Simian 1.
Chapter 1.
The moon’s thin crescent descended slowly through cloud-strewn semi-darkness. Only small glimpses of it could be seen between leaves and branches as it made its slow retreat from the light. Overhead, stars which only minutes before had shown so boldly, now faded from view, yielding once again to the light growing in the east.
Sounds of the night gradually receded as creatures who flourished in darkness began retreating to their hiding places, making way for the growing cacophony of the day-dwellers.
Minutes before the sun broke the horizon; the family began to stir; yawning, stretching, young ones clinging to their mother’s fur, whining softly to be fed. Adults and adolescents grunted greetings to one another, arising from nests constructed low in the trees the evening before.
From his nest at the periphery of the group, the young male watched as the ranking (alpha) male began his daily ritual, moving slowly among the family members, sniffing for signs of estrus among the females and casting warning glances at potential rivals. Then after assuring himself all was well, the alpha slowly and deliberately descended to the ground, casting glances this way and that, alert for signs of danger. The rest of the group then followed cautiously, spreading out, foraging for food, always keeping sight of one another.
Being one of the lower-ranking males, the young male also descended, taking his place in the ‘pecking order.’ The infants, now full of mother’s milk and the exuberance of youth, scampered about in the center of the group, playing, quarrelling, exploring the fascinating world into which they had so recently arrived. Thus began another seemingly typical day in the life of this simian family.
The family had arrived in this place several days earlier, attracted by the scent of ripening fruit. Since food was in abundance here, the family would remain in this location for several more days.
All had partaken, as was their wont. After everyone had eaten their fill, an air of contentment permeated the group. The more senior members drowsed contentedly in the shade, now and then swatting at insects that disrupted their rest. Mothers kept watch over their exuberant youngsters. Adolescent males wrestled about, tested themselves in mock combat.
Today, the young male avoided these confrontations, preferring to watch, rather than participate. As he sat watching, his primitive mind recalled the events of the previous day.
Yesterday the alpha had been challenged by another male, not one of the family. The challenger had made his presence known early in the day but hadn’t immediately acted. Skirting the perimeter, he thrashed about screaming and throwing things, attempting intimidation while building his courage. The alpha had responded in kind but had stood his ground, forcing the challenger to commit. Finally the challenger, having reached the point at which he must either commit or retreat, moved forward cautiously, crossing the invisible boundary, the point of no return.
The ensuing battle was fast, furious, and violent. Both males charged each other and slammed together, hitting, biting and screaming.
All the others scrambled to give them way. In the confusion, one of the infants lost its grip on its mother, fell into the fray and was crushed. No one dared to attempt rescue, lest he too become a victim of the wild violence.
After only a few short minutes the battle was over. The challenger was soundly beaten. He retreated wounded into the tangled darkness of the jungle floor, and was not seen again.
Not seriously wounded, Alpha screamed his victory for all to hear. Only then did the others dare to venture closer. One by one, each family member approached the triumphant alpha. With eyes averted and heads lowered, each offered subservience, once again demonstrating their recognition of him as their leader.
As calm began to return within the group, the stricken infant’s mother went to her broken baby and picked it up. The infant didn’t respond. The mother didn’t seem to understand. She held her baby to her breast and seemed confused when it didn’t try to suckle. Throughout the remainder of the day she carried her baby. Several times she tried to elicit a response from the limp body, but to no avail. Others in the family seemed to recognize her plight, but none approached. All kept their distance, sensing her distress.
As daylight began to fade, the family returned once again to the safety of the trees. Each adult selected a fork in the branches and began pulling smaller leaf-laden branches together into a comfortable nest. Mothers gathered their young close. Infants clung to their mothers’ fur, growing drowsy from the day’s exertions and the warmth of mother’s milk. Adolescents built nests around the periphery, forming a defensive circle.
The stricken mother carried the small lifeless form up into the trees where she built a nest to accommodate them both. She held her baby close as darkness descended. Sometime during the long night she discarded it, letting it fall the short distance to the ground. In the morning the body was nowhere to be found.
The day continued uneventful. The young male’s thoughts soon returned to the familiar routine he and all the others in the family adhered to; the continuous search for nourishment. They wandered about, attracted by the bright colors and alluring scent of the jungle’s bounty. Toward evening, their bellies filled, the family began their lumbering assent back into the safety of the trees. They were the largest of the simian species. Adult males weighed just over one hundred pounds, females slightly less. Because they were so large, it was difficult for them to climb high into the trees, where the more supple leaf-covered branches were. Their smaller cousins, much more agile, occupied the upper branches.
After completing his nest, the young male lay down and turned onto his back, adjusting his position to avoid a sharp protruding limb. Calmly he watched as the fading light crept slowly into the west. Briefly his thoughts returned to the excitement of the previous day.
When the confrontation between the alpha and the challenger began, the young male had screamed and scurried about just as the others had done. He had watched the battle, filled with apprehension, just as he and the others had done so many times before. And when the battle ended, he and the family settled back into their usual routine. The alpha had strutted among them, once again asserting his dominance and, in so doing, helped to bring calm and stability back to the family.
As daylight slowly faded into darkness, the family settled once again in their newly constructed nests. A breeze gently stirred the branches as the heat from the jungle floor ascended into the cooling twilight. Mothers drew their young ones closer, drowsing quietly in the gathering darkness. The infants were the first to fall asleep, but the others weren’t far behind.
The young male lay there as he had done so many times before, snuggled comfortably in his nest. Absently he drew a leafy frond across his body, pulling it closer, luxuriating in its comfort and imagined security. The tenseness of his body slowly diminished. His eyelids became heavy. A few times they opened, stared blankly into the darkness, then once again slowly closed. His breathing became more rhythmic. Sleep slowly overcame him.
Suddenly He sat bolt upright in his bed! He was immediately fully awake, his eyes wide open, all his senses alert! He froze in place, rigid with fear, afraid that his sudden movement had drawn attention. His breath caught in his throat.
What had happened? Was it a sound or smell that had alerted him? His eyes darted back and forth looking for any sign of something out of the ordinary. Nothing! None of the other family members had responded. A few stirred quietly, then quickly settled. They all lay there calmly sleeping. Were they not aware? Did they not sense what was happening? Why had they not responded? Should he raise the alarm?
What was happening? This feeling was completely different, overpowering, totally foreign and much more intense than anything he had ever experienced. His mind reeled. He was aware of. . . . He was AWARE!!!
Confusion and panic overwhelmed him. Still he dared not move. Never before had he experienced such profound self-awareness. Though his primitive mind was as yet unable to compr
ehend what had happened, he knew, on some level beyond instinct, beyond even racial memory, that something within him had changed, that he was now somehow different. The thought of it sent his primitive imagination reeling.
Struggling to overcome his growing fear, he forced himself to quietly lay back down, to remain still and silent so as not to alarm the others. For a long time he lay there unmoving, stricken with an incomprehensible sense of foreboding. He forced his eyes closed and lay there in the darkness, struggling to keep from fleeing in wild panic into the night.
He dared not relax. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Muscles tensed, breathing labored, his eyes tightly closed, he lay there in the darkness . . . waiting, expecting at any moment for something terrible to come crashing out of the darkness. His mind raced as fear tightened it’s grip on him. He was keenly aware of any sound or smell that might be out of the ordinary.
But nothing happened. His family continued sleeping peacefully. An occasional stirring or a grunt would catch his attention, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary happened. The sounds of the night remained as they had always been. After some time, he didn’t know how long, the panic began to subside as emotional fatigue overcame him. He finally fell into a fitful sleep.
Several times that night he awakened, disoriented and afraid. But, as the quiet familiarity of his surroundings and the warmth of his bed caressed him, he drifted back into slumber.
When morning came he was roused by the usual sounds and movements of the others. Still half asleep, eyes still closed, he stretched and yawned luxuriantly.
Then suddenly all grogginess vanished. The memory of the night slammed back into his consciousness. The awareness startled him and his whole body suddenly tensed. His eyes few open to an intense blinding light. Instinctively he turned away, shielding himself from what he expected would be some horrible assault. Nothing came. He had been facing the morning sun when he opened his eyes.
His sudden reaction drew the attention of a few close by individuals, but they quickly lost interest when nothing else happened. Each in turn made his way down to the jungle floor.
Relieved though he was that he had not drawn attention to himself, he was still afraid to move. His fears of the night were equalled by his fear of how his family would react should he exhibit any unusual behavior. He was, after all, a low-ranking male. He had been conditioned from infancy to avoid conflict.
What ever it was that happened to him last night, there was no evidence of it in the daylight. Now, fearing that by remaining in his nest he would draw attention, he forced himself to move. Cautiously, deliberately, he descended from his place in the trees, glancing this way and that, searching for anything out of the ordinary.
At first he was fearful and confused. But as the morning wore on with nothing out of the ordinary happening, he forced himself into his usual routine. However, his new sense of awareness remained, and strengthened. The conflict within him was hard to suppress. One part of him wanted to scream in panic and alarm; but another part reasoned that to do so would only draw unwanted attention.