by Dan Pearce
I suppose it’s because I was at such a point that I got sucked into it all as hard and deep as I did after Unbato introduced me to both the drugs and to sex as I had never before experienced it. His tribe found me during a span of life when I admittedly went through most days trying to feel nothing, since it seemed I had become incapable of feeling anything good or happy. Unbato offered me a powerful escape from that nothingness, and I wanted more.
I’ve long believed that the repeated act of escaping is a genuine and complex human need. It seems all people need to do it from time to time, no person is immune to it, and everyone does it differently.
I’ve yet to meet a grown soul who didn’t face serious shit at some point. Life is just a bitch, at times. It gets complicated. It’s far from predictable. Whether the struggles of my life have been financial, mental, emotional, physical, or something else completely, nothing has ever actually been controllable for me. Perpetual and unexpected dynamics have been and always will be the status quo. Early in my existence I would attempt to plan and plot out every possible detail before things happened, but I learned it was impossible to factor into my finite thoughts that which was always wrapped in infinite possibility.
It seems that getting to the end of every individual day takes real mental work for anyone. It takes grit. It takes stitching together tens of thousands of thoughts and hundreds of different emotions. It takes balancing that which we believe we feel and think with what our subconscious actually feels and thinks. A day doesn’t end that we don’t each have to compare everything we do and say and feel and think with that which we did and said and felt and thought yesterday. Whether we like the reality of it or not, we are in personal constant comparison with every other person with whom we come into contact. To add to that, we must deal with our consciences, our self-esteem, and our self-worth. We must fight bad habits, and unhealthy addictions, and unhealthy thinking. We have to combat what we perceive is the past, while at the same time do what we currently think will be best for our futures. In my experience, this is human life. It’s hard as fuck. For everyone. And so, we all have need of escaping it sometimes.
Many I’ve seen who have escaped it through substances. Others through spirituality. Others escaped through eating, or shopping, or over-working themselves. Some through bullying. Others gambling. I’ve seen many escape through sex, or religion, or God, or service. The list could go on, but I’m sure any who read this will get my point. People need to escape. Life is just too constantly complex, and the human mind too fragile to think anything else might be true.
It has never been any different for me. Time is no vaccination for life’s convolution. I have always had to deal with the same daily tangled heaviness that eventually demanded reprieve. At times my need for reprieve was minor, and so minor escapes sufficed. When Unbato found me, the need had culminated into a dying thud of desperation, whose language I either no longer spoke or whose voice I refused to hear; I’m not entirely sure which is truer. I only know that my need to escape wholly was at an all-time high.
Unbato’s language was aboriginal, and so I won’t share much of our exact dialogue before the day we parted ways. There are a handful of phrases he once spoke to me, though, which I can never forget. “Humplant change sad Cain. It make his mouth to laugh,” was the first of them. “Humplant make all woman eager and wet, and all man hard like tree,” was the other. I didn’t know what Humplant was at the time, but Unbato was excited for the chance to show me. “Three woman make Humplant now. In eight nights, Cain laugh with Unbato and join all man and woman at Night of Sharing.” He said this to me while I still was learning his language. At the time, I had no way of knowing Unbato’s Humplant was a powerful drug, or just how immediately it would take complete and dangerous control over me.
I had never taken or even seen drugs, though the people of Pramorah had told many tales of different plants and mushrooms that were grown in their part of the world, which had the power to make one see visions, or to lessen pain, or to take one’s mind to weightless and peaceful places. I greatly looked forward to trying them for myself. Of course, alcohol had been around longer than I had, and I was no stranger to partially escaping the hardness of life through it. I never had become addicted to it, though. I didn’t much care for that feeling of drunkenness.
Humplant was different though, and as far as I knew it was a drug unique to Unbato’s people. His grandmother had created the drug by scraping the secretion which oozes from the sliced seed pod of a poppy. She dried the secretion until it hardened, then mashed it together with the dried leaves of three different herbs and a fungus which grew at the roots of cork oak trees. Unbato refused to tell me which herbs were used in Humplant. He only would tell me, in his own primitive wording, that they each were known for their aphrodisiac and libido-enhancing properties, which were needed to counteract the libido-draining effects of the poppy secretion.
Unbato’s people still produced Humplant in the same manner his grandmother had done it but had concocted it into a creamy drink to make the Humplant a bit more palatable. Once all the necessary ingredients had been gathered, the entire process took two and a half weeks. Unbato had requested a new batch be started several days before we met, and the drug was indeed ready on the eighth day from when Unbato promised to put a smile on my apparently sad face.
The older children were left at home that evening to care over the younger children, and every man and woman, young and old, from Unbato’s village came together to participate in the much-anticipated occasion. They called the event Night of Sharing, and it soon became apparent why.
Rarely in my few days there had I seen women permitted to speak freely and openly with the men. They were made to keep a quiet reverence for their warriors, and so it surprised me greatly when they showed up to the Night of Sharing free-spirited, loud, and full of uninhibited laughter, even before the Humplant was served. Several women brushed their hands against my chest or neck as they passed. A few reached down and teased me sexually, whispering promises of lewd acts to come. They repeated this with several other men as well.
All who were in attendance began stripping naked and dancing rings around the fire, chanting promises and exclaiming gratefulness to their gods. After much coaxing by men and women alike, I also stripped-down to join in their ring, and soon was lost in the joy and freedom of the celebration.
One woman, blacker and taller than any of the others, kept linking arms with me as we danced. She would bend, and jump, and howl, and sing, and even though she kept breaking free of me to link arms with another man, she would quickly return to me. Her eyes remained glued to me with anticipation, and I found myself desperately wanting every bit of her. I became so engaged at the thought of being with her that I didn’t notice the large seashells of Humplant being distributed throughout the group.
I later learned the woman’s name was Tugi. She broke free from my arm one last time and returned to me moments later holding a shell in each hand. “Drink,” she said as she held one of them out to me and quickly slurped the liquid from her own.
I took it from her and pointed to it. “Humplant?” I asked. She just nodded and her eyes widened in anticipation of me trying it for the first time.
“Cain drink Humplant,” Unbato shouted to me from the other side of the group as he leapt and bowed to the fire.
I tipped the contents of the shell into my mouth and quickly swallowed it to escape the bitter awfulness that I hadn’t expected. Tugi snatched my shell away and tossed it aside. She grabbed me by the forearm and pulled me into the circle of happy, dancing people. I became lost in the dance and for the first time in quite some time, I felt calm happiness.
It took about 10 minutes of dancing for the effects of the Humplant to take full effect, and it was overly apparent who was always the next in the group to feel it. One by one, each member of the village suddenly stopped dancing and became very calm. Most of them began grinning impossibly large smiles as they stood motionless and e
njoyed the flood of calm that had just filled them. It seemed to hit me at the same moment Tugi began feeling it, as we both suddenly stopped and held each other, increasingly connected, as the drug took full effect.
I remember that moment so distinctly. It was what I felt could really only be described as mental and emotional freedom. It was the first time I had ever fully escaped from the heaviness of life. Nothing mattered, and at the same time everything beautiful that had somehow stopped mattering to me became greatly important once more. Every person around me, both the men and the women, became so beautiful to me. The future was an idea that didn’t matter and all thoughts of the past disappeared. My mind seemed to fill with air as it attempted to carry me away into the sky. Time slowed and sped-up simultaneously. I was very much aware of what was going on and yet I was completely unaware. The more I tried to contemplate what I was feeling, the less I was able to do so until I just felt nirvana.
I remember that moment so distinctly. I don’t remember much of what came in the hours after it. The light of the fire and the stars seemed to combine and to flash and flicker. I seemed to find myself standing, or laying, or kneeling in a new place with each blink.
I remember being so aware of my impossibly hard erection and of seeing flashes of other men with erections. I remember standing behind Tugi as she bent at the waist, fucking her in such a focused, yet distant way. I remember looking across the fire as we fucked, and she was also on the other side with two others from the village. She had a man’s penis in her hand and the head of a woman squeezed between her legs. I looked down, somehow expecting to see Tugi and was surprised to find I was now penetrating another woman, only I was on my back and she was sitting atop me, moving her hips methodically in ways that pleasured us both transcendentally. I remember trying to make sense of the woman’s face, but only kept seeing the stars in the skies above her, growing and shrinking. Soon a beautiful man appeared in my vision and she began pleasuring him while continuing her grind on me, and that was so beautiful to me. The woman atop me somehow became part of the stars. The stars somehow became part of the woman. The man disappeared. He was there again. Then they both were gone.
I remember the contents of many more seashells being tipped into my throat. I remember standing outside the group while I also stood in the center of the fire. That night was filled with brief flashes of many different faces and body parts, and of words being both shouted and whispered to me simultaneously from mouths that seemed to gape open and pierce shut while they moved.
I had neither control nor desire for control while it all was happening. I felt a great burden seem to be pulled from different parts of me as the night went on. The only thought that seemed to originate from me at all, and it came repeatedly, was the thought of never wanting to feel normal life again. I felt as if I was where I always should have been.
I don’t know how long the Humplant lasted, or what all transpired while I was under its influence. I don’t know how many of the flashes were real that I remembered happening, or whether I hallucinated them. I do know that I woke early the next morning, flat on my back with a debilitating headache. My right foot was trapped beneath the warm and sweating groin of a naked sleeping man. A clotheless woman lay with her back arched across my chest, her cold fingers resting around my limp cock while she slept. I turned my head to see the bottom of another man’s feet some inches from my face. The headache was so severe that I couldn’t form a real thought about it all. I only knew I greatly disliked the situation I currently was in.
I wrestled myself free of the sleeping tribespeople and attempted to stand. The pain in my head surged as I did, but eventually I found my balance enough to take my surroundings in more fully. I was encircled by literal piles of sleeping naked people. Only a couple others had woken, and they each lay holding their own heads while groaning. Tugi was still unconscious, entwined in a bear hug with the also unconscious Unbato. Shells and clothes had been freely strewn everywhere. A young girl sat in the dirt outside the circle, playing with a grass doll as if nothing strange was going on. I stumbled to where I had pulled-off my clothes the night before and redressed myself. “Water,” I said to the child who immediately left to fetch me something that could quench my deep thirst.
By the time the girl returned with the water, many of the others had begun stirring. Moans and groans began filling the skies. I gulped down the water and sat against a tree to wait out the rest of my hangover.
The better I felt that day, the worse I felt. As my headache slowly lifted, it was replaced by that same heaviness of life that had vanished the night before. By mid-day I became so aware of the mental and emotional weight I had carried for so long that the thought of continuing life with it weighing me down became nearly intolerable for me. I wanted more Humplant. I needed more Humplant. I needed to be free again, even if for a moment, of it all.
I desperately asked Unbato who assured me there was enough Humplant to last until the half moon, which was a week or so later. That night we repeated the same crazy rush of drug highs and sex. The day after that I felt the heaviness of the world become even heavier than before, and I became even more desperate for Humplant to escape it. We repeated the cycle for several days until I had become fully dependent on the drug, sure that I could not mentally survive a full day without it.
That was the point Unbato cut me off. “You use Humplant to replace sad in Cain,” he said. “This is bad. Cain no drink more Humplant.” I became angry with him, demanding to know why that was a bad thing if he had sold me on it in the first place as a way to overcome the sadness that he saw in me. He kept his calm and he stuck to his guns. “Humplant will kill Cain,” he said, then pointed to Tashibag’s mark. “Unbato give Cain Humplant. If Cain die Unbato die.” I argued and pled with him not to forbid me from the Humplant, but he did not waiver.
Full desperation kicked in that night, as I watched from the outside as the rest of the village continued using the drug. I sat angrily against the outer wall of a grass hut, just far enough away that I could see the shadows of those involved but couldn’t make out anyone’s personal details or the words they were speaking. What started as an irked brood, lost in thoughts of all the ways I would convince Unbato the next day that I should be allowed to participate, turned into a desperate plan to sneak into the group while they were all high to find whatever leftover Humplant was there.
Just as it had each night before, the dancing and laughing suddenly stopped and quieted as the Humplant began working its wonders, and soon I could see the shadows of the villagers begin their sexual acts with one another. I quietly approached the group and was thrilled to see the original pot which held the Humplant. The moment I saw it, something triggered inside of me and I had to have the contents of the pot right then and there. My plan of a stealthy approach flew out the window, and I blatantly pushed my way through the maze horny naked people toward the freedom that awaited me. I needed it. I needed it. I needed it. Unbato had no right to keep me away. He didn’t know just how much the Humplant was helping me.
I felt as if I had no control over my movements or my actions as my arms reached for the pot. I yanked it from the blanket that wrapped it, and swished its contents around, delighted that there was a good amount left. I held the jug to my lips and began to tip it back when it was suddenly snatched from my hands.
“Now Cain leave,” a sober and offended Unbato said. “Cain not stay with people of Unbato no more.”
I attempted to argue. Unbato, certainly understanding the addictive power the drug had on different individuals, insisted I leave his village immediately and “find my laugh to cover my sad” by other means. I attempted to argue further, and at one point tried to snatch the jug from Unbato’s hands. He grabbed me by the throat with one hand when I did and dumped the contents of the jug into the fire with his other.
“Why would you do that?” I demanded, as the liquid cracked and sizzled on the burning coals. Unbato squeezed my throat and nearly lifted me off my
feet, demonstrating his amazing strength. Eventually, I realized fighting him was useless, and I let my body go limp.
The tribal leader released me, and I slumped to the ground. “Cain go now. Unbato no trust Cain.”
He said nothing else, and simply turned his attention to his sexually involved people.
I huffed my way to the other end of the village and gathered my few belongings, including my book, murmuring under my breath the entire way. I had to pass Unbato again and made it a point to not look at him as I walked. “Goodbye Unbato,” was all I said, my angry attention focused in front of me.
“Unbato give Cain Humplant now,” Unbato suddenly called after me.
My reaction was far more physical than emotional. I needed that Humplant, and immediately turned to the leader, ready to do anything I had to do to have it. “Cain want Humplant,” I told him.
He motioned for me to approach, and I eagerly did. “Cain want Humplant?” he asked as I advanced near enough for him to speak without shouting.
