Rising Star
Rising Star
By David Clémenceau
In a time of stories, long ago, a shining stone sprung from the earth and raced across the specked canvas of the night sky to join his forebears. The tribe beheld the stone’s journey and they wondered what it could mean to them. After much debate, the tribe decided to seek out the stone’s point of origin. A group searched the plains and deserts far and wide for a long time until they found it. Where the stone had left the earth, there was a cave.
This story Umara’s mother had told her, as had her mother’s mother before that, and her mother’s mother’s mother before – a long time before homo sapiens dominated the earth.
Umara blinked as the warm, gritty wind blew gusts of dust into her eyes. Countless grains of sand invaded the dark fur which covered most of her unclad body. With a clear sky, one could see all the way to the mountains on either side of the vale and, from a tall tree, the long water twinkling under the great disc. But today, the wind was carrying sand and dust and leaves.
The ground was soft and warm. Small flowers and low bushes grew all about her. A branch lay in the grass before her feet. It appeared to be a good branch of a tall and old tree. But the tree was lifeless and dry. No leaves or fruit had it brought forth in many cycles. It must have given way under Koe. And while Umara contemplated the unmoving shape on the ground, her chest filled with an emptiness she hadn’t known before.
Some tribe members gathered around to see what was keeping her. Ata and Ome crouched beside their age-like, held his hand, and stroked his head. But he didn’t rise. Okoma’s and Umara’s eyes met across the circle that had formed and they knew, they shared the same emptiness. More of the tribe arrived and looked at each other with sorrowful eyes and they all shared the same unspoken emptiness.
Aki, tall and robust, lifted the youngling carefully onto his strong fur-covered shoulder. All but he began to gather kindling wood. Everyone knew they needed kindling for the cave. Then, the procession moved in silence towards their destination.
Always a group remained outside to watch and aid if needed. Ata built the first fire inside, where the great disc’s warmth began to fail, and looked after it. At the end of a soft downward slope, Ome built a second fire near where the rock came down very low. One had to crouch and watch one’s head in order to reach the next chamber. The younglings remained close to the entrance, for the deep inside could be dangerous. Sometimes, the elders came out with scratches and bruises and wounds from crawling and climbing through the belly of the earth.
In the second chamber, Okoma made another fire with the kindling he had brought and a flame from the first hall. He stayed with it and looked after the others while they labored up a ridge that led towards a steep downward passage, the most difficult part. The passage was narrow and spiked with outcrops which cut and hurt. There was barely enough space for one of the tribes to climb down one at a time. Maku went first and Utara followed down with great caution, carrying a flame to light the way and make the last fire in the farthest chamber. No sooner could one of the two come to help Umara and Aki lower Koe’s body through the chute.
Only their breath and the crackle of the fire were with them. No sound from outside, no wind, no creature came in here. Only the tribe. Shadows crawled across the walls. A thin stream of perspiration ran down Ati’s temples. Umara’s own chest was thumping from the exertion. Her long fingers nudged the back of his hand very softly. They wouldn’t rest but began to dig the soft earth with their hands, while Utara tended the fire and Maku, crouching nearby, cradled the youngling in her arms.
They placed Koe in the oblong shallow depression in the ground. Umara deposited a biface stone knife beside her son and they began to cover the body with earth. Before she left the chamber, she took another stone and etched two intersecting diagonal lines into the rock wall, where similar markings had been left before.
Umara squinted at the great disc now low above the mountains. The vale was peaceful and the wind had stopped. The tribe had been waiting. Her eyes met theirs and they told her with unspoken words she was not alone. Gentle hands on her shoulders and long arms said Koe was with his forebears now. No animals could take him. He was safe. He was loved. Umara felt the emptiness inside her and it was a little less than before and the edges of her mouth rose very slightly.
As the tribe made to return to their dwelling, she decided to stay for a while and sat on the ground. Their faces told her not to tarry too long, for night was returning soon. She nodded and raised her hand knowingly, and tears issued from her eyes.
