Last week in Trapped in Time we witnessed a battle between a TRex and a triceratops. What next? Stay and find out, then go see what the other Briefers are up to! Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
Morning comes again and my hand feels much better, thanks to
the poultice that Charlie applied. Vittorio gathers fresh material for a new
bandage and promises I shall only have to wear it for one more day. I can live
with that.
Charlie peers into the canyon below us, although I am
careful to keep as far as possible from the edge. The memory of crossing the
flimsy bridge, and the fear of the huge battling dinosaurs on the other side,
are still too fresh, and I have no desire to exacerbate my fear of heights. Charlie whistles. “That is a very dead
dinosaur,” he comments. Myron stands beside him, but I notice he doesn’t look
down. From here, he seems a little green. But I have to admit, he is braver
than I am, to stand so close to the precipice. “I don’t think he expected to
end up down there.”
Myron shakes his head. “Nobody expects to die, do they?”
“Pride goeth before a fall,” Vittorio murmurs as they turn
away from the edge.
If it weren’t for its location, so close to such a steep
drop, I think I could get used to his cave. It’s more shelter than we’ve had
since our arrival. But our destiny does not lie here.
Breakfast consists of more fruit, and some more insects,
which I again decline, although Charlie persuades Myron to ingest some of them.
I cannot stomach the thought.
The terrain on this side is rockier, and the trees are
farther apart, so we spend more time beneath the blazing sun than I would care
to spend. My fair skin is taking on a reddish hue that passes into a light
brown. I can feel freckles popping out too, but there is nothing I can do about
it.
We have the penny
farthing with us once more, although Vittorio walks it by his side, his other
arm about me. I am trying to take notice of our surroundings, to keep a mental
map in my head for future reference. If we are to live here—and that seems a
very great likelihood—it would be good to choose the best location where we
shall live.
Vittorio and I. Living together. The thought makes me smile.
“You think of something amusing?” Vittorio asks. His skin
has taken on an even darker olive hue that is so very attractive.
“Nein, nein.” I shake my head. “I am just happy, that’s all.
Thinking about us. Together.”
He leans close to me and I feel his lips brush over the top
of my head. “That makes me very happy too, mi amore.”
Lunch is more fruit with some wild vegetables that we
discover growing along the edges of a small field. Something that resembles
potatoes, and wild scallions. What I could do had we some heat to work with! I
moan about raw food and the lack of meat in our diet. What I would not give for
some wurst! Or a thick veal chop. Somehow I do not think we shall be running
across any calves any time soon.
Vittorio whispers in my ear, arching his eyebrows in a
question. I am apprehensive, but nonetheless, I nod. He turns toward Myron and
Charlie, who sit across from us, while Mary is swinging from the trees above
our heads.
“Myron, perhaps you can use
your wand and make us some fire?”
“Fire?” he repeats uncertainly.
“Si, fire. Just a little one, so Doll can cook a little
food, and then tonight, maybe for a little warmth.” He offers Myron a confident
smile.
“I… I’m not sure.” Myron looks rather doubtful, in fact. He
glances my way, and Vittorio squeezes my hand.
“You can do it,” I offer, trying to sound more sure than I
am, but perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Come.” Vittorio rises and pulls me after him, and we gather
some rocks together, so I shall have something on which to cook, crude and
makeshift though it is. We also father some wood and some greenery to burn.
Charlie is stroking Myron’s cheek, looking into his eyes,
lending his own moral support. Mary is nowhere to be seen. “You can do it, Myron,” he says
encouragingly. Finally Myron nods and grits his teeth. He raises his wand, aims it at the pile we
have assembled, and mutters something I cannot hear. We hold our collective
breaths and wait.
Nothing happens.
Well, it could be worse, I think. He could have turned us
into toads or something.
Myron looks frustrated. He takes a deep breath, one hand
automatically going to his villainous moustaches, twirling it, the other
holding the wand. Then he aims and mutters again.
At first I think nothing has occurred… again. But then
Vittorio nudges me and points. Do I see a tiny bit of smoke? I peer more
closely, as a small blue flame curls and consumes a large leaf, and spreads to
the wood as it envelops it. He’s done
it! Myron did it! And without killing us in the process!
Cheering loudly, we circle Myron, clap our hands upon his
back and congratulate him, all bad things forgotten in our excitement. Charlie grips
one of the moustaches between two fingers. “Can we make this go away?” he asks
hopefully.
Myron blushes, as he nods. “When I can find a razor,” he
promises.
I hold my hand out to Myron. “You did a very good thing.
Thank you very much.” He takes my hand and we look eye to eye with one another
as we shake hands.
If I only had a knife, but I don’t, so I must make do with
what I have. I take the potatoes and roast them in the embers, and then I
season them with what I can find, add a bit of the vegetables that I have also
roasted, and we make a very fine meal indeed. Maybe later, meat?
I like the way that our merry band is getting closer. Since Charlie came alone Myron has been less of a shit and this seems like the beginning of something better for him and them all. A nice sweet, calm, peaceful chapter after all the drama of the last one.
ReplyDelete