**
It was getting late in the day. The rays of the sun were shining at a greater angle. They were strong and piercing through the trees, solid like laser beams as they threw a yellow/ orange hue to the tree trunks. We were all getting tired again, slowing down, just starting to get weary when the sound of the river grew stronger and Andy was the first one to see the speckles of blue water through the trees.
“There it is,” he announced.
Andy and Martina ran in front of me, their backpacks dancing, the guns and shovels clanging together. Doug trailed behind, distracted. I could hear Andy as he made it to the clearing. I could see him stripping his clothes as he cried out primitive cheers of jubilation. Martina looked as if she was hesitating, but personal hygiene won out over any female discretion, as she stripped to her t-shirt and also went in.
They were still in front of me, but the sound of them splashing in the water was enough to begin the overwhelming feelings of relief that washed over me. I too, ran into the water as soon as I arrived. It was cold, very cold, but it was refreshing. The embankment was not a smooth or simple entry. The riverbed was very erratic, rocky; and some rocks were near the surface, busting out in beautiful whitecaps, while other areas were deep and seemingly bottomless. The river’s current was strong, but not enough to wash us away, just enough to massage.
Doug arrived slowly, several minutes later, and started to remove his clothing methodically, as if in some elaborate baptismal ceremony—no expression on his face. He knelt, muttering to himself; splashing water, first on his face, and then over his entire body. Then he stood in front of us, completely naked, his arms stretched out like Jesus on the cross, dripping cold water, his skin turning blue. He looked briefly up to the heavens and did a slow, deliberate dive into one of the deep areas.
I was the first one to spot the boat. It was up river, on the same side that we had come from, pulled up on the shore. It was not any state-of-the-art piece of technology. It was something out of the distant past, out of times before cities, when the world was sparsely populated long before the nuclear war. I looked at it, almost expecting it to disappear as a mirage, a mysterious remnant of a ghostly past. When I was sure it was really there, I cried out, announcing my discovery to the rest of the team. We made it out of the water, and the chill was hitting me. I quickly put on my dry clothes, wondering if Earth was always this cold.
The boat was long and thin; it appeared to be made of wood. This was not something we were familiar with on the space station. Wood was for the rich and extravagant. From my point of view, to see this rickety craft made out of wood was a paradox. There was an engine on the back end of it. It was the only piece of modern civilization attached to this craft. I’m sure in its heyday this engine would have been slick, polished steel; but now it was tarnished and dirty. We were barely capable of distinguishing the control buttons on top of it. Beside the engine, in the boat, was a small container strapped tightly. Cords were wrapped around it several times, like it contained the most precious substance on Earth. Apart from that, there were three hard wooden seats divided up the sparse interior of the boat.
“So this is 21st century technology,” Martina said.
“I don’t think this would be considered modern, even several centuries before that,” Andy said.
Doug was still in the water. I could see him in the same spot where we had gone in, swimming in circles, and spitting water deliberately out his mouth like a fountain.
“Hey Doug,” I called, “come on down here.”
He looked at me and smiled a soft, innocent smile. I don’t know why, but that smile disturbed me. It seemed kind of out of place. Eventually, he made his way down towards us. He stayed in the water, wading his way upstream towards us, dragging his hands and watching the water cascade around them like a child.
“Hey, look at this,” Andy called.
In the woods just up from the boat was a new surprise. I could see a slightly rusty piece of metal jutting out from the woods. It was clear it was not part of the natural element. As we got close, I could see what it was. It was some sort of archaic heavy artillery. It had a long barrel for a huge calibre projectile, something that would be unheard of with modern technology. It was big and bulky by today’s standards, but would still be portable enough to carry through the woods—not without some sweat and tears though.
“Hey, maybe this is what took us down,” Andy said.
“Maybe,” I answered, “but who knows.”
Martina arrived beside us. “Do you think those kids that Doug shot were the ones who shot us down?”
“That’s what you get,” Andy said.
“I don’t know,” I said, “it doesn’t look like there is anyone else out here.” I waved my arms towards the vast expanse of wilderness.
Doug was just wandering up near us. He was still in the water, naked and blue from the cold, but did not appear to be interested in us, or in the artillery we just found. He was circling the boat, rubbing his hands on it. He was very curious about the boat.
“Hey, look over here,” Andy tried calling Doug over to us, but then waved an arm in frustration when he did not respond.
The three of us stood over the artillery for a while, spouting theories as to whom it was who shot us down, yet it was all conjecture. It was getting late in the day, and I was weary. Doug finally put his clothes back on after much prodding from Martina. She was looking at him very seriously. You could tell she was worried. We decided to spend the night just in the woods, not too far from the boat. We did not dare sleep right out on the river, where we could easily be spotted by any other boats going by—or soldiers coming for this one. We had to go on. We had to try and see where this led us.
We ate and each of us tried to find the closest thing to a smooth patch in this God-forsaken forest. The cold was chilling my bones and I was starting to shake continuously. The dark fell slowly again, the shadows grew longer, but my eyelids would not wait for darkness to completely envelop.
Doug’s blood-curdling scream woke me abruptly. I was completely asleep, the deep sleep of the exhausted. His scream was long and loud, echoing through the wilderness, pure terror from the pit of his gut, waking everyone. I turned and saw him in the gloom of the night, rising with the power of his scream. It sounded like he was crying the word “no”, but it was so distorted and pained you could not really make it out clearly. It was not so much a scream as a loud moan, a reverberating sound unwilling to accept the facts of recent history. Martina got up and grabbed his arm a few seconds later.
“Are you okay Doug? Are you okay?” she said.
“Leave me alone,” he demanded, heading towards the river.
“Are you okay Doug?” she implored, in motherly tones, but Doug continued to ignore her. He walked down by the river again, perching on a rock over the river, staring at it, mesmerized. I caught up with Martina and grabbed her by the arm.
“Leave him alone, he just needs some time to himself.”
“I guess so,” she relented. Yet worry was etched on her face.
I tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use.
At first I was confused by the first tapping of rain on the leaves above, thinking there was a sudden rush of tiny animal activity, but as it gained force, I realized we were about to enjoy our first Earth rainstorm. We were more or less sheltered under the trees, but you still had big cold drops slapping you in the face every minute or so. I kept looking over at Doug too. He was still perched over the river, unflinching in the exposed area, getting soaked from the rain.
The dawn would soon be arriving.
Here by the river you could not hear the increasing sounds of the morning; it was all drowned out by the constant din of the river as it flowed by. There was no sun peaking up over the mountains, the skies were cloudy and grey. The change from night to day was subtle, from black to grey, and not nearly as beautiful. Andy and Martina were still trying to sleep, but mostly tossing around and murmurin
g curses under their breath.
I walked over to Doug to try and talk, to try and reach out—and pull him back. It certainly wasn't safe. He sat there staring at the flow.
“Look at the flow right here, isn’t it amazing,” said Doug without looking at me. “You see the curve of the water here, like a beautiful sculpture by Mother Nature. I remember back on the space station staring at Earth whenever I could, and it was the water, the water that was always amazing, intriguing. You see those gorgeous shades of blue covering the whole globe and this flow; this flow is part of that. Water condenses, falls in rain, melts in snow, flows down the rivers, into the lakes, into the oceans, evaporates in heat, flows up in clouds, and continues in a beautiful cycle. All these rivers and oceans and lakes appear like separate entities, but they’re not. They’re all part of the water that flows in this beautiful cycle. This water right here that is flowing threw my fingers. It is gone now, down the river. It may end up in a lake, an ocean, evaporate and come right back to this very spot or end up on a completely different end of the planet. But it is still all part of the same One, the same Whole, no matter what form it takes. Do you understand?”
“Umm… yeah, sure,” I answered.
“Look, this flow right here, this shape in the water. It appears to take on a form, but every second water is rushing through, countless tons of water is rushing by this exact spot, yet it appears to be stationary, to have a stable form, yet the actual water that creates that form is changing every second. Do you understand now?”
“What are you trying to tell me Doug?”
“I’m trying to tell you that the individual does not matter, we are all part of the same Whole. This water is a metaphor for life. No, wait, not just a metaphor: it is part of life, a living example of divine knowledge, laying here, waiting stoically for whomever wants to discover it.” He looked up at me, excited, happy.
“You’re talking crazy Doug.”
“No, I’m not!” he yelled at me.
“Calm down Doug.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“Okay, okay Doug.”
I tried to grab his arm, but he ripped his arm away from me and stood up to me. “Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m the one who’s thinking rationally.”
“Don’t 'okay' me! I’m thinking rationally, thinking clearly, probably for the first time in my life!”
He walked down the river towards the boat. I left him alone. Andy and Martina were watching from a distance, waking from their disturbed slumber. There was nothing to be done for now.
We packed up soon after that, in the rain, the pouring relentless rain. It was a dark day. The drops filled the sky. All the beautiful mountains and even trees just beyond the riverside disappeared behind a sheet of deep grey. The trees rustled as loudly as the river this morning. We loaded up the boat with our backpacks and gathered around the engine. Andy removed a cap and smelt inside, it was an old gasoline powered engine. The container strapped so carefully to the interior of the boat was most probably gasoline for the engine. Andy pressed the power button and the engine strained to start. With a little cajoling it roared into life, chugging smoothly after a few seconds, emitting smelly clouds in the air. I was standing too close and it made me cough.
We started down the river, heading by instinct. What we were looking for we were not sure. The rain was unrelenting and we had to empty the boat continuously; cupping our hands and throwing the cold water back into the river. Martina was steering the boat and Andy and I were sitting in front with our guns at the ready. Doug lay in the middle of the boat, soaked and apparently oblivious; muttering to himself.
“Crappy weather, eh Doug?” He looked at me and smiled. It was not a good look. He still had that glazed look in his eye that worried me. I tried again. “What are thinking Doug?”
“I was thinking about the soldier’s burden.”
“What do you mean?”
”We are sent to war. We are trained not to think, to follow orders. Initially, you would think that it would clear your mind, free you from responsibility, but it is not that simple. Everything is mapped out for us. We are pawns to be manipulated in the manner the powers that be require us to be manipulated—puppets on strings. Yet, we follow orders, we do what we’re told, unquestioningly, and then—”
“And then what?”
“And then we have to live with our actions, even though our actions are beyond our control. We are trained to act like robots, free from human emotion, but that's impossible. We are human, no matter what training we receive and we have to live with our actions, we have to. That is the soldier’s burden.”
He was playing with a picture in his hands.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, startled, putting the picture in his pocket.
The boat was cutting efficiently through the water, through the flow. It was hard to avoid the rocks, which jutted out from time-to-time. It was not the most comfortable way to travel. Martina had to continuously dodge the rocks. We kept looking carefully up ahead, for any signs of life—good or bad. It was hard straining in the grey of the day, but the rain seemed to be abating. The grey of the clouds lightened a little bit at a time. I could see a little farther downstream. The river was a little wider and easier to travel, but the clouds were low lying. It was fog and it severely affected our visibility.
“This is ridiculous,” Martina blurted. “We’re open targets out here. We need to stop and wait for this weather to change.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Andy added.
“Okay, okay, let’s stop,” I said.
“We can’t see two feet in front of our faces,” Martina continued. “What’s the use in having a gun if you can’t see anything beyond the end of the barrel?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Andy repeated.
“Shut up!” Martina yelled as she veered the boat towards the shore. I don’t know if it was just luck, or she saw it, but there was a convenient beach for us to ride up on. It made for a softer landing than smashing into the rocks that took up most of the riverside. The rain was still coming down fairly hard and we were all soaked. Martina ran the boat into the sand with some speed, so nearly the entire boat was out of the water by the time we climbed out.
“Nobody tells me to shut up, even a woman without--”
“Get over yourself,” Martina warned.
“Guys, let’s try and—“ I started before Andy cut me off.
“You, daddy’s little boy, you don’t tell me what to do any more. It’s time for some real leadership around here.”
Martina laughed loud.
“Now that’s a laugh. You, you’re going to show leadership. Try controlling your emotions for a second.”
“Don’t tell me--” Andy started, and they were on the verge of getting physical.
“Look,” I implored, “This day is hard enough without this! Freaking out won’t get us anywhere. We need to talk it over like a group, come to a decision as a group, what we do. Do we continue exploring, for the mission’s sake? Do we go back to Covert and wait around? Whatever—as a group—we decide!”
Martina backed up with her hands to her head and sighed, “He’s right, he’s right. Freaking out won’t solve anything.”
“Okay—agreed?” I said, looking around at the others. Andy and Martina nodded. Doug was still off by the riverbank, still in his own little world. “Okay, we’re agreed. But we’re all hungry too. Let’s eat and relax a little, rest a little—we’re all worked up. We’ll talk after eating.”
The three of us sat and started to eat. We sucked back our energy packs, quickly, ferociously even. Andy got up and started pacing, Martina glaring at him as he walked away.
All the while, Doug was on the riverbank. Much like before, he trailed a hand in the water like a child. The other hand held his digipad.
“You need some food Doug, eat.”
I held out an energy pack for
him to eat. He turned away from it and looked down at his digipad. He began to recite what he had written—softly, methodically:
I’ve watched you flow
I’ve watched you ride
So filled with awe and envy
Over moss-laden rocks
And heaping boulders
Through mountains and through valleys
Arched on each side
Stand saluting trees
That enhances your beauty and your power
That low sweet rumble
That marks your presence
Extols your perfect passionate work
But in my dreams
I do more than watch
And wonder about your purpose
I ride with you
I ebb and glide
Around gentle curves and down rapids
Forget the day
I trust in you
I feel no pain or fear inside
Because I am One with you
No more human form
And it is the only time I feel real peace
To be One with you
Is to be One with Creation
And I know you will lead me to—the Truth.
He read so passionately, with such conviction, but how could I listen to this right now? I tried to respond, but there were no words.
“I’ll read to the others,” he got up and walked over to Andy and Martina. He began to read again. Andy’s face grew redder with each word. Only a few phrases into it, Andy exploded:
“What the hell are you bothering us about? You’re writing poetry—poetry!?”
“Leave him alone,” Martina began to interject.
There was noise from the woods behind us--something was approaching.
“What's that?” Andy said.
"Some sorta--" Martina said as she looked at this furry little creature with a big nose and ears amble out straight towards us.
"It's not afraid of us," I said.
"Watch out," Andy said, "it could be dangerous!"
"Ya big chicken," I said, "It looks like a baby."
Martina bent over and the cute little fat furry animal let out a tiny groan as its paws grabbed for Martina’s hand. In its uncoordinated exuberance, it lost equilibrium and rolled over backwards. Everyone laughed loudly.
“It’s okay little guy,” Martina said, reaching out to help the little creature back on its feet.
Just then, a tumultuous roar swelled from the woods in back of us. The violent thrashing of branches moving aside came before we saw it. Sensing the danger that was upon us, I remember grabbing Doug by his shirt and yelling to the others, “In the boat!”
There was no delay in the group’s reaction time. This thing, this huge grey beast coming out of the woods fit right into the ambiance of the occasion. I remember actually seeing it for the first time as I threw Doug into the boat and looked back. It was coming out of the woods, all grey fur and a giant head with tremendous teeth; some Earth beast that could easily rip all of us to shreds.
Andy turned and aimed his gun at it as soon as we entered the boat. Martina started the engine. She gave it full throttle and Andy staggered, his shot skimming uselessly off into the woods. The huge beast lunged at us as we were leaving the beach, creating a tumultuous wake in the river; which threw us farther from the animal. It gave us the head start we needed, and the beast roared at us as we went off down the river as fast as the engine would carry us.
“What the hell was that? What the hell was that?” Andy said.
None of us knew what it was, or even if we did, we most certainly were incapable of answering. Andy sputtered, wanting to say more, but garbled nonsense came out his mouth. Doug started to laugh, first lightly, then harder. I couldn’t help myself; I laughed too, Martina also. We laughed so hard; tears were running down our faces as we barrelled down the river.
“That’s not funny,” Andy implored. “That’s not funny.” He didn’t laugh, but he was too tired to yell any more. Even Andy had to calm down once in a while. “That’s not funny,” he kept muttering, barely audible underneath the noise of the engine and our laughter.