The Index -|-

Thoka huffed quietly to herself and put her viewing rod aside. The magnified view that she had experienced disappeared as the rod was removed from her line of sight. She had not enjoyed seeing Kpleeb with the girl in the village. As far as Thoka could see, he had not touched the girl, but he was standing there unclothed in the river while she spoke to him.

He had been tied to a pole in the village for most of the days and nights since his capture. She had seen the big caveman beat Kpleeb and mock him. She could not hear the words spoken, but understood much of the body language. The dark-haired girl was the only one who had fed Kpleeb and spoken to him.

She gritted her teeth in frustration.

[Two days and the hussy is throwing herself at him already. And the bathing! What kind of woman bathes in front of a strange man! I need to hear what they are saying. Without the words, I cannot know what I need to do.]

Thoka’s face flushed in anger. The image of the girl and Kpleeb dripping with water filled her mind. Her rage increased exponentially. Her imagination was fueled by hormones and a lack of sleep. It ran away from her quickly and her thoughts spiraled out of control.

[She is thin… look at me. Ugh.] She looked down at her pregnant torso and grimaced. She was not tremendously large, not yet anyway, but she had lost the toned and shapely figure she had once been so proud of and had gained an unsightly bulge on her abdomen. [He cannot help but be attracted to her- to anyone else- really. How can I blame him?]

The baby kicked and Thoka was brought back to the present. She smelled a faint savory scent, and looked about her. There was forest in all directions. In front of her the river trailed from left to right. It was mostly hidden by the trees, but the silver sheen of sunlight on water broke through the trees in spots. To her right, the village rested on the river at a medium to far distance. There was no sign of a fire or anyone cooking anywhere closer than the village.

Maybe the scent drifted on the wind from the village. It seemed unlikely, but she knew that air currents flowed in ways and patterns that she could not discern. She sighed. [There is no point in being so angry at him. Maybe the baby is affecting my temper. but the girl will pay… maybe Kpleeb too, but for now I must save him.]

Kpleeb was the only smart caveman on the planet as far as Thoka knew, and she had become quite fond of him during their time together. He might be hairy and not particularly strong, but he was a caring caveman. To be specific, he cared for her and had demonstrated it on a regular basis. Thoka had lived long enough to know that this was not normal for many cavemen.

[Does he really care for me?]

Three days ago, she would have stated with certainty that he cared. Now… she doubted his feelings. To be fair, she  also doubted her own judgement and seethed at the apparent insecurity that lifted its flaming head. Thoka shook her head and picked up her sight rod again. Holding it in her right hand she directed it toward the village and slowly changed the angle and rotation of her hand until the view improved.

She was still discovering the its methods of use, but with the rod focused on the village she could see a reasonably close-up view. The air around the edges was cloudy and streaked, but it was clear in the center. There in the village, the pole now stood alone and bare. It was surrounded by crude huts made of reed and mud. Children the size of her thumbs played in clumps. There was no sign of Kpleeb or the girl.

[Did she steal him away?]

Thoka bit her lip and suppressed the annoyance that tried to interrupt her newly reclaimed peace. She then carefully, rescanned the rest of the village and found nothing to alleviate her concern. Wherever Kpleeb was, she could not see him. The village was relatively close to the river. A trail ran along the river bank from the canyon and past the village. The trail only disappeared when nearby foliage obscured it from view. In the far distance she could see a great, flat space, but it appeared to be many days travel from the village.

On the opposite side of the village, the jungle grew thickly and greenly. Several large, rocky crags were visible at a short distance. They were overgrown with climbing green plants and deep shadows. Thoka had never seen anything like it, and Kpleeb had never described anything similar during their long talks in the prison caves. His homeland was dry tundra with only distant mountains visible. She had considered that those mountains might just have been the wet mountains where she had grown up.

The wet mountains were tall, chilly, and its cliffs were loaded with mountain goats. Though the summers were mild, the winters there had always been brutally frigid. Thoka had traveled to the land at the base of the mountain when she had been granted her cavewoman-hood ritual. It had been a tremendous hike, seven days to reach the foothills below. She remembered how strange it felt. The jagged evergreen trees that she was used to were gradually replaced with budding trees with huge leaves. Enormous boulders the size of huts were strewn everywhere, and the land was mostly rutted and rocky. She remembered that it felt like a wasteland. It took ten days to ascend the mountain again.

[It could be that it was Kpleeb’s tundra. Or perhaps the beginnings of it.]

She scanned the village again, and finding that nothing had changed, she put down her viewing rod again. She was hungry, and she knew that warriors could be close by. She had heard them earlier in the day as they passed on the trail below on their way upstream. Looking up at the sun, Thoka could tell that it was just about mid-day. It would be some time before they walked the trail again. There was no better time to leave.

Thoka picked her way carefully down from her perch, pausing every few steps to listen. In a few minutes she reached the trail, and a short time after that she was back across the river. There was only a game trail on the other side where she and Kpleeb had first approached the river. They had never seen any cavepeople on that side of the river. Stopping for a drink, she sat, filled her yellow-stone container with fresh water, and began to make her plans.

[In order to rescue Kpleeb I will need to sneak in and steal him away. Will he want to go with me? Maybe at night and I can knock him out… but then how would I carry the brute? Or… maybe I can find a way to trick them into leaving him alone. A diversion. Or… Wait, if I can see clearly across this distance, maybe I can fight them or hurt them across the distance. There has to be something useful about the invisible forces other than the far-sight.]

Thoka had been in enough fights to know that she could not beat a village full of cavemen without a major advantage of her own. She just needed to think… and plan. The baby kicked again.

“I know, little one, I know. We’ll get some food soon,” she murmured.

She stood and traveled into the forest and up the hill toward the canyon’s ridge. There, halfway up she paused and silently scanned the forest below her. After a few moments, she was sure that nobody was following her. She ducked under a branch that and stepped into a half-circle against the granite wall. The trees had gathered here to protect the mouth of a cave from being seen. She had only spotted it the day before while scanning with her viewing rod from her high perch on the other side of the river.

Thoka stepped under the stone cliff and toward the sloping roof. The cave was shallow, only a handful of paces to the rear wall. There were no animals in sight nor were there bones or other signs that one might count this place as their residence. She reached up and touched the ceiling with outstretched fingers. They came away clean, and there was no sign of soot.

[Is it possible that no caveman has ever found this cave? With a village so close? Can you really call them “cave” people if they live in huts? This is a perfect spot for a den. Why are there no animals here? She pondered the question for a moment before discarding it. There is more important thinking to do. I must eat, drink, and be strong. I must rescue Kpleeb.]

Thoka was diligent and began to think, plan, and work. Soon she had a fire inside the cave, and the thin smoke wafted through the tree boughs above the cave entrance. She ate the remainder of the fish Kpleeb had left her, and took another long drink of water. She then laid out her pieces of yellow-stone. By the time it was dark, she had a workbench and a new rod to test.

[I have to figure out how to hear when I use the viewing rod. I have to find a way to hurt the cavemen from a distance. And shield myself from their stones and spears.]

She squinted and looked up. The sun had disappeared behind the canyon walls and her cave was dim. Her shoulders ached from the bending, and her butt ached from sitting on the stone.

[And I need light. Kpleeb better not make me regret this.]

The Index -|-

Kpleeb sat against the village pole in a total state of public humiliation. The sun rose above the glowing horizon and continued to rise until it faced him and eventually began to scorch his face. Despite the harsh sun on his chest, face, and arms, in the shade behind him, his back was frigid and stiff. After some time, he watched village eat, the cavemen left and soon children began to run and play around the huts and in the river. Kpleeb watched the people come and go freely, and he deliriously day-dreamed of a cool drink. His eyes rose and looked for his friend Bre.

She had come to feed him every day since Molk threw Kpleeb into the river. It had only been two days, but Kpleeb was healing rapidly, and was starting to believe that the village did not think he was a spy. At least, neither Bre nor Kilow (the chief) seemed to think he was a spy. He was not sure what the children thought, but Molk still treated him with great disdain accompanied by copious verbal disparagement. Kpleeb was not sure why, but he considered that it might be his own average stature or lack of bravado.

Molk was typical. He was a huge caveman and layered with corded muscles. His personality exuded confidence, and in several interactions with others in the village, Kpleeb saw him switch from intimidation to jocular friendship in the blink of an eye. He was the total package, a regular stud-muffin, and there were a couple of the cavewomen that trained their doe-eyes on his manly form.

Kpleeb shook his head with underlying disgust. [I’m stuck between freedom and this beast.]

Bre had not petitioned for Kpleeb’s release, but he could see that she was gentle and kind natured. Chief Kilow seemed to be pragmatic and understanding of the manipulations required for leadership. Kilow had told Molk that Kpleeb could be killed later, but only if Molk could find more spies. Kpleeb had been glad for the delay in what he assumed was a slow and terribly painful death, but he was still bound to the pole and unsure how long his captivity would last. Molk arrived promptly each morning, slapped Kpleeb’s head very hard, and then laughed and called him weak.

Kpleeb simply endured. [He will get tired of this eventually. There will be a time to escape or repay Molk for his cruelty.]

Finally,Bre rounded the corner of a hut across the hard-packed dirt that surrounded the village center. She paused and looked both ways before approaching him. Kpleeb saw the face of another young woman peer around the corner of the hut behind Bre as she approached, but the head quickly disappeared once it saw that he was watching.

Bre knelt on the dirt in front of Kpleeb, and nodded at him. “You thirsty,” she said quietly. He had never heard her speak above the hushed tones that she used now. “Molk and others gone for day. Kilow say you wash.” Her eyes squinted as she stared sternly at him. “But no run. Say it.”

Kpleeb could see that she was serious. “I promise. No run,” he said hesitantly. “Hungry too.” He gestured with his hand to his mouth.

Bre stood and went to the other side of the pole.

Kpleeb could feel the cord shaking as she pulled it apart. His hands soon loosened and he brought them around to the front of his body and stretched his shoulders while kneading his muscles with his knuckles. Every joint ached. He looked down at his naked body. His skin was covered with streaks of mud with scuff marks randomly interspersed where Molk or others had kicked or hit him. He was too skinny, and he could see ribs through the tight skin on his abdomen.

“Loincloth?” He asked Bre. Molk had found that she had returned it to him and had taken it again and set it on top of the pole where only the tallest of cavemen could reach. Then he had kicked Bre hard enough to throw her down in the mud. If it had not been for Kilow stepping up to reprimand him, Molk might have kicked Bre again. He seemed to enjoy inflicting pain.

Bre shook her head as she looked up at his loincloth several feet above her head. “Cannot reach. Molk be mad.” She shrugged and pointed toward the river. Kpleeb stood clumsily and put his palms together over his privates. “Come,” said Bre as she took a step.

Kpleeb turned and followed, and felt the sun shine on his backside. The movement attracted the cavechildren, who’s shrill, warbling laughs brought the village women. They appeared in door frames and from behind the reed-walled huts to stare at him. He hung his head in shame as he walked quickly to where he knew he could hide.

“Sssst!” Bre hissed at him and stopped in her tracks with her palm toward him. She jutted her chin forward towards his chest. “You walk big, like strong caveman. Walk strong; be strong. Walk weak; be weak.”

Kpleeb could not believe his ears. “This is incredibly humiliating and rude!” he burst out quickly. “Where I am from, it’s embarrassing to stand naked in front of strangers. How can you tell me to be strong?” He felt his face flush from the frustration.

Bre cocked her head slightly to the side as if she was listening to the distant trill of a rare bird. She paused for a long moment and stared at him. When she spoke, she was matter of fact. “Strong or weak. You decide and act with choice.” She tapped the center of his forehead gently with the tip of her finger before swiveling around to continue the walk toward the river.

Kpleeb followed her without thinking. She walked slowly as if there was no reason to hurry, and he did not want to hurry past her and show his insecurity.

[Of course she isn’t in a hurry. She’s not the one naked! They wear loincloths here as well, so she must understand.] He sighed loudly. The river seemed so far away. [If I run past her to the water, then I can drink. I am so thirsty. But if I run, I will look weak, as if I am too afraid to be embarrassed. What if that is what she means?]

Bre and Kpleeb arrived at the river bank well before any particular conceptual pattern solidified in Kpleeb’s mind. He blinked as a deluge of chilly water crashed onto his feet. Bre was bending near the water; preparing her cupped palms for another throw.

“Urg, that’s cold!” Kpleeb said with a slight shock as his attention returned.

“Water more cold two moons past,” said Bre. “Forgot your shame?” Her head nodded toward his privates.

Kpleeb quickly covered them with his palms. A raging violet flush took over his face. “Urgh,” he stammered, “yes. I-, I was thinking.”

Bre smiled. “Thinking what?” She looked back the way they came. The path was long-ish and the other cavepeople had gone on their own way.

“I wanted to run to the river,”Kpleeb grunted with embarrassment, “but did not want to be weak.”

Bre nodded.

“If I run, I escape the shame. If I run, I bring more shame. Is that what you mean?” To Kpleeb it seemed like an obvious no-win situation. The only choice was to determine which shame was more bearable.

“Not what mean,” said Bre. “You stuck choosing. Weak is here.” She pointed at his head. “You walk to river no shame. Why? You forget shame, walk strong when forget.”

Kpleeb paused and closed his eyes. [I forgot where I was because I was preoccupied. I forgot the embarrassment.]

“Look,” Bre continued pointing toward the village. “You walk strong. All cavepeople forget. Walk pass quick. No shame!”

“But-” interrupted Kpleeb, “It’s only because I forgot. I can’t go through my life in deep thought and forgetting what is around me.”

Bre held up her hand and shook her head impatiently. Her hair frizzed, catching the light and appeared as a brown seedball from a tundra flower. “No forget.” She paused and her mouth worked slightly. Finally, after a moment she spoke again with certainty. “Shame in here,” she pointed at his forehead again. “Think shame, you shame. Think strong, you strong. You choose shame or choose no shame.” Her head tilted slightly. “Understand?”

Kpleeb stepped into the river carefully. He needed a moment to process what Bre meant.

“Sit,” said Bre as she pointed to the shallows. “Wash and think.” She bent down and pulled a handful of water to drink.

Kpleeb turned his back and took another few steps. The rocks underneath were flat, larger than his hands, and made a semi-comfortable resting spot when he eased himself slowly into the swirling water. After taking a moment to settle, he shivered a few times and then began to wash.

[Thoka is near. You have to keep your head, Kpleeb. You must escape and go to her. This is a dangerous place, no matter how friendly this one girl is. Bre does seem genuine. She is trying to help.]

He turned his head and saw that she had gone upstream and had begun to wash herself there.

[What does she mean though? I choose shame? I choose strength? Maybe she thinks shame is just in my head? When I forgot about it, I did walk without shame.]

Kpleeb felt two of his brain cells touch with an infinitesimal sizzle and dash of smoke. His nose-hairs twinged as his eyebrows shot up and he scrambled to his feet.

[She says I choose whether or not to feel shamed! It’s my choice to cower or to run ahead or to forget the shame and be strong.]

Water poured off of Kpleeb’s naked and somewhat cleaner body. He turned and looked at Bre. “You mean, shame is just in my mind! My actions decide the rest. Right?”

Bre stood gracefully, and the skin on her arms glistened and formed goose-bumps from the combination of breeze and moisture. Her face was open and friendly, but she did not appear to concern herself at all with the environment. “Yes, Kpleeb. Choose shame or choose strong.” She walked toward him, carefully placing her feet on the wet rocks. When she approached, she pointed at his cheek where Molk had crushed him. “You heal fast.”

Kpleeb raised his hand and touched his cheek where the gash had been laid open just two days before. The skin was closed and tight, but he could feel the ridge where it had been. He pressed experimentally with the pad of his index finger and found that there was almost no pain. [Wow.]

“I feel very good now. Molk did not hurt me bad.”

Bre brushed away his finger and placed her own there. She slowly traced the line. It was only half a finger’s length, but her fingernail tickled as it brushed his skin.

Kpleeb shivered.

“Molk hit hard. You bleed bad,” she said. “You heal more fast than Molk.” Her eyes scoured the rest of his wounds with interest.

Kpleeb shrugged with a false humility. “I’m just lucky.”

“I talk with Kilow. Maybe Qui favor you.” Bre squinted up at his face. Her green eyes sparkling with curiosity. “We go now.” She turned quickly and began walking back to the village.

Kpleeb watched her for a few seconds. Her efficient gait was fascinating. He had thought that Qui might be Kilow’s husband, but now he was not so sure. [Favored by Qui? Maybe he is a brother to the great spirit Tahr. This would be a big deal for me.]

He followed Bre back to the village. As he drew closer, more heads appeared around the edges of the huts, and cavechildren began to congregate. Kpleeb felt the growing pressure, and gave in. He placed his palms over his privates, and in only a few seconds, a tiny cavegirl warbled in laughter. A caveboy next to her pointed at Kpleeb with his knuckle and chimed in with his own voice. By the time Kpleeb reached the pole, there were no fewer than twelve cavechildren following him, and the air was filled with their incessant chortling.

Kpleeb hung his head and sat down cross-legged in front of the pole with his back to the sun. In a moment he felt a nudge on his forehead and lifted it to see if Molk had some back to beat him again.

Bre tapped his forehead with her fingertip and smiled. “I get food,” she said as she turned away.

Kpleeb held his head up and glared at the cavechildren. He was not bound, at least not for the moment. [Maybe I should rise and flog these little twirps. It would serve them right.] He sighed. The village would kill him for sure if he beat up their brats. He needed to escape in order to return to Thoka.

[Escape. Why didn’t I think of that before now? Bre is not strong enough to keep me here, and I am not bound.]

He looked around to see if anyone was watching, but there were no adults in sight. The few cavechildren that had been chuckling at his expense had tired of their laughter and had begun to walk away to replenish their mouths with new ridicule.

[This is my chance. Time to take it.]

Kpleeb jumped up and ran toward the river with the longest, bounding strides he could muster. He was moving fast and had just about reached the water when he heard the first, thin shouts from the children. He was five great leaps into the river before he heard the first cavewoman yell. There followed a piercing sort of whistle that could certainly be heard for quite some distance. Kpleeb kept on, and the water began to catch his legs. He tripped as he reached the middle, and the water covered him. He was surprised at how wide, and deep the river was here. The roar, breath-taking chill, and rapid pace of the water caught him and pulled him under.

The Index -|-

Kpleeb groaned and lifted his head. It was still dark, and he heard the nearby snoring of a caveman. Kpleeb’s neck ached from where he had slept slumped against the rough pole that he was bound to and partially supported by the rough, woven cord. His wrists tingled, and so he wriggled his hands in an effort to restore some blood flow. The benefit was minimal, at best. Numerous cuts and wounds were portrayed on his body as though a mad painter had lost control with a bucket of red and black. He winced as he leaned his head against the pole.

[I hope Thoka is okay. I should have been more careful. What will she do without me?]

Kpleeb had not seriously thought about other tribes or peoples that might populate this place, where, or how strong they might be. He did think of those things now, but it was too late. He took inventory of his wounds. The knot on his head throbbed gently, and he assumed that it would go away in a few days. His heels were sore and bruised from being dragged. He did not remember that part, of course, on account of the stick that had knocked him out and caused the headache that now pained him. He looked around and could see the faint shadow of the closest hut.

The caveman that now slept had been one of the few that was assigned to extract information from Kpleeb. He was a brutal and angry caveman. And he smelled terrible. Yesterday, when Kpleeb had regained consciousness, he had been already tied to the pole that was located in the center of the village. Cavemen, cavewomen, and cavechildren surrounded him at various distances. All of the children were naked and filthy. They scampered around excitedly and watched as the warriors tore away Kpleeb’s loincloth. The older children had thrown small stones at him and laughed in an odd, high-pitched warble.

Cavewomen dressed only in skin loincloths stood in the back and whispered together while they watched as the cavemen began to question him. Once he had awakened, Kpleeb had stood slowly under his own power and gritted his teeth against the pain. His intention had been to speak and reason with the group, but a few of the cavemen began beating him immediately. They did not ask him any questions or seek any answers.

“Stop!” grunted Kpleeb. “Why are you hurting me?”

His words were ignored. A hairy caveman foot connected with Kpleeb’s hip and shoved him backward into the pole. The wood was very rough, and Kpleeb felt the skin abrade on his shoulder. The kick was followed by a fist to the side of his head. It was a glancing blow, but his vision swam. The blows fell quicker as others joined in, and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, Kpleeb’s labored breathing, and cries of pain drowned out the murmuring crowd.

Kpleeb could not withstand the onslaught. He fell to his knees and then was able to curl his legs in front of him. With his hands tied behind his back around the pole, the cavemen kicked and punched him until he lost consciousness.

That was yesterday. Now, he was awake again, and it was dark and cool. The early morning air caressed his skin, and though the dull pain hovered behind the sensation, he breathed deeply and enjoyed the peace. He had no idea why they would attack him, and he was afraid.

[I did not fight back. How could I? Maybe I trespassed.]

He remembered tales of raiding parties on the tundra. It was said that many cavemen had fallen and some were taken prisoner. As a cavechild Kpleeb had never been sure why the raids happened, but he had asked his Da when he got a little older.

“Bad caveman come. They watch and steal. We war and kill. They no come again.”

His Da had never looked more serious, but the explanation had fallen short for Kpleeb at the time. As he grew older, he saw the actions of his own tribe, became familiar with the ebb and flow of conflict and peace between the tribes. Looking back, he could now pinpoint nuance that he had been oblivious to then. Now he finally understood.

[I wonder if I now understand because I was altered? Maybe every caveman is the same through all of time? People fear what they do not know. There is no trust, and so they strike first… But why would they beat me without asking questions? Maybe they are cannibals? – I hope not.]

Kpleeb sighed and tugged at the rope on his wrists. It was no use. He could do nothing but wait, endure, and hope that Thoka had not been captured as well.

The sun rose slowly above the trees and huts that were in front of him. It was quite beautiful. Shades of deep red blossomed and transformed into brighter, more golden tones that pierced the canopy and warmed his face. The sky progressed from midnight to a friendly, pale blue that promised beautiful weather. Kpleeb enjoyed every second, but his dread grew as well. He feared this new day would extend the torture of yesterday.

Soon, there was a trickle of people. They came and went, first one hurrying for a morning urination. Then two, three, five more. Cavechildren strolled awkwardly out from the doors of huts sporting sleepy eyes and matted hair. They stretched and started scurrying about quickly as soon as they remembered the naked stranger tied up in the village circle. The men followed with well-rested swaggers that implied strength and boasted of future beatings for anyone who dared cross their path.

Kpleeb watched the crowd gather, and as he heard the coarse muttering, he was reminded again of the changes he had gone through in the twin caves. He remembered who he had been and how he had once spoken.

“I not want to fight,” said Kpleeb haltingly as he looked up at the burly caveman who was clearly a leader of some sort.

“You bad fighter,” the caveman grunted. “Even Joop win fight with you.” He pointed at a scrawny caveman with a spotty beard and concave chest. “Why you here? What you want with Canyon River land?” The big caveman crossed his arms, and his peck muscles bounced impressively.

Kpleeb nodded. “I am Kpleeb. I run from bad tribe.” He pointed toward the canyon. “Above canyon.”

“You are spy!” the caveman snarled. “You lie. You come steal and watch for war. Canyon River tribe is strong warrior and not stupid.” He shook his head and scoffed as if Kpleeb had embarrassed him.

“No,” said Kpleeb. “Not lie. I want to live. Bad caveman want to kill me.” He hung his head with a mixture of false weakness and legitimate frustration.

[It’s no use. These people are too embedded in their ways.] His head hurt, and he was so thirsty.

“I need water. Please.”

The big caveman laughed loudly and pointed at Kpleeb. “Weak caveman need water. HA!”

An older cavewoman stepped up and spoke quietly. “Molk, give man water. If he dies, Qui will be angry.”

Molk glared at the woman. “Qui not want warrior to be weak. Qui not want cavechildren to die from outsider.”

The cavewoman nodded. “You give him water. You look for more caveman spy. If find more,” she pointed at Kpleeb with her knuckle, “come kill this one.”

Molk nodded gruffly and growled. He pulled a large, stone knife from his waistband and roughly slashed the rope that held Kpleeb’s hands. Molk and another of his bulky brethren grabbed Kpleeb. Each took an arm and a leg and carried him past the outer ring of huts to the river where they threw him into the fast-running water at the edge.

Kpleeb gasped as he splashed into the chilly water and then grunted as he hit the rocks below. He flailed his arms and righted himself then sat on his haunches. The cold water exasperated his wounds, but he was grateful for the numbness that quickly followed. The water that flowed toward him was clear, but it became cloudy with dirt and blood as it passed his beaten body.

The crowd had followed the men to the river and stood watching. All of the warriors were laughing boisterously and clapping each other on the back. “Good water!” yelled Molk. “Drink, weak one!”

Kpleeb did drink, and it was good water indeed. He bathed himself carefully, and wondered if he could get his loincloth back. Being a caveman, he was used to loincloths and the ways that breezes, water, and gravity occasionally introduced an unexpected view of stranger’s private anatomy. That being said, his mam had taught him that the loincloth was what separated caveman from animal. He felt funny without it.

Molk approached. “You come back now.” He reached down and grasped Kpleeb’s arm and began to lift him.

Kleeb cried out. “Ow! My arm hurts!” Then he saw the older woman gesture to a group of women and say something that he could not hear.

“You weak goat sak,” said Molk. He slapped the back of Kpleeb’s head with a muskrat-sized hand and then jerked Kpleeb’s arm to pull him along. Kpleeb’s battered legs wanted to hobble slowly, but Molk’s size and strength brought them quickly back to the pole. There Kpleeb was unceremoniously bound again. He hunched on the ground and waited for the next indignity to fall upon him.

Molk and a few of the other cavemen crowded around and began to make plans to search the trail again. Their conversation was accentuated with wide sweeps and thrusts of the hands. A few of the cavemen shook their heads in disagreement and pointed east toward the rising sun. As they spoke, a girl approached Kpleeb from behind and shoved a piece of tuber into his face.

“Eat,” she said. Her eyes flitted nervously toward the group of cavemen.

Kpleeb ate the tasteless, mushy tuber and stared at the girl. She appeared to be a little younger than him. Her hair was dirt brown and straggly. She had a pointy chin, high cheekbones and full lips. What caught Kpleeb’s attention was her eyes. They were green and curious. Most of all, she did not look at him with hate or disgust. Her eyes examined him and gathered information.

“I am Kpleeb,” he said, trying to gesture with his bound hands.

“Bre– You take.” She tossed his loincloth into his lap and continued looking at his body.

Kpleeb chewed for a few seconds and continued to look at her. “Thank you.”

A hefty palm abruptly cuffed Bre on the head. “No food,” yelled Molk. “He spy. Go!” He pointed toward the group of women that crowded around one of the reed huts.

Kpleeb watched Bre flee. [Well, she is quite nice. The food could be better though.]

As he was distracted, the same wide hand made a fist and clubbed his jaw with a terrible jolt. The world spun underneath him. His vision dulled and then brightened. He saw the sky and Molk’s silhouette rotate. Just as he felt the dirt on his cheek, his sight went black.

The Index -|-

Thoka rested in the sun. Though the climate in this place was cool – at least at the moment – she was comfortable in the sun. She scooted down to sit on a pile of leaves and rested against the larger stone. After a few minutes the breeze, trickling water, and sunlight put her to sleep.

Clouds rolled in and covered the river. It boiled with a severe turbulence and became a denser fog. The river still made its muted sounds, and there were the sounds of distant branches swaying in the wind. Thoka looked up from her work and took notice.

[I must finish this rod. Time for searching later.]

She bent her head and saw the partially finished rod in her hand. Its base was made of stone shaped into a sort of loop-handle. Three tiny fragments of stone protruded from the edge away from her hand. The first one was about the thickness of one of Thoka’s fine, pale hair. The second one was a little thicker, and the third was as thick as a tundra-wheat stalk. The thicker rod was bent at a ninety-degree angle a finger’s length from the base. The thin rods each had their own unique curves, the first as a sinuous line that approached but did not touch the thick rod and the second with a series of sharp angles that encircled the first and thinnest rod.

Thoka nodded. There was a deep part of her that sensed the structure in this design. Energy ebbed from the rod in long and slow waves. She held the rod up to the sun and the clouds gave way to let the sun shine onto the rod. It glistened as if covered in the morning’s dew. She felt a light flutter as the baby kicked.

“Okay, little one,” she sing-songed quietly. Her hand absently caressed her belly as she examined the rod.

The lowered her hand and the fog swirled around it. It had not been that close before, at least, she did not think it had been. She raised her hand in front of her and the fog parted again. Directly in front of the rod was a tunnel that penetrated the fog. Through the tunnel she could see the other side of the river. The trees there were as clear as day and their boughs gentle swayed in the sun. A bird chirped happily and took flight from one of the branches.

[This must be a… No don’t say it!] She shook her head and focused on the tunnel. [What does it mean?] The tunnel simply moved with the rod. [Simply.] She chuckled at the word. Her hand twisted, but she saw no change. Something inside compelled her to believe that there was more to this moment than she could understand. She heard a rustle nearby, and her focus shifted from the tunnel. She peered over her shoulder, but the fog prevented her from seeing the source.

The rustle grew louder, closer. It sounded as if there were feet on dried leaves. Many feet. These were the footsteps of careless walking with no attempt as stealth. Thoka dropped the rod and swiveled to grab the knife that was near her feet.

Her head jerked as she awakened and it sharply struck the rock that she had rested against. “Ow!” she cried out. She put her fingers on the back of her head gingerly and felt a knot growing.

“Curse these dreams,” she muttered to herself.

Thoka held her breath and listened. There were no footsteps. The only dried leaves were collected in the nooks and crannies of the roots, rocks, and dead branches that made up the forest floor. Any leaves that had not been found by the sun were covered in a thin layer of snow. She looked across the river where she had gazed in her dream. The evergreen branches there were still, and the forest past those trees was hidden.

She sighed and looked up at the sun. It was not quite mid-day, and she was becoming seriously hungry. Her stomach grumbled.

[Okay, Kpleeb, where is my fish? I wonder if he forgot how to spear fish after all that time in the caves.] She sighed and reminded herself. [There is no point in being petty just because you’re hungry, Thoka.]

Her stomach growled again, and she began to shape a piece of yellow stone in order to take her mind off the hunger. Eventually, she made the base of the rod she had dreamt of, and began to work on the stone needles that protruded from the base.

Thoka waited until the sun was past its peak before allowing herself to worry. She attached the dream rod to her stone bracelet with a loop. She stood and walked down the river bank in the direction that Kpleeb had traveled. The path was rocky and littered with boulders from the size of field mice up to the size of a tundra-yak’s head. The river was loud, and she was reminded of a waterfall near her village in the wet mountains. The incessant roar filled a gap in the mind that was simultaneously soothing and distracting. After a few minutes, she spotted three fish on a forked branch that was laying on a large, flat rock next to the river. She stopped walking immediately and examined the river and surrounding forest.

As expected, there was nothing out of the ordinary. There was no movement in the trees on either side of the river. She approached the fish and knelt to touch them. The fish were fresh, and she dipped the end of the branch in a shallow nook so that the water would keep them cool. Along the bank next to the river she saw a footprint impressed into the dirt.

[It could be Kpleeb’s. That’s about his size. Those would be his fish too.]

Thoka shoved down her rapidly mounting concern and began to search. [If he has been here, there will be more clues. I just have to find them… Maybe he is just taking a nap.]

She slowly walked along the river bank in both directions looking for Kpleeb, but he was not to be found, even though she looked into the trees. Eventually she returned to the fish and looked across the river.

[He could have put the fish down in order to cross.]

There was nothing visible on the other side of the river, but the tree branches hung low over the water and blocked any potential view. Thoka could tell that the water was shallow here, at least not above her waist. It was tumultuous and fast moving, which concerned her.

[What if he was swept under?]

Fear bubbled up in her throat as she imagined Kpleeb being tugged into the cold water and battered on stones until he drowned, alone and out of sight forever.

[Get a grip… Get a grip. For all I know, he is just hunting and will be back soon…. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look some more.]

Thoka found a long stick that she could use to maintain her footing. She stepped into the water, and maneuvered the stick downstream at an angle until it was stuck to the stream bed ahead of her. She could not see the bottom of the river, but the stick indicated that the river was not very deep. Every step was painstakingly navigated by feel with the soles of her feet acting as her eyes in the murky water. She slipped after just two steps as her right foot landed on a slick, angled stone. Her ankle and foot sunk into a crevasse between two rocks and stayed there.

Back home on the wet mountain, Thoka had been known as a tough young cavewoman that would take on anything. She had forded rivers, hunted, and participated in most of the activities that were available to her, even if they were generally the domain of the cavemen. She was well rounded and could handle herself well. This river crossing reminded her of the traditional wet mountain tribe swimming lessons.

Every spring, when the rivers were bursting with water from the mountain’s peak, the tribe would select the cavechildren that were taller than the lowest branch on the Tilok tree. Those cavechildren would be taken to a certain section of the river and unceremoniously thrown in. Thoka had realized when she was older that it was not an act of cruelty. The section of river was the easy part. It had fewer rocks, a slower pace, and ended in a ford where the adults could catch the kids.

It was, in fact, a setup. The children tried, and the adults watched and cheered for the best. Everyone lived, but those who swam to the bank before reaching the ford were lifted on the shoulders and carried loudly into the village. It was a coveted place to be. Thoka had won the prize every spring until she reached her womanhood and became one of the adults. After that, she had been beat every time, but had still managed to take second place once.

Needless to say, Thoka had been through rivers and could swim very well. She had twisted her ankles on under-water rocks, and had still managed to win. The problem with this situation was that the river was too shallow to swim. It was less of a river and more of a treacherous underwater mine-field through which she much pick her way.

[Calm and gentle.] She held herself in position with the stick, and carefully extracted her foot. It would be sore later for certain, but it was not broken. Soon, with a fresh respect for the size, shape, and slickness of the river rocks, she was across the river and ducking under the evergreen branches. The forest beyond the river bank was carpeted in a thick, brown coat of dried needles that deadened sound. It was peaceful in the eerie way of an underground tomb.

The sound of the river reduced as Thoka stepped further into the forest. There was almost no underbrush, and a natural space between the trees was enough to walk easily. The branches had kept most of the snow from accumulating under the trees. When she looked straight ahead, she saw an endless sea of craggy, brown bark, but she knew that the canyon was not very wide. The cliff must begin to ascend nearby. After only a short walk, barely twice the width of the river, Thoka stepped into a space that was more open and decidedly unnatural in its configuration. It was a path.

Thoka stopped and looked in each direction, then realizing what a path meant, she backed up and crouched next to a medium-sized tree. Her mind flooded with questions.

[A path means cavepeople, right?] She paused her line of thinking and realized that her most recent experiences taught her to expand her mental image of the world. [A path means people…. or something alive with legs and feet. Is it made by animals? Where does it lead? Was Kpleeb here? I am on foreign ground and must be very careful.]

After a few minutes of watching silently, she believed that she had examined all of the nooks and crannies of the forest around her. There were no hidden caves or people that she could see, and there was no movement or extraneous noise to indicate the presence of any living being. There was nothing but the beating of her heart, her breath, and the faint gurgle of water from behind her. Finally, she willed herself to move.

[You will discover nothing without looking.]

After placing two small rocks at the base of the tree as a landmark, she stepped cautiously onto the path and walked to her left, in the river’s upstream direction. The surface was worn enough that a yellow-brown dirt showed through the detritus scattered on the forest floor. Thoka walked for several minutes, careful to remain silent and watchful. There were no footprints, animal or otherwise. The trail edges were wide unlike the paths usually made by animals. Occasionally she found a broken twig, but there were very few clues.

Disheartened at the total lack of useful information, Thoka turned around and proceeded in the other direction. Soon, she passed the tree she had marked and continued on. A few steps down the path she saw scuffed dirt on the path and stopped. Here there were odd marks in the dirt and signs of a struggle in the ground cover. From that spot there was a long and seemingly unending mark of something being dragged down the trail.

Thoka examined the surroundings closely. There were still no footprints; the ground cover prevented distinct impressions. She did find a small wad of spit that contained blood stuck near the base of a tree.

[Could it be Kpleeb’s? Surely, he would not win a fight against any person stronger than himself. Despite all of his personality and brains, he is not a natural warrior. He could run… but not if caught by surprise. Hmm, I have never seen him run either. He might be slow.]

Quietly she continued her trek in the downstream direction. The river was a constant presence to her right, and eventually she encountered a miniscule stream that fed into the river from somewhere to her left, near the canyon wall. There she saw footprints in the mud that confirmed her fears. She counted the toes.

[There are people here. Are they dangerous?]

Thoka thought back to her tribe in the wet mountains. There had been several instances where a stranger was found lurking near the edge of village, and each time, the warriors had captured and brought the stranger in. There were times when the capture was difficult and someone was injured. She had asked about it once, and her ma explained that though the wet mountain tribe was peaceful, they had to be careful. Some outsiders were captured while spying or planning a theft. “Peace requires vigilance,” she muttered to herself. “It will be no different here.”

After drinking and confirming that she had left no mark in the wet dirt, she continued on the path for some time until she heard unexpected sounds echoing from a rock face. Thoka quickly ducked behind a dense shrub and waited. After a few seconds she heard it again. It was the cry of a playful child. She warily made her way toward the canyon wall. The slope began to steepen, and eventually she placed her hand on the cliff’s face. To her right was a large, grey boulder spotted with moss. She went to it and peeked over.

In the distance, mostly obscured by trees, was a collection of huts. The silver thread of river glinted through in places, but for the most part, she could not see any real detail. She heard a faint laugh again, and knew that there were children there.

[Children follow adults. I must get closer to see if Kpleeb is there.]

An itch tickled her mind, and she remembered her dream. Taking the stone rod away from her bracelet, she looked at the tiny protrusions. It was not complete, at least not to match what she had seen in the vivid dream. She hunkered down next to the rock and began to fashion the rest of the rod.

She hurried, and though she saw small differences between the dream rod and what she remembered, she felt a great deal of internal pressure to find Kpleeb. The sun was now well past its peak, and she knew that she needed to return and eat the fish she had left in the pool. Standing, Thoka held the dream rod in her hand and pointed it at the village. The air shimmered slightly in front of her, and a faint tunnel appeared. Though there were waves of blurriness and a faint echo of sound, she could see a closer view of the village and the shapes of people working.

For several minutes she experimented with the position of her head and hands and found that bringing the dream rod closer to her eye would increase its magnification but also increased the blur that pervaded her view. The sound echoing through the tunnel seemed unaffected by her tests, but there was nothing except the occasional laugh or muffled murmur. Eventually, Thoka saw a procession of caveman forms bring out a person that was bound and walked erratically between guards. There was a burst of sound as several voices cheered.

She focused her dream rod and eyes on the bound form and moved her arm into different positions that might facilitate her view.

[Terrible blur,] she thought with frustration. The form could be a caveman or cavewoman. All she could see was that it was roughly the same size as the others, and was topped with a dark smudge. Thoka sighed and waited. After a few moments, one of the guards moved sharply and there was a cry.

“No, no. You must believe me! I am alone!”

[It is him- just stay alive, Kpleeb, and I will save you!]