My Big Man
Mm-bu. My big man. My big man protects me. My big man stands between us, little people, and the out there where wolves come from. When my big man out hunting, and my big woman out hunting, wolf grabs baby from our hiding place. Big man follows tracks of wolf, with help from other big men. He kills wolf. Big woman helps them bring dead wolf back to small cave. Then all men and all women take flesh from wolf, to big cave. They make sparks with white rocks. Sparks make fire. When fire comes, big people and small people, all come. All eat. We scrape bones with sharp stone.
From cave mouth we see stars.
I scream when wolf take baby. We little people stay together, from time of wake to time of sleep. Only three of us little people now in small cave, after baby eaten. Big man plays with us after hunting. He lets me pull at gray beard on his face, so I stop screaming. Big man brings baby wolf. He gives baby wolf to us, to play. Baby wolf plays a lot, chews bones. Then we eat baby wolf. We scrape bones with sharp stone again.
Some rain comes to rain in front of small cave. Many grays swell the sky. I still remember baby. I play when small cave is with light. I eat when big cave is with fire. I sleep when small cave full of dark. Now small cave full of cold, so sleep is harder.
My big man brings empty wolf to small cave. We sleep on empty wolf, is warmer now. I know: when cave full of cold, there will be white out there, soon. I remember the white from last time. And the time before last time. When white is out there, I remember, more hungry in small cave.
My big man comes back with wound on his arm. He moans, licks his arm. My big man stays in small cave many lights and darks. My big woman hunts more. Other big men bring some bones to us, paw from animal. My big man stays in small cave, makes more sharp stones. Ties sharp stone to thick stick. This stick not for fire, but for killing. I know killing. I see killing sometimes.
I climb on my big man’s big back. I pull my big man’s beard. His wound doesn’t cry blood anymore.
*
Small whites come many times from sky. All white out there. I run out there. White is cold to touch. I run back in. I watch from small cave. When my big man gone hunting, he stays longer. My big woman goes hunting sometimes too.
When hungry, I go out of cave. Crow trapped, cannot fly. I catch crow myself—not my big man, not my big woman. I eat crow, give bones to little people in small cave.
My little people go play in big cave. I hide in small cave.
I know blood. Blood comes from dead. I make blood from under my belly, instead of yellow. Tastes like blood. My big woman drags me out there, from small cave. She walks around me many times. She washes with cold white under my belly. She drags me back to small cave. She pushes me from her. I cry, “Mm-bu!” Then again, “Mm-bu!” But my big man is not here.
My big man stays gone two lights and two darks. When he is back, dead deer hangs around his neck. His big body is full of coverings and warm. I cry and moan. I touch under my belly, and I show him my hand full of blood. He wraps warm arms around me and rocks me. My big man always gentle. Grunts gentle to us little people and says “Ti-ko, Ti-ko.” I say, “Mm-bu, Mm-bu,” and I sleep in his arms. When I wake up, I’m in his arms and the fire is in front of me. Little people, big people eating. Fire makes red on their faces. Warm is good. I sleep again.
*
I have learned to mate. When I feel itch under my belly, I go to big cave. I look for little men. The little-little ones don’t want to play mate. When I find a little man that does, we hide behind rocks in cave. Mate makes me warm.
Ice sticks in front of cave begin to drip. Puddles now. The yellow in the sky is warmer. Big cave fire is smaller now. Only for food. My big man plays with my little people in small cave. Doesn’t play with me. I watch them play. We all sleep alone again, in small cave.
When cave is full of light, I want to mate. There is one man now. A man who growls, scratches and beats the others. Mates with me. Bigger man, no hair on his face. I run to him now. I say, “Nya!” He says, “Nya!” We mate in dark too. My man.
My big man watches my man. My man growls at my big man. I run out there with my man, out of cave. Mate in the small new grass. Mate by river. We kill and eat things.
*
I don’t go back to cave for many lights and darks. I go everywhere with my man now. We sleep hidden in bushes. We wake if there’s growl. We growl back. My man sharpens stones, to make killing stick. He gave me new killing stick. We track deer. We run, we run. We kill together. We eat raw.
We sleep in small cavern. Safe to sleep here. We pull bushes at the cavern mouth. I want to be with my man, in the out there. I want to mate forever, with my man.
The out there is big now. Sky is bigger than from cave mouth. Stars are many. More and more woods where we go. We follow river. Woods never end. We climb hill, sit on rocks, in the wind. We clean in river and we drink. Water plays, so we play with water. Water shows my face, two eyes with sky color in them. I open mouth and the face in water opens mouth.
Sometimes my man gets fish with killing stick. Bear gets fish, no killing stick. We stay away from bear, because only two of us.
*
My belly is big now. There’s something inside, under my skin. I feel something I know is alive. I know I want it to come out. My big woman had belly like this, before baby. I don’t want to mate. My man says “Nya!” and I huddle behind big tree. My man finds me. My man mates me. I try to run away, and he growls. I want my big man protect me.
*
I follow river back, and my man follows me. I want back in big cave, small cave. I want my big man. I want my big woman. I want to play with my little people. My belly moves.
Some lights and darks pass and I recognize trees and sky in front of rock hill where cave is. I run. My man runs, grabs my arm, makes me stop. I growl, and he points ahead, to big cave mouth. I crouch on ground, fast. Danger. Big danger. Wind brings smell of blood. I back up, hide behind big bush. Thorns make my arms hurt. My belly moves.
We move with little steps, hiding all the time, crouching. Danger and blood smells are ahead. Movement in front of cave mouth. Big women, big men. Then I see the bigger men. I never see them before. Their heads are higher than the big men I know. Shoulders thin. Hairs short. More skins wrapped around their bodies. Long spears in their hands. Throw long spears to people in my cave. Little people killed, enemy men grab little dead people. Enemy grab dead big people in my cave. Enemy many, many.
Enemy people too. But enemy faster, with cunning. My people die.
I see my big woman. Dragged outside cave by enemy. I growl, lift my head above bush, and my man pulls me down. “Mm-a! Mm-a!” I say. I have trembling in all my body. My face is wet. My eyes swim with water. I can tell death even from a distance. My big woman is dead.
They will eat our dead. We eat our dead too, sometimes. If hunger is long.
My man pulls me away. I don’t see my big man dead, at the cave. Where is my big man? Is he away? Stay away.
I will stay away. We sleep in deep bushes. I hear many things, and trembling comes back sometimes. After this one dark, we return to watch, and see enemy at the cave. They bring their women. Their little people. The cave is theirs now.
We follow river again, look for small cavern under the rocks. We stay there two lights, two darks without coming out. We hear enemy sometimes. They are many. They hunt. We hear their shouts, animal death screams. We do not dare come out of cavern even when light is out there.
*
My belly hurts. My legs wet. The living thing wants to come out. I scream, and my man pushes hand on my mouth. Enemy close. We can smell them. I try to make no sound, but sound comes out. Baby comes out. Skins fall around baby, and we eat skins. Hunger is strong.
Hunger is very long now. My man goes out to look for food, comes back quickly. He points out there, shows me height of enemy and I know he means enemy close. We die if enemy finds us. I feed baby so baby won’t make sounds. Baby clings to my breast.
Baby has hunger, because my breasts are dry. My man is gone again, but I fear enemy will see him. Maybe he can find rabbit. Crow. Baby deer. I eat worms from under the rocks.
I go out there, to look for more worms. I listen. I hear baby make sounds in the cavern, but I must eat first. I find a root and I eat. Baby sounds stop.
I run to cavern. Stay away, enemy.
My man is with baby. Baby limp. Head dangling, from where my man holds baby. I try to reach baby, to take baby from his hands, but my man growls. My man bites limp baby and growls more. I want my big man to kill this man, but my big man is nowhere. Where can I find my big man? Can I make baby alive again? I know death is forever. I run.
I run, and I run. I will run more. I only stop to drink from river. I will run forever. Enemy behind me—enemy that I see, enemy that I don’t see. My man is enemy now.
Not my man anymore.
*
I have to keep running, find a cave. Leave that cave, find another. I will look for people, short and strong, not long and enemy. I want to look for my big man, to protect me. Sorry I left my big man and cave, and my mate man is traitor. Eats baby. My big man still alive? My big man in woods somewhere? Never go back to big cave. If he alive, he never at the cave either.
Enemy everywhere now, and I have to be careful forever. Eat when I can. Many roots and worms, sometimes an animal.
I don’t know if I find my big man again. I know death will come, when enemy finds me.
*
I know big enemy will win the out there, forever. This place will be enemy forever.
I don’t know it at this moment, and I will never know it, but there’s something in me that has settled into the course of things. I await the lurking death out there, though I don’t know how it will come. Although I don’t know it except with the fear and relief that live in me forever, leaves will cover me wherever I fall, wherever the rest of me falls that doesn’t perish fast. Years will cover me and the big yellow up above will shine just the same. Many steps will fall over the earth that sits on top of me. Things that I know and I have words for will soon have other words. Other words will grow big as the out there, big as the sky. Everything will be enemy named, soon. The cold white will fall from the sky and melt, fall from the sky and melt, and children of children of children of enemy will have words for the melting too.
My big man will be lost to me. But I will keep looking.
And this, I don’t know yet: the traces of me will soon know that we are not really lost. Our traces will be out there. And maybe you, one day, you, the child of the child of the child of enemy, you will find my big man. A bone of him, a bone of me, a sharpened stone and the ash of our fire. You will smell our death without smelling our blood, and you will shiver in your bones, where you will know that something lives, yet unnamed. You, too, will feel settled into the course of things.
I have no words to leave behind, but you will see my traces.
Perhaps you will think of a story to put me back together. My dead baby. My big man.
Perhaps you will say that the enemy was better than me, and you will have many words to say it with, and the traces to show why. Perhaps you will know why the enemy chased us off into a long hunger from which there’s no return. My big man will fit into your naming of Neander-Thal.
But when you become wiser than the undoubted proof of these traces, then perhaps you will know how I was here. Perhaps you will look into the mirror of the river and see my mouth opening and closing—a distant image to bring us closer. Eons from now, you will know that my big man was a gentle man.
