The Lady In The Jungle

I had heard in the news that the birth of boys rises after a war. It makes sense that it should, but it does not make sense how our physiology determines the change.

I was at the edge of the jungle, a small village, by village I say no more than seven scattered living spaces, which were certainly man made but all out of natural and local materials. The lack of heavy trucks and machinery made them natural, and so like so many natural things they rotted and even allowed other things to live within so as to be consumed before the actual rotting or drying would parade.

Why was I here? Because I had decided to move outside of the big city to live in a place where cement and plastic were not masters, a place where living things shared their living space with me, and I with them, I wanted to be near a place where birds still dared to fly an mass, where their song would not drown in sirens and horns; I wanted a little quiet for the remainder of my life, even my feed would be acquire in a quiet manner, fishing, fruit and vegetables. If it would not grow naturally I would not farm it, and if it fought like a tiger or a boar I would not hunt it, even a rabbit would be a luxury to catch, fish were streaming by, they did not give much thought to hooks. Maybe illness brought to me by overly friendly mosquitoes would consume me early on, but the stress of working for a living and fearing all the political tensions of crime and war; I figured I had a better chance in the wild with the animals. Besides there was really no other place to escape, there just aren’t that many places anymore.

The natives here were Indians, I told them I was scouting for a campsite to rest my limbs and heart, and they understood that right away. The place held high all of its ambitions, they were all fulfilled, parts of it always seem to be wanting to kill you and parts of it seemed to be wanting to mesmerize you, I was ready for either, the disadvantages of not having a banking institution would never manifest themselves here. There would not be a need for me to pay for land, I would just squat somewhere and sink into its grass and rock and call it mine no more than anything here belongs to anyone for there is none to title your property, nor none willing to tax it, beasts will hunt you and the natives will walk through you, but none will sleep where you sleep nor challenge you to call it theirs. But then they know you won’t be long in dying or moving on, there is nothing that keeps anything here, but the same things keep on growing back. I squatted in between some bold rocks, and scattered skinny trunk trees, and mostly dry grass, contrasting its wheat yellow against the rising splendor of the luscious green and brown and wet and dark jungle.

The first few weeks the fishing went well, the fire was harder to maintain, it burns fast and you want to keep it going all night to defend against the night hunters, all jungle creatures fear fire and with just cause, for when it flames around these parts there is none to stay and win over a fire, you are just expected to run and most will die. The fruits, mostly bananas and mango, were good and always fresh but having not the desire to climb trees I opted for the fallen which did have more a bitter rot but still were edible.

A normal jungle by all claims, occasionally I suffered the cold nights, and the overly hot days, but give me hot any day for there I could sink into the river and let the water cool my blood and drop my heat, but the cold was harder to remove, not hunting I large beasts, and not finding one that had not but skeleton all gone, just what rope-like blankets survived and stolen from the trees, and barriers asked to beg a surrender from the winds, which I must say were few but still enough.

But then one day the lady came, from the city the natives told me, and a few men came with her and built her a big house made of trees and then they left, and left here there all by herself. We watched the house being built, all amazed and how fast it was done, and never did we approach it, in the jungle you know to let all things new and strange be, and not go near them until they have made it clear that they will stay, and then wait still yet to see that that they don’t die or get killed and wait long, and them maybe get closer with sight, and stare at it for a while, and get used to the odd noises it might introduce, and then one day, you get closer and sort of sniff your way around it, acting like you sort of own the place and are questioning what this new creature is happening to be doing here, and this sort of process can take months, until you feel that the creature having not died, and surviving from the local environment has come to smell some what like you smell and so you finally pace around each other, and act like you are not out to kill one another, but still keep your distance because if the case comes that you are really hungry and there is but nothing else to eat, you will devour, without excuse, something that smells just like you.

Some of the natives and I would sit on the grass near her shack and chew the grass and not ask anything, we just chewed the grass. Occasionally the sun would rise in heat and we would wipe the sweat from our brow with our arms and never wonder if the grass hats were making us hotter or colder, in some ways we wore them for looks and rank, they were the only thing that we spent a lot of time making. So we would watch her heavy home, and say nothing to her, had we been in the city sure it would have been that some one would have called the cops on us, but here we could stare. And bless her with no mal intent.

As the original outsider I spoke the language of the city, but I had lost much of it from lack of use, but even the Indians spoke a cross of native and city tongue. So we could all have gone to talk to her, but we did not, besides she only came out to pick fruits and vegetables, leaves and then go back inside. Occasionally she would take out a camera, and shoot pictures of the sunsets and the sunrises, of the birds and fruit trees but none of us, she did not take any pictures of us.

Then days came when she too would sit outside of her log home, she was a secretly beautiful woman, dressed in light colored clothes, and she would sit there all day and we would sit there all day, and no one would say anything, and no one seemed uncomfortable with the strange proposition that we had not talked to her, but I was a little uncomfortable with it, and I wanted to talk to her, but I did not.

I was fishing my daily catch, had caught two big fish, at least as big as half an arm and when this happened I would share it with my quiet friends; only I got into the grass land and no one there. I sat and waited, for it was not unusual for them to be gone for hours a time, though not all, but still, and yet the fish was cooking on the sun, and none arrived, and I sat there, forgetting my hunger and my excitement with the fish.

But come some hours I heard some noises and woke from my trance of disappointment, and her door opened, and out came my fellows, all smiles, showing off their rotting teeth, and seeming all too friendly with the lady. And one by one, I counted them thirteen, came out of there and seemed quiet grateful with her hosting.

I flung the fish into the grass and went into my living space and sunk into the anger I could not express nor understand why its origin. I heard some foxes sinking their teeth into my catch, I heard the fish sinking into their stomachs, I heard the foxes sink the waste into the earth, I heard a snake release her eggs to crack, I heard bats drowning, I heard owls sleep the night, I awakened unslept, awoke from feeling a banana slug crawling up my thigh. I squashed it hard, splattering wide, and rose to my feet, unfed but suffering not from hunger but from strange anger.

That day too, my friends had gone into her hut, and I not knowing why, stood by watch, like a good dog waiting for his master to safely return from a hunt, or from the night, I sat and waited, and watch the vultures ringing circles strangely around our camp, where nothing dead and yet they kept their center there, and circle flew their flawless flight, with knowing gaze, and circle slow and fast, as if knowing well that soon would come.

The next day and the next day same, where they forgot about me, but then I knew that we were not into remembering each other, some had died before and we had never given to remember them on the next day, where absence living is a way of life for no one knows when some will part into extinction row. I ceased all fishing, and ate some bitter fruits, and slept the sleepless nights, and hungered my anger.

Then a day came, where I sat was come upon by two men riding camels. I had never seen camels in the jungle not thought it possible for them to exist here, but they were here, huge big living things, bigger than a tiger, why I was just as tall as half their legs and not beyond. But something strange, I standing near saw that there were bricks, jagged bricks, between their joints at the knees to make them taller, or so I presumed. I thought how painful must that be for the poor animals but they did not seem to be in any pain, they behaved like any horse that had been properly domesticated, occasionally they would move their necks to stretch their reigns but the riders would pull them back and hold them in their place before me. I could not cease my amazement at the bricks between the joints, and wandered how it was all holding together, and still even managed to imagine some pains unknown to them, which made me make some wrinkled faces.

One of them men indifferent to my confusion moved his beast closer to me, and asked me where the lady was, I pointed at her log house, and they moved on, I still thinking how it was that these camels could be here. Once near the lady’s place, one of them shouted something aloud, maybe her name, and she came out and they loaded her by handing arm up into the camel. She was smiling and happy to see them, and they moved around, walking the camels as they both talked to her.

I took a chance and made my way to her log home, and entered the door where I found my friends all huddled before a chalkboard. Some had canned food in their hands, with beans and vegetables in them. At first they stared at me as if I was a stranger but then they recognized me and quickly chained friendly gestures, until all thirteen were one large smile. I did not say anything, but read, as I was capable the writing on the chalkboard.

“How to start a trading business.” “How to sell for cash your goods to the city people.” “What to do with your cash.” “What is cash” and more then there was another board, a magnetic board, and on there were magnetic representations of mangos and rabbits and fish, and they were moved from the forest towards the city, and then on the other side was a picture of a satisfied trader that looked like any and all Indians. I got me a solemn and dark face.

And then one of them, asked me to answer one of the questions on the chalkboard, question number four. “How can you trade something that nobody wants?” I laid on the floor and looked at the question from that angle, in the jungle we learn by looking at things from different angles, from the floor “How can you trade something that nobody wants?” I looked around the room and saw my friends, some standing, some sitting, some leaning, some also laying on the floor, and thought I not know this could make sense from any angle. I knew that they thought I could answer the question but if so I had forgotten how.

But we were all confused, and we laughed at our confusion, when unexpectedly the lady came in with the two men. She immediately looked at me and asked what was with us all; which one replied that I had not answered number four either, adding that I had lived in the city like the lady. She looked more at me and said “you can answer the question.” And while speaking those words she shared her smile with the men that had come in those big camels. They nodded with approving gestures of what must have been her conjecture. I got up on my feet and smiling more and said, “no I can’t.” and walked out towards the river to do my fishing.
Once upon the river edge, I was surprised to see my thirteen friends joining me to catch the fish where were I tell you as long as half my arm if not beyond. And we went back and ate the fish and never did we look again towards her log home, where soon the lady banished.

RC