Endless: An Autobiography of an Immortal

Chapter 9 - Toys

We walked for days. No destination. Just walked. Mostly silently with the odd remark about the food or animals we saw along the way. We passed several tribes and groups. Didn't spend time with any of them, just enough to exchange supplies and be on our way. O'a-sh-ot was not in the market for a new tribe. And honestly neither was I. We just kept to ourselves. When the moon was bright and full a second time, she asked the question. The question I would be asked more times than I'd have an answer to.

"How did you know?"

She's seen me meditate before. But she didn't really understand. There really wasn't a way to explain it with the limited vocabulary at the time.

"I see better. Hear better. Feel better. Can heal better too."

She frowned. She just didn't understand, I had to show her. But there wasn't a way to let her see what I did. Or feel what I felt. So I had to show her another way. The idea came to me while I thought of the first time I needed to meditate.

"Watch."

I wasn't very keen on burning myself, but the thought did help me think of another way. While burns were common they weren't very often fatal and thus just a learning experience. Large cuts, on the other hand, were treated more seriously. If it got infected it could become an issue as there wasn't medicine in those days and even minor cuts could cost one their life. Cuts were a more visual way of showing her how I could meditate to heal fast. Which could start my explanation of what I was doing when I first felt the tremors.

Using my Cub knife, I placed the sharp edge against my arm. O'a-sh-ot was looking at me quizzingly and almost lost her mind when I sliced my arm. I had to keep her at a distance and stop her from trying to wrap the wound and just let it bleed. I told her to sit back down and watch. After much convincing she finally did. I sat down and focused, but this time I made sure I was listening. When I stopped the bleeding I could hear her mumbling to herself. But when the wound started to close I could hear the gasps. I had never seen anyone else be able to heal as fast as I could, but now I had confirmation that she's never seen it either. Before I could completely finish I felt her hands on my arm. She ran her fingers down the cut just as it finished sealing. I opened my eyes to see her own looking at me - not in fear - but curiosity. Out of this demonstration I tried to explain.

"I sit and feel my body. Not outside, but inside. I look hard to find the problem. Help my body heal fast. I feel everything. Felt the ground move. Knew it wasn't good."

As I was explaining it I could see the look in her eyes change as she stopped listening and formed another question. Yet another one I'd be asked in one form or another. She had noticed I looked the same when I first met her many years ago but had never said anything about it. Until now.

"How many winters?" she finally asked when I stopped talking.

"Hartebeest herd." I answered.

No one knew how to count. Especially a relatively large number. So I had to explain several hundred years. A herd of Hartebeests back then were more than a hundred in number. I tried to keep it simple for her to understand so just saying the herd would give her an idea of hundreds. Keep in mind, no one actually cared about ages back then. You were either alive or you weren't. You had grey hair or you didn't. No one kept track of theirs or other's years alive. So the actual question wasn't directly about how old I was. But to not change, to not see the wrinkles time gave you, or the evidence of cuts and bruises, that was weird. That's what dawned on her, I didn't have evidence of my experience I've told her I had. And most kids received some scars when they were young. Was she ever in for a surprise.

How else do you explain to a person who doesn't keep track of ages how old you are? How do you even enlighten a person that one wasn't born when they didn't even understand where babies even came from. No one yet connected that sex and becoming pregnant were related. I did my best to tell her. She did her best to understand me. I think we met halfway but not completely.