aaron_the fall of america_chapter_15

Chapter 15

The constant silence is unnerving. There hasn't even been a wind strong enough to move the leaves to create a little background noise. At times, I've wanted to scream but I don't know what might hear me. There is nothing to justify my fear; there is no sign of animals or insects. There were those bug things in my entrapment but the more I think about it, the more I think I brought them and my walls with me in the jump.

If I walk with a strong step, I can leave footprints in the ground. I've experimented with walking straight lines out from my home base. When I feel I've gone far enough on an exploration, I follow my tracks back to re-establish my bearings. I've gone on three such expeditions. The first outing was terrible tentative. Because I was more concerned with leaving a trail than finding anything, I found nothing.

On my second outing I searched for some form of sustenance. I discovered a tree with what looked like deep purple, lop-sided, football fruit. I had to haul on it with all my weight to break it free of the branch. When it finally snapped loose, it crashed to the ground, slamming hard enough to crack it open. After watching to see if anything strange happened, I pried the thing apart to look inside. Common sense told me to leave it be but it was also senseless to apply common sense to something uncommon to my senses. The skin was as thick as my wrist. Black things, which I guessed to be seeds, were suspended in a brown, gooey slime. I didn't want to touch it and if I had remembered the question, I certainly would have left eating this fruit out of it. Unfortunately, I had little choice. I was at a point of dehydration. I slid my hand in the slime to pull out a little. Concentrating on not vomiting, I put a small drop in my mouth. There was a mild tartness to it. Mostly it was water.

I slurped on some more of it before carrying it back to my home base. I had a long rest after finishing my fruit, then went on another journey. On that journey, I found some tiny, bright orange berries. I couldn't force myself to eat them. Just the taste of the skin made me nauseous. They were surely poisonous. I decided to use them as trail markers so I wouldn't have to stomp through the woods. By placing them every second step, I could gage distances by counting the number of berries I dropped.

I had had plenty of liquid from the big fruit but I still hadn't found running water. Dirt clung to me like loneliness. Hopelessness shadowed me in the darkness but I fell into the comfortable arms of sleep with a mild sense of a day’s accomplishments. Even though I took a few tears in with me, there was a faint optimism for a full recovery.



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by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project