Mrc and Esc: Spear, Sling, Club
I was being *terribly and cruelly* harassed earlier in the week by Nobody In Particular, about a certain work of fiction that's been sitting at 98% done for, um, a while now. And so this little fiction is for Nobody In Particular, who should NOT talk about putting off major projects. (Naturally, I am also hoping for art.) Yes, this is what I did with my vacation weekend: I sat on a couch and wrote caveman ... well, you'll see.
Also, 98% becomes 100% TOMORROW. No, really, TOMORROW.
Mrc and Esc: Spear, Sling, Club
Esc stands in the breeze and sniffs the wind. It smells fresh and clean.
The air is warm, and the days start to grow long once more. It is spring! Esc is glad. He likes it when the days are short and cold, and he can spend his time in the cave with Mrc. The cave is dark and snug. They sleep and eat and rut, then rut and sleep and rut and eat and sleep some more. It is nice, very nice. But spring means more good food, fresh meat and green plants, bright days and warm, dry nights. Now they can lie on the grass and look up at the stars and give them names, and they will not be snowed on. Now they can go and swim in the clear, cold stream, and Esc can try to catch a fish with his hands while Mrc flops on his back to see how big a splash he can make.
Best of all, now they can hunt! Esc goes back to the cave. Mrc squats by the hot coals and chews on a piece of dried cow. Cat purrs at his feet and gnaws on her own piece of cow. Purr purr.
“Mrc, it is Spring! Where are the spears you made?”
But Mrc turns his back on Esc and pets Cat. “I did not … not here. They will be here. Soon.”
Esc frowns. “We will hunt ducks. Where are the slings?”
“Not here.”
“Clubs?”
Mrc pokes at the coals with a stick, and they glow bright. He tries to look like he does not hear Esc. Esc frowns more. He does not like this, not at all.
“Did you make spears and slings and clubs, Mrc?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“They are … not here.”
Esc puts his hands on his hips. “You did not make them, Mrc!”
“Yes I did! I will!” Mrc throws his stick on the ground and stands up. He is mad. “I will make them soon. When spring starts.”
Esc kicks at the dirt; he is mad too. “It is not spring soon. It is spring now! You said 'Esc, I will make all the slings for you, for spring.' But you did not do it. And now it is spring and how will we hunt?”
“I tried to make them for you, but I did not have time. I had lots of things to do.” He bends down to feed Cat scraps and skritch her head, and he does not look at Esc. Esc stomps up next to Mrc. Cat flicks her tail at him. They are her scraps, not his.
“It was dark and cold, Mrc. Each day! No cow or duck or mammoth to hunt. No plants to find. No fish to catch. No things to do.”
“Lots of things!” Mrc glares down at Esc; Esc is small and Mrc is big, but Esc is not scared. Mrc is not mean to things that are small and soft. “I had to eat. And sleep. And rut. Those things take time.”
Esc nods. “We did eat and sleep and rut. That is true. But you did not make one spear? One sling? One club?” His voice falls; he is so sad. Now he will not hunt for days and days.
Mrc hangs his head. He sees that Esc is sad. “I planned to make you a good club, very good. Strong and sharp. You could kill a big mammoth! But each time I tried, I thought 'I will not do it now. Now I want to sleep. Now I want to rut. I will make it soon.' And then it was spring! And so I did not make you the club.”
“I cleaned furs. I ground bones. I cooked food. All you did was eat food, and sleep on furs, and rut with me. You are bad!”
“I am not bad, Esc! I will make the spears and clubs. We will hunt soon.”
Esc does not mean to shout, but his voice gets loud. “I want to hunt now. You are bad, and all you want to do is rut, and I do not want to go hunt with you!”
“Make your own club!” Mrc shouts back. He picks up Cat and grabs her hard. She goes hiss raow and squirms, tries to claw the air. “Find your own cow! I do not have time.” He turns and stomps out of the cave.
***************************************************************************************************
That night, Esc can not sleep. He lays on his back and stares at the top of the cave. It is dark and warm next to the fire, but Mrc is not there to sleep all curled up with him. He wants to eat, but but Mrc is not there to say the cow tastes good. He wants to rut, but Mrc is not there to rut with him.
He still wants to rut, so he starts to rut with his hand. Rut rut rut. Sigh. Rut rut rut rut. Rut rut rut …
Sigh.
Esc is bored. It is no fun to try and rut with his hand when he could rut with Mrc. Mrc is so nice to rut with. Mrc has dark eyes and white teeth, rut rut, and big arms and strong legs, rut rut rut rut, and lots of dark fur and a small pink hole, rutrutrutrut, and big firm flanks that turn red when Esc slaps them, rutrutrut, and if Mrc was here he could rut with Mrc and slap him on the flank, rutrutrutrutrut, and Mrc would say “Oh Esc, that is good, very good, I like it when you rut just like that.” Rutrutrutrut flankholeMrcUNGH.
Esc wants to sleep now. His eyes shut. But …
Mrc!
Esc wakes. He hears rain drum on the grass and the rocks. He is glad he is in the cave. But where is Mrc? When will Mrc come back? Esc walks in the cave, back and forth and forth and back. He frets.
Now he can not sleep. He does not know what to do. Mrc has never left the cave and not come back. “Mrc, where are you? I can not sleep,” Esc says, but Mrc is not there and does not say “Here I am, Esc, I was mad but now I am not. I am back.”
Esc stares at the dirt. It is sad when Mrc is not there. Then Esc sees Mrc's furs on the ground, and his bones on a string. He took Cat, but he did not take his furs or his bones. Esc is glad now; he knows that Mrc will come back.
But Esc still can not sleep, so he takes a scrap of fur, and a piece of mammoth gut, and sits by the fire. He starts to work.
******************************************************************************************************************
The next day, when the sun starts to rise and the sky turns pink, Mrc comes back. He is wet, very wet. He still holds Cat. She is wet too, and mad. She looks small from the rain, very small, but her tail is a poof. Mrc shakes with cold. His lips are blue. His arms are scratched. There are leaves in his fur.
“Mrc, where did you go? What did you do?”
Mrc's voice is sad. “I slept in a tree. It rained and the twigs were sharp. I missed you.”
Esc is so glad he stands up and puts his mouth on Mrc's blue lips. “I missed you, Mrc! Come and sit down here. I will make the fire big for you. You will be warm.”
So Mrc sits by the fire and Esc pokes the coals so they glow hot. He puts a mammoth skin on Mrc's back and picks leaves out of Mrc's fur while Mrc gnaws on a bone. Mrc makes small glad sounds while Esc rubs his cold skin. Soon they both start to laugh and laugh at Mrc's fur and arms, and how small Cat looks when she is wet. Cat flicks her tail back and forth, poof poof, and she stalks off.
Mrc sighs, a small sigh. He points to the mouth of the cave. A stick leans on the rocks. “I made you a club last night, Esc, but it is not a good club.” Esc picks up the club and it is true, the club is not good, not very good. It bends too much, and the stone in the side is not sharp. He shrugs.
“I made you a sling, Mrc, but it is not a good sling.” He shows Mrc the fur and the gut, and it looks fine, but when Mrc swings it in the air, the rock flies out the back and lands by Cat. She jumps, goes raow hiss and hides from the rock.
They both laugh at their bad tools.
“It it not spring, Mrc, not yet. It is too cold now. I was wrong.”
“I will make you a good club for when it is spring, Esc, and we will go and hunt.”
“Will you make me the club right now?”
“Yes I will.” Mrc starts to stand, then yawns, a big yawn. “But I did not sleep in the tree, Esc! It was too cold and wet and sharp. I want to sleep now. Then I will make your club.”
Esc smiles at him. “That is fine. I did not sleep last night. I missed you. I will sleep too.” They curl up by the fire.
Mrc's voice is soft, very soft. “We will sleep. Then we will rut. And eat. And then I will make the club.”
Esc sighs. “Yes. We will sleep, and rut, and eat, and then you will make me the club, Mrc, and if you do not I will put you out in the rain.”
Mrc does not say a word. Snore snore snore.
Also, 98% becomes 100% TOMORROW. No, really, TOMORROW.
Mrc and Esc: Spear, Sling, Club
Esc stands in the breeze and sniffs the wind. It smells fresh and clean.
The air is warm, and the days start to grow long once more. It is spring! Esc is glad. He likes it when the days are short and cold, and he can spend his time in the cave with Mrc. The cave is dark and snug. They sleep and eat and rut, then rut and sleep and rut and eat and sleep some more. It is nice, very nice. But spring means more good food, fresh meat and green plants, bright days and warm, dry nights. Now they can lie on the grass and look up at the stars and give them names, and they will not be snowed on. Now they can go and swim in the clear, cold stream, and Esc can try to catch a fish with his hands while Mrc flops on his back to see how big a splash he can make.
Best of all, now they can hunt! Esc goes back to the cave. Mrc squats by the hot coals and chews on a piece of dried cow. Cat purrs at his feet and gnaws on her own piece of cow. Purr purr.
“Mrc, it is Spring! Where are the spears you made?”
But Mrc turns his back on Esc and pets Cat. “I did not … not here. They will be here. Soon.”
Esc frowns. “We will hunt ducks. Where are the slings?”
“Not here.”
“Clubs?”
Mrc pokes at the coals with a stick, and they glow bright. He tries to look like he does not hear Esc. Esc frowns more. He does not like this, not at all.
“Did you make spears and slings and clubs, Mrc?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“They are … not here.”
Esc puts his hands on his hips. “You did not make them, Mrc!”
“Yes I did! I will!” Mrc throws his stick on the ground and stands up. He is mad. “I will make them soon. When spring starts.”
Esc kicks at the dirt; he is mad too. “It is not spring soon. It is spring now! You said 'Esc, I will make all the slings for you, for spring.' But you did not do it. And now it is spring and how will we hunt?”
“I tried to make them for you, but I did not have time. I had lots of things to do.” He bends down to feed Cat scraps and skritch her head, and he does not look at Esc. Esc stomps up next to Mrc. Cat flicks her tail at him. They are her scraps, not his.
“It was dark and cold, Mrc. Each day! No cow or duck or mammoth to hunt. No plants to find. No fish to catch. No things to do.”
“Lots of things!” Mrc glares down at Esc; Esc is small and Mrc is big, but Esc is not scared. Mrc is not mean to things that are small and soft. “I had to eat. And sleep. And rut. Those things take time.”
Esc nods. “We did eat and sleep and rut. That is true. But you did not make one spear? One sling? One club?” His voice falls; he is so sad. Now he will not hunt for days and days.
Mrc hangs his head. He sees that Esc is sad. “I planned to make you a good club, very good. Strong and sharp. You could kill a big mammoth! But each time I tried, I thought 'I will not do it now. Now I want to sleep. Now I want to rut. I will make it soon.' And then it was spring! And so I did not make you the club.”
“I cleaned furs. I ground bones. I cooked food. All you did was eat food, and sleep on furs, and rut with me. You are bad!”
“I am not bad, Esc! I will make the spears and clubs. We will hunt soon.”
Esc does not mean to shout, but his voice gets loud. “I want to hunt now. You are bad, and all you want to do is rut, and I do not want to go hunt with you!”
“Make your own club!” Mrc shouts back. He picks up Cat and grabs her hard. She goes hiss raow and squirms, tries to claw the air. “Find your own cow! I do not have time.” He turns and stomps out of the cave.
***************************************************************************************************
That night, Esc can not sleep. He lays on his back and stares at the top of the cave. It is dark and warm next to the fire, but Mrc is not there to sleep all curled up with him. He wants to eat, but but Mrc is not there to say the cow tastes good. He wants to rut, but Mrc is not there to rut with him.
He still wants to rut, so he starts to rut with his hand. Rut rut rut. Sigh. Rut rut rut rut. Rut rut rut …
Sigh.
Esc is bored. It is no fun to try and rut with his hand when he could rut with Mrc. Mrc is so nice to rut with. Mrc has dark eyes and white teeth, rut rut, and big arms and strong legs, rut rut rut rut, and lots of dark fur and a small pink hole, rutrutrutrut, and big firm flanks that turn red when Esc slaps them, rutrutrut, and if Mrc was here he could rut with Mrc and slap him on the flank, rutrutrutrutrut, and Mrc would say “Oh Esc, that is good, very good, I like it when you rut just like that.” Rutrutrutrut flankholeMrcUNGH.
Esc wants to sleep now. His eyes shut. But …
Mrc!
Esc wakes. He hears rain drum on the grass and the rocks. He is glad he is in the cave. But where is Mrc? When will Mrc come back? Esc walks in the cave, back and forth and forth and back. He frets.
Now he can not sleep. He does not know what to do. Mrc has never left the cave and not come back. “Mrc, where are you? I can not sleep,” Esc says, but Mrc is not there and does not say “Here I am, Esc, I was mad but now I am not. I am back.”
Esc stares at the dirt. It is sad when Mrc is not there. Then Esc sees Mrc's furs on the ground, and his bones on a string. He took Cat, but he did not take his furs or his bones. Esc is glad now; he knows that Mrc will come back.
But Esc still can not sleep, so he takes a scrap of fur, and a piece of mammoth gut, and sits by the fire. He starts to work.
******************************************************************************************************************
The next day, when the sun starts to rise and the sky turns pink, Mrc comes back. He is wet, very wet. He still holds Cat. She is wet too, and mad. She looks small from the rain, very small, but her tail is a poof. Mrc shakes with cold. His lips are blue. His arms are scratched. There are leaves in his fur.
“Mrc, where did you go? What did you do?”
Mrc's voice is sad. “I slept in a tree. It rained and the twigs were sharp. I missed you.”
Esc is so glad he stands up and puts his mouth on Mrc's blue lips. “I missed you, Mrc! Come and sit down here. I will make the fire big for you. You will be warm.”
So Mrc sits by the fire and Esc pokes the coals so they glow hot. He puts a mammoth skin on Mrc's back and picks leaves out of Mrc's fur while Mrc gnaws on a bone. Mrc makes small glad sounds while Esc rubs his cold skin. Soon they both start to laugh and laugh at Mrc's fur and arms, and how small Cat looks when she is wet. Cat flicks her tail back and forth, poof poof, and she stalks off.
Mrc sighs, a small sigh. He points to the mouth of the cave. A stick leans on the rocks. “I made you a club last night, Esc, but it is not a good club.” Esc picks up the club and it is true, the club is not good, not very good. It bends too much, and the stone in the side is not sharp. He shrugs.
“I made you a sling, Mrc, but it is not a good sling.” He shows Mrc the fur and the gut, and it looks fine, but when Mrc swings it in the air, the rock flies out the back and lands by Cat. She jumps, goes raow hiss and hides from the rock.
They both laugh at their bad tools.
“It it not spring, Mrc, not yet. It is too cold now. I was wrong.”
“I will make you a good club for when it is spring, Esc, and we will go and hunt.”
“Will you make me the club right now?”
“Yes I will.” Mrc starts to stand, then yawns, a big yawn. “But I did not sleep in the tree, Esc! It was too cold and wet and sharp. I want to sleep now. Then I will make your club.”
Esc smiles at him. “That is fine. I did not sleep last night. I missed you. I will sleep too.” They curl up by the fire.
Mrc's voice is soft, very soft. “We will sleep. Then we will rut. And eat. And then I will make the club.”
Esc sighs. “Yes. We will sleep, and rut, and eat, and then you will make me the club, Mrc, and if you do not I will put you out in the rain.”
Mrc does not say a word. Snore snore snore.