ice age
By: Jaime Ertel, 1/31/02

Other humans throw sticks at me, chase me to new places where I feel even more lost and afraid. Loneliness weighs me down, making days seem unbearably long. The storm has quieted; I am now able to see the trees and animals that surround me. The whiteness has settled back onto the ground, where it has formed a rugged, icy surface. I continue to howl, calling for my family.

It feels like eternity since I last touched my father's thick, callused hands. I am terribly lonely without my playful siblings and cousins. I miss the warmth of my mother's loving eyes. Nobody ever warned me that I might end up alone. We had always traveled together, a single unit underneath the giant night sky. I look up at the same sky now; it is still filled with the same brilliant lights as before. I wonder what makes them so bright and so beautiful. My mother and father always told me that the lights were a sign from Our Creator, but sometimes, I'm not sure what I believe.

I will never forget the night we became separated. We were sleeping deeply when my father awoke to some nearby rustling. He feared that savages might be approaching. This had happened once before. Two of our sacks had been stolen and we lost a great deal of meat and stones. To keep this from reoccurring, my father ordered us to get up quickly and quietly. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find that I could not see. The falling snow was thick as mud. And the wind was loud as it screamed across the icy fields. I could hear the panicked cries of my parents as they tried collecting us. My eyes quickly filled with snow and tears. The cries of my parents faded below the wind. I could not tell what direction they were going. Eventually I curled up on the ground alone, hugging my sack, trying to keep warm.

Many days and nights have passed I became lost. Today I have been sitting among the tall weeds, watching the Sabre-toothed cubs wrestling and playing. The protective mother stands tall and proud next to them, keep a sharp eye out for anything that might bring danger. I think of my own mother. I wish that she was here in the brush with me, watching the cubs. She always loved watching the baby animals. I always liked when she would sit behind me. She would twist my long, dark hair into braids, and whisper in my ear, "Shh! Be still now little one, so they won't run away!" Now I sit alone and watch.

The sky is growing dark again, and I fear another terrible storm. My clothes are becoming damp from snow seeping through. My bones cannot stop shivering from the cold, and my stomach is growing hungry. I stand and stretch my cold body. I need to find a cave to sleep in before night falls, or I will surely freeze tonight.

I head towards the setting sun, with hopes of finding someplace safe and dry to sleep. After the sun has sunk very low in the sky, I finally reach the tall mountain I've been striding towards. Up a short distance, I can see a small cave in the side of the rock. Making sure my sack is tied tightly to my waist, I begin to climb. Outside the cave, I pause and listen closely to see if anybody is already inside. It seems to be safe. Carefully, I crawl in.

Inside, it is cold and quiet. The cave is small and I am alone. I vigorously rub my frozen toes to bring back the flow of blood. My entire body feels cracked and dry like the dead grass I've traveled upon for so many days. Snow is caked in my eyes and nostrils; it's difficult to catch my breath. I know that something to eat will make me feel a lot better and I empty the contents of my small brown sack onto the cave floor. My rations grow smaller by the day. A few hunks of mammoth meat and unleavened bread are all that remain. Delirious and without a care, I eat the rest of my supplies and settle onto the cave floor.

Suddenly I remember the flint in my sack. My father had always told us to carry it at all times. I take out the flint and look at it laying there in my small hand. I think of my brothers and sisters, how we used to gather around fires to keep warm. Seeing their faces in my head fills me with warmth as I start a fire for myself. From the glow of the small fire, I now see that one of the cave walls is filled with magnificent drawings: two mammoths bucking horns, four sabre-tooth cubs wrestling in tall grass, a megatherium standing upright, feeding from a tree. I have heard stories about art like this, but never before have I seen any. Looking closely, I see that only one of the cave paintings is of a human. A breathtakingly beautiful female looks down on me from the cave wall, and I cannot help but stare at her in awe. On her head is a tall headdress patterned with birds and beneath her elegant clothing, her breasts and hips are large and round, like my mother's. After a few moments of looking at the attractive female, I add another handful of grass to my fire and drift off to a comfortable sleep.

The next morning, I awaken to chirping birds. Sitting up, I discover that something about my body does not feel right. My stomach is tight, but differently than when I am hungry for food. Rubbing my belly, I crawl outside where sunlight is trickling down upon the frozen earth. I sit on the ground and look out at the endless snowy fields below me. If only my family was down there, where I could see them, call out to them, run to them. I wonder how can we all look up at the same sky, but be far enough apart that we cannot find each other. I stand up to stretch my limbs, and just as I am about to collect my sack from the cave, I am horrified to I see a small puddle of blood staining the snow where I have just been sitting. I cry out and dip my fingers between my legs. My fingers drip with the thick, red liquid. Crying out again, I fall to my knees and pound the earth with my fists. I am scared to move, scared to track more blood onto the snow. I wonder if I am dying. Yearning for my mother's protection, I think of the beautiful woman from the cave painting. I imagine she is sitting behind me, twisting my hair into braids as I weep into my hands.

This was originally written for the "Searching" collaboration project.