She dreamed. Mama offered Scarface a fig, then crouched before him, presenting her pink sexual swelling. Scarface obligingly coupled with her. Suddenly Wind-in-the-Eyes appeared and attacked Mama with claws and teeth like a big cat’s. Scarface fled. The body of Wind-in-the-Eyes became a snake and wrapped around Mama, crushing her. Then Wind-in-the-Eyes’ jaw came unhinged and stretched grotesquely wide, closing over Mama’s skull with a horrible crunch. Eve started awake, sick with horror. She sensed the Beast waiting for her in the forest, but she knew now what she needed to do.
* * *
The voice of the river no longer comforted Eve as it once had. The presence of the Beast saturated the forest. The air hung heavy with the scent of fear and death. Eve carried oysters in each hand and another in her mouth, but she didn’t eat them, even though she found little to sustain her on her journey. Other foragers had long since stripped most of the trees and bushes of anything edible. The river valley had become overburdened, no longer capable of supporting the number of refugees crowding into its narrow confines. Those species which depended on vegetation for food began starving and doing greater damage to the rainforest than decades of drought. Those which could survive on flesh feasted, but their time of attrition would come too.
A faint sound froze Eve in her tracks. Another rustle came from the bushes, then a streak of spotted lightning burst from hiding and charged her. She dropped her burden, screaming in terror, and bolted for safety in the upper branches. The leopard hesitated to sniff an oyster. It smelled like food. He flipped one over and took it in his mouth, but the shell baffled him. His teeth were not designed for cracking such defenses. He licked the salt from it, then gazed up at Eve speculatively. She climbed with strength and vigor. The forest harbored many weaker victims. He slouched away silently and disappeared into the brush, but Eve stayed in the tree for the rest of the afternoon. When evening came, she built herself a night nest, descending only long enough to retrieve her shellfish. One of them reeked of cat and she almost abandoned it. Instead, she cracked it open and ate it.
* * *
The next afternoon Eve heard the familiar calls of Branchbreaker’s tribe. She approached silently, listening to pinpoint the location of individuals. Despite her caution, her first encounter came by surprise. Digger saw her coming and hooted softly. He sat alone, high in a fig tree, so she settled below and waited. He climbed down slowly, bristling with uncertainty. He also had matured, but he looked far too thin. A raw wound disfigured his shoulder. An aggressive attempt to usurp authority had recently earned violent retaliation from Branchbreaker, backed by Monkey-killer, so Digger lived in temporary exile. He touched Eve’s bottom, just beginning to swell pink again, then sniffed his finger. She handed him an oyster. He examined it carefully, then gave it back to her. Using a log as an anvil, Eve cracked the shell and offered him the prize. He sniffed it, tasted it cautiously, then wolfed it down and begged for more. She led him away toward the river, and Digger followed willingly. Eve fed him another oyster and led him on, farther downstream. Two days later she came into full estrus, and any faint reluctance he might have felt at leaving familiar territory evaporated.
* * *
Digger watched Eve wading through the surf, searching for edibles. With the tide high, he felt hesitant to join her in the water. Her estrus had ended, but the sea provided such a rich banquet, Digger felt content to remain as her companion. In fact, Eve would not come into estrus again for four years or more, for a new cycle of life had begun within her. Digger sprawled in the soft sand, waiting for Eve to bring him a portion of her catch. Just beyond his head, the sand heaved. Unaware, he dozed on. The sand shifted, dimpled, and something emerged. It rested for a moment, then made a mad dash for the sea. The sudden movement startled Digger and he leaped to his feet with a scream of fright. Eve paused and looked shoreward, but she saw no danger, so she went back to her foraging.
Digger followed the miniature turtle to the edge of the surf, and watched it plunge in, struggling against the waves that wanted to toss it back. When he looked back at the beach, four more scrambled over the sand. He picked one up and examined it closely, tested its shell. Near-starvation made him far less selective in his eating habits. The turtle smelled like food and its shell seemed soft enough, so he ate it, then went hunting for more. He dug in the sand and uncovered a trove of hundreds of succulent turtle eggs. That day he ate well and watched hundreds of baby turtles complete their pilgrimage to the sea.
* * *
Eve stood upright, supported by the water, and hitched her baby a little higher. She waded deeper and he clung to her head hair, peering over her shoulder to watch as she hammered limpets loose from the rocks and ate them. With Little-Gull, her second infant, almost six months old, Eve had grown adept at keeping both their heads above the surface. Her daughter, Salty, grew up in the surf, and knew no fear of water, for she could swim before she could walk
Screams of fear and excitement drew Eve’s attention, and she splashed shoreward. Salty met her on the beach, shivering and grinning nervously. They exchanged a reassuring caress, then the youngster dashed off again to watch Seedeater and Shiny greet the newcomers. Three years ago, Digger began wandering off periodically, each time returning many days later accompanied by a new consort. Seedeater and her adolescent son, Cliff-climber, came first. Eve welcomed their companionship, and eight months later Seedeater gave birth to a daughter, Monkey-face. Digger grew restless again and disappeared a year later, returning with Sleeps-in-the-Sand, and six months after that he introduced the group to Begs-for-Food and her five-year-old daughter, Cries-in-the-Night. Now each of the adult females carried an infant that bore Digger’s genetic heritage, and Digger had once more come back from wandering. Once again, he brought company. This time, his companion was Honeysuckle. She looked emaciated and nervous, hanging back as Eve embraced Digger in greeting. No adolescent youngster trailed after Honeysuckle. Over the years she had given birth four times, but none of her infants survived past their first weeks. With her spirit crushed, her own survival in the changing environment seemed nothing short of miraculous.
Cliff-Climber circled around behind her and sniffed at her still-pink bottom. Honeysuckle yelped and spun defensively to face him. Digger immediately went to her and began grooming her reassuringly. The others wandered away to take up their interrupted business, but Eve continued to sit nearby. She waited until Honeysuckle relaxed, calmed by Digger’s gentle ministrations. Then Eve reached out and touched her hand in the same gesture of friendship they had shared years ago.
Cliff-Climber abruptly began hooting again and running back down the beach with his hair on end. A few yards behind him, Branchbreaker emerged from the thick brush and grass along the edge of the sand. While he paused to survey the scene, Wind-in-the-Eyes appeared next to him. She looked lean, but far better fed than her companion. Digger rose immediately, bristling, and began a wild, charging display. Without further ceremony, Branchbreaker attacked. Sand and limbs flying in an explosion of fury, they bit and gouged and pounded each other. Parting briefly, they crashed together again with a resounding roar. The battle raged back and forth along the strand, with the spectators screaming encouragement. Wind-in-the-Eyes watched in stony silence as her son slowly began to give ground, then finally broke away and retreated. If a stranger had tried to usurp leadership, the group might have contested the outcome, but as a splinter group from Branchbreaker’s original tribe, they accepted him without protest. Only Eve moved to comfort the defeated.
With the leadership secured, Wind-in-the-Eyes moved with queenly confidence to take her rightful place as alpha female, and none dared to challenge her. Honeysuckle looked around wildly for a place of refuge and finally realized none existed.
* * *
Honeysuckle screamed as Wind-in-the-Eyes rushed her. She retreated rapidly until waves lapped around her legs, then panicked at the touch of the water and bolted for the rocky headland. Honeysuckle had lost her nerve long a
go, and she remained ill equipped to survive in this new environment. She seemed afraid of everything…the waves, the gulls which swooped overhead, the crabs that pinched curious fingers. Even the cloud shadows scudding across the sand made her jump and shiver.
From a place apart, Digger watched the tyrants of his childhood dominate the little tribe he had built. Eve leaned her chin on his shoulder and sifted through his pelt comfortingly, but nothing could lift the gloom which surrounded him. He sat and glowered at his enemies. Any loyalty he once felt toward his mother had long since evaporated. A competent parent, she nevertheless lacked some spark of emotion. The deficiency in her caused a weakness in him, and under normal circumstances, he would never have risen to an alpha position. But in his small tribe of females and adolescents he had faced no competition. Though younger and stronger than Branchbreaker, Digger lacked the advantage of experience, self-confidence, and most importantly, a domineering attitude.
Wind-in-the-Eyes abruptly attacked Seedeater, who peacefully picked through a pile of seaweed looking for edible tidbits. Seedeater scrambled away, but Wind-in-the-Eyes caught little Monkey-face by one leg, wrenched her off her mother’s shoulders and bit her on the back. Seedeater leaped to defend her offspring, biting and scratching, forcing Wind-in-the-Eyes to release the youngster. Branchbreaker loped over and broke up the quarrel, chasing Seedeater into the tide and disciplining Wind-in-the-Eyes with a cuff across the ear. She reared up and roared in his face, an act so unnatural in a female that he hesitated, taken aback. Then Wind-in-the-Eyes suddenly realized she had gone too far and bolted for the safety of the tangled brush with Branchbreaker pounding vengefully at her heels.
Eve left Digger brooding. With Little Gull clinging to her mane, she swam out to the rocky island that had become her refuge. Here she remained safe, distanced from the tensions and turmoil that had invaded her paradise, beyond reach of the usurpers. No other member of the tribe dared to brave the deep water except Salty, who was born to it. But as always, the sea receded and a long sandy spit emerged, connecting Eve’s refuge to the shoreline, forcing her to face her nemesis once again.
* * *
A blustery wind lashed the surf into foam and sent it booming against the rocks in geysers of spray. Swells loomed high in the distance, curled like claws, and charged the shore with predatory determination, then slid back, hissing angrily over an unsuccessful lunge. The apes combed the high tideline for seaweed, fish and oysters tossed up by last night’s storm, casting occasional uneasy glances at the water. Not even Eve attempted the waves in such a mood.
Digger descended from his rocky perch and stalked purposefully along the curve of sand. His mane and beard stiffened like a dark halo around his head. Branchbreaker, greedily dismembering a crab he’d commandeered from Sleeps-in-the-Sand, remained unaware of impending danger. Digger approached quietly from behind and suddenly leaped on his rival’s back, sinking sharp fangs into his shoulder. Branchbreaker surged to his feet, roaring with pain and rage, but Digger got in several good blows before the alpha had time to regain his balance. Digger still maintained the momentum and he used it to drive his enemy toward the water. The wash breaking around his knees unnerved Branchbreaker and he tried to pull away, but Digger gave no quarter. He bowled his enemy over into the breaking waves and they both came up sputtering and flailing. Branchbreaker scrambled to evade Digger and reach the safety of the shore, where he might stand a chance of regaining the advantage.
Leaving Little Gull in the care of his older sister, Eve raced to block Branchbreaker’s escape. She rose upright, screaming, and waved her arms threateningly, and Branchbreaker hesitated just long enough for Digger to apprehend him again, biting his neck and shoulder. The waves broke over them both, and again Branchbreaker struggled to escape, choking now and half drowned. Digger picked him up bodily and heaved him into the surf. Branchbreaker dragged himself ashore, trembling spasmodically and retching saltwater. Digger approached him threateningly and he cringed in submission.
Eve danced a little and crowed with delight. Then screams of fear and rage abruptly interrupted her celebration. Taking advantage of Eve’s distraction, Wind-in-the-Eyes had crept up on Little Gull and Salty and tried to snatch the infant. Salty clung to her little brother’s legs and screamed for help, while powerful Wind-in-the-Eyes dragged them both toward the tall sedge grass. Driven by motherly terror, Eve sprinted across the soft, shifting sand. Wind-in-the-Eyes’ fist crashed into the side of Salty’s head and stunned her senseless. Carrying Little Gull, Wind-in-the-Eyes vanished into the sedges. Eve plunged after them, unhesitating, armed with her oyster-cracking Stone and the courage of motherhood. Following the distress cries of her infant, she careened blindly through the salt marsh. She sensed something following but gave no thought to whether it might be Digger, Branchbreaker, or the Beast. She had always sensed that the Beast lurked in wait in this dark swamp, but not without a fight would she let that foul monster suck the light from her baby’s eyes.
Eve caught up with Wind-in-the-Eyes where the shallow muck of the swamp gave way to the deep, clean current of the river. Wind-in-the-Eyes turned to face her with Little Gull hanging limp in the crook of her elbow. His neck twisted at an impossible angle, and his eyes stared blankly. The Beast looked out of the murderer’s eyes with passionless clarity.
In a primal fury of grief, Eve attacked wildly. Once, twice, three times Stone drove her enemy down. Eve felt the Beast enter her in a rush and her spirit sucked the life from Wind-in-the-Eyes, and…it…felt…good. Stone cracked in two like a hatching egg and fell to the ground, splattered with blood and gore.
* * *
As the sun drew near the end of its day cycle, Eve trailed farther and farther behind the rest of her tribe. Many years passed and Digger had long since died, as had Honeysuckle, Branchbreaker, Sleeps-in-the-Sand and Seedeater. Five offspring Eve had birthed, four of them still surviving with youngsters of their own. Her teeth had worn down to nubs, arthritis ached in her bones, and her sight had dimmed until she could barely see her grandchildren gamboling ahead of her. She felt old and tired beyond measure. Life had become an unrelenting struggle against pain.
Eve lay down to rest for a moment on the sun-warmed sand. Across the endless, celestial expanse of the sea, the reflection of the setting sun formed a shining pathway to glory. She sensed the last strains of her life music drawing to a close, and in the gathering stillness, she recognized her old enemy, the Beast. This time she did not flee in terror. She had made her peace with the Beast long ago, and now she recognized it as a friend offering an end to pain, and perhaps…a new form of song.
2.
Sun warms the seed and awakens it from dreaming. Germination comes as an explosion of separation, unity sundering into a new duality, emerging as the two foundational principles searching for meaning. One plunges deep into the moist, occult depths of the nurturing earth, while the other stretches heavenward, reaching for the light and comfort of elusive reasoning in the airy, intricate web of the Great Mystery.
* * *
Each time the cosmic wanderer enters the solar system and disturbs the stability of the planets, she loses a little of her own momentum, shortens her flight path just a little more, draws closer to her inevitable destiny, and fixes herself in legend.
SEA CHANGES
Second Ritual: Vision Quest
AS THE PLIOCENE drought continued over millennia, tough savannah grasses and water-retaining trees replaced the rainforest over much of the continent and tracts of sandy desert began to grow in the driest places. But the island off the coast of the continent continued to sustain the descendants of Eve. Little remained of the rainforest even here, surrounded by the moist sea winds, for the temperatures remained too cold to sustain that tropical growth. The island had turned into a barren desert of rock and tough grasses that sustained little wildlife of any size. However, the descendants of Eve continued to thrive on the bounty of the sea.
* * *
Redfish swam to where the outgoing tide began to expose the rocks with their colonies of shellfish. Heavily pregnant, her swelling womb gave her added buoyancy but made it harder to resist the rhythmic push and pull of the waves. She braced herself against the rocks with one hand and stood up on long, slim legs, the result of thousands of generations of adaptation, forced and speeded by the hazardous environment of the sea. With a round, smooth hand-stone she began prying and pounding shellfish from their anchorage and eating the sweet flesh. All around her, she heard her kin calling back and forth, location calls for the most part and reports of good foraging areas. Though Redfish paid little attention, she listened for any alarm calls. Sharks remained the most fearsome of predators.
Her mate, Holdsfast, paddled over and began foraging next to her, sharing warmth. She cracked open a particularly delectable mussel and offered the tidbit to him. Besides their physical adaptations, the culture of the sea apes changed as well. The more muscular, hairier males, who once dominated the mating arena, had poorer water dynamics and limited survival potential in their adopted environment, and therefore made unreliable partners. Mating became less a battle for male dominance and more a game of enticing the females and forming long-term relationships. The pink posterior swellings of maned ape females in estrus served no purpose underwater and gradually evolved out of existence. With fertility cycles less visible, intercourse between mated pairs occurred frequently, a kind of hit-or-miss gamble that surprisingly paid off. Their population increased very slowly over the generations, mostly because the dangers of life in the ocean quickly weeded out the weak, the incautious and the slow to learn.
From the Shores of Eden Page 4
