The Foundling

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TO BLACK BUTTERFLY SHORT STORIES

The foundling

   Something is different with my dreams. For a long time I have dreamt of forests and streams and cold rocks and I do not know why. I can not recall ever dreaming of them before. New images crowd my brain, dismissing all else. No more are there buildings, touching the sky, the bright  white sun glinting on their black glass, no more are there people crowding me, walking where I walk, touching me without 'touching' me.

  'It's a dream, Lucien. Just another dream.'

  Her voice is soft, reassuring but still there are dreams that she can not soothe away.

  I force myself to second level, begin my day. Another meaningless day.

  "Looking good, Lucien, looking very promising."

  I look down at the building I have drawn. It is tall, elegant, glass and steel, shining.

  "What's this?"

  Serena is pointing to the feather light green foliage my beautiful building emerges from.

  "Trees."

  She stifles a laugh. "Trees?"

  I nod.

  "Mr. Truber should see this."

  "Why?"

  "Trees?"

 "There were ... Trees."

   "When?"

  I lower my head. "A long time ago."

  "Too many history tapes I think."

  "Don't you ever wonder?"

  "No. No, I never do."

  I delete the trees from the screen.

  "You see," Serena's voice is encouraging. "You have a real talent Lucien. That is a wonderful building."

  "Can't fault her there."

  I stand as Truber approaches my station.

  "Thank you Mr. Truber."

  "I think we should copy this to the board."

  "To the board?" Serena sounds more excited than I feel.

  "To the board," Truber says. "Your section is doing very well, Serena. You're to be congratulated."

  "Do you think they will build it?"

  "Why I should certainly hope so. I'll go further and say I would be very surprised if they didn't start construction very soon."

  Serena puts her hand on my shoulder. "Well done, Lucien."

  My building is complete. It even bears my name, the Lucien Ferro building and I dream of it but when I dream of it, it has trees and vines and climbing plants.

  I turn my head. My eyes open for the first time and I see what I should not see and not what is behind my eye lids.

  Something is very wrong with my dreams.

  I do not hear her. My mother, she does not comfort me.

  I struggle to second level but sleep clings and the no sleep time when I saw ....

"As a tribute to our young architect of the year it has been

decided that the Lucien Ferro Building will house the Global History Archive."

  Thunderous applause greets Truber's announcement. I force a smile.

  "Appropriate," Serena whispers.

  "I'm sorry ..." I start to say but she shushes me.

  "Nothing to be sorry for. You deserved it. Honestly Lucien I think sometimes you don't have any idea how good you are."

  "They keep telling me I'm good but ..."

  "Lucien, if you would care to say something." Truber gently pushes me towards the microphone.

  "I .... I just want to say thank you ... To the board, to Mr. Truber but mostly to my team leader, Serena Bliss who had faith in me ... Who has faith in me even when I don't have faith in myself. And I would like to thank the G.H.A for housing the archive in a building I created. It's a great honour."

  Serena puts her hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Lucien."

  "It's a fact. I could not have done it without you."

  "You could, but it would have had trees." She laughs lightly and I smile, perhaps even genuinely.

  My dreams are more troubled than ever. The forests are growing. The trees are taller and straighter than I could ever imagine and there are mounds of earth and debris and the smell of decay.

  I can feel cold air on my naked skin, hard earth beneath my useless hands. I can not move. I can hardly breath.

  "It's just a dream, Lucien, change it."

  "Where were you when I woke up? When my eyes opened and I saw what I saw, where were you then?"

  "It was just a dream. Not real. It was just your imagination."

  "I was awake, mother."

"Don't be foolish, dear. You were asleep. Now hush. Relax. Dream pleasant dreams."

I spend most of my time in the building, in the archive. It's fascinating. I know I should be at my desk but I book it as research time so nobody really minds. Even Serena when she is feeling kind, approves. The drawings I've submitted seem to  please her. But they are cheap. Dashed off in minutes. to The real value lies in the things that I see in the archive.

  My dreams are fairly accurate only everything seems bigger in my dreams. Trees were tall and covered vast areas of the surface once.

 At one time, there was probably as much surface area covered by trees as there is now covered by concrete, steel and glass. That is an amazing fact. And no one built them there, they just happened in all their infinite variety.

  There were so many kinds; ash, oak, sycamore, ebony, pine, the list is endless. And then they all died and that makes me feel strange and sad inside.

  This is not a dream. Every instinct tells me that this is not a dream. I have tried to move and fallen. I lie on the cold hard floor of my cell, eyes wide open, unable to move without help from anywhere.

  I call out but nothing responds.

  I have cut lose from the tubes, the narcotic no longer numbs my brain but my body still won't respond.

  After what seems like an eternity, I manage to crawl across the floor to the mantainence hatch. If I could just get inside the place would sense me, return me, put me back to sleep.

  I inch my way forward. The cover slides beneath my fingers and I enter the tube.

"If I could fly, like a bird I'd fly

    If I could swim, I would swim the sea.

    I'd journey far, as a man can go

To bring my love, safe home to me... What the JHC is that?"

   Asher in his long coat and with his bow taut, approached the

mound in trepidation.

  "What a stench! Phew! That is ripe!"

  He put down the bow and approached with the long stick he carried.

  "Phew hoo. That's some powerful smell."

  Using the stick he turned over the leaf litter and found a hole. Perfectly round and full of something white and moving.

  "Oh my stars. What do we have here?"

  Asher bent forward and sniffed at the hole and the white thing. His powerful exhalation at the stench that greeted his finely tuned olfactory sense made the white thing squirm. He drew back quickly.

  He drew back quickly.

"Too small to hurt ya Ash," he said out loud. "Dig the little fella out and see what ya got."

  Gently he cleared the earth around the hole and then, twice as gently, pawed the white thing onto the freshly turned soil.

  It was small, it's skin hairless though it had a distinguishable head, body, even limbs that didn't seem a whole lot of use to it they were so short and stubby.

  "What in the world are you?"

  In its' head a gap opened and inside Asher could see a little pink tongue and toothless gums.

  "Ain't no pup I ever saw look like you little sprout. You're a strangeling all right."

  From inside the long coat, Asher removed a pelt and wrapped it around the white thing. It still made no sound though its' 'mouth' gaped open.

  Next he removed his quiver from his back, took out the arrows

and popped the white thing, wrapped in its pelt, inside the

quiver. It was a tight fit but at least the head was poking out so

 it wouldn't be suffocated by the time he got it back to the den.

The idea of taking it back was a recent thought in Asher's mind. He knew that it was probably best to leave it where it was but having moved it he didn't think its parent would come back to it with a man scent on it and if it was something's dinner, then he was sorry for that and placed a fresh killed rabbit in the hole by way of recompense.

  He slung the quiver onto his back, felt the weight rather more than he wanted to, then picked up the arrows and the bow and using the stick as an aid to walking, started the long walk home.

  Maybe come spring, when there was daylight again, he would break in the young ox to pull a

 cart, but as of now he was on foot and the snow was getting deeper by the hour.

  At least they now had enough food for the winter. Even with the token rabbit gone he had enough stashed on the sled at the edge of the forest to last nearly the whole settlement let alone his own small family.

 Asher was considered by most to be the best hunter around for a long walk. He had learned the skills of the forest from his grand sire and his sire, he knew where and what to trap, what leaves and berries were good to eat, and what was medicinal and what was just plain poison.

  His senses were so finely tuned to his surroundings that it was said he could smell a fish in a river. No one ever starved around Asher TwoMoons.

  As he reached the edge of the forest he saw the sled piled high with pelts and meat, branches of leaves and berries just where he had left it.

  Quickly he took the quiver from his back and lodged it securely amongst the furs. The white thing seemed to still be

alive but how long it would last in this cold with not a hair on it, Asher didn't know. It seemed such a strange and quiet little thing. If it had been a pup it would have been hollerin' to be fed miles back. It was almost as if it were sleeping.

  He took the two looped ropes and pulled them up his arms onto his shoulders. He would use the stick as a lever going up the hill and a break going down, as he always did but he would

have to be more careful going over the rough ground. The white thing might be secure but he didn't want to take the risk.  

At the top of the hill, Asher threw back his head and howled, long and low.

  Where the den nestled in the curve of the Mander River, lights suddenly shone out and he could make out the shapes of his family spilling out into the front yard.

  Walking very carefully because he was going down backwards, Asher made his way down to the frozen river.

  It took a long time, a lot longer than normal. He was acutely aware of every bump in the ground that must be transferring directly through the sled to the white thing and all he could do was pray that the thing was still alive. He hadn't brought it this far just to have to bury it.

  His pups, the eldest two, were sliding across the river.

  Asher held up his arms and sent them back. The last thing he

wanted was to have their extra weight on the sled, or to have them pawing over his important package.

  The pups looked disconsolate as Asher finally brought the sled into the yard. Only the smallest, a three year old female called Nella, ran towards him.

  "Stay back from the sled, child."

  "Did you bring a bunny?"

  "No, no girlie, I didn't bring a live bunny this time. You go in

the house. Manda  you come here. You pups take yer sister in doors."

  His wife stepped towards him. She still looked drawn from the loss of their last born pup at the end of Summer.

  "What is it? Why have you sent them in?"

  "Come here and look."

  He drew her to the sled, carefully removed the quiver and showed her.

  "Asher! What is that? Oh my life. It looks like a hairless pup."

  "Don't it so, but I don't think it is. We'll put it in the barn an' I'll go get Elder Thorson."

"You can't just go straight over there only just come back from huntin'. And ya can't put it in the barn. It'll die for sure."

  "If it is a hairless pup, its' hairless for a reason. Could be mange or lice."

  "I can't see it right out here. Bring it in the house, I'll keep the pups away."

  Asher obeyed and brought the quiver into the warm, light den.

Manda fended off her offspring's attention and brought the strange white creature to the fire.

  "What's that you got there, woman?"

  "Asher found it grandpa. I want to take a look, see what he found."

  The old man pulled down the pelt that covered the creature's face.

  "That's a termite. Put it on the fire. It'll burn awhile."

  "It is not a termite, grandpa. It's too big."

  "Termites grow big. Where d'ya find it Asher?"

  "In the woods. In a mound."

  "Big mound or small mound?"

  "Medium small."

  "Probably a wood bug then."

  "No, grandpa, it's only got four limbs."

  "I think we should ask Elder Thorson."

  "Can we keep it?" Nella asked. "Even if it's a tremite can I keep 'im as a pet."

  "She misses that damn dead cony too much. Nathan, I want you to go ask Elder Thorson to come over, if he'll be pleased  to do that."

  "It's snowin' mom."

  "So parka up good. Now go." She turned quickly and slapped her youngest daughter's hand away from the creature's mouth. "Don't you touch it. 'Landa, go take your sister and feed her and bring some dinner in for your pop."

  "I should go with the boy," Asher said.

  "He'll be fine. Elder will bring him back on the sled. You set and eat."

"That damn thing smells some," said the old man.

  "Oh hush grandpa. It smells like anything from the forest."

  "And that aint sweet."

  "Go to bed, grandpa. Ifn ya can't hush up, go to bed."

  The old man closed in on himself. The bitch had no respect, never had had.

  "It looks starved, Asher. Was there any sign of food layin near it?"

  "Not that I saw, lessen it is a termite and it ate its' way out."

  "I swear it looks starved."

  "Well what could it eat?"

  "I don't know."

  Yolander brought in her father's food on a tin plate. "Nella's greetin' again, momma. Say's she want to keep the grub."

  "Ifn' it is a grub ain't nobody keepin' it. It'll go at the back o' the hearth like grandpa said."

  "Burns 'im good."

  "Well, we will see."

They waited along time with the white creature lying there in front of the fire and then eventually Manda heard the tinkling of the Elder's deer sled bells and the soft clump of the stag's feet.

  "Go ask him in, Asher."

  Asher got up and went to the door.

  "Lead the stag inta the barn keep the sled under cover."

  "Doin' that pop."

  "Would ya come in, Elder?"

  "I will and thank you. Good evening to all."

  "Good evening Elder, will ya take a pot of beer. It's brewed from last year."

"Thank ya goodie Two Moons but I'll keep a clear head till I see what ya man found."

  "It's here by the fire, Elder."

  He strode across the floor, in his black coat and his black leggings and high shone black boots.

  "Take it out o' the quiver goodie. Let's get a good look at it."

Manda bent and extracted the strange white creature from the quiver.

  "My heaven, that's a big tormite."

  "I told ya it was a termite."

  "Oh, what a shame."

  "Ja, ja."

  "It seemed a might big for a termite, Elder," Asher said.

  "Oh they can grow a size, Asher. Have you never been to the bad lands."

  "No Elder I never have."

  "You'd see some sights if ya did. Tormite mounds tall as the trees."

  "As the trees?"

  "And they've fallen down some."

  "So this size of grub...."

  "Not unusual, not out there."

"But this was in our forest."

  "Hmm, so."

  "Elder, does it not look to you like it should have eyes?"

  The old man bent forward. "It does, Goodie Two Moons. She ain't  wrong Asher. She's a sharp eye."

  "And a termite grub wouldn't have need of eyes, would it Elder?"

  "No more it would." He examined the creature more closely.

"Could be you've a feral pup with the mange."

  "Oh the poor thing."

  "Pretty bad case if it is. Baddest I seen."

  "Will it die, d'ya think?"

  "I don't know. D'ya have mange powder."

  "I do but it's old."

  "Mix it into a paste with stale beer and spread it all over the body and its head. Make sure ya get betwixt it's digits. All the skin folds. Then just leave it in a hay box in yer barn an' by the mornin' it'll either be dead or not."

  "It's very cold in our barn, Elder."

"Why are all women so soft."

  This drew laughter from both the old man and his grandson.

 The thought of Manda being soft brought a smile to both of them.

  "Better for your own pups if you don't keep it in the house. Mange is terrible debilitatin' thing, 'specially in winter."

  Manda looked down at the strange creature and her heart ached as only a mother's heart aches when she sees a child in distress.

  "Will ya take that beer now Elder."

  I am awake. My life of dreams is ended and I ended it myself. All our lives are limited by our imaginations. I wanted to live my dreams. I wanted to see the trees and smell the earth and feel the

air on my skin.

  I did not understand. I thought I had lived so long but only minutes had passed. My body is small and useless. I am weak and helpless, unable now to even cry. So many lifetimes in one human brain and that brain so new and fragile.

  I need my mother but I have taken myself from her. By my hand, by my own hand.

  I feel warmth on my skin and there is a scent that I find strangely comforting. I feel her hands touching me. Is she my mother?

  She lifts me from the sweet smelling grass. I feel her breasts close  to my face. I taste the milk from her breast.

  Her voice is gentle.

"Hush my little one, sleep my little one

   Nothing is there to fear.

   All is quiet now, all is silent now,

   Momma is holding you near.

   Sleep now, sleep now.

   Momma is holding you ..."

  I open my eyes and look at her and she smiles.

  "Well now, little Blanco. Your eyes are pretty. Smile for me, little white pup."

I smile and I know that all the thousand generations that have lead me to this time, this place, are done. I am home and there will be no more buildings, no more concrete and shining steel. I will run in the woods, learn hunting skills from my father. My limbs will grow strong. I will be the best at what I do. And time will pass, I will grow old and die but my memories will stay alive, not in the way they have but in the telling to my young and theirs and then I will die. I  will sleep, a dreamless sleep.