Untamed in nature

1.

Succumb to the hot air that felt as thick and sticky as syrup. Suffocating in its humidity and breathlessness. Gasping for air, panting like an animal. What differentiates me from those that live in the wild. My ability to integrate into society. My social skills and mannerisms? I prey on others for my own self-indulgence and approval just like a wild animal hunts its prey and is ranked in the food chain.

Scoping out the area I feel inclined to pounce just as a lion does. On all fours I do just that, into the forest, into the trees and unknown. Where no one can hear a thing except the rustle of the leaves from the wind and the subtle screeches of animals becoming dinner.

Feeling somewhat liberated, dirt under my nails, cuts along my thighs where I have been nicked by twigs and sticks. Stings all up my sun kissed arms.

Wildly untamed.

“Who am I?”

2.

Driven crazy by a corporate world that induced me into a self-loathing state, one where I felt worthless, and unkind. Never home for dinner, or to tuck the kids into bed. I was one of those fathers, the kind that missed their children growing up, never attending a soccer match and the one I did go too, I was looked at like an outsider, as though I did not belong. The working Dad with his priorities all mixed up.

They were right. Money got in the way and success consumed me. Yet my family relished in the money. To stay at work and do what I did best, “bark orders, be ruthless and bring home the cash.”

Those words came out of my wife’s mouth once, and from that day I realised the love was gone. The passion died and what was left was my bank account, linked to hers.

That was why she did not leave. Money.

Fair enough.

3.

The 3^rd of July, a brisk day for our Beckie’s graduation, topping her class; so proud of my beautiful baby girl. All grown up. As she stepped on stage to give her speech, tears formed in my eyes; quickly wiping them away to not appear weak.  

My wife turned to me; disappointment in her eyes as though to say, “you did nothing to get her here.”

Yet the money I made, paid for her fees and food, the nights out she enjoyed so much. All the dresses she frolicked about in, but no one remembered that.  I was just the ass hole that missed her ballet recital when she was 6.

I would like to think some of her brains she got from me. When she was a little tot, I would play pretend with her, we would act out scenarios, she was a shop owner and I the customer. Teaching her to count change and say her pleases and thankyous.

Topping her class, she acquired centre stage, being called forward to make her speech, intertwining and fiddling with her fingers, something she had always done when she was nervous.  

“I am so honoured to be up here today, it has been a journey, one which I have worked hard for. I am looking forward to the future and what further education may grant me the opportunity to do. All my teachers I thank you for being patient with me. Also, my mother and my brother. I could not have done this without your support and love. You made me who I am today. Thankyou.”

Not even a mention. You could hear the shakiness in her voice when she said the words, something her mother must have suggested she do just to push the knife in that little deeper. Clapping half-heartedly, I tried to let it not get to me.

 I would get my thanks one day.

3.

A meal paid for by me, sitting around like a happy family, a cheer to our Beckie.

“You made it sweetheart, and we are so proud of you.”

She kissed her mother on the cheek, a partial forced smile was shot my way. Smiling back, she turned her head away.

For the rest of the meal, I remained focused on my steak and chips, pushing the salad to the one side.

4.

Constantly glancing at my watch, time was moving so fast.

“Fuck.”

In only moments my daughter was leaving to move half the way across the country and here I am missing it, stuck inside these four grey walls.

Little did they think or appreciate that Beckie would not be moving if I were not sat in this meeting. There would be no new house. No new furniture or car. There would be no flights. Yet I am the one sitting here restless and sick to the stomach knowing my daughter is being let down by me once more.

She was gone not even having tried to call. Yet I suppose I had not either.

4.

The city lights blurring my vision, my office window overlooking the pathways of thousands of people, going about their daily business. Getting coffee, gossiping with friends. The runners who zig zag in and out of traffic. Watching them, questioning who they are and where they are going. Do they also have a family that resents them? I envy the ones walking in twos, so smugly smitten. I used to be like that.

Waves of overwhelming thoughts exhausted me, moments became longer as I sat and stare wishfully out the pristine clean window. My life becoming harder to evaluate positively and the window so clean it has become obnoxious; everything is perfect on the outside,

Panic subtly made its way in, the attack followed.

5.

Gasping and hunched over, the air feeling thick and sticky, unable to inhale, let alone exhale. I am dying, or at least, I thought I was.

Desperately typing 911 into my phone.

“Heart attack, heart attack, 20^th floor, William and Partners building A. Stewart Rodney. Help please.”

The line went dead. The phone on the floor. Unconscious. The last thing I remembered were the words uttered out my own mouth, “help me,” the next being,

“Sir you had a panic attack” laying like a fool in my hospital bed.

“Is my wife here?”

“No sir, we contacted her, and she said she will call a taxi for you once you are discharged.”

The woman who had said “I do” would not even pick me up from the hospital. Slumping back into bed instead of staring out my 20^th floor window I stared at the grey walls and dim hospital lights. Alone.

Determined not to go home.

6.

It all brought me here. In contact with no one. Not having touched technology in weeks. Doubtful any one had even tried to reach me.

Beating down the sun scorched my skin, little brown dots forming. Blister’s bubbling. Flying here was easy, money was no issue. The amazon always seemed untouchable but now here, nothing was off limits, determined to live in the wild, with as little as possible, without disapproving eyes and my wife’s desire to be rid of me but not the money.

Free and untamed, down on my hands and knees, like an animal unleashed. There was no one around to be disappointed in me or to judge me. Looking up at the sky it was filled with nothingness but with what seemed like all the blue in the world. Lifting my dirtied hands, roaring like an animal.

To let go, feel free and unleash the inner animal within.

7.

As the sun set and the heat stayed stagnant, the mosquitos were out on the hunt for flesh and my bear arms seemed most appetising, my can of cold beans on the other hand, not so much.

As the night rolled in the usual sounds of animals and trees rustling lingered in the forest. Doing my best to ignore it all. The most unusual seemed to appear the loudest however seemed the furthest away.

A slow hour went by drifting into a light slumber, awoken only an hour later to the sound of my tent being unzipped. Struggling to conclude whether it was a dream or reality. A shadow of a human stood at the door, unsure whether animal or human; a shape hard to determine but with more alert eyes it became clear it was a woman. Breathless and only just managing the words,

“Who are you?”

“Come outside.”

Reluctantly I crawled out the tent. Still struggling to tell what was real.

“Please don’t hurt me, I don’t mean no harm.”

The more my eyes focused on her, the more human like she became, her long dark her fell off her shoulders, her blue eyes pierced through the darkness; beautiful.

With so much surprise she started speaking fluently English a rather sweet and angelic voice.

“I am not here to hurt you; I am here to help you. I am an aid worker working in one the villages not far. I saw you during the day and have been trying to find you all evening, how did you get out here? It is not safe to be out here alone.”

“I wasn’t expecting English” an attempt at humour she did not seem to find funny.

“I came from America, I flew out here a few weeks ago and have been travelling solo since, trying to escape some things; find a purpose again. My family, well. let us just say they don’t want me around.”

“That is a very charming story, but you can’t be out here alone, the mosquitos alone are enough to kill you. You have ventured out of the touristy areas; you are in the thick of it now. I want you to come with me, stay at the camp.”

“Thank you for your concern but I think I will be ok, I have quite the set up going on” gesturing to the tent, another failed attempt at humour.

“Look I am not asking I am telling you. My name is Kathy by the way. It is nice to meet you. Let’s go.”

“I am Stewart.”

Off we went.

7.

The next morning dazed and confused, even more unsure where I was then yesterday. Heat exhaustion was taking its toll and now more than ever climate change felt ever so real.

The heat woke me in the early hours, tossing and turning, finally getting out of bed. Emerging to see the hustle and bustle of the village before me. And there she stood even more charming than she was in the dark. Graciously making her way over towards me, a cup of water in hand, with a parched mouth it was a welcomed site.

The conversation flowed and it all seemed to be easy. Her demeaner was blunt but kind, she seemed to her eyes were alluring, and I could not help but stare, the sexual tension was rising; unsure if the feeling was reciprocated.

“You said you wanted to escape from something? How would you feel about staying to help out around here?”

“I don’t know Kathy; I have never done anything like this before.”

“It is not that hard and there’s no better time to start, grab those paper plates.”

8.

Cleaning, and serving. Tending to cuts, bruises and vicious coughs, illnesses I had never heard off. I was Kathy’s left hand man or, so she had me believe. Beginning to interact with the tribe and earn the respect of the village leaders, starting to gain self-importance other than the act of bringing home the bucks. I was needed; wanted.

Since that one odd day before Kathy found me, acting animalistic in the sticky sun and thick mud, my mind has felt free, free of burden and worry. All that mattered in this moment was the people of the village, and Kathy. Sleeping in her tent last night.

She is even cute when she snores.

9.

3 months had passed, it felt like 2 weeks, the days rolled into one and the night and day seemed no different. Sometimes we did not sleep. Cooking and singing into the early morning. Telling the time by the sun.

Noticing the children more, the way they played and ran about, giggling and bantering with one another. I missed my own. The anxiety returned and it was a reminder of the things I missed out on.

It was time to head back to reality, I was ready to re connect, with my children. More determined than ever to do so. But I was not yet ready to leave Kathy. The connection we had, brought the raw emotion back inside me again. Passion and desire, two emotions I had not felt in years.

When I was with her, often feeling like that wild animal, yet now fragile and vulnerable at the same time without the rage and anger that I had when I first came here.

“Kathy come back with me.”

“ Home is here for me, you go. I will always be here, sort out what you need to do. You have come so far; this is something you need to do alone.”

Embracing me with her thin arms, feeling her skinny waist and soft skin, she was imperfectly perfect. Her long hair wrapped over me, she felt like the piece of me that had been missing. My Amazonian soul mate.

She hated when I called her that.

10.

Stepping of the plane there was no sticky air, the airport was busy, and everyone was rushing, however I was not.

With a bouquet of flowers in my arms I headed straight to Beckie’s pad, thank God I paid for it because I would not have known where it was otherwise.

Knocking on the door with no plan but to apologise, to listen and understand any hurt and resentment she had towards me.

As she answered, looking more hungover than ever, she still had her big brown eyes, the ones that had asked me for money many times.

“Dad? What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“I miss you Beckie, I miss being your dad, I regret it every day; not being there. I was too busy worrying about money than going to your shows and plays, I am so proud of you and want to be in your life. if you will have me. It could be too late. But I will keep trying whatever way you will have me. You can scream at me, tell me how much you hate me, but I want to talk to you, know what you’re doing. My god I just want to make sure I am invited to the big moments.”

She hugged me.

That was all I needed.

11.

I gave her the money she wanted; I did not need it. Be civil towards me that was all I asked. The love was gone but she was still the mother of my child.

Beckie started calling and we met up for lunch once a week. Turns out she’s a vegetarian, same as Kathy, who knew.

 I told about the amazon and the panic attacks. How I could not face her till I sorted myself out. How dark of a place I was in lying in that hospital bed, thinking about how much I had let her down.  

“You seem so different dad, happy. Mum even asks about you sometimes; you should come over for dinner one time at the house. Bring Kathy when she comes to visit.”

“I would love nothing more.”

Finally getting my family back.

12.

There she was waiting, just as beautiful as the day I first saw her. Her long dark hair just as glossy and alluring, a gentle kiss on the lips. Leaving me wanting more.

Another one and another.

“Alright enough of this sappy stuff, let’s get to the village you know how long it takes.”

The air hit, back to being just a human in nature. Knowing now who I am, but also realizing what I once was.