The Drill (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Kpleeb used his hand to add momentum and then watched closely as his rotational device spun. The large arm that was designed to press it against the wall was not engaged, so it revolved freely.

The tip of the device was a rounded and ridged wedge. It looked sharp because it was sharp. As sharp as Kpleeb could make it. He had been refining his manufacturing processes for months and had become quite adept at shaping the stone that lined every surface of the cave. When the tip of his device rotated, the small end pushed against the surface and the ridges bit into the stone, and shaved away bits of stone in order to form a hole.

He thought that the more pressure applied to the tip, the stronger the bite would be. This appeared to be a true statement when he had tested it against the standard, mottled cave stone. Of course, this stone would simply open a hole if he requested it, but drilling the hole proved that his idea was sound. Despite a number of devices built to test these theories, the smooth, grey stone beneath the cave surface resisted all of his attempts to penetrate it.

Months ago, when he had used his hammer device, and he had seen a resulting mar on the surface. It was much too small to qualify as a crack. It was tiny, but it was still there; proof that the grey stone could be harmed. Whenever he felt like giving up, this small fracture convinced him to continue his quest for escape.

Around the circumference of the of the wedge-tip there were three mounts set at equal distances. These mounts each held one of Thoka’s rods. There was also a much larger Thoka-rod (T-rod as he called it) mounted to the lever-arm that held the tip. Kpleeb did not understand how they functioned even though she had tried to explain several times, but he did trust that the rods would do as she said.

“These rods on the circumference will strengthen the wedge-tip,” she had told him. “That is necessary because the stone wedge that the tip is made of is not as strong as the grey stone that we are trying to penetrate. It needs bolstering. And the larger rod simply uses the invisible forces to draw the grey stone to itself, which continually pushes the wedge against the grey stone.”

Kpleeb could not see the effects that the rods had, but the fact that one of them had bent… well that was something new. [It should have broken. I am glad that she is going to figure that out.] He paused and smiled to himself. [Thoka accepts me, which is great. She’s so smart and super beautiful.]

[Focus, Kpleeb…. Focus.]

He rotated the small gate that allowed the water to flow down the sluice. The wheel began to move and picked up speed. He had placed tiny, smooth cylinders around the edges of the rotating pieces to reduce friction and was proud that it made almost no noise. The wheel did not wobble or shake, but the T-rods were not yet mounted. When Thoka was done fixing the bent rod he would have to re-balance the whole device again.

Kpleeb bent down and looked closely at the grey stone wall where the wedge-bit had touched. The surface looked rough, but when he wiped the area, a dust came away from the wall and coated his hand. The grey stone was smooth and shiny underneath.

[We will figure this out.] He straightened and cracked his back before turning to the gap between the caves.

“Thoka, is everything alright?” He took two steps into Thoka’s cave – he still thought of it as hers – and saw her look up as he spoke.

“Yes, Kpleeb. You don’t need to worry so much.” She looked up at the dimming sun. “I remade the bent rod with my new formula. Maybe it will hold this time. Do you want to eat? I’m hungry.”

“Eating for two as my mam used to say,” said Kpleeb with a smile.

“Mmmm. I want sweetbread. Could you get some?” Thoka stood and began walking. “I’ll be right back.”

“Cave,” said Kpleeb, “make sweetbread, toasted and warm the way she likes it. And make me a muskrat leg, medium-rare.” He sat down and watched as the food was slowly knit together on the surface of the food outcropping.

“The baby feels fine,” said Thoka as she returned. “I have felt some small fluttering movements and no pain.”

“How are your dreams?”

“Vivid. I can’t be sure that it is part of being pregnant. The female body produces many hormones while pregnant. I was the mid-wife’s assistant for one summer.” She shrugged and sat next to Kpleeb.

Kpleeb put his arm affectionately around Thoka’s waist and continued to watch the food. “I am glad that the child is okay. Can you tell what kind it is?”

“You mean, the sex?” Thoka grinned at Kpleeb. “I can’t tell, although the mid-wife said that morning sickness early on means it’s a girl. If I crave sweets, it might be a girl.” She nodded at the sweetbread. “But the signals are ever changing and easy to mix up.”

“Hmm, well how do we figure out what to call her… uh, him, it then? We’ll need to talk about names.”

Thoka grabbed the prepared sweetbread and took a bite. “Mmm, that’s good.”

“I always liked ‘Kolpi’.”

Thoka wrinkled her nose in apparent distain. “I had a pet reindeer named Kolpu. What was your mam’s name?”

Kpleeb shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“She never told me. It was just mam!”

“Well, what did other people call her?”

“Everyone called her mam, even the fab elder Shoofit.” Kpleeb looked slightly embarrassed. He reached over and picked up the muskrat leg. It was dripping fat from the wound side. He peeled back the skin with hair still on it and took a ripping bite.

“Hmm, well maybe that was her actual name. Right?”

“Maybe,” he said through his mouthful of meat. He chewed methodically and pondered the question. [Mam’s name was ‘Mam?’ I doubt it. Seems too… weird. What was Da’s name? Ahh, I remember. Tilu.] He nodded to himself. [Elder Oplom used to call him that when they drank fermented yak’s milk together.]

Thoka had fallen silent while she ate in earnest. After a few moments, she leaned to bump Kpleeb with her shoulder. “We have to think about names for a cavegirl and caveboy and then talk about them. It will take some time to settle on one.”

Kpleeb nodded.

Later as he slipped into the sleeping hollow next to Thoka, she stirred slightly. Kpleeb patted her arm gently and settled in to enjoy the warmth of her body. [Gipti, Doriy, Wiftl…] he sighed. [Choosing a name is going to be hard.] He was asleep in a few short moments.

He was jostled, slightly. When his eyes opened the cave was almost completely dark. There was a faint hissing sound as if wind whistled across a distant crack in the stone. A shadow, long and low, flitted across the inky darkness before him.

[Huh?] He began to move his hand upward to wipe his eyes, but his limb would not move. His eyelids became weighted with unseen persuasion, and though he fought to retain a grasp on consciousness, his thoughts faded.

“I can’t believe you don’t even know my name, Leebee.” The voice was muffled at first, but became clear before she spoke his name. Mam looked up from her weaving and smiled at him with the familiar, toothy smile. She set down the tamping stick and reached to stir the large, stone pot that boiled next to her.

Kpleeb shrugged and mumbled, “Sorry, mam.” He was irritated and shuffled his feet in the dirt. After a few moments he had waited long enough.

“Well, what is your name?” He looked up at his mam and grimaced. “And, please stop calling me Leebee. I’m not a baby any longer.”

Mam rolled her eyes and continued packing the reeds with her stick. “Your da would twist your ear for forgetting, Leebee.”

“I don’t think I forgot! I never knew!” Kpleeb threw up his hands.

“Why do you want to know? All cavechildren have a mam. Why should you call me anything else? You can never be too old. Even now, you are still my budding caveboy.”

Kpleeb turned and walked to the entrance of the cave that looked out onto the common area. Just a stride’s length outside, a dull, impenetrable fog blanketed everything. It felt moist as he turned to face his mam again. “I am having a cavechild of my own.”

“I know you are.” Mam’s eyes shifted toward him, but her hands never stopped.

“How could you know?”

“I know much. Anyway, this child is as much a part of me as it is of you.”

Kpleeb felt a chill on his ankles and turned toward the cave entrance. The fog had entered the cave and was seeping inward at a slow pace. His heels became numb. He tried to back away, but his legs and stomach had already been enveloped. His lips tried to form a cry. His mind slumped.