subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_06

Chapter 6


A terrifying screaming rang through my head. After struggling to consciousness, I found that it was my own voice I heard. I panicked and fought. As hard as I tried to focus my attention and senses, I could not figure out what I was doing.

Water engulfed me. Suddenly, I had been thrown into existence and had landed in a raging river with a rope around my neck. The rushing water nearly tore my face off as I struggled to climb onto a rock.

Why did I feel so much pain?

Every time I tried to open my eyes, I had to shut them again because too much pain accompanied the light that burst into my brain. I untangled the rope from around my neck and legs, losing my footwear in the process.

I put my hand to my head. It hurt. I knew I was bleeding, but I forced myself to open my eyes to look at the blood on my hand. I wiped my hand on my leg and touched my head again. More blood on my hand. I wiped my hand on my leg and touched my head once more. Still more blood. I felt along the wound. Most of it seemed to be scabbed over, so I assumed that I had opened a previous wound. I could not remember what happened.

I was going to lie down to rest but decided that that was probably how I had ended up in the water fighting to get out of the water to crawl onto a rock. I did not want to fall into forgetful unconscious sleep again then roll off into the water to wake up to frightful desperate struggling to survive long enough to crawl up onto a rock to lie and bleed and fall into forgetful sleep only to fall off the rock and find myself struggling in the torrential river fighting to get back onto a rock where I could wait for the same thing to happen over and over again and again.

I was determined to escape the hellish reoccurrence of fighting for life and waiting for sleep to throw me back into the water, fighting for life to be struggling to find a safe place to die. Or dying to struggled for life.

I opened my eyes forcing them to focus.

If I was tactful, I could move from one rock to another to escape the water of death and rebirth forever. I made that my immediate goal.

My head pounded. I slowly moved from one rock to another before finally making my way safely to the bank of the river. Thinking I had lost something or had forgotten something, I walked along the river searching for clues or signs of what I was without.

Although I might have had an idea of what was missing, I forgot what it was when I started becoming delirious from hunger and pain. I could not go on following the riverbank. Whatever was lost, if I had lost anything, I would have to go on without it.

Where was I going?

I lost control of my legs for a second and fell, jamming my leg in between two rocks. I wanted desperately to close my eyes, to lose myself in sleep, but I knew it was too soon to die. There had to be something. I pushed myself up from the rocks and crawled up the bank away from the water.

With nothing but my pain, I left the river, and whatever had been before the river, to plot out a course for my life.

Darkness blanketed the world while rain washed down upon me. The cleansing of the rain was revitalising, but as I walked across the open valleys and fields looking for things to eat, I began to shiver from exposure.

My wandering through darkness alone in the wilderness seemed natural, but I senses it was a futile struggled. It was absurd to just endeavour to survive until I died? What did I expect to find as I moved aimlessly over the terrain?

Finally, I was about to surrender to oblivion. I could lie down on the wet ground to let the rain wash me away. But I was distracted. Without any sign to warn me, I came upon the strangest path. It was twice as wide, maybe three times as wide as I was tall. It was flat with sharp stones covering it, not a natural thing. It could not have been worn that way.

It must have been constructed that way. With only a minute of deliberation, I decided to utilise what to me seemed the way I had to go. Choosing a direction, I started to walk. The stones hurt my bare feet so I walked beside the path as much as possible.

Still, I needed to sleep. And food. I was dazed and confused.

Soon after I had settled into a pace, the path of stones was intersected by a path with a hard flat surface. It was smooth and much more inviting than the path that had brought blood from my feet. I was about to adopt the new path when I noticed a structure that had to have been constructed by intelligent life. I had vague memories of structures, but I could not discriminate dreams form waking memories. I could not determine what I was imagining. I wondered if my life was only a dream.

The structure demanded investigation. In front of the structure, there were two small smooth structures as high as my chest. The things were both the same shape and size. They had thick, black rubbery tails that looped out on the sides and back in again. In all their elaboration of construction, I could see no use in them. They smelled odd as well.

At the structure I heard evidence of life within. I could see we were going to have a bit of a problem communicating. It wagged its tail as I tried to open what I figured to be the entranceway. It would not open so I went around to the other side of the structure only to find more entrances that would not open. They must have been broken because the creature inside could not open any of the entrances either.

I would not quit trying because I had to get into the structure to dry off and sleep. Meticulously, I examined the first entrance I had tried before determining the round mechanism that stuck out at one side must have been jammed or broken. I tried as hard as I could to turn and pull it. Finally, in confused frustration, I slammed my shoulder against the entrance restriction. It flew open.

The next thing I could perceive was that I was lying on the floor and the hairy creature was licking my face. That was a fine welcome. I got up and licked his face hoping he would accept it as a return greeting.

I was curious about food. Since the furry creature did not understand any of my grunting or gesturing, I took on the responsibility of finding my own food. Why I assumed there was food there, I had no idea, but I was determined to find some. Eventually I lifted a lid on a metal bow to find small containers of cold liquid standing erect, beckoning for attention.

They seemed foreign and familiar at the same time. I held one on the containers in my hand to examine it. There was no way in. I shook the container and pulled on it. Then, in frustration, I put the thinnest part between the wall and the box and pushed and pulled trying to bend it. With a quick sharp pull, I exploded the container in my hands.

I screamed at the surprise. The furry creature yelled once, lowered its ears and skulked away. It seemed disturbed by my improper functioning. When the creature was lying a comfortable distance away from me, I returned my attention back to my own predicament.

A piece of the object was embedded in my wrist. I carefully removed it. Blood fell to the floor. The liquid from the container was bubbling with an entrancing sound as well as emanating a sweet fragrance. I licked some of the liquid off my arm. It had an entertaining sweetness, but it had an emptiness that made me wonder if it was to be drunk.

My hand was leaking blood. Even after I had wrapped my hand and wrist with pieces of my clothing, blood still flowed at an alarming rate. I wrapped another piece tighter before I went on about my original conquest: food.

The next endeavour was less hazardous and much more entertaining. With a mild delirium, I ripped open several bags of light dry food. I ate very little of it because I could not accept the strong taste which was contradicted by the lack of sustenance. The creature seemed to enjoy the flavoured air food, so I left it for him.

The next thing I discovered was nothing I could eat but gave me more pleasure than a feast. It was a colour representation of what had to be the other sex. She must have been a worker in a dirty business because she had on only tight blue ripped shorts and a bit of a ripped sleeveless shirt that concealed part of her rather large chest and these and her legs and arms and a spot on her face had black smeared over. But she was happy. She held something in her hand and smiled at me. I wished she was real but she stayed there on the wall. Dirty and happy.

My brain was receiving too many pain signals to function properly. I had to give up my food quest. I collapsed on the floor, curled up like a foetus and fell into a sleep. It was a sleep taunted by strange dreams, dreams of struggling, dreams of confusion. No connections.



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. chapter_07



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