The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK

  Chapter 5.

  The morning came later than usual, slowly giving way to a gray dawn. Close above the tree canopy, dark clouds loomed, unmoving. The forest floor below was wet and slippery, gently pelted by an incessant drizzle. The air was heavy, musty smelling.

  The clan descended quietly from its sleeping place in the bows above. A resolute silence permeated the group. Individuals slogged about in the wetness, glumly seeking shelter from the incessant rain. Mothers held their babies close, trying to protect them from the cold dampness. Other females huddled close together for warmth and comfort under drooping fronds.

  Alpha sat hunched under a nearby tree, surrounded by adolescent males who jostled for position closer to him. Cautiously they groomed him, searching through his fir for mites and fleas. No one made a sound. The grunts and yips usually heard were replaced by the staccato drip of rainwater off tips of leaves onto the soggy jungle floor.

  Rivulets of water trickled down between alphas frowning brows, then dripped off his chin. Occasionally he shifted position, folding his massive arms over his protruding belly. Each time he moved, those closest to him shied ever so slightly, then cautiously moved closer. Quietly they continued their respectful obeisance.

  Not far away, the young male crouched low, watching quietly. Occasionally a shiver ran down his back. Soaked to the skin in clammy wetness, he longed for the warmth and security he knew the others now enjoyed. His stomach rumbled softly, reminding him that he had not yet eaten.

  He knew from experience that the clan would remain this way, in quiet resolution, until the rain stopped. Then, as sunlight gradually broke through, they would resume their daily routine. Until then it was pointless for him to remain here watching.

  Always cautious, he backed away quietly. When he was sure he wouldn’t be noticed, he turned and took up a relaxed open gate, moving back toward the place where he had spent the previous night. The cold stiffness in his joints gradually gave way to a pleasant warmth as he increased his pace. As his body warmed his mood improved.

  Along the way the rain gradually stopped. Mist began to rise, gradually reaching higher and higher. Sunlight broke through the dense canopy, forming majestic translucent columns extending from the ground far up into the canopy, where birds and animals resumed calling to one another. The dreariness of the morning soon gave way to the cheerful brightness which always accompanied the end of a jungle rain shower.

  As he continued walking, hunger quickly took his attention away from his usual concerns. He would check on the clan later, he thought. Right now he needed to eat.

  Soon he stopped at a clearing that had a small pond near its center. A few small fruit trees were growing at the edge of the clearing. The fruit was not yet completely ripe, but his growling stomach didn’t seem to care.

  He selected several pieces and looked around for a place where he could sit and eat. Nearby, a shaft of sunlight shown through onto a small patch of grass. Just outside the clearing, surrounded on three sides, the spot looked safe. He walked the short distance to the spot and sat down to eat. The grass was barely damp and felt pleasantly warm.

  As he sat eating, he watched as birds flitted about the periphery. A few brave ones flew out into the clearing and landed, disappearing into the tall grass. He heard small splashes coming from the pond . . . probably a small rodent or a bird taking a cautious drink. A light breeze wafted across the clearing, causing the grass to sway in slow rhythm to its gentle passing. The sounds and smells of his homeland had returned once again to normal. He relaxed as the tension in his stomach dissipated.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement. He snapped his head in that direction, his body frozen in place, food still half chewed in his mouth. His breath caught in his throat.

  Nothing! Whatever it was, it had stopped moving. He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t smell it. But he knew it was there! He sprang to his feet, ready to flee. Still, nothing! His heart pounded in his ears. Slowly his eyes moved left, then right, straining to pick out even the slightest movement.

  There it was again! On the far side of the clearing, just at the corner of his vision! He strained to see, tried to pick out something that didn’t belong! Nothing!

  Ever so slowly he shifted his weight, preparing to ease back into the undergrowth and make his escape. There! Just behind that big tree trunk! A familiar outline . . . the shape of a face, partially hidden by leaves. It was staring right at him! The eyes . . . The dream!!

  His mind raced. His heart pounded ever faster. His head felt like it was about to explode. The dream!! He was back in the dream!!

  The face was moving, eyes still locked on him. A hand appeared, gently pushing a branch aside to expose more of the head. A tentative step forward exposed the upper torso. Another step exposed all of the body. It was female!! Not too young, but fully matured. She was looking straight at him! She did not avert her gaze. She did not break eye contact.

  His awareness of his surroundings vanished. All he saw was her. No peripheral vision . . . no sound . . . only the form before him. Frozen in place, he watched awe-struck as she took another step closer.

  Never before had he maintained eye contact this long with another of his species. What did this mean? His mind reeled with the implication. . . .

  Now, less than a dozen yards away, she broke eye contact, her attention focused on the ground before her.

  She was reaching for something. He couldn’t see what. The grass hid her hand. He sucked in a breath. It caught in his throat.

  Ever so slowly, deliberately, she raised her head, looking back up to him. Her eyes locked on his.

  Fight or flee? His mind was reeling! He couldn’t move. It seemed that his heart had stopped. The eyes!!

  Still holding eye contact, she slowly raised up. Awkwardly she balanced on her feet. Her left arm, bent slightly at the elbow, moved jerkily, helping her to balance. She was unaccustomed to standing upright. In her right hand she held a stick.

  Instinctively he snapped into a defensive posture. His movement caused her to start, but she didn’t back away. She didn’t break eye contact.

  For a long moment she did nothing. Then slowly she looked down at the stick in her hand. Extending her arm slightly, she looked back up at him . . . then let the stick fall to the ground.

  He focused his attention on the stick momentarily, then looked back up at her. He understood! She was like him! Not like the others! He could see it in her eyes! His breathing quickened. What to do to let her know he understood?

  Dropping to all fours, she moved a few steps toward the pond. Now he could see what she was doing. She was searching for something at the waters edge. There, partially exposed above the surface was a small stone. She reached for it, working it loose from the clinging mud. Glancing back at him, she moved back to the place where she had dropped the stick.

  Again rising onto her feet, balancing precariously, she tossed the stone a few feet in front of her. The movement caused her to loose balance. She dropped to all-fours. Her head cocked slightly, eyes searching him for some sign, some response.

  It wasn’t a dream! It was real! She was not simply imitating him. She was telling him that she comprehended what he had been doing.

  Not knowing what else to do, he moved slowly toward her. She backed away a few inches, then stopped and sat down. When he reached the spot where she had been, he too sat down. He reached down, thinking to pick up the stone and stick she had dropped. Looking up into her eyes, he hesitated. Instead, he left the objects where they were. With one hand he reached out slowly, letting his fingers lightly brush her face.

  Simian 2.