Our assignment was to take one of five words and write a story. The words were Turkey, Sweat, Technology, Inspiration, and Witness. I chose Inspiration...
Inspiration
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. They had known each other since they were children in the small village in the shadow of the mountain. Recently, he had killed a lion and was now recognized as a man, no longer a boy in the tribe. This meant that now he and the grown-up girl he called Flower could be joined together by the elders, blessed to have children, and grow their small but proud tribe.
The festival of their joining was a happy occasion for all in the village and there was food and drink for all that day. His hut would be their hut and the lion's skin that marked his growth from a child would be their bed that evening.
In the dark of the hut, he could just see her lying on that fur, and her bright white teeth gleamed in the early night against her dark skin. When she wrapped her long, slender arms around him and pulled him close, he could swear that he was seeing stars, even though he knew there were no gaps in his well-thatched roof.
He fell asleep in those arms and the world could not be more perfect, until he saw stars again. The blow to the back of his head was hard and violent. The stars were followed by darkness. When he finally did awake, his head hurt and his hands and feet had been bound. Flower was nowhere to be seen. Three large men from another tribe were fighting over the lion skin that he had just been enjoying a short time before. He couldn’t understand their language, but it was clear that life as he knew it was over. With all that going on, there was only one thing on his mind. Where was Flower?
Once the captors saw that his eyes were open, they started to yell at him. All that could come out of his mouth was something about the lion skin they were fighting about. A few more yells and he repeated similar words. The biggest one took the word that meant “lion” in the local tongue and pointed at the man on the floor and repeated it. He had just been named “Lion”.
Lion tried to lunge for the spear that should have been near the door, but it was no longer there. Neither was almost anything of value. The skin had been the prized possession and was apparently going to the biggest of the bunch. Lion knew the smell that was coming to his nostrils. Something was burning. Wildfires were always a danger, but that was not what was going on. While the big guy grabbed the skin, the other two pulled Lion to his feet, and he found that the binding on his ankles was just slack enough for him to walk in short steps, but not to run.
Coming out of his hut, he could see the thatched roofs of several huts ablaze, with his being the next to go. In spite of all that he was seeing, a smile came to his face. Across the village, he could see Flower. For a moment, there was only relief at knowing that she was alive. The joy was short-lived when he saw that the space between the five girls was about as far as his arms would stretch from fingertip to fingertip. The space was uniform because there was a branch of that length with a “Y” at each end tied around their necks. Their hands and feet were tied in the same manner as his were. Everything was so planned and so uniform. These invaders had done this many times before. And they were good at it. That was when he noticed the other ones. The ones not dressed in skins. They had two pieces of different colored material on the top and bottom half of their body and black covers on their feet that came up to their calves. Some of those others were the same color as he was and some were lighter. He had heard about these strange men and only knew that they were to be avoided. This was the first time he had seen them in real life, and he wished he had not.
The walk was five days. There was almost no food. One from his tribe had managed to get loose and make a run for it. That was when one of the Others took the walking stick that they were always carrying and pointed it at his friend. Fire came from the end of it and a loud boom. His friend fell where he had just been running, and the Others started to yell at each other in another language. Then they pointed to the stick, to our friend, and to us. Lion understood. As long as Flower was still walking, he would walk. As long as she was living, he had something to live for.
When they arrived at the end of the world where there was nothing but water before them, he was sure this was the end. Then he saw the giant log on the water with a branch sticking up in it. On the stick was a white square being blown by the wind. On, or was it in, the log were men standing with more of the walking sticks that killed his friend.
It took two trips for the giant log to get what was left of his village to the island he had hardly seen when they first came to the shore. First, they took the women, then the men. He could see Flower going on board. And she could see him. There were tears in her eyes, but she seemed physically fine. As long as she was alive, he had a reason to live. If ever she were to die, they had been united by the tribe and he would rejoin her when he died.
The men were marched past different colored enormous mud huts. When they finally came to the one the color of blood, they were taken through an opening into the center of it. The walls were as tall as trees, and at the top of the walls were two men with walking sticks that boomed. The top half had the Others with their strange coverings as well as some who looked like him dressed in a similar manner. He noticed that the ones that looked like him in the bright colors were all women. Young, beautiful women. This was strange, but he was starting to figure things out. Lion was not a stupid man.
His group was led to the lower level and into a cave space where they were all pressed together with even more like them from other tribes. They were given food and water, and the ones already there had fear in their eyes.
Nearby, he could hear women's voices through the thick walls, and he was sure that one of them was Flower. He was surrounded by stench, fear, and darkness. One of the Others came and put hard loops of heavy pain around his wrists, pulling him to the side of the giant hut facing the water.
There was a large door that opened onto the bright blue of the big water. Another man was relieving himself at the edge of the rocky drop into the blue below. The other pointed at him and at the place his fellow captive had just done his business. In the water below, he could see churning in the water. The body of a dark-skinned man like him was being torn to bloody bits by big grey fish. There were dozens of them. As he prepared to do what he had to do, he looked up and saw her. Flower was up with the others. She was wearing bright colors. And she saw him.
The wall above was not very high. The people of his tribe never learned to swim, so what she did had only one purpose. She climbed quickly onto the low wall and before anyone could stop her, she jumped.
She wasn't strong enough to make it into the water. Just enough to hit the rocks below and bounce twice before splashing into the water and the waiting jaws of the big grey fish.
Before the fish could get to her he was flying free in the air. And before he took his last breath the big grey fish were at him. And they were together again.
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