They
watch from afar…
Story: It is no matter if I
lay absolutely still in the soil, nor if I stand erect and run; they stare,
motionless, as if in disbelief. I’m
sure they think I’m crazy. Silent
bastards or better yet, tormentors! I’ve
called to them at the top of my lungs, yet they choose to ignore my salutations.
They’ve chosen to ignore the fool.
Standing off in the distance as if superior in some way!
Many times I have walked up upon them without warning and startled them;
all movement and sound stops immediately as they exude and ‘air’ of
indifference. Not knowing their
intentions, I give them a wide berth and go around.
Usually they’re never close enough to present a problem; as such and
most often they are out of reach. Today
we will find out who the hunters are and just who is being hunted!
I have concocted a daring scheme. Many
times during the course of the year, horrendous dust storms can appear without
warning. They race across the
plateau every day when the sun is directly overhead; tearing up nature and all
who are unlucky enough to be in their path.
With the storms help, I may escape the gaze of my tormentors and be free
of fear for the first time. When the
sun’s breath stirs the sand, and the dust storms blind our gaze, I shall dart
into the blinding fury and hopefully vanish.
A simple, yet dangerous plan, and hopefully I can escape under nature’s
shroud of darkness. Surely if
I cannot see, neither can they? I
will outrun the sulking, lumbering, behemoths, it’s my only chance.
My strength must hold! I
haven’t been able to sleep for fear of being stalked in the night and
attacked! As such, I’ve grown weak
and exhausted. Silence is their
ultimate weapon; nonetheless, their massive army cannot be hidden simply by
remaining off in the distance and feigning indifference.
Perhaps they figure they are just outside my range?
Who knows? In war, who are
the crazy ones, leaders or those who follow without question?
Their psychology has me doubting myself, yet they’ve said nothing nor
given any clues as to their intentions. I
wonder, are they really that crafty, or is luck theirs today?
After all, if they harbor any ill intentions towards me, they cloak their
plans well. Unfortunately, my taunts
have fallen on deaf ears, for silence is their only reply.
Their numbers are too many for one breath.
Although erratic in design, they hold fast their lines of defense!
If my movements have effects on their strategy, they have not shown it to
my back, for they have yet to advance towards me; nor have they moved their
lines when I walk in their direction. They
wait; they always wait for me to make the first move.
Soon I will answer the questions they ask each other, I will solve their
mystery! Confirmations of their
guesses and wonderment elude them. Fear
of what they have not seen or heard stands in the way of their victory!
They must know I am one of three possibilities.
Insomuch, if I am the first, they know, pride and arrogance can kill, if
I am the second, insanity has forbid me to wake from my dream.
Perhaps they fear the third possibility the most.
The possibility there is simply a lonely man standing on the other side
of the plateau looking back at them? When
your life’s blood, depends on constant armament and strategy, what do you do
when confronted with something which requires none of your survival directive,
that which has given you a reason to exist?
This may be the most precious enigma of all?
The first two possibilities coincide with what their observations have
told them. Their greatest sense is
the power of observation; if the ‘enemy’ is the third possibility, their
powers of observation have faults .Perhaps the one they have been watching from
afar is the bearer of mysteries! Perhaps
also a messenger who simply fears
the unknown? I wonder if the great
army in the distance hesitates because they
don’t know if I am an enigma; they do not know if I am the third
possibility? I cannot wait for them.
I have made up my mind, I’m not a fool, nor am I their clown!
I will dance for their entertainment one more time.
I will become a magician and give them a show!
The winds are starting now. I
will let the watchers see me lay in a crevasse
as always to shield myself from the stinging sand. I
will be obvious ‘here I am you starring fools, here I am.’
I lay motionless as the sand whirls above me and stings the flesh of my
arms protecting my head. Surely they
cannot see in this blinding darkness? The
sand storm must do my bidding this once! The
searing sand will hide my escape! Hah,
hah! Slowly I crawl out of my hole.
First to my knees, and finally afoot.
I will run as long as my strength holds.
I know I have fooled them, I know I have won!
I must win, I must. The sand
sticks to the moisture around my eyes and cakes to my tears.
My nostrils are clogged and caked also.
I pierced my lips ever so slightly to sip air into my aching lungs.
If I breath in sand I am doomed, I shall not recover.
In my blind stumbling, I have lost my way; my direction has abandoned me.
The sun has gone! Dust, heat
and stinging sand take turns killing me. Can
they be void of life if they are merciless?
The ringing in my ears assures me my equilibrium has also failed me; my
dizziness tells me, I am stumbling in circles.
I can run no more. I cannot
breath. I trip and fall forward
through the stinging sand. Without
the strength to protect myself, the great earth rises up with a great force to
slam my head. The ringing in my left
ear and the warm blood running from my broken nose, are only enhanced by the
simultaneous loss of hearing and feeling of total helplessness as I gratefully
slip into unconsciousness. Sounds of
the screaming storm fade with my last movement.
I can hear nothing. I am
covered with a warm blanket of sand. I
am like a sand crab digging out of the beach.
Slowly, very slowly, while pressing my eye lids shut, I gently wipe the
abrasive sand particles from my eyes. Shading
my eyes from the burning sun, I look around.
My heart starts pounding, and my eyes fill with tears as I awkwardly
steady my legs. I have lost, for
before me lay the enemy! I did not
fool them after all. They are very
close, and surround me as I stand. I
wonder ‘to them am I obviously shaken?’
Do I appear demoralized? Beaten?
They have obviously gone to great pains to exhibit superiority with their
great display of force! Their great
number and size is staggering! I
slowly turn and look behind me; what is this?, there are none at my back!
They tower over me, and surround me on three sides, for what?
Is this a game? Can this be,
can this be all there is? Is the
game over? Do I just acknowledge
their superiority and leave? I start
laughing, I can’t suppress the urge! Whatever
is going to happen is going to happen.
For something this complicated; a week of cat-and-mouse to end in a
display of senseless overkill just seems hilarious.
Besides, other than killing me, what the hell else can happen?
I’m laughing uncontrollably now. They
are silently revisiting their ‘three possibility scenario’ and are more
confused than before my great escape as to which one I am!
Hell, I’m a little confused too! If
I play the idiot will they let me go? If
I’m lucky, it’s against their religious beliefs to kill a hapless fool.
Especially one who is howling in the
Slowly I turn, taking great care not to stare at them or make any jerky,
sudden moves. I begin to walk slowly
through the great army. None made a
sound or taunted me. They just
watched in silence as I retreated. I
realized they too have taken great care not to make any sudden moves.
A rush of gratefulness came over me, a feeling of acceptance and
understanding. Finally, I
turned to face my adversaries on last time, and saw were just as I had left
them, they had not moved from the spot of our first altercation.
I now realize they never meant me any harm.
They, like me, were curious about the stranger on the plateau and were
also terrified of the unknown. Weeks
have passed and as I watch the massive herds of them off in the distance, I
wonder if we are friends? Can two
different and distinct species ever be friends?
Do we really need communication of sounds, or can a ‘presence’ as
‘feeling’ be enough for peace?
For lack of a better word, I will call my new friends, “rocks”.
RJ