Her feet swished through the soft jungle grasses, matted above the ever-muddy soil. One slip, and she could find herself at the bottom of the river or, worse, sliding into the caiman's lair. She missed her home, where she had grown up, far away from this jungle, buzzing with insects that burrowed into her hair and swarmed around her eyes. Even so, it had been bearable up until that morning. Because up until that morning, she had still had him.
Treading as quickly as caution would allow, she leaped from grassy knoll to rotten log to where her feet finally landed on the path again. The jungle always looked the same to her--trees and vines and grasses and mud in every direction. Human things, this road, held more familiarity for her. Hadn't they passed this way before?
There, around the bend! An old outbuilding that she recognized. Maybe he had come this way. She called for him, her voice ringing out clear, even through the tangle of the jungle; it was something her mother had taught her, a call that she had practiced. It was a call that he knew.
He stopped to rest for a moment, to regain his strength. How long had it been? No more than a few hours, but what could happen in a few hours here, in the unfamiliar, where every rock hid a snake and every leaf you ate could be the death of you? The thought of it drove him up again. Though his fear drove him, more than his loneliness, he forced himself to run with the same caution that his father and brothers had driven into him.
Trotting like this, the rare jungle breeze blowing through his hair, tugging at his beard, he could easily push his thoughts of fear from his mind. Despite the dangers, he had come to love this forest, to the point that he had even convinced her of its beauty as well. He just hoped that he would be able to share those beauties with her for years to come . . . .
A breeze blew past again, carrying the scents of civilization. His heavy feet clopped onto the flagstones, and then another sound rode the gentle wind to his ears. He waited, not convinced it had been real (he had been hearing it in his head all day long). But no, it sounded again, this time clear and strong: her voice, his name.
She sat in the shade of a palm to rest, away from the heat of the cinderblock building, roofed in metal, boiling like an oven. What she wouldn't have given for a mouthful of cool, clean water to ease her voice so that she could call again. Perhaps she should risk the caiman's wrath again. In her exhaustion, she said his name again, as if to the wind, a last grasp at hope.
He strode around the building, confident and calm as ever, his stride even and strong. She ran to him, flew to him, her joy carrying her back into his presence. Only the composed smile that crossed his face betrayed any emotion to the outside observer, but to her eyes, she knew what that smile meant, and that was all that mattered.
Fin.
This is a story that I have written about chivos. Here are the main characters of the story:
One day she was sad because she couldn't find him. She called and called, wandering around next to the little stream that goes by the caiman's enclosure. When he heard her, he trotted confidently over to her and made her feel all better.
..kirstie..
Treading as quickly as caution would allow, she leaped from grassy knoll to rotten log to where her feet finally landed on the path again. The jungle always looked the same to her--trees and vines and grasses and mud in every direction. Human things, this road, held more familiarity for her. Hadn't they passed this way before?
There, around the bend! An old outbuilding that she recognized. Maybe he had come this way. She called for him, her voice ringing out clear, even through the tangle of the jungle; it was something her mother had taught her, a call that she had practiced. It was a call that he knew.
---
He stopped to rest for a moment, to regain his strength. How long had it been? No more than a few hours, but what could happen in a few hours here, in the unfamiliar, where every rock hid a snake and every leaf you ate could be the death of you? The thought of it drove him up again. Though his fear drove him, more than his loneliness, he forced himself to run with the same caution that his father and brothers had driven into him.
Trotting like this, the rare jungle breeze blowing through his hair, tugging at his beard, he could easily push his thoughts of fear from his mind. Despite the dangers, he had come to love this forest, to the point that he had even convinced her of its beauty as well. He just hoped that he would be able to share those beauties with her for years to come . . . .
A breeze blew past again, carrying the scents of civilization. His heavy feet clopped onto the flagstones, and then another sound rode the gentle wind to his ears. He waited, not convinced it had been real (he had been hearing it in his head all day long). But no, it sounded again, this time clear and strong: her voice, his name.
---
She sat in the shade of a palm to rest, away from the heat of the cinderblock building, roofed in metal, boiling like an oven. What she wouldn't have given for a mouthful of cool, clean water to ease her voice so that she could call again. Perhaps she should risk the caiman's wrath again. In her exhaustion, she said his name again, as if to the wind, a last grasp at hope.
He strode around the building, confident and calm as ever, his stride even and strong. She ran to him, flew to him, her joy carrying her back into his presence. Only the composed smile that crossed his face betrayed any emotion to the outside observer, but to her eyes, she knew what that smile meant, and that was all that mattered.
Fin.
- --- -
This is a story that I have written about chivos. Here are the main characters of the story:
 |
| Her |
 |
| Him |
..kirstie..
Beautiful! I must admit, too, I was convinced Kirstie was lost in the jungle and Isaac was coming to the rescue!
ReplyDeleteThanks!
ReplyDeleteI am smarter than the lady chivo...
:)
..kirstie..
I must make an amendment here: these are actually a short-hair variety of sheep, not chivos. Regardless, everyone calls them chivos, so the post will remain as it is.
ReplyDelete..kirstie..