The Boy Next Door

Chapter Seven

The screams for help, the shakes, the booms of bombs, the hollers for a god. All are back ground noises as I beat my mother. She wanted to start a war between us, now I'm finishing it. She lay on the ground taking my hits. My scrawny arms coming down anywhere they choose to land. I scream as best I can with no fucking tongue. I killed her many minutes ago with a blow to the head that caved it in. I'd used a rock and many sticks that I threw at her as she ran for safety from the war she spread. She was the one who started it, she was the one to hurt others, she was the one who showed no love to me. I ended it all, all she done, with a blow to the head with a rock. She wouldn't get away. She can't know happiness, even in death. Not if I can help it.

Again with the shaking!! I wake up to the boy again. "You were screaming and punching. I was worried. Are you okay?" Always with the questions. I was having the best dream ever! Thanks for ruining it.

I nod and lay back down. Why do I think like this? I should love Mother, appreciate that she was kind enough to bring me into the world. That's where the kindness stops, I have nothing else to appreciate.

...

The day is hot and wet. I can feel the water in the air and, if I look closely, see it. I hate when it rains. I love the rain, not the water left over. I'm running. Running from the camp, from the dreams. I fell asleep during mid-day meal and I had a horrible dream. Mother was alive. I ran, thinking she was there. The boy cried and yelled for me to come back, I didn't even slow down. I keep running. Soon I stop at big tree. I breathe heavily and look around. The land is full of trees and bushes. I listen for water.

Snap. I look around. I see a figure in a tree. It looks human. I take a step closer, it screeches. I keep going toward it, unfazed. I get to it and see it's not in a tree, well it is, but not a big one. Its small and looks human. It has black fur all on it except for it's face. I think I remember it being called a monkey. It looks small and fragile, like a baby. Its leg and arm is bleeding. Where is its mother? I look around and see no other creature. Carefully I pick it up. I look at its private, a girl. I want to comfort her, but I don't have a goddamn tongue. I slowly, soothingly, caress her head. She stops crying and grabs my neck to hold on better. I take her to the water I heard and clean her up. I take off my bandages and look at my wounds, they look healthy enough. I wrap them around her arm and leg. Poor baby. She seems okay with me helping her so I put her on my back like a gorilla and get down on all fours. I'm glad I read about jungle life so I know how to act like a gorilla.

I walk like a gorilla all the way to camp. She clings to my bare back, sleeping. I listen to her soft breathing while I walk. I don't understand how my knuckles don't hurt, I guess I'm meant to walk like this. When I get back to camp the boy is cooking dinner. He sees me coming and gets up. He starts to talk, but stops when he sees my little girl.

"What's that? A monkey?" I nod, thankful he's whispering. "Where did ya get it? Why do ya have it?" I just put her down on my hay and cover her up, she doesn't stir. I walk over to the fire and sit, motioning for him to do the same.

"Is it hurt?" I nod. "How long'll ya keep it?" I move my hands apart as far as they'll go. "A long time?" I nod again. "Well, what is it?" What does he mea- oh okay, gender. Good thing I know the sign for girl. I draw it in the dirt. "A girl, huh? Whater ya gonna feed 'er? Huh?" I didn't think of that. She can't hunt yet.

I think I remember the book saying fruits, leaves, stems, bamboo whatever that is, termites, and ants. So lots of options. When she wakes I'll try different options and see what she likes. I don't answer his question, I just walk back to her and lay under the blanket holding her close. She still sleeps on. I need a name for her. Hmm, brown eyes, fluffy, black, quiet, careful, attentive. How about Rori? No, Marian. No, Lola. No, Jamie. Fine Jamie it is, I'm tired of names. I slowly drift off to sleep.