Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time #6

Happy Wednesday and welcome to another edition of Wednesday Briefs, brought to you by the flash fiction specialists that also bring you Bigger Briefs! This week, we have a Guest Prompt Diva, MA Church, who gave us:   "You can't be serious!" as well as the alternate prompts of: Use: night light, messy bed, TV remote or "Let the chips fall where they may..." or animalistic sounds, water, bowl full of apples or Mention a birdbath in the story.

This week I continue with Trapped in Time. When last seen, Myron was screaming his head off about something. I know, what else is new? Is anyone betting that even Vittorio will get tired of listening to him? Find out what's up now in Trapped in Time #6. And don't forget to see what the other Briefers have in store for you, their links can be found at the end of my story!

.Trapped in Time #6

 

At first, I cannot be sure if the animalistic sounds I’m hearing are actually coming from Myron—or from the creature that seems to have fastened itself upon him—and I would be hard put to say exactly what sort of creature it is. It has long hairy arms, and shorter, hairy legs, and a very pronounced, very large mouth, but no tail. And  yet it bears a strange sort of resemblance to Myron. Very strange.

“Doll.” Vittorio nudges me, and I glance up at my blond Italian.

“I think this is the proof we have been looking for,” he murmurs.

“Proof?”

“Yes, proof. That Scopes was right to teach Darwinism, and that the creationists are wrong.”

“Ohhhhh.” Now I get it. “So this is a common ancestor of ours?”

“Seems that way, yes?”

Meanwhile, as we’re carrying on our philosophic discussion, Myron screams again, caught in the grip of this strange creature. For lack of a better word, I shall refer to him as a monkey, but I am not zoologist, so I cannot be sure.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to help me?”

“You don’t think he is speaking to us, do you, Vittorio?”  I pretend to be offended at the very idea that he speaks to us thus, as much as his tone that he uses.

“I do not think so, Doll, even for Myron that is simply too rude for words. Now, what were you and I going to do?”

“Find some water and have bath time,” I remind him, pulling him to me, and kissing him. “Shall we let the chips fall where they may?”

“We shall,” he affirms, and we link our arms and choose an arbitrary direction, but we only gain a few feet before his screams rend the air once more, before falling into a softer wail.

“Wait, don’t go,” he whimpers. “You can’t be serious. Please… help me?”

I eye my Vittorio, and he looks at me. I know he was only playing and never had any intention of leaving Myron with the beast for any length of time. I, on the other hand, would gladly have done so. I shrug, and we turn back toward the strange pair.

“Myron, I don’t think he means to harm you,” Vittorio offers. “Look, he is hugging you.”

And indeed, that is just what the ape-like creature is doing, winding his elongated arms about Myron and making more noises that sort of resemble hooting, or grunts, or both. Then he reaches up with those impossibly large lips and plants a big wet one on Myron’s cheek. I can see the spittle even from here. Before I can comment, the creature leaps out of Myron’s arms, and takes his hand, tugging at him.

“What do you think it wants?”

“Why don’t you go with him and find out?” I suggest with more than a modicum of sarcasm. I am very much enjoying this strange development, and I cannot help but feel that God has indeed punished Myron for what he’s done to us. Serves him right, the putz.

I think Myron is about to faint, his skin has turned very pale, his eyes huge, and he has even forgotten to twirl his villainous moustaches.

“Go ahead, we’ll follow,” Vittorio assures him. I told you—he is too sweet, even to Myron. But I would not have him any other way.

The monkey keeps pulling, insistently, so Myron stops digging into the earth and lets himself be dragged along. Vittorio and I bring up the rear, arm in arm as if we are taking a leisurely stroll of the prehistoric kind. No rush, after all. Actually, now that I’ve stopped being completely irate with Myron (although I am still angry with him to some extent), I begin to appreciate our situation a little bit better. True, we are trapped in another time, a long-dead and very ancient time, but we are together, are we not?  For now perhaps we can make the most of what circumstances have brought us. For everything there is a reason, ja? What the purpose of this is, I have yet to ascertain.

The little creature seems very familiar with this jungle, and he picks a path that seems designed to provide us with the least trouble to navigate, therefore he has some sort of reasoning capability, reminding me again of the big discussions that were begun with the Scopes Monkey Trial. Although I do believe in God as the divine Creator, I also see a place for science and do not think they are mutually exclusive, and Vittorio feels the same.

As for Myron, I’m beginning to think this monkey is very much smarter than he is, and is probably possessed of a better personality.

I become aware of the sound of running water.  Could it be?  Oh yes, we emerge onto the bank of a river. Small, but quite delightful. Nothing we cannot easily cross, if we choose. And the banks are not too high, so that we can easily reach the wonderful contents of this more than welcome stream and drink our fill. Soon all four of us are on our knees (or bellies), slaking our thirst with the cold, delicious fluid.

I had not realized how thirsty I was until that moment.  Afterwards, Vittorio suggests we do not stay here too long. I look at him inquisitively.

“This is probably a gathering ground for other animals,” he reminds me, and he is probably right.

So, first things first.

“Myron, can you or can you not take us back home?” I demand, hands on hips, glaring at Myron with all the demonic power I can muster; he’s rather easily cowed, you know.

“No,” he says in a small voice, not meeting our eyes.

I sigh, and turn to Vittorio. “What now?”

“Now we find shelter, and a way to make a fire,” Vittorio declares.

I barely refrain from kicking Myron in the cojones.

 to be continued

Now stop by and visit all the other Wednesday Briefers!

Nephylim    m/m

MA Church    m/m

Tali      m/m

Sara York     m/m

MC Houle      m/m

Michael Mandrake   m/m

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie