CHAPTER FIFTEEN – JUJU’S HAIRA Chapter by Peter RogersonAfter Melvin's wounds get attended to Aurora comes out with a DNA bombshellThe gash down Melvin’s side looked dreadful and filled both Umbaga and Carpa with foreboding as they struggled along, sharing the burden, but when they arrived back at the Umbaga cave to find Aurora and Juju apparently engaged in what would have seemed an unlikely conversation before they left, and they examined the spaceman’s wounds it was to find that the gash was more cosmetic than real, being a copious trail of blood from a deep cut on the man’s shoulder running down an overall made of a similar woven material to that worn by Aurora. Nevertheless, the crimson staining signalled considerable blood-loss, which worried the cave-people. “Hurt,” murmured Juju to Aurora, and she set about dealing with an injury that neither of the space travellers could have coped with properly without any specialised equipment. But Juju was well acquainted with all manner of serious injuries, being a woman. It was a consequence of the dangerous time they lived in, and the scars born by not only Umbaga but one or two of their neighbours were testament to her skill. Existence was lived on a fine line separating life from death, and it was all too easy for a hunter far from his home cave to slip onto the wrong side of it, and if he was unlucky, never return. Juju nodded, and set about tearing back the overall so that she could see the extent of the damage before cleaning the wound and frowning when she saw how deep it was. Then, without consulting anyone, she took a fine bone needle and a length of fine cord that she had made from reed-pith dried under the sun and set about stitching the gaping edges back together. Aurora looked at her in admiration. She knew quite a lot about such procedures, had been obliged to attend classes before she and Melvin had set out on their journey, but those lessons had taught her about stainless steel needles, sutures, clips, staples, all the paraphernalia of a medic’s cupboard, and made no reference to crude bone needles and home-made thread. Yet all this cave woman had was a bone needle, some salve which Aurora was prepared to bet was antiseptic, and a length of home-made twine, and yet she would have found it impossible to do so neat a job herself with all her more sophisticated equipment. It was, however, just as well that Melvin had slipped into unconsciousness or he would have noticed the lack of anaesthetic. Stitching using a bone needle could be very painful. “Is done,” she said to Aurora when she had wiped the sutured edges for the last time, using a soft piece of leather and yet more of her salve. “Is done,” repeated Aurora, and she smiled her gratitude at Juju. “Thanks,” she added. Juju frowned. “Thanks,” she said, then the meaning dawned. “Aurora kind,” she purred. “You talking?” demanded Umbaga, “You know words?” Umbaga nodded, and went to the back of the cave. “We eat,” she said, firmly. “Then we drink,” she added, a twinkle in her eyes. The meal was plentiful but Aurora didn’t particularly like the meat that had been baked by the sun a day or two earlier, but she forced some down anyway. Melvin still slept, groaning occasionally in his sleep. When they had finished eating Juju brought a leather bottle containing some kind of fermented liquid - obviously these people had discovered alcohol before they discovered fire - and they passed it around, taking a deep draught of it each. To Aurora it was pleasant but a little earthy, but she was thirsty and drank it anyway. From the way it seemed to scorch its way down into her stomach she guessed it had a decent alcohol content, which she found reassuring. Fermentation, she knew, didn’t like too many nasty microbes. “Juju hair,” said Aurora when she had finished her warming drink, and indicating strands of her own hair. In such a way was a language being shared. “Hair. Juju hair,” nodded Juju, adding another word to Aurora’s understanding of her vocabulary and remembering the few strands she had let Aurora take from her. Aurora nodded. “Juju hair,” she affirmed, and slipped back into her own language, knowing that Juju would only understand the odd word but unable to express what she had to say in the dozen or so words she had picked up from the cave people. “I tested it on my machine back on the ship now that Melvin’s got the power up and running, and it gave me quite a surprise.” There could have been no common understanding of so long a sentence, but Aurora couldn’t think of any way she could explain DNA and everything that can by discovered from a knowledge of DNA to a woman who found it impossible to understand fire and the way food can be improved by cooking. “I can’t simplify this so I’ll come out with it,” she said, thoughtfully. “I tested your hair, Juju, and got the shock of my life because it showed you to be related to me, but so distantly it’s unbelievable. You see, I have a couple of percent Neanderthal in my DNA, everyone does, and from what I can see and what the computer back on the ship tells me, you’re one hundred percent Neanderthal!” “Neanderthal...” moaned Melvin from where he lay, “Neanderthal primitives...” Aurora stood up and went to where he lay and shook her head sadly. “They may be primitive, though there’s no record that suggests that Neanderthal folk were any less intelligent than you or I, and this woman has saved your life!” she said firmly. “And what’s more she’s my friend and I don’t like any man calling my friends names!” She returned to Juju. She indicated herself, then she pointed at Juju and Umbaga. “Cousins,” she said. Juju frowned. Then … “Cousins,” she repeated, not sure what the word meant but determined to store it in her memory anyway. Language lessons may well have continued - after all, communication is the very basis of understanding - but for the sudden crash that came from outside. Aurora had scarcely ever heard such a shocking noise, though the cave-people clearly had, and she found herself cowering, an almost primitive reaction to a sudden threat from the unknown. There may not have been many thunderstorms where Aurora came from, but Earth, where they now were (as the astute reader may have guessed), has plenty of them. And accompanying the crash came the sound of rain falling heavily. “Rainy season,” Umbaga said to Aurora, and he led her to the cave entrance. Sheets of rain were falling having apparently come from nowhere, and a brilliant series of lightning flashes seared the skies followed almost immediately by a second rolling crash of thunder. “Rain,” whispered Juju from just behind them. The she put one hand out until the rain wet it. “Rain,” she repeated. “Rain,” nodded Aurora. “Rain good,” smiled Juju. “Rain good,” agreed Aurora, and the three of them returned to where Melvin was trying to struggle to his feet. “What’s all the noise? Is it war?” he asked, trying to sound as wakeful as he could, but failing miserably, “There’s no war here, silly,” laughed Aurora. “Don’t you understand? These people are peaceful. They don’t understand wars, so don’t you put the idea into their minds! Instead, when you’re feeling a bit better you can teach them how to light a fire to improve their diet!” “I don’t know how to do that!” objected Melvin. “Unless you take a pocket lighter and … light it!” he added. “And if you have no lighter?” asked Aurora. Melvin shrugged. His wound was still very painful as it throbbed, and would no doubt get worse, and he felt grumpy and unusually dizzy. “You go without,” he replied, and lay back down, grimacing. © Peter Rogerson 30.10.16
© 2016 Peter Rogerson |
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Added on October 30, 2016 Last Updated on October 30, 2016 Tags: wounds, stitching, sutures, bone needle, thunderstorm, Neanderthal AuthorPeter RogersonMansfield, Nottinghamshire, United KingdomAboutI am 80 years old, but as a single dad with four children that I had sole responsibility for I found myself driving insanity away by writing. At first it was short stories (all lost now, unfortunately.. more..Writing
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