Primal Daze

In the beginning, it was energy. Energy of the sun provided enrichment to early

bacteria. Then plants, herbivores to eat the plants and carnivores to consume the herbivores. In between, humans evolved from ape-like creatures of habit, play and foraging.

“Come on Elias! My grandma walks faster than you!”

“I’m coming!” He shouted, shifting under the ungodly weight of his pack.

Elias was unaccustomed to backpacking, much less hiking in the forest. His mother had signed him up for the Boy Scouts in the hopes that it may alleviate the pain wrought by his father’s recent death. Elias had just turned thirteen several months prior; four days after his birthday, the police knocked at the door, his mother’s ensuing hysterical wail was the first of many subsequent months of grieving. His mother retreated into her sorrow, swimming deeper into her despair day by day. Elias felt that he had lost not one, but both parents in the wake of his father’s death. Elias did not like the outdoors contrary to the majority of the boys he was being forced to interact with.

Elias kept one trusted friend, Hunter, whom he had been raised with. Elias’s dad had attended college and remained close with Hunter’s father over the years. The two boys played NES together when Elias was not preoccupied by schoolwork and books. He had been homeschooled by both parents, though predominantly by his mother until he turned eleven. After began his difficult transition into public school where he became more heavily reliant on his books for company. Unlike Elias, Hunter was his father’s son. Both boys grew up on a few acres of property in the midwest. Hunter’s father was a rancher and agricultural graduate. He often took Hunter on hunting trips. Elias recalled visiting Hunter on a hot summer day. The house reeked of death as it had when Elias learned of his own father’s untimely death. Hunter’s mother had been cutting the meat, curing it while removing the hide, intestines and remaining parts for tools or useful items. In spite of the gruesome display, Hunter’s father had always displayed absolute kindness to Elias. Elias’s father struggled more with his son’s disinterest. Elias recalled the burning sensation of his father’s rope against his raw skin. Lashings like those he gave to his unruly animals, Elias was only seven at the time.

“You want to act like a young stud colt and I’ll treat you like one son.” His father’s

education never deterred his anger. “If you’re going to grow up and be a fairy, you ought to learn to take a beating.”

He lashed his rope across Elias’s back countless times until it was completely raw,

oozing blood that ran down to his ankles, staining the dirt crimson. Elias lay head first in the muck sucking in air, stifling cries of pain to spite his father.

“God you’re pathetic,” his father muttered, leaving his son in a motionless heap. Elias begged God to take his life that day. God was silent and Elias did not pray again.

Hunter had given Elias an engraved knife for his fourteenth birthday. 

“Just in case,” he said as he handed Elias a box.

“In case what?”

“You know,” Hunter patted Elias’s back. “Just to keep you safe.”

Elias thumbed the handle of the blade now as the two boys weaved through the

understory.

“Did you bring everything I told you to?” Hunter asked.

“Sure did.”

“Good.”

They edged into a clearing. The sunlight touched the tips of the pines as daylight waned.

“We’ll set up camp on the other side. There is a creek nearby.”

“I thought we were meeting the rest of the group?” Elias wondered.

“My company isn’t good enough anymore?” Hunter jested.

“No, I–”

“Relax,” Hunter slapped his shoulder, “Just pulling your leg buddy.”

They walked across the meadow, quickly reaching the treeline where Hunter began

setting up camp. He set his pack at the base of a large pine, “I’m going to collect some firewood. Why don’t you go collect some water for us?”

Elias nodded, “Where should I––” he started, turning and realizing that Hunter had

already disappeared into the forest.

“Helpful,” Elias muttered bitterly as he began sifting through his pack for the water filter and purifying tablets Hunter had advised him to bring along. After finding the filter, Elias headed east of the campsite, bushwhacking through thickets of wild rose and willow. The sun gradually inched towards the horizon, further obscuring Elias’s

ability to see. Still, he pressed on. He heard the faint gurgling of water rushing over smooth rock and eagerly trekked towards it. Reaching its edge, he cupped his bands beneath a small fall, slurping the cool freshwater like a gleeful dog. He filled the pouch he had brought and turned to return to camp, taking a few steps in the direction he had come before realizing he had made a terrible mistake.

I should have marked the trees, he realized.

Elias turned, surveying his surroundings as best he could in the dimming light. I need a fire, he thought.

He knew spanish moss was common to the area and began searching along the conifers. He soon found both moss and fungus. Elias identified the fungus as an edible morel. He managed some tinder shavings from some fallen branches, thankful for the flint stick he had hitched to his belt loop prior to their departure. He managed to spark the kindling after an insufferable hour of effort. He shivered as the fire grew. He placed the morels on the end of a stick and held them above the flames until they blackened. He ate them quickly, desperate to fill his empty stomach. He watched the embers float up towards the sky, stars glimmering, hazy behind a veil of rising smoke.

God you’re pathetic, his father’s voice echoed.

Elias paused, his eyes darting amongst the pines until they landed on his father’s rugged frame. Rage bubbled within Elias and he screamed, his wails rustling the trees. He pulled his knife from his pocket, firmly placing the blades’ edge at his jugular.

“Do it coward,” his father beckoned. “You useless pile of shit, you don’t even have basic survival skills.”

Elias pointed the blade at his father.

“You don’t have the balls,” he spat.

Elias lunged forward, swinging the blade; his father ducked away, “You pathetic bastard.

I should have sent you to slaughter with the rest of the animals.”

Elias seethed, roaring, he barreled into his father, knocking him off his feet. They

wrestled in the leaf litter, exchanging punches, his father rolled and pressed his knee against Elias’s neck. His father pulled the boy’s hair. Elias gasped for air.

“You think you can best me boy?” His father growled, “You little weasel.”

Elias writhed, begging for air. His father leaned forward, whispering his his ear, “I’ve

been waiting for this moment since the day you were born.”

Elias swung his arm, leading his blade to the lifeline in his father’s neck. Elias’s father gasped, reeling, desperately grasping at the blade. He fell at Elias’s side, he choked on blood as the color drained from his face.

“So have I,” Elias breathed, staring into the abysmal night sky. His vision blurred as his eyes clouded with tears. “So have I,” he whispered.