Caveman Chronicles Index

Kpleeb had no idea how long he sat in the cave. The sun had dimmed and the moon had risen a handful of times at least, but the regularity dulled his already sluggish senses. He ate mechanically now, his daily meal taken without gusto when it arrived on the outcropping. He wondered why the meal came not long before the sun began to dim, but he was tired of it either way.

The floor, while smooth and warm was also hard, and he was unused to a sedentary life. He stood and stretched regularly whenever the aching began. He paced and examined every inch of the cave and the outcroppings. The only part of the space that he could not touch was the center of the cave ceiling. He became curious about the defecation pit because it was the only thing left to explore. He bent over it, baring his teeth at the expectation of smell. It was just too dark to see how deep the hole was, and to his surprise, there was no scent at all.

He was just about to reach into the defecation pit when he heard the voice. It was higher pitched and thinner than he was used to, like a child’s voice. There were just a few syllables that echoed lightly from the center of the cave. They were words he did not comprehend. Kpleeb spun around and saw nothing. At a crouch, he began to move toward where the voice had been. Suddenly, he staggered as a wave of sleep hit him. He felt his legs give way, and then his body collapsed into a heap.

First came the awareness, fuzzily prodding at his senses. His eyes opened slowly after an indeterminate delay. The remainder of his senses followed in their own time. Kpleeb’s lips smacked over dry tongue with odd flavor. He heard nothing but the faint echo of his own movement in the cave. His arm buzzed with sleepy numbness where he lay on it and restricted the blood flow. He shifted off of his arm and raised his head.

There was a dull ache on the back of his neck and he reached with his wobbly arm to feel. After gracelessly poking himself in the cheek with his half-responsive fingers he was able to touch the spot that ached. There was a small bump, warm and tender, about the size of his smallest finger-tip. He winced when he pressed to determine its seriousness. The pain was minimal, but something had bitten him or… Did I hit my head when I fell?

Kpleeb sat up and looked around the cave. Nothing was different. The air did not move. He looked up at the sun and saw from the brightness that it appeared to be almost mid-day. He stood carefully and walked to the food outcropping. There was nothing in it, but when he put his hand inside, it began to fill with water.

[I surely am not in the pit of the damned.]

He scooped water up and drank. He had not noticed before, but this water was perfect and had no odd taste at all. He remembered that the water from the river at the bottom of the shallow canyon back home always had a hint of minerals.

“Burrpti kolugut heno ai”

Kpleeb saw no one, but clearly heard the voice. It sounded as if it was questioning him, but he did not understand. He grunted vaguely and waited, but nothing appeared and no other words were uttered out of the air. As there was no other caveperson in the cave, he had not spoken during his time in the cave.

“I not know these words,” he finally said with a slight shrug.

There was no response.

Kpleeb waited. The sun dimmed, and the moon rose. He slept fitfully only after an extended period of lying awake on his back in the hollow of the cave floor. His mind spun with questions that he could not quite grasp. He had heard the fab elder Shoofit speak at length about the great spirit tahr that judged all cavemen, but he had never heard or seen the spirit. Was it the spirit tahr?

He did eventually fall asleep and his dreams were filled with images of hidden spirits and tundra dwelling animals talking gibberish to him. In his final dream a yak gave him a gray leaf that smelled and tasted amazing, but then he began to violently vomit. He awoke, chilled and vomiting and was not able to crawl to the defecation pit before spewing meat and gray flub all over the cave floor. He finished hurling the contents of his last meal into the defecation pit and carefully walked to the food outcropping.

He filled his mouth with cool water and then went to spit it out into the pit. The cave floor was slanted and wet from his upheaval, and he slipped and came down on his rump and forearm with a cry. He cradled his arm for a few moments, and then recalled his dreams. The food has made me sick. His pondering about the voice and the vomiting concluded with a simple answer to his situation. In my sickness I have dreamt of voices and spirit animals.

It was a relief to know that the great spirit tahr had not chosen this difficult moon-cycle of his life to torment him. Kpleeb got slowly to his feet and walked to the outcropping to drink his fill. He then sat with his back against the wall where there was no mess and realized just how exhausted he felt. He finally nodded off–

–and woke sometime later with a chill. The air was misty, but he could still see the outcropping that held the pit. To his amazement it soon began to gently rain within the small cave. The rain itself was warm, and Kpleeb watched as the cave floor became clean. In moments, all of the detritus floated in the center of the cave at the lowest spot where he normally slept. The floor below him was warm, and he considered that he would have to sleep near the food outcropping from that moment on.

Kpleeb spent many handfuls of time searching the cave again. He looked for the source of the rain, but could not see a cloud or any openings in the ceiling of the cave that would allow water to enter. There were caves back home near the canyon that sometimes would seep from the ceiling during the wetening, but he knew had been able to see those cracks in the rock. There were none here. Eventually, the sun began to dim, and he recognized the time of day when the food came.

The outcropping was empty when he checked it, so he put his hand inside and then drank from the water that was emitted. He sat down and watched the still pool in the center of the cave. It had not diminished at all. The air still smelled slightly of his vomit, and he hoped that it would fade in time. There was a very slight whine near the outcropping that he had not heard before, and he stood and looked inside.

The meat and flub were there and were hot to the touch, but Kpleeb’s stomach complained when he thought about eating. He was hungry and he needed the food even though his gaunt frame had filled out a little since he was caught in the darkness at the oasis. He had only one meal each sun-cycle, every sun-cycle at the same time, as far as he could tell.

“Urg,” he said quietly to himself, “this is an inviting cave, but the same food has become a burden.” He had not used his voice for many sun-cycles before this day, and it was hoarse. He scratched and sat down again determined to skip the meal even though he was hungry.

In time, the sun dimmed, and the moon appeared. Kpleeb saw that, like the sun, the moon did not rise from the horizon. He fell asleep pondering this mystery.