THE BICYCLE
No-one really wants to eat mad people, for obvious reasons. But Doctor Umbi suspected that very thorough cooking might be enough to drive out the devils. He felt he needed to be practical. These were hungry times for Umbi's tribe.
He asked the returning hunters why they thought their stranger was mad. Well, they said, he'd been wandering in the forest without any caution or protection. He'd even welcomed them with a friendly greeting as they approached! "What!" exclaimed Umbi, "You're saying he speaks our language?" It seemed he had done so, in a childish, stumbling way. They'd "invited" him back to the village. He'd come willingly! He would DEFINITELY require thorough cooking!
Umbi thought for a moment. "I need to talk to this fellow before we eat him!" he said. Few men in the tribe argued much with Doctor Umbi, so the stranger was duly brought. He told Umbi that he was called "Psychologist". At times, Psychologist's talk was painfully difficult to understand. His use of language was contorted, a little "mad", but he overcame this surprisingly well with signs and so on. Umbi found himself fishing for information from the stranger - even for wisdom? You never know!
Then Psychologist opened his backpack, and pulled out a box of coloured wooden blocks and other amusing things. He seemed to want Doctor Umbi to play games. Umbi humoured him. After a few games, the stranger said that Umbi was very clever, and produced a rather fascinating flat sheet with colours and signs on it. This he called a "High IQ". He wrote on it, and sealed it in a transparent wrapper. He held it out towards Umbi. "Rain on IQ, no, no, no! But rain not fall inside this nice shelter! Shut up, dry! Shut up! Always shut up!" he advised Umbi quietly, tapping the "High IQ".
After they'd taken the stranger away to be cooked thoroughly, Doctor Umbi examined his "High IQ". It looked like very fine artwork. He hid it safely inside his hut. He couldn't deny that it gave him a warm glow of satisfaction. Was he as mad as Psychologist? He realised he hadn't asked the stranger all the right questions. The tribe's hunters, at times like these, would spread out widely to look for game. How had Psychogist got so near the village before he was spotted? He'd said one or two puzzling things: it seemed he'd travelled enormous distances in a few hours. How? Was that important for Umbi to know?
"I'll work that one out tomorrow," thought Umbi, as cooking smells drifted towards him. "It's dinner-time now! I'm starving!"
Dinner that evening was delicious. Just before they started eating, Doctor Umbi managed to pull Psychologist's boots out of the fire. They were charred and smoking, but the pattern on their soles could just be seen.
Umbi didn't want anyone to think he was mad, especially now when mad people were beginning to get eaten, so he didn't plan to go out alone, like that delicious stranger. He persuaded three friends to help him with next morning's outing.
Next day, the ground between the trees was dusty and dry; not ideal for tracking. But eventually one of the team called out. He'd found a pattern not unlike the boot sole! The track was poor, but they followed it for a few minutes. They arived at a large bush. They tried desperately to go on, with no success. Only a few very strange marks. Umbi's knees began to ache. They had started to leave when Umbi had one of his crazy ideas. He went back, wrestled with the bush, and dragged out an alien object. It was actually a common mass-produced two-wheel wobble-rider, but they didn't know that. They just stared at it.
Then they started for home with their new trophy. The alien object moved SO easily sometimes! Umbi had his second crazy idea! He tried to ride on it! Wobbly! Most undignified! But he was among friends. Dignity wasn't his highest priority. His feet found the pedals. Little by little he began to understand what to do. Soon Umbi was covering fair distances at speed. He kept having to stop, putting his feet down on either side, and waiting for his friends to catch up. While he was waiting, he imagined the two-wheel wobbler allowing the tribe to check out vast areas for food and water ... even getting quietly onto the far side of a herd and urging the game towards the hunters! There were so many exciting possibilities ...
Back home, the oldies were unimpressed. One cranky tribesman even hinted that perhaps "old Doctor Umbi should retire"! But the younger hunters were excited! They queued up for lessons. Doctor Umbi hadn't had so much exercise for years! He began to worry about his chest.
One day, when he was teaching wobbler-riding, he suddenly felt really bad. He collapsed and couldn't get up again. He blessed the youngsters, gently told them not to be sad: he was just moving to a better forest. He explained to them what songs he wanted them to sing for him at his cooking. "Look forward to it! I'll be tasty! Enjoy me!" he said.
Then he told them, in a rather mischievous whisper, where to find his "High IQ". He closed his eyes for the last time.
Umbi's memorial was most impressive. The base was a mound of hard-packed earth, with a stout stake on top; the two-wheel wobbler was fastened securely to this stake. To deter unruly teenagers from stealing the wobbler and riding it cheekily all round the area, the base bristled with sharp spikes and thorny branches.
No-one officially knew about Umbi's "High IQ". But unofficial whispers suggested that, if the food shortage didn't ease up soon, the spikes on the memorial would be overcome: the "High IQ" would suddenly appear on the stake. The two-wheel wobbler could then be put to more tummy-filling uses. Umbi would have liked that.
-- P.F.
