Transcendence

Transcendence Page 30

I scratch at my chin and jaw. The beard I have grown over the winter is fuller than it has been in previous years, and it’s itchy now that the day has grown warm. I rub at the back of my neck, too, and realize how long my hair has gotten. Beh’s hair is really long, and I watch as she reaches behind her head and wraps her hair around itself, twisting and turning it into a long cord down her back.

Intrigued, I move over to her and run my fingers down it. It doesn’t hang down as low as it usually does, but I’m sure she didn’t cut it. Beh turns and looks at me over her shoulder, making sounds the whole time with her mouth. I look to her and then to her hair in my hand. I give it a little tug and Beh swats at my fingers.

“No, Ehd!”

Worried she will continue to be mad, I drop down and nuzzle against her belly. I glance up at her and then quickly look down again. I run my nose over the fur wrap around her until I feel her hand on my head, and I know I am forgiven.

Beh picks more flowers, some mushrooms, and the buds and tender young leaves from many of the plants as we go by on our way to the lake. I grip my spear tighter as we approach, making Beh stay in the shadows of the evergreens as I scan the area first. I am not going to take any chances at all—not when Beh has a baby inside of her.

Every time we come to the lake, I’m reminded of the man who tried to take Beh from me.

Once I am certain there is no one else around, I pull the little round firestarter from a fold in my fur wrap and use it and a piece of flint to get a small blaze going. Beh goes to the water and fills one of the water bags. She lays it on the hide on a stick and then fills a clay pot with water. She takes my hand, and I don’t bother to fight about it. I quickly immerse myself and let Beh scrub at my hair and face. Once she has deemed me clean enough, I sit next to the fire and try to warm up a bit while I watch Beh bathe.

She drops her furs to the ground, and I see she is still wearing the little pink things even though they seem a little stretched over the top half of her, and the bottom half kind of folds and rolls over itself underneath the bulge of her stomach. I feel my smile broaden as she turns to one side, and I can see the silhouette of the bulge where the baby is growing.

I keep my eye on her as I go to the edge of the water where flint can usually be found. I find a good-sized piece and a stone to knock against it. I need some sharper knives as many of mine have become dull with use. I get a few long, sharp slivers and then go back to the water near Beh and sit down to wait for her.

The ends of my hair are still wet, and they feel chilly against the back of my neck. I reach behind my head and grab a chunk of hair and then use one of the new flint blades to saw through it.

“Ehd!” I hear Beh call out my name-sound and I look up at her. Her eyes hold shock and confusion, and I immediately drop my flint and pick up my spear again. I look all around us but see nothing out of the ordinary. When I look back to Beh, she is walking toward me.

She stops and lays her hand against my head, making a bunch of noises as she runs her fingers over my hair. She reaches up with her other hand and grabs hold of the end of my hair on one side—the side I have already cut shorter—and shakes her head.

Running her hand down my arm, she pulls me down to sit on the stones as she takes up my last bit of flint and goes to work on my hair. It doesn’t take her long, but when she is done, she takes me back to the lake and washes me off again. I run my fingers through the shorter strands, and I am surprised at how even it feels. I usually end up with long bits in random places around my head.

Beh makes more mouth sounds, takes my hand, and sits me down near the fire. I wait as she grabs one of the cloths she uses to wash and dunks it in the pot of warm water. She looks over my face very carefully, and I stay still under her gaze. Beh reaches up and rubs the hair on my face. Then she presses the warm, wet cloth to one side of my face and holds it there.

I’m not sure why she’s doing this—she’s already washed my face—but I don’t move to stop her. The warmth feels good as she washes my cheeks and neck.

My mate picks up one of the flint blades in her hand and removes the cloth from my skin. With a slow, smooth motion, she runs the edge of the blade across my jaw. I widen my eyes as I watch her smile come across her face.

“Luffs?” I don’t know what she’s doing, but she seems very happy about it, so I stay still as she runs the edge of the sharp rock over my neck and cheeks. When she’s done with one side, she does the other. She puts down the flint and holds the warm cloth to my face again—first one side and then the other.

Beh sits back on her heels and give me another smile as she makes noises. She takes my hand and presses it against my cheek.

My beard is gone!

The skin of my face is smooth just like Beh’s. I run my fingers all over, but there is no hair anywhere. It feels strange but nice as well. My face isn’t itchy anymore and feels soft when I touch it.

I look at Beh, who is still smiling and making mouth sounds. I rise up on my knees, take her face in my hands, and look into her eyes. They flicker around my face and head as I lean close and first run my nose over one cheekbone and then the other. Her hands cup my face, too, and she rubs her thumbs over my cheeks before her lips press to mine.

I place my hands on her shoulders and then run them down her arms and wrists. I move them to the front of her and lay them over her rounded stomach. Beh looks down, her eyes becoming wet as she looks at my hands on her belly.

“Beh, luffs?” I hope it will bring back her smile, and it seems to for a moment. I can feel how worried she is, and I am not sure if she is worried for the baby, our food supplies, or for something else entirely. I only know I want her to be sure of me and know that I will provide for her and protect her and the baby. I will never let anything happen to them, and I will make sure they both have enough for next winter. I will always take care of them first, making sure there is plenty for both of them in the coming seasons.

My hands push the tears from her cheeks, and Beh tries to smile at me.

“Loves,” she whispers.

I wrap my arms around her to show her everything will be all right. Beh’s tears finally dry, and we gather up everything to bring back to the cave.

As the days pass from warm to hot, Beh’s belly gets bigger, and she doesn’t seem to be as sad as she was early on. Sometimes, she still gets upset for no apparent reason, but she always does that. It’s just a part of her.

My mate is unusual, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Fresh foods and meats are plentiful in the spring and summer days though most of the game is in the form of birds, rabbits, and fish. We need another large animal for its hide—the baby will need to be kept warm—so I dig another pit trap along the steppes far from our cave home.

Beh tries to help at first, taking a large, flat rock and scraping the dirt away from the area I’ve selected on the trail where many large aurochs have passed to get from their feeding and living areas to the lake. If I could get one of the large oxen to fall and injure itself in a hole, I would be able to finish it off quickly. They are so large, a single one would provide not only plenty of meat but also sinew for tying, hide for clothing, and bones for tools. Its horns and organs can be useful for many other things as well.

Once Beh sits back and grimaces with her hand around her stomach, I make her stop trying to dig with me. I know it will take days to make the pit trap even if she does help, and I don’t want her in pain. She backs off with a sigh and goes to the hide on a stick to pull out the reeds she had collected at the lake. She begins to weave them together, and I have to smile at how quickly she makes something useful.

The things she makes are far from pretty, but they can usually hold something.

I continue to dig, getting into a rhythm that doesn’t allow for much thought. The steppes are hot today, and the sun burns down on my bare skin as I work, creating what must be a river of sweat running between my shoulders and down my back. Beh startles me a little when she brings over the water skin and makes me drink. She makes a lot of sounds and runs her hand over the side of my face as she smiles at me.

I think she likes it when I don’t have a beard, so I let her cut it off when we go to the lake to bathe. It always makes her smile, and then she runs her hands all over my face. Usually after she’s done touching it, she grabs my shoulders and places her mouth on mine. Soon after that, she grabs my penis and puts it inside of her.

I’m glad she still wants to do that even though she already has a baby in her. I still wonder if another one will start growing, too, and if they will both come out at the same time. That never happened to the women in my tribe, though, and I have seen plenty of babies being born.

The day grows late, and I’m not even halfway done. I would stay until nearly dark if I were on my own, but I want Beh back in our cave and safe before nightfall. We make a quick trip to the lake where Beh takes my hand and starts making a lot of noises as we approach the far side. She takes me to where the best clay can be found, points at it, and then points at the hide on a stick.

She goes to wash in the lake, and I sigh as I start to dig. After several handfuls of clay are sitting on a grass mat on the hide, I lean back and stretch out. My eyes move over to Beh for a moment, and then I slowly and automatically scan the line of trees for any signs of danger.

In the woods off to one side, something catches my eye. I stare for a moment, trying to figure out what it is, but I’m not sure. It looks like a large, round rock, but it is bright white. Intrigued, I get up from my place by the little inlet to the lake, check Beh once more, and walk a little ways into the trees.

As I approach the white rock-like thing, I realize there is more white stuff on the ground there, not just the round part. I don’t have to get very close before I realize exactly what it is—the white, round skull of a person. The other pieces consist of a handful of ribs, part of the spine, and hip bones. There are a few other random bones scattered about as well.

I recall the man who had attacked Beh in the autumn and know this was the way he ran after I hit him with the log. I lean over and see that the surface of the skull has a long crack in it. The crack is in the same area where the log struck him.

I have to swallow as bile rises to my throat, and a shudder runs through my body. I take several steps away from him, not wanting to feel sorry for the man who had tried to take Beh from me but unable to feel happy to know he could not threaten us again because of what I had done.

I had never hurt someone before.

Never.

I hear Beh calling my name-sound and swallow hard again before turning back to the clay and the hide. When I walk out of the woods, Beh makes many noises and runs her hand over my face. Her eyes narrow with concern as her sounds become soft, and she looks over my shoulder into the forest. As she touches my arm, I realize I am shaking.

I quickly take her hand and lift up the end of the hide on a stick, intending to head straight back to the cave. Beh has other ideas, though, and drags me over to the water to wash me off. The cool water over my hot skin calms me, and for once, I am grateful for her insistence on cleanliness.

The sun has nearly set by the time we reach the cave, and we are both exhausted from the day. As soon as we have eaten, we go to our furs. As I place kisses over her huge belly, I wonder how long it will be before the baby decides to come out and if the baby will look like me. Beh’s hands run over my face and shoulders, and my fingers tease at her nipples and between her legs until she cries out for me.

That night, I dream.

I am holding Beh’s hand as she balances on the balls of her feet over a pile of soft furs. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she makes a groaning sound while I reach down and catch the baby that falls out from between her legs. The tiny thing lets out a long, healthy wail, and I hold it up for Beh to see. Beh’s eyes go wide, and she collapses to one side—unmoving. I shake her and scream her name-sound, but she doesn’t respond. Her face transforms into that of a woman from my tribe…one who died while giving birth to her daughter…

When I wake, I’m covered in cold sweat and shaking. I swallow hard to stop myself from crying out loud and reach my arms around Beh to bring her close to me. She mumbles in her sleep and fidgets—it seems hard for her to find a comfortable position now—but then settles back down.

I had forgotten about the woman in my tribe who had been trying to give birth for so long in the middle of the winter, only to fall just after the child was born. Though the baby was healthy and survived off the breast of another woman, the mother never even opened her eyes long enough to see the child.

My mother had given birth with ease to so many children, I haven’t even thought about how it was sometimes difficult for others. What if Beh can’t get the baby out for a long time, and it hurts her? What if the baby doesn’t come out on time or comes out too late? What if she needs help, and I don’t know what to do?

What if something happens to Beh—how will I take care of the baby? I don’t have another mother to nurse it, and I’ve never seen a man use his nipples that way. I’m pretty sure they don’t work. How will the baby survive?

How will I survive?

I have lived on my own for a long, long time, and just the last few seasons with Beh make me realize there is no way I ever want to be alone again. I would never be able to survive without Beh with me. I wouldn’t even want to live if she were no longer here.

I reach over and rub Beh’s round belly, hoping the contact with her skin will calm me. It works to a degree, especially when the baby begins to move around, and I feel little knees and elbows—at least, I think that’s what they are—poking against the inside of Beh’s stomach. It doesn’t seem to move quite as much as it used to, and I think maybe it’s too big to move around so much.