the cave. His arm buzzed with sleepy numbness where he lay on it and restricted the blood flow. He shifted off of his arm and raised his head.

There was a dull ache on the back of his neck and he reached with his wobbly arm to feel. After gracelessly poking himself in the cheek with his half-responsive fingers he was able to touch the spot that ached. There was a small bump, warm and tender, about the size of his smallest finger-tip. He winced when he pressed to determine its seriousness. The pain was minimal, but something had bitten him or… Did I hit my head when I fell?

Kpleeb sat up and looked around the cave. Nothing was different. The air did not move. He looked up at the sun and saw from the brightness that it appeared to be almost mid-day. He stood carefully and walked to the food outcropping. There was nothing in it, but when he put his hand inside, it began to fill with water.

[I surely am not in the pit of the damned.]

He scooped water up and drank. He had not noticed before, but this water was perfect and had no odd taste at all. He remembered that the water from the river at the bottom of the shallow canyon back home always had a hint of minerals.

“Burrpti kolugut heno ai”

Kpleeb saw no one, but clearly heard the voice. It sounded as if it was questioning him, but he did not understand. He grunted vaguely and waited, but nothing appeared and no other words were uttered out of the air. As there was no other caveperson in the cave, he had not spoken during his time in the cave.

“I not know these words,” he finally said with a slight shrug.

There was no response.

Kpleeb waited. The sun dimmed, and the moon rose. He slept fitfully only after an extended period of lying awake on his back in the hollow of the cave floor. His mind spun with questions that he could not quite grasp. He had heard the fab elder Shoofit speak at length about the great spirit tahr that judged all cavemen, but he had never heard or seen the spirit. Was it the spirit tahr?

He did eventually fall asleep and his dreams were filled with images of hidden spirits and tundra dwelling animals talking gibberish to him. In his final dream a yak gave him a gray leaf that smelled and tasted amazing, but then he began to violently vomit. He awoke, chilled and vomiting and was not able to crawl to the defecation pit before spewing meat and gray flub all over the cave floor. He finished hurling the contents of his last meal into the defecation pit and carefully walked to the food outcropping.

He filled his mouth with cool water and then went to spit it out into the pit. The cave floor was slanted and wet from his upheaval, and he slipped and came down on his rump and forearm with a cry. He cradled his arm for a few moments, and then recalled his dreams. The food has made me sick. His pondering about the voice and the vomiting concluded with a simple answer to his situation. In my sickness I have dreamt of voices and spirit animals.

It was a relief to know that the great spirit tahr had not chosen this difficult moon-cycle of his life to torment him. Kpleeb got slowly to his feet and walked to the outcropping to drink his fill. He then sat with his back against the wall where there was no mess and realized just how exhausted he felt. He finally nodded off–

–and woke sometime later with a chill. The air was misty, but he could still see the outcropping that held the pit. To his amazement it soon began to gently rain within the small cave. The rain itself was warm, and Kpleeb watched as the cave floor became clean. In moments, all of the detritus floated in the center of the cave at the lowest spot where he normally slept. The floor below him was warm, and he considered that he would have to sleep near the food outcropping from that moment on.

Kpleeb spent many handfuls of time searching the cave again. He looked for the source of the rain, but could not see a cloud or any openings in the ceiling of the cave that would allow water to enter. There were caves back home near the canyon that sometimes would seep from the ceiling during the wetening, but he knew had been able to see those cracks in the rock. There were none here. Eventually, the sun began to dim, and he recognized the time of day when the food came.

The outcropping was empty when he checked it, so he put his hand inside and then drank from the water that was emitted. He sat down and watched the still pool in the center of the cave. It had not diminished at all. The air still smelled slightly of his vomit, and he hoped that it would fade in time. There was a very slight whine near the outcropping that he had not heard before, and he stood and looked inside.

The meat and flub were there and were hot to the touch, but Kpleeb’s stomach complained when he thought about eating. He was hungry and he needed the food even though his gaunt frame had filled out a little since he was caught in the darkness at the oasis. He had only one meal each sun-cycle, every sun-cycle at the same time, as far as he could tell.

“Urg,” he said quietly to himself, “this is an inviting cave, but the same food has become a burden.” He had not used his voice for many sun-cycles before this day, and it was hoarse. He scratched and sat down again determined to skip the meal even though he was hungry.

In time, the sun dimmed, and the moon appeared. Kpleeb saw that, like the sun, the moon did not rise from the horizon. He fell asleep pondering this mystery.