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The Hunt
by Joanna.
Sulawesi 32500 BC.
The creaking sound made Jaa nervous and she shifted slightly,
scanning the forest before bringing her attention back to the quarry. A slight
breeze fought its way through the dense foliage causing the rank odour of the
beast to hit her full on, assaulting her senses and making her to turn towards
the trunk of the tree where she perched. Towards the leaves offering cover and
the scent of something, anything less foul. She turned back and caught Kho’s
eye. Kho, concealed behind a leafybush at ground level, pointed at her nose
then the beast and then made the hand sign for her brother. Jaa grinned as she
tried to tamp down the laugh that was wiggling its way up.
The creaking sound came again but this time followed by an
astonishingly piercing snapping. Until then they kept the quarry in sight. A branch crashed down close
to Jaa’s perch, knocking her off balance. She hit the ground heavily and the
breath whooshed out of her. The beast already nervous, startled and charged … straight
towards her.
Kho screamed and flapped her arms. The beast stopped in
confusion before changing the direction of its charge, giving Jaa time to get
up and move. Jaa ran a little way then shouted and waved giving Kho a chance to
sink down into the undergrowth and recover while the beast veered back to
charge Jaa once again. Jaa ran and then dived as Kho yipped and yelled, distracting
the beast once again. In this way they lured the beast, using each other’s
strength to keep ahead of the animal and wear it out.
They just hoped the hunters were ready.
Jaa pelted towards the meeting point, only a whisper away
from being gored. She started to feel the beast’s fetid breath dampen the skin
at her shoulder, when she saw the hunter quickly scrambling out of the ground
and the edges of a pit opened in front of her. She jumped but the beast nicked
her as it fell and she crashed against the side of the hole. Half in the pit
she started sliding backwards towards the beast when a strong arm gripped her
and pulled her out. She sank to the ground to catch her breath before joining the
hunters lining the edge of the pit to throw rocks and sharpened wooden spears
until the beast was dead.
It was a good kill. The beast was large and heavily
pregnant. The choicest meat was that of the unborn calf and the softer bones
could be crafted more easily. The skin was especially valuable. Excellent. The
tribe would gain much from this.
The feast that night was noisy and merry. Afterwards the
hunting party was summoned by the wise woman to the cave of remembrance. They
were tailed by the rest of the tribe, suddenly solemn.
The hunters gathered to re-enact the hunt in the flickering
light of the fires. Kho first acted out herself but then took the place of the
beast, donning an old skin and weaving back and forth snorting and snuffling.
When Jaa jumped, Kho grabbed at her ankle and she flattened herself on the
floor mimicking the slide into the pit. The audience gasped, some even standing.
She felt the strong arm again, this time she looked up. It was Kho’s brother.
They joined the others acting out the final kill. Kho made a splendid show of
dying – waving her limbs and issuing blood curdling screams. The tribe erupted,
stamping their feet, grunting and flickering hand signals in approval.
Jaa and Kho stood side by side with the others in the
hunting party. The wise woman anointed them with the blood of the beast to give
them strength, speed and fertility. This was Jaa and Kho’s first hunt as
runners so they were lifted by the other hunters and had their hands spread on
the roof of the cave. The wise woman directed the hunters, moving them and
positioning them before pulling out the sacred powder. This was red as blood
from the special rock it was ground from. The wise woman gently blew the powder
over the girls’ hands and forearms. Coating them and forming silhouettes on the
cave ceiling, adding to the striking, overlapping pattern already there from
previous hunts. They were honoured.
The hunting party edged away from the wise woman when she
sank down, huffing and snorting softly over her stash of powder and fresh beast
blood. They milled around while the rest of the tribe watched the wise woman
start to paint an image on the wall of the cave. It was of the beast, painstakingly
created using a paste from its heart’s blood and the mystic red powder.
Jaa edged towards Kho’s brother and punched him lightly on
the shoulder. He acknowledged her with a soft grunt and a smile. She smiled
back. Maybe he didn’t smell so bad after all she decided.
~ENDS~
Background: Sulawesi, October 2014. Cave paintings discovered which are
estimated to be anywhere between 17,000 and 40,000 years old.
Background info on Sulawesi: Certain mammals only found
there such as the dwarf buffalo. Hand prints made when powder blown on the
hands leaving silhouette behind. Mainly forest. Rich in iron ore hence red
powder.
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FIRST TERM PHOTO
By Alex
Linda was used to not sleeping. It had in fact been three whole years since she
last slept. That’s not to say she hadn’t fallen unconscious from time to time,
her body literally shutting down and switching off out of physical necessity.
But she hadn’t drifted off and slept of her own accord since it happened.
Every night, long after tucking Jacob
up in his bed and just after reassuring Bill that she was okay before he headed
off on yet another early night, Linda would sit with her wine glass in hand and
plan what she would spend the long night thinking about. She had learned that
it was better to decided in advance, giver herself a topic to focus on. She had
tried reading but nothing held her attention. The same applied to watching
television. Neither could stop her whirring mind, the dash of houghts
leaping and jumping about like wayward toddlers let loose in a fairground.
Better to have a topic in mind. And tonight’s topic was easy.
Tomorrow was First Term Photo day at
St Cuthbert's Primary school. Linda well remembered Jacob’s photo day. He was so
small and chubby back then, it hardly seemed possible that he was finally at school.
She could still feel his damp hair under her fingers as she tried to smooth
down his cow-lick curl.
“You are going to be in the paper,
Jacob,” she had soothed with a smile, while giving his hair another spritz from
the plant sprayer. “In years to come you will look at this photo and I’d much rather
you didn’t glare at me when that day comes.”
Jacob had sat still patiently, fixed
on his reflection and his mothers warm palms. Linda kissed him.“Look how handsome you are! Phoebe, look at your brother – doesn’t he look handsome?’ Phoebe had bottom shuffled over
“Pwetty,” she lisped at her own image
before being distracted by an earwig and, rising to her bare feet, dashed off
to find a beaker in which to trap the hapless critter.
Linda realised she was smiling at the
memory. It felt comforting to smile. She got up and crept quietly up the stairs
and into Phoebe's room. The night light was on, casting a warm glow. Phoebe
hated the dark and Linda was regimented when it came to heading up before dusk
to ensure the night light was on, just the way Phoebe liked it. Silently Linda
opened the wardrobe door and looked at the brand new school uniform hanging
amongst the floral dresses and princess costumes. Bill would be furious if he
knew she had gone out to buy it specially for tomorrow. He constantly worried
about how much she spent on Phoebe. Linda retrieved the hanger and tiptoed out
of the room, pulling the door to behind her, leaving just the right amount of
gap to allow the glow to leak out across the landing carpet and into the spare
room. Linda followed the streak of light, being careful to avoid the hidden
creaks beneath the beige pile, and settled on the spare bed.
The uniform was on her lap. She
admired the butterfly tag that served as a zip pull. Phoebe loved butterflies;
Linda had pounced on the pinafore dress as soon as she saw it. She had sewn the
school badge onto the new cardigan and even if she did say so herself, Linda
had done a fine job, you could barely see the stitching at all. Phoebe would be
pleased.
The plan for the rest of the night
was to decide on how to do Phoebe's hair. Which bobbles would Phoebe prefer?
Tights or socks? Linda reached for her phone and checked the weather report for
the following day. Socks it was then.
Linda settled back against the
pillow. She wondered how many more copies the local paper sold the week they
published the photos of all the local reception classes? All those smiling little
faces shining out, what parent could resist buying several copies to snip up
and post off to grandparents and god parents. What a coup for the local rag! 19
primary schools, some with up to three reception classes. Up to 30 children per class. They must have to produce extra copies to meet demand, Linda mused.
Back to planning Phoebe’s hair. Plaits or bunches? Pony tail or fish tail? The
hours ticked by.
Linda awoke with a start, she was
still dressed from the day before. Good, she thought, she didn’t want to waste
time. She could hear Bill advising Jacob on how to clean his back teeth
effectively without gagging. Jacob was laughing. As she left the spare room Linda notices, with
mounting fury, that Phoebe's bedroom curtains were still drawn.
“Bill, for Christ's sake,” she
shouted. Bill stepped out of the bathroom. Jacob followed, his eyes wide. “Phoebe's
room?” Jacob stepped forward “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll do her curtains and make
her bed,” he said with a reassuring smile. Linda smiled back – he was such a
good big brother. She turned to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Bill asked.
Linda stared at him as though he were stupid.
“I need to get Phoebe sorted, it's
the class photo day for the newspapers. Do you remember Jacobs? Oh he was
the handsomest, wasn’t he.”
“What’s in the bag?” Bill asked.
Jacob had returned from his sisters room and stood slightly behind his father.
“Her uniform, of course” Linda said defiantly.
“Linda....”
She cut him off. “I haven’t got time.
We're late enough as it is already.”
Linda was down the stairs and grabbed
her keys and bag. She could hear Bill shhhing Jacob. How disappointing that he
refused to help, to get involved. Just what sort of father was he.
“Come on Phoebe, we need to get
ready,” she called calmly as she opened the front door.It took 20 minutes to get there. As she parked up she pulled the plastic bag in to her lap and checked that the uniform, sparkly greet hairclips and crisp white socks were all in order. Time to get this show on the road. Out of the car and through the gate. How many times had she walked this route, she wondered smiling. Today was going to be a good day. She stopped when she got to Phoebe and bent down to push aside the early autumn leaves that had settled on her grave.
“You’re going to look so beautiful
today, my love,” She said to the photo on the headstone as she picked up the
sodden book bag and uniform she had placed there 5 weeks earlier on the first
day of term. She carefully placed the new neatly folded uniform beside a vase
of pretty dried violets and placed the hairclips on top of the headstone.
Finally Linda reached into her bag for her phone, stepped back and took a photo of Phoebe's grave. After all, she reasoned, it is so important to celebrate these things.
Finally Linda reached into her bag for her phone, stepped back and took a photo of Phoebe's grave. After all, she reasoned, it is so important to celebrate these things.
~ENDS~
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More to follow.......
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