OTHERBORN: THE DIG [WP PROLOGUE EDITION]

FIVE

I wander, keeping eyes sharp to notice any sign of the spectre.

A few larger groups of the family are scattered out in the desert among boulders—but they're far apart, and not where they can be seen. How far away might they be now?

I'm miles from my last pit dug home, the first one I'd built completely myself. And further still from "my climb" where I now stay. My family's family is at a distance up canyon, higher and into the deeper caves where invisible tunnels lead out of sight along walls of the barranca maze.

My "next in clan" should receive some kind of automatic "next best of the luck". Mateo, at least, thinks this should be how it works.

Perhaps I should stay alert and see who the luck visits next? They might be my kin. I don't even know who I'm related to truly. Perhaps their luck would give me a clue?

I shouldn't think this. I feel guilty. Reggie is almost my kin.

We are raised in "unida"—the oneness of all. This is our family, but Reggie's my "own" whose "honor" it is to be teaching me here—that is, if he stays with our people and I don't fail him—a rare Outsider welcomed in trust.

I hear a ticking but it's just a rattler... And nothing is 'blue'. I pull the tire sandals off from my feet and carry them now. I stretch—much better to run.

No one ever tracks who their root-folks have been. Children know parents, but maybe forget, and don't run together enough to stick to this long. Everyone's kin, cousins, family and friends.

The names we use, "cousins", "uncle", "grandfather", and such, are just our show of respect for their wisdom.

"Caruba" is the most common greeting we give. It means "all for one." So it's really not good that I'm out here alone—not good at all.

I'm dependent on Reggie. I wouldn't have folks tracking my whereabouts to 'keep prayers over me' without having Reggie.

With him being from outside, I wonder, does he make spirit offerings for keeping me safe as root-family does?

To the group though, distance is normal throughout the year; everyone's running and climbing, and no one is home in their "stay" during the days.

Children race on all occasions we gather, and women do not live alone in their stays, not after the babies are born, at least once they're strengthened. The women have help sometimes tying newborns onto their fronts for the long running days, or to gather or forage; and wherever they race.

The babies float in a rhythmic grace for most of the early mornings, until later, they feed them—long, and out of high sun. And when they grow up, they'll each have a teacher. The one who is deemed best to call prayers and watch over them, then is assigned.

Most family by now will be out running—ranging, alone. I've only once seen a clan member this far out, and not very close. The desert is vast, and each of us remains inner-guided on paths of our own intuition.

I pause to scan the horizon.

Some younger brothers and clan townfolk snicker at us with our running and solitude much of the year. They live far beyond us, by sixty odd miles, where the closest town fringes curl near their travellers' entrance.

Most villagers like to live "packed close" in groups, and not like we do—seems unpleasant to us for our lifestyle.

Reggie's keeps to his cave-stay at the canyon base edge, especially at nightfall. He's been with these soft tribe folks, and done many things that he still retains "how". He does not approve of their views all the time. At sun-up he's gone to his well hidden "shop", many "shadows" away on the Cordera, where he's deeply concealed in knotty Scots pine.

His workshop, he calls, "Angie". I don't know why, and inside he builds a great many things, and he makes signs, and shows me letters and symbols and odd metal trinkets—things I do not know how to use.

His "mobile" is not within "signal sight" much. And I'm left alone to do what I will, unless I go with him. So I use my own judgment. We don't tell the tribe.

Sometimes, nearer to dark, I will ride, balanced on back of his own ATV with a flat kind of trailer for scavenging stuff with a light beam to find whatever he's needing.

We do this at earlier hours too, but then we always drag bushes so no one can follow. Most mornings the drag marks are gone with the wind and outsiders are unable to spot them.

It's peaceful among the strange veins of life's canyons, whose whispers of secrets still know who we are. It's our kind of world.

No one treks here—too inhospitable for soft folk, much too barren for hiding those scared.

And that's how we're free.

I drift along daydreaming again, when suddenly, I freeze right out in the open.

I hear... "Hey, boy! What have you got there?" I jerk to the still far off call through my focus in thoughts!

"Take no chances!" Grandfather has said, so I'm off and away. I do as I'm told.

I'm up... And I run...!

~~~/

Thank you so much for reading, of course! 🙏🫶♥️🫵

We'd like your opinion...

Arguably, this chapter is more info than dialogue/action... Our bad! It's only skated by the "cut or don't cut" grading with a mere technicality that's provided by Kai's searching and decision to run.

There's nowhere else in the story to dump all this info so... Is it still of interest and worth any read? OR Slowing the story?

Do you think it belongs here?