Page 35 - the Noise July 2016

illustration by sharin jonas
This story happened long, long ago, in a country far, far away ...
a country that no longer exists ...
AWAKENINGS
Based on a past life memory of Jessica Madigan by Art Scott
Part I: Wonderings
“Never go over there, or you’ll surely die,” my father said.
My mother had shooed us out of the house after breakfast, so that she could
begin her cleaning chores.
Father was pointing across the great chasm that separated our farm from the tangled jungle of the undeveloped land. It was a beautiful land, bursting with dazzling, colorful flowers and bushes, towering trees, seemingly joined by looping vines. Flying things were splashes of color, flashing among the branches, with chattering sub-humans swinging around with abandon. The cries and screeches of wild animals faintly reached our ears. Gentle beasts, hoofed and horned, timidly approached the edge at times, but were easily startled and chased away. And there were fearsome dangers there, as well; giant lizards, crashing through the growth on powerful hind limbs, short forelimbs with grasping talons reaching out to grasp any unwary prey that might come near.
We’d observed all this with Farseeers; a type of lens that we held up to our eyes and willed the images to come into closer, sharper focus. We’d observed horrendous killings, when these giant lizards, or their flying counterparts, would seize some unwary prey, and literally rip the writhing creature apart, consuming all of the splashing blood and entrails. Giant, striped cats, with long, saber-like teeth roamed about too, who were no less savage. I knew that my father was being emphatic for a purpose, and that he was speaking truth. Wilderness, he called it. But if someone kept a safe distance, I thought, they would not be in great danger.
On this side of the great chasm, our farm marked the edge of the settled land. We raised growing food and livestock. All of our land and possessions were protected by an energy field which kept all manner of annoying insects out, not to mention those predatory flying lizards from across the chasm, away from us and our animals.
The chasm itself was the result of an ancient earthquake. At its bottom, far below, a cours- ing river flowed, bordered by lush trees and ferns. The other side was about a half hour’s flight from where we stood.
I was eleven at the time, with a lot of time on my hands. Oh, I had chores to do, but they were far from onerous, and I had a lot of time on my hands in the summer months, when I was not being tutored. I had gotten a magnificent gift for the recent holiday — a flying harness. It was a simple, anti-gravity devise, with direction thrusters. Comfortable straps criss-crossed my torso and cradled my crotch. The unit actually encompassed my being in an anti-gravity field. When I activated it, it lifted me comfortably off the ground and pro- pelled me in any direction I wanted to go. I couldn’t keep my hands off the controls, taking short hops here and there. Finally, in exasperation, my father reached up and grabbed my foot, dragging me down to his eye level.
“Odaro, please don’t bounce around when I’m talking to you,” he said. “I’m sorry, father,” I feigned contrition.
“Please act responsibly with your time and your new acquisition.”
I could handle that, all right, I thought. “Yes, father,” I said.
Our foreman, Trunk, was standing nearby, waiting for my father to decide to begin work. Trunk was my great friend. He was my confidante, and knew all my youthful secrets; keep- ing them safe — even from my parents!
Father contemplated me a bit, then broke out into his beautiful smile. His mind often wandered off some time before he did. He tousled my hair absently. “All right, Trunk, let’s go to work,” he said, and the two men strode off.
Leaving me to my aimless bouncing around ...
... while my eyes stared fixedly at that mysterious land on the other side of the great chasm ...
“You will surely die,” my father had said. But I wondered ...
— to be continued ...
35 • {online at thenoise.us} JULY 2016 | the best of arizona | the nöísẽ