Freedom 25000 BC Read online

  Wing went back for more food. He ate all the vegetables and a good portion of the meat. He nibbled on the leaf on which he’d put his food, particularly the part under where the meat had been. The leaf had picked up a little grit, but that was normal. He didn’t notice. Then he put the remains of the leaf on the logs which were burning. Wing lay back on the ground, his hands behind his head. He had no desire for sleep. He kept whispering the word freedom. He toyed with it, savored it, wrapped himself in its meaning.

  Wing rested on his sleeping skins. “I learned how to shake back!” he said aloud. “The earth shook back to my father’s stomping. I just shook back to a bear. I know how to shake back!” Wing grinned a slow, long-lasting grin.

  He watched the stars appear. He watched them move through the sky. Finally, his eyes closed and did not reopen. Wing slept.

  The next day he opened his eyes as soon as light fell across his eyelids. Wing saw the world differently. He wasn’t overly pride filled. Instead he had matured almost overnight. He had believed his father’s conviction that somehow he was less than others. Wing knew now he’d believed a lie. He was as capable as any man. He wasn’t the most skilled, but he had sustained himself in the wilderness. Wing had confronted and held his own against a fierce bear. None of the people he knew had done that. None he knew had ever been this long alone in the wilderness. Wing knew how to respect elders. He had just learned to respect himself. It was a perception he’d never experienced.

  Wing also had a new regard for his tools. He had always taken care of them, but now he would be even more careful. He’d avoid chipping the points or splintering the shaft and try even more carefully to aim for the best thrust to avoid breaking a point on bone. Yes, his spears had saved his life. No one had ever taught him to do what he did to frighten the bear. In asserting himself the action seemed to be something that brought a new birth. The assertion brought freedom which built confidence.

  It took Wing a long time to put the fire out. He was patient and carried water from the creek in his cooking bag to cool the fire pit. Finally, able to stand on the spot, he decided the place had adequately cooled to leave.

  Wing walked for three days. He was moderately successful finding food each day. It became easier as he continued to do it. Sometimes, he’d spontaneously shout at the top of his voice, “Freedom!” The idea and the fact raced through him igniting a sense of joy that was new. Occasionally he’d race ahead and jump high, spears lifted above his head. He was glad no one could see him. To be unrestrained was delightful, but deep down inside, he longed for people. Wing speared a small horse and enjoyed it before he slept that night in a comfortable rockshelter.

  Wing opened his eyes to rain. It wasn’t the season for rain. He didn’t want his splint wet. He knew that he’d need it for a long time and was not able to secure it again, if he had to remove it. He had enough food from the small horse he’d speared the day before. Wing decided to wait out the rain. He did take a piece of leather that he used as a cloak when the weather chilled. He wrapped it around his shoulders and set out to find some greens or other vegetables to accompany the horse. He walked south and noticed a pine nut tree in the valley, ran towards it, and came to a complete stop. There was an eagle sitting in the tree. Wing stood there in the rain completely dumbfounded. Rain trickled across his brow ridges and dripped to his chest. He didn’t notice. A feather dropped from the eagle. Wing drifted back in time to the golden light and the old man. The eagle made a great flapping of its wings and took to the air leaving just above Wing’s head. For a moment Wing thought the old man’s face replaced the eagle’s face. Wing stood there still as a rock in the rain. Then he moved. The eagle feather was large. He put his head to the side near the ground, visually lined up the feather, and looked to see where the feather attached to the bird. It pointed across the valley to a V in the hills. It was as if the V called him. Wing knew when the rain abated, he’d follow the directions of the old man. It made no sense, but he would follow the dream man when he could. He simply was unable to resist. In this he felt bound, not free. He finished searching for plants and returned to the rockshelter.

  Chapter 2

  After seemingly endless days of rain, the sun broke through and clouds scattered. Wing was convinced that it was a good time to travel. He gathered his things and walked south down the valley until he reached the tree where the eagle had left the feather. It still lay on the ground where he saw it. After a brief moment of indecision, Wing took the feather and placed it among his leather pieces. He looked toward the V across the valley and began to walk toward it. He crossed the mountain and began to go down the other side. It didn’t take long for him to find the little creek that would lead to the river. From the mountain he could see that the ground sloped down to where it seemed to flatten. He saw nothing like a big lake. He concluded that the salt water must be at quite some distance.

  Wing stood atop the small mountain. A good hearty laugh broke forth from its pit of long incarceration, a slightly twisted laugh, not one of joy—but a laugh nevertheless. He held his arms out to the side. “I am standing here looking for salt water in the distance because I dreamed it!” He had no confidence in dreams. None whatever. Wing considered dreams as tangled thoughts, tangled as cordage sometimes tangled, having nothing to do with his real life or how things should be. Yet the compulsion to continue on down to the little creek so he could follow it was irresistible. “I have turned my thoughts over to an ancient man who appeared in a dream,” he muttered while walking downhill. Wing laughed aloud again, not bitter, more from surprise at himself but leaving self-condemnation behind.

  Later as Wing approached the broken lands of the piedmont, he heard a man’s voice. He stood still and listened. As lonely as he’d become, he was not sure it would be wise to enter quickly into land where others lived. Wing looked for a place where he could observe without being seen. He chose a point of land that had a moderately adequate rockshelter. Using every safety measure he knew, Wing carried his things there. He crept out on the point and was just barely able to see the little place below where people had built tiny dwellings and covered them with grasses. Trees blocked his full view. There was open land where grass did not grow well all around the little dwellings. Children played. There seemed to be several children. There were more people compared to the number that remained at his homeland. From where he watched, adults were the size of his longest fingernail on an outstretched arm. Wing stood no chance of survival if these people saw him as violating their place. He knew he must be careful. He would make no fire.

  Finally, after days of no contact Wing could tolerate the loneliness no longer. He built a small fire at the land’s end of the point. Contact did not take long. Three very tall men came to his camp. Their spears were substantial. Wing walked to meet them showing no fear. He’d already accepted the fact that the meeting would be what it would be.

  The three men talked among themselves as they looked at Wing. At first Wing was disappointed. He could not understand them. Then suddenly he realized they spoke his language only with slightly different pronunciations of the words. They also didn’t talk as fast.

  Wing pointed to himself. “I am Wing.” He said it slowly and carefully.

  The tall man with graying hair said, “Wing. I am Bort, son of Puh. The next man said, “I am Miger, Son of Bort.” The third man said, “I am Hama, son of Bort.”

  Wing looked at them for a long time before speaking. Then he said, “My grandfather is Puh. My grandmother’s name is Toa.”

  The tall man stared as if to drill a hole through Wing. “Then you are my brother’s child. Which brother?”

  Wing stared at the ground. “Itz,” he said quietly.

  “I didn’t like Itz,” Bort admitted. “He was mean spirited. Did he do that?” the man asked, pointing to Wing’s arm.

  Wing nodded, feeling shame.

  “Come,” Bort said, “You have a new place here. You stay as long as you want.” Bort walked over to Wing an
d embraced him.

  Wing burst into tears. He was infuriated at his reaction, but he couldn’t hold back any longer.

  The three men encircled Wing placing the palms of their hands on his upper body. “You are one of us now. Have no fear. You are one of us. You will find little groups of Puh’s children all across this land. When you meet people be sure to say you are Wing, son of Itz, son of Puh. You will be accepted by everyone from here to the salt water. Let’s gather your things.”

  Wing composed himself. He gathered his things and followed the men down to the little village. As they walked he asked, “What is the salt water?”

  “Coming from the Popocatépetl area you wouldn’t know. You’ve seen the big lake. The big lake is like a rain drop. The salt water is like as many big lakes as you have fingers and thumbs—or more.”

  Wing let that information settle. It was so utterly astounding that he could not make a place for it in his understanding.

  As they approached the village people came towards them to see the stranger. Bort put his hand on Wing’s left shoulder. He looked into Wing’s eyes and said, “We will talk later. I want Topozelmu to look at your arm.” To the people Bort said, “This is Wing, son of Itz, son of Puh.”

  Instantly the people understood the connection and welcomed the young man. He was family and to be respected.

  Wing walked into the crowd of people led by Bort.

  “Where’s Topozelmu?” Bort asked.

  “Here!” came the reply. She came at a run.

  “Take this cousin and look at his arm.” Then he asked, “Do you have room for him in your hut?” She nodded. Of course Bort knew she had room. Topozelmu guessed he had more in mind than nursing an injured arm. Bort would also know she wouldn’t object, even if she didn’t want to share her hut yet. Topozelmu realized with a slight surprise that she had no objection. She nodded a second time to Bort in agreement.

  Bort left Wing to Topozelmu. She led him to a quiet place where curious people stood around but gave great space in front of the hut where Topozelmu led him.

  “Is it fully broken?” she asked.

  “No, just a line break.” Wing was gratified the woman was so kind. She was gentle as she removed the splint. Her voice was quiet and melodious, a combination he’d never heard. She washed the arm and felt it carefully. He was sure she missed nothing.

  Wing was grateful she didn’t ask how the injury occurred. What he didn’t know is that she knew about Itz. She knew Itz could be very mean spirited and violent. Itz had many children. Most left the area as soon as possible. Wing wasn’t the first to leave. He was definitely the youngest in her awareness. Most of those who left were well into their twenties and were seasoned hunters. Most left in twos or threes. She knew of none having left alone until Wing.

  As Topozelmu replaced the splint with leather and wood, Dah came over and sat beside Wing.

  “I’m Dah, son of Miger, son of Bort.”

  Wing looked at him expectantly.

  “I have lived twenty-one years. You?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “I will show you this land,” Dah said. “It’s good land. I’ve never seen your land. I have heard about it. You can see Popocatépetl from here. Only when no clouds. This land is piedmont land. It’s the bottom part of the mountains. Piedmont is between the great mountains and the flat land. Flat land goes to the salt water.”

  “Is there a difference in the animal life here?” Wing asked as he picked up the cordage Topozelmu had discarded. He knew the cordage was special to Zik and that Toa had made it. Wing hoped someday to return it to Zik.

  “My father, Miger, says more bears and wolves near big lake. We have more terror birds. Here we have many camels, deer, horses—mammoths too. Plenty rabbits, turtles, peccaries. You good hunter?”

  “Not very good. I managed to feed myself through the wilderness.”

  “I would not want to depend on myself to cross the wilderness. You have encounters with wolves, bears, or terror birds while traveling?” Dah asked.

  Wing nodded.

  “Which of them?”

  Wing looked up. “Bear.”

  “You had to stand up to bear?” Dah was awestruck.

  Wing nodded, remembering.

  “You will tell story tonight?” Dah asked, eager to hear it.

  “If people wish to hear,” Wing agreed.

  Dah excused himself and went off fast. He found Bort and told him Wing had an experience with a bear and was willing to share.

  After Dah left, Eku, Dah’s youngest sister came over to see Wing.

  “How’d you hurt your arm?” she asked quietly. Eku was six years old. Her brown eyes sparkled and her straight, black hair shone in the light. Wing was fascinated with her long, thick eyelashes.

  “That’s a story for another day,” he replied.

  Eku looked surprised. “It’s a long story?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s a long story,” he assured her. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Eku, daughter of Miger, daughter of Bort. I already know who you are. You lived on the white topped mountain. The mountain that smokes. That’s amazing.”

  Wing had to stifle a chuckle. It never struck him as amazing to live on the mountain. Off to the side, Topozelmu was having the same effort to disguise her amusement. She knew Eku loved expressive words.

  “It’s a beautiful place to live,” he said.

  “Then, why you leave?” she asked.

  “Well, Eku, beauty is only one part of a choice of where to live.”

  “This is a beautiful place to live. Was it like this?”

  “A little different. The land slopes a lot. There are many more forests. The land without trees is mostly covered with grasses.”

  “I see,” she said studiously.

  Wing was concealing his desire to laugh out loud. He discovered quickly that he dared not look at Topozelmu.

  Eku looked at Wing’s chest. She reached out and cradled the eagle foot in her hand. “Wing, why you wear this? Should it be on the dirt? It might want to go back to eagle land?”

  Wing laughed out loud. “Eku, you’re a special one.” He hugged her. “I found it one day when I wandered the rocky hills. Mating eagles dive to the ground together. Just before hitting the ground they fly up. This pair didn’t make it. They hit the rock and broke apart. I don’t know why I found this important. I just did.”

  “You take good care of it.”

  “I try, Eku. Now, I have some things I must do. You need to leave me. I see you later.” He went to place his things in Topozelmu’s hut. He desperately needed to relieve himself.

  Eku showed her disappointment, but she didn’t speak of it. “Yes, Wing. I go now.” She stood up and walked away. She had her mind on the eagles that dived down to earth and split apart on the rocks. She thought eagles were not thinking well to do something so foolish. They threw away life for no reason she could see.

  People began to bring food and place it on a fallen log. Wing couldn’t believe the variety of food. There were vegetables, nuts, and fruit there he’d never seen. He began to realize how hungry he was. He hoped his eagerness for food wasn’t too obvious. He had contributed nothing.

  Bort called the people to eat. Topozelmu led Wing to the line. She handed him a piece of wood to hold his food. Wing wasn’t shy. When he wondered what a specific food was, he asked and she explained. He tried numbers of things he’d never tasted. Wing couldn’t believe his good fortune to find people who treated him so well. He did have a strange compulsion to continue to the salt water, but thought he should wait until his arm healed. He ate and enjoyed everything.

  After the food was eaten and put away, the group gathered in a place to the north where the land was flat. Slabs of rock had been placed on the ground for seating places. The sun was setting. A bit of a cool breeze drifted through the village. Wing marveled at how people treated each other.

  Eku walked over and asked if she could sit with Wing. Her mother reach
ed for her, but Wing demurred. “She’s fine,” he said as Eku climbed over his leg to sit on it, as if his leg were a fallen tree. His shock made Eku’s mother chuckle, but she left her daughter to Wing.

  There was group singing, something Wing had never experienced. Hunters shared information they learned that day. Then Bort said, “Wing has had an experience with a bear. Let us listen to him. He will share the story with us.”

  Wing sat a little straighter. Eku twisted so she could look up at his face. He rested his hand gently on her shoulder.

  “On the trip there is a long valley. I had a good shot at a peccary. My arm is not good for hunting. I managed to kill the peccary on the first spear throw. I was so happy. I knew I’d eat well. I relaxed while the meat cooked. I enjoyed it. The next evening after trekking all day, I found mafafa and onions to eat with the meat. I began to cook it. Suddenly a short faced bear came running toward the hearth. Now, I wanted the meat. I really wanted it. I didn’t want bear to kill me. It was my meat. You know that feel?” He paused looking at the hunters. “I took both my spears.” He slid Eku from his lap. Wing picked up two sticks on the ground. His spears were in Topozelmu’s hut. He stood. “I stood there and held the spears out. Like this.” He held his arms straight out to the side. “I began to raise them and lower them. I wanted the bear to think I was big. I felt big. Much bigger than I am.” Wing kept moving the spears rhythmically as he’d done. “The bear didn’t know what to think. It kept looking at my meat. Suddenly I began to shout at the bear to go. I used my deepest voice. I was forceful.” He demonstrated while moving the spears. He felt he was reliving the experience. “I think forcefulness important. It shifted bear’s attention from the meat to me. I stomped the ground and yelled at the bear. I moved toward it with strong purpose.” He demonstrated. For a moment as he relived the charge he made, he was transformed in the eyes of the people. They could envision the young man transformed into a fierce threat to the bear. “For some reason, I frightened the bear. It turned and ran away fast.”