Returning Home

The tribe was restless, excited. Not only had the hunters and gatherers brought in enough food for the entire mob to eat, but it was also the day in which a traveller had been rumoured to be coming to their lands.

It was a rare occurrence for the tribe to have a visitor, being so far north where the humidity was unbearable for those not birthed there, and water was most precious, so the mob remained vigilant, staring off into the distance, children asking for updates almost relentlessly throughout the day.

News of the visitor travelled by word of mouth, as they always do in this day and age. The McBroughs to the South East had heard it from the Fetterer’s to the South of them.

It was rumoured that the traveller was Uncle, a former tribe member, who left the tribe unexpectedly one night, when he was a spritely, active young man. There wasn’t a person alive that remembers when Uncle left the family as his most of his family had all walked to the sacred death lands and passed on to the next realm of life.

The Elders murmured stories of him to the young, answering their incessant questions about Uncle and his wanderings.

Uncle was nowhere to be seen until almost nightfall. As the last rays gleamed a burnished copper over the hills to the East, the youth that kept watch spotted a lone shadowy figure. The figure was thin, and unkempt, and travelled at a slow pace, as if he was weary and needed nourishment and rest.

The youth alerted the Elders and the change in the collective mood of the tribe changed instantly. Children whooped and danced, youths made music and sang, even the Elders smiled and nodded with approval.

At last, the raggedy form of an old man with unkempt white, grey grizzled hair and beard faltered down through the external homes into the middle of the gathering. With filmy dark eyes, Uncle stood and stared at the clan. After what seemed an eternity, Uncle opened his arms up wide, grinned a broken toothy grin and for a moment looked like he was going to sing to the sky.

The mob stood silent, waiting for Uncle to speak. Uncle cleared his throat and spoke, “Well, I’ve been down and back again, I’ve seen this great land, but now I’m coming to see you’s.”

The Elders nodded their approval and with that, Uncle was ushered to the nicest seat by the fire and given a bowl of hot, steaming stew. As Uncle ate, the Elders told him of the births, marriages, and deaths of the tribe. Uncle paused only to nod acceptance and to wipe his beard of the barely chewed food that escaped his gapped teeth.

After the youth bore away his used bowl, they brought him precious water and offered him as much as the traveller needed to slake his thirst, Uncle shifted, excused himself for relieve and returned to resettle by the fire.

The mob grew silent, with only birth bearers shushing their young so that all could hear Uncle’s tidings. Dark eyes grew large, framed by long dark hair, and mirrored the flames leaping into the sky.

Uncle coughed a dry cough, and began patting his torn and raggedy clothing, murmuring to himself. The mob watched, growing restless as Uncle uttered words and phrases that were confused jumbles of language with seemingly no connection. Uncle also appeared to be moving his hands, as if he was performing an imaginary task.

The Elders of the mob looked at each other, eyes full of meaning. The Elders had seen this before. It was the start of the poisoning madness, the madness that comes from travelling through, or consuming food and water from the sick lands. It was rumoured to be full of craters with little to no life, burnt sticks and rocks, and what was left of complicatedly developed houses, so much different to their rudimentary homes built out of scrap and found items.

The tribe became restless, shifting on the dirt, fidgeting with their hair, or turning to look at each other and whispering. Suddenly, an infant made a loud gurgle and was quickly shushed by its mother.

Uncle appeared to shake himself out of the stupor, and spread another gapped smile across his weathered face. He rubbed a hand across his chin, making a raspy sound, while the other hand reached into his chest pocket and pulled a tarnished but gleaming item.

The mob immediately hushed and stared at the item in Uncle’s hand.

Uncle brought it closer to the fire so that the item spread a heart-shaped shadow across his face. The mob could see its colour, a silver, much like the fish that can be found in the local rivers. It appeared heavy, and strung upon a thin silver line. The tribe collectively leant closer to view the loops and swirls of the heart and to pay respect the story Uncle was about to tell. After all, there was no reason why a tribe member would want such a useless item, but then again, Uncle wasn’t a normal clansman.

With a stilted, stiff flourish Uncle opened the heart to reveal a photograph of a pale birth bearer and what appeared to be a lock of yellow hair. This reveal elicited rapt attention from all of the mob.

Uncle began,” It was said that this birth bearer was the reason for the End of The World.”

The tribe members gasped. Uncle nodded approvingly at the reaction. He handed the locket over to the nearest youth to him and signalled for it to be passed around for all to see.

“It was passed to me from my Elders, and from their Elders before them.”

The young women of the mob took turns to study the petite but stern pale face of the picture, and placed their locks of hair next to the one inside the locket, ensuring that they did not match. Each woman and child signalled to each other about the marvellous eyes of blue, and were each relieved and disappointed that their eyes were all dark.

“She was the leader of the great Mob, you know. She was the Elder that led all of us because we weren’t broken into the many that we are today.”

The men waited for the birth bearers to finish caressing the hair and measuring their dark skin colour against the pale of the picture.

“It was said that she was a great but feared leader and that all of the other tribes over the great seas feared her and worked to appease her. All tribes except for one.”

It was the men’s turn to hold the item now, but instead of studying the hair and picture, they weighed the locket in their hands, ran their fingers over to twisting patterns and considered the value of such a relic.

“I was told by the Elders that this tribe wouldn’t do what the Elder wanted and this made her very mad.

She used her greatest hunters to seek out the Tribe and to kill their greatest hunters in the night, to make them weak so they would do what they were told to do.

Instead of making the Elder of that tribe accept our Elder’s orders, he kept telling her no.

And this angered her greatly.”

Uncle paused and coughed. He started again, staring into the fire, mouth moving as if he had no control over it.

“Our Elder was so mad that she brought down great metal spears from the sky that made the huge craters in the lands over the sea and poisoned the lands. The tribe she was trying to destroy did the same and turned our land barren, hot and spread our tribe all over the land.

The seas boiled and for lots of days and nights dead fish stunk up the beaches. The poison leaked into our plants and waters and many of the tribes died from the poisoning sickness.”

Uncle’s eyes watered, but tears did not spill. It was not wise to waste water in these lands.

“Our people were spread across the land, separated by the sickness and poison. Some people had no choice but to eat the poisoned foods and to drink the poisoned water. When they did, they started to cough and become sick and then die within days of eating it.

But over time, we became stronger and those who were left behind were strong enough to eat the food and drink the water and those with the white skin like hers died. “

An Elder handed the locket back to Uncle. Uncle opened the locket and caressed the picture of the blonde lovingly.

Uncle began again, this time talking to the locket.

“I’ve been told that she’s still alive, under the ground somewhere. The Elders said that because she was such a great and respected leader, she had already planned to have an underground cave dug where she could live a very long life. I’ve even been told that the cave has a lot of people that look just like her, with light skin, hair and eyes. They say those people can’t live up here like us because they can’t be under the sun without burning and blistering to death.”

Closing the locket with a click, Uncle pushed it back into his chest pocket.

“I’ve been all over the place and I’ve seen the craters, the poisoned lands and the other tribes. I would see a child or birth bearer with one of those things, a beautiful light bit of hair, or a blue eye, but never all three and no one can tell me where the underground cave is. I’ve paid for information and I’ve hurt for it, but no one can tell me where she is so I can tell her how much she has meant to me.

So, I keep walking, looking for her. I know she’s close. I can feel it.”

The Elders nod respectfully, silently. They have seen much of the sickness and know that Uncle is suffering with delusions that come from it.

Uncle pokes the coals with a stick and places another bit of wood on the fire. Embers float into the sky and disappear into the stars. Uncle appears to be lost, distracted by his own thoughts, mouth moving as if he was still talking, but no discernible noises being made.

After a few minutes, Uncle alternates between wiping his cloudy eyes and staring into the fire. Confusedly, Uncle looks up at the mob and returns to stiffly poking the fire with his stick.

The Elders nudge the youths and birth bearers gather their children up quietly and make their way to their homes. Uncle has brought them much to think about and more to dream about.

Soon, all that it left by the fire is Uncle, who softly cackles and jabbers to himself. He sits in the soft red dust, alone, deep into the freezing night.

When morning comes, the young children get up and search for Uncle. They have many questions to ask him about the End of The World. But Uncle isn’t found.

All that can be located are his bare foot tracks leading to the sacred death lands where he could finally be united with his dream locket woman in the next realm of life.