Waking up in Another World

A dim red glow shone through David’s eyelids as he regained consciousness. He lay flat on his back, the dense foliage soft beneath him. Finally, he pried his tired eyes open, blinking away the slight buzzing in his head. Sunlight filtered down through the green canopy above him and the quiet, familiar sounds of the jungle slowly reached his ears.

It wasn’t quite where he expected to wake up. However, it was comforting recognize the colorful press of trees around him, to spot the far wall of his old hut peeking into the clearing. Since being welcomed into the Kumeza village and then starting on the home he hoped to one day share with his betrothed, Akia, David had encountered very few opportunities to return to his solitary little dwelling inside the hollow tree. Living in the village among those he now considered family was wonderful, an experience he’d never had growing up with his domineering father. But there was a certain peace in his little clearing. Here he could be alone with his thoughts and take a moment for himself before returning to the bustle and responsibilities waiting for him in his new life.

And suddenly, he realized why Mato and the other elders must have brought him here from the sacred cave, rather than to his half-finished house in the village. Perhaps they suspected he’d like to wake up somewhere familiar and safe, but also away from prying eyes.

David still wasn’t sure he believed in the gift he’d supposedly received from the Kumeza’s gods, chief among them the almighty leopard. He certainly respected their religion, but the details of this gift seemed a little farfetched. Then again, something had happened in the cave, something right before he’d passed out. A sort of buzzing in his head, and a warm buoyancy in his chest.

After his eyes adjusted to the light in the clearing, David stood warily, expecting stiffness and disorientation, though he felt neither. His body moved easily and felt well rested. The only pain came from the almost healed wound in his shoulder, the one that had started this whole “sacred gift” idea.

Real or not, David felt undeserving of the Kumeza’s gift, and knew a number of the villagers agreed with him. All he’d done was fight alongside more skilled men than he, some who gave their lives even, to protect the village. Of course, David wasn’t the weak, uncoordinated boy he’d been when he embarked on the fateful hunting trip with his father that ultimately changed his life. For the better, David remarked often, in every way. He’d strengthened his body, first as a result of surviving alone in the jungle, and later thanks to regular chores and combat training in the village. But a little over a year of hard work wouldn’t replace the natural skill and years of experience many of the village’s fighting men had over him.

Mato, the village’s religious leader, saw things differently. Despite David’s status as an outsider, he made himself one of the Kumeza the day he fought to protect them. Not only that, but he put himself in the path of a knife meant for Nao, the village’s next chief. David had argued, once healed from the knife wound, that he’d acted without thinking, simply desperate to save his best friend and soon to be cousin-in-law. Every man in the village would have done the same, and many did that and more during the fight. David wanted to keep his family safe, the same as the rest. Mato and some of the other elders viewed his actions as fighting against his own kind, those men who attacked the village. But David, who had never fit in with his peers back home, felt no connection to the attackers and a fierce loyalty to the people who took him in, especially after they attempted to capture his fiancé, Akia, and harm Nao.

However, despite the grumblings from some of the villagers who still distrusted David, and felt the sacred gift should go to no one before an outsider, Mato and Achebe, the Kumeza’s chief, eventually agreed that David’s actions deserved reward. Mato spent several days in prayer while David finished recovering, seeking guidance from the gods. When he emerged, he brought news that the great leopard herself chose David to receive this once in a generation blessing.

Though curious about the gift, David’s first thought was to return to the village. He knew Akia would worry if he were gone too long. And there was still much left to do before their up-coming wedding, including finishing building their home. But something stopped David as he moved to the edge of the clearing, back toward the village. A soft, and yet somehow familiar, voice.

“Oh, he’s returned!” it chittered excitedly. “Hello! Are you alright? Why were you sleeping outside on the ground?”

David looked around wildly for the speaker, but saw no one. He was sure he’d never met another person who spoke so quickly and at such a high pitch. Still, he almost recognized the voice, like a memory from long ago. “Who’s there?”

The squeaky voice stopped short from its rambling questions before launching a new volley at him. “What? Say that again! You there, light boy. How is this possible? Do it. Speak again!”

David spun toward the sound and saw a flash of red-brown fur coming toward him. “Kipling?” It was a small, squirrel-like creature he’d met soon after finding the small clearing he’d eventually make his new home in the jungle. Lost, alone, and desperate for a friend, David had sort of adopted the creature, naming him Kipling after one of his favorite writers. He hadn’t seen Kipling in many months, since the last time he ventured out from the village to visit his old clearing.

“Kipling?” the high voice repeated and David knees went weak. He sat back on the ground hard, shaking his head as the buzzing returned. He stared at the animal who’d slowed to a stop in front of him. “Why do you say that whenever I find you? What does it mean?” David couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d gone mad. Because the squeaky-voice speaker was Kipling. And David could understand him.

“How is this possible?” David whispered to himself.

“That’s what I want to know. I asked first,” Kipling replied in his rapid, excited manner. “Why can I understand you? Except ‘Kipling.’ No idea what that means.”

David just stared at him. Kipling moved closer and David flinched away, though he’d never been frightened of the animal before. “I’ve lost my mind.”

“I can’t help you there, light-boy. Too busy to find things for you. I’m still trying to figure out how your words and my words are now the same words. You can understand me too, can’t you?”

“Yes,” David answered automatically.

“So what is ‘Kipling’? And why can you speak heliosciuridae all of a sudden? You couldn’t before. At least, I’m pretty sure. Have you been speaking my language this whole time? Was I just not listening?” The small squirrel went on and on, seemingly unconcerned with David’s distress.

It was true, all true. The sacred gift, the Kumeza’s animal gods. They were real. When Mato first explained that the gift, both a blessing and responsibility, would make David a bridge between the human and sacred animal worlds, he’d been skeptical, assuming the priest spoke metaphorically. Surely he wouldn’t actually be able to speak to animals.

As had happened so many times in his short life, especially since getting lost in the jungle and starting his new life, David was dead wrong. The gift was literal. As evidence by the still chattering squirrel in front of him. He tried to order his thoughts and actually focus on what Kipling was saying.

“What’s helios - heliosciuridae?” he asked hesitantly. It was the first question that came to mind.

Kipling’s nose twitched, almost annoyed-looking. “I’d began to think maybe you couldn’t understand me after all, light-boy. That’s what my brethren and I are called. Now what’s Kipling? I asked you first.”

“That’s... you. Or well, the name I gave you when we met. Er, sorry. I suppose that isn’t your actual name. What is it?” David wondered if he’d ever forget the novelty of speaking to his animal friend, the term taking on a new meaning now that they could understand one another.

The squirrel thought for a moment. “Names – we don’t have names the same way you people do. I am me. My mate is she. My brothers and sister are them. We know each other by scent, by sound. We do not need words for this.”

“Oh.” David wasn’t sure how else to respond. “Would it be alright if I still called you Kipling?”

His bushy red tail twitched. “I suppose. And what should I call you? When I tell my mate about you, I tell her about my light-boy from the clearing by the river. Can I still tell her about my light-boy?”

David laughed. “If you want. My fiancé actually calls me something similar sometimes. But my name is David.”

“Then I will call you David,” Kipling decided. “What is a fiancé?”

“A woman I love very much. Hmm, like my mate, I suppose. Or, she soon will be. Unless she decides she doesn’t wish to marry a crazy man who talks to squirrels.” David laughed again.

“Yes, how can you talk to us now?” Kipling wondered. “Is it all creatures, or just your people and now heliosciuridae? I am almost positive that I couldn’t understand your words before, when you lived in the clearing.”

David shook his head. “No, this is definitely new. I don’t know if it is all animals. According to my friend Mato, I am now the bridge between humans, my people, and animals. It was a gift from the leopard god.”

“I don’t know a leopard god. We try to steer clear of the big, toothy cats,” Kipling told him. “But I must say, I don’t mind that you have this gift now. I’ve always wondered what you were chattering on about all this time.”

David blushed, recalling the months, perhaps longer, that he’d spent alone in the jungle. He’d begun talking to Kipling to relieve some of the loneliness. He’d told the creature about his life, how he wound up in the jungle, complaining about the challenges of finding food or praising himself for building a functional snare, anything that came to mind.

“I’m glad we can understand each other too.” He smiled down at the squirrel. “Would – would you mind if I touched you?” He held out his hand palm up for Kipling to inspect. He’d held Kipling a few times before, enticing the animal with fruit into his hand or onto his shoulder. But now that Kipling could speak for himself, it seemed rude to assume he’d still want to be pet without asking first.

“You have any food?” Kipling asking, sniffing around David’s fingers. His whiskers were soft and cool.   

“Sadly no. But perhaps we could find some together?”

Kipling seemed content with that. He crawled into David’s hand, letting David stroke his nose before settling on his shoulder.

“This is certainly faster than walking myself, anyway,” Kipling commented, looking down to watch David’s long strides.

David doubted that. He’d seen the squirrel race up trees, no more than a blur of red and brown. As they walked, a pair of brightly colored birds flitted overhead. Curious, David called out to them.

“Hello!”

One of the birds miss-timed the rhythm of its wing strokes, veering off course and away from its companion. The other bird stared at him before speeding away into the canopy, its wayward friend close behind.

“I suppose other animals can understand me as well,” David commented to Kipling, “if those two’s reactions were anything to judge by.”

Kipling responded with a loud, enthusiastic chitter that David had heard before and realized now was a sort of laugh. “They sure looked surprised to see one of you squawking their words.”

David turned his head to look at Kipling. “Does it sound different when I speak to other animals?”

“Sure. Every creature that looks different sounds different. Is this not true for your people? Do your words sound the same as the one who used to visit here? Dark-boy, I called him.”

“Actually, no. Humans have many languages, many different ways with words,” David explained. He realized Kipling must be referring to Nao, who was the first among the Kumeza that David met. It had taken him a while to learn their dialect.

“The same is true of animals. I can make myself understood among other small tree-dwellers, creatures similar to Heliosciuridae. But birds? No. Most creatures can communicate on some level, but is isn’t always like the way you and I can speak now.”

David nodded, intrigued. He didn’t know why he’d assumed all animals understood one another, but it made sense that he was once again mistaken. And it was fascinating to hear their interactions, their language, described by an animal himself.

Eventually, after much nagging from Kipling, David found a small tree fruit he shared with the squirrel. As he left the juice-stained seeds to his companion, David studied the sky and realized it was later than he thought.

“Kipling, I am sorry, but I must return home. Akia and the others will be wondering where I am.”

“To your new nest, with the other humans? Not the clearing?” Kipling almost sounded… disappointed? Had he missed his human friend? David felt a little guilty for not thinking about Kipling much since moving to the village.

“Yes, to the village down the river. You – you could come with me, I guess. If you want to,” David offered.

Kipling scurried down David’s arm to rest in his hand once again. David looked him in the eyes.

“No. My mate, my family, are here, near the clearing. I cannot leave them anymore than you could leave your mate. But I hope you will visit again.”

David smiled. “I will,” he promised. With that, he set Kipling on the ground and walked to the edge of the clearing. When he turned, he saw only a pair of amber eyes watching him from the lengthening shadows. He would return, soon. He felt a little overwhelmed by another huge change in his life, but the knowledge that Kipling valued their friendship, even before they could speak to one another, just as much as he did, made this new change, new responsibility, worth it.

David had many worries plaguing his mind as he trekked alongside the river toward the village. Getting lost was one, as he’d never perfected navigating the jungle alone. Fortunately, despite the fading light, he had the river to guide him and the journey between his clearing and the village was a familiar one. His next worry centered around all the implications his ability to speak to animals came with. What did it mean to be the bridge between the human and animal worlds? He often joined Nao in hunting. What would that be like now that he could understand the animals they killed? What new responsibilities would he be expected to take on? David wasn’t afraid of hard work. He was grateful of every ounce of trust and faith his new family and friends put in him. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t warry of his growing accountability in the village, shadowed by his fear of making a mistake and losing the only people he truly loved. These concerns chased each other in his mind. However, none held the top spot. His biggest worry was how Akia would react to his new abilities.

Achebe, Akia’s father, had postponed their wedding, first to let David heal from his injuries following the attack, but then to bestow the sacred gift. He’d explained to David that the gift would be a significant change and responsibility, one that both he and Akia had to consider before taking the next step in their relationship. While the chief was confident in his daughter’s feelings for David, David himself sometimes still wondered. He’d joked with Kipling, but perhaps Akia really wouldn’t want to marry a man who could speak to animals. It was a lot to get used to. Back in his old life, had he revealed this ability, he’d be locked up in an asylum.

When David returned home, the village seemed to be holding its breath. Fires burned as they did every night, and the smells of dinner cooking greeted him. But conversations were held in whispers instead of boisterous shouts. Small children were out of sight rather than running from house to house with their friends. The first person to emerge was Akia, from her father’s home. When she saw him, her face lit up, and the wide smile stretching across it helped to soothe some of David’s worries.

She rushed forward to embrace him. “How do you feel?” she asked, stepping back, but not leaving his arms.

David shrugged. “Different. But still the same. If that makes any sense.”

“And it worked? You – you have the gift?”

He nodded and couldn’t suppress his wonder. “Yes! I actually spoke to Kipling, in the clearing. Do you remember, the red squirrel I told you about? It was incredible!” His enthusiasm faded as other villagers joined them. Some still disagreed with the choice to give David the sacred gift. But David was concerned with only one person’s opinion. “It this okay? Are we okay?”

“How do you say, ‘Of course we’re okay, you foolish man’ in squirrel?”  Akia asked, unable to hold back her laughter.

Grinning, David pulled her close once more and kissed her. “I love you,” he murmured so only she could hear.

“I love you,” she replied simply, as if stating the obvious. “Nothing can change that.” David let his worries go and believed her.