by Shay Savage
I stand the tree up near the fire. Ehd narrows his eyes and looks at it closely, but when he reaches out to touch it, I push his hand away.
“No, Ehd. You aren’t burning this one.”
He huffs out his nose and reaches for the tree again.
“No!” I grab his hand and pull it away from the tree. Ehd ducks his head, looking contrite and slightly frightened. I stand on my toes to press the end of my cold nose to his warm one. He relaxes, glances at the tree again, and then goes back to skinning rabbits.
I stand back and take a better look at it. It’s small, leaning a bit to one side, and a few of the branches broke off when I pulled it through the cave opening, but it still serves its purpose. In fact, it looks like the same tree Charlie Brown had during the Peanuts Christmas Special.
“If I had a blue blanket to wrap around the base, we could create a Christmas miracle!” I laugh and grab one of the extra furs at the back of the cave to wrap around the tree’s base. I stand back and stare at it for a moment, but no miracle occurs.
Ehd comes up to me and looks at the tree and then at me and then at the tree again. He closes one eye and tilts his head. He lets out a soft grunt before ignoring the tree completely and wrapping his arms around my waist.
I give his hands a squeeze before moving away and looking back at the tree. As I turn, it falls over, and Ehd grunts at it.
“If you would just help me with this, it would be a lot easier.”
Ehd doesn’t help. In fact, from the look on his face, he believes I have completely lost my mind. I eventually manage to get the small tree to stand up by removing the wood base and using rocks instead.
“Now, we need to decorate it!”
I look around the cave, but I really have no idea what to put on the tree as decorations. I head back outside, hoping to find some inspiration. Ehd follows close behind. He doesn’t like it when I go outside by myself, so we stick close to the cave.
I collect a few cones and some acorn caps, hoping to find some use for them. I feel silly adding pinecones to a pine tree for decoration, but it works, and Ehd doesn’t try to take them away from me. I also pick up a handful of polished stones, and we head back inside.
Now for the hard part.
In the back of the cave, I crouch in front of a mostly cleaned deer carcass and pull strands of tendon from the bones. Back at the base of the tree, I pull at the strands of tendon, separating them into long strings. Using the sliver of bone, I attempt to poke little holes in the acorn caps, but they just end up breaking. I go through about forty of them, only managing to get a proper hole in two before I give up.
“What else would be good to string on the tree? I could probably make better holes in bark, but how pretty is that? Berries would look the nicest, but we’ve eaten all we’ve gathered.”
“Maybe shells will work.”
When we head to the lake for water, I go to the water’s edge and break through the ice to collect the shells of the tiny freshwater clams. When we return to the cave, I have much better luck stringing them though a lot of them still break.
“My kingdom for a bottle of Elmer’s!” I laugh at my joke, and Ehd tilts his head to one side, looking at me quizzically. “I’m not crazy. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
Ehd huffs and goes back to the fire.
With the tree as good as it’s going to get, I go to the back of the cave and collect my Christmas gift to Ehd. I had wrapped it in a piece of fur and tied it together with sinew the day before. I place it carefully at the base of the tree.
“Now we’re all set!”
Ehd looks over with narrowed eyes, tired of my noises.
“Why can’t you seem to communicate with me?” I close one eye and stare at Ehd with the other for a moment. “You can make sounds. You’ve got a grasp on the whole name thing. You aren’t stupid; I know that. But no sign language? No pictures? Why?”
I remember from various health classes that there is a language center in the left hemisphere of the brain. I wonder if Ehd suffered some head injury that caused damage to it.
“Come here, Ehd.”
Ehd reacts to his name and shifts closer to me. I run my hand over the long hair on the left side of his head. He makes a low growling sound as he smiles and closes his eyes. He leans his head against my shoulder, and I feel his warm breath on my neck as he runs his nose over my skin.
I don’t feel any bumps or divots in his skull.
“Maybe you were just born like this. Does that even make you Homo sapiens? You aren’t a Neanderthal; I know that. Your head isn’t that kind of shape, and your body looks like any other boy I’ve ever seen. Not that I really ever saw any other boys. Not like I’ve seen you.”
Ehd reaches over and runs his hand from my waist to my hip.
“Doesn’t take much, does it?” I snicker as Ehd begins to push the furs off my body.
Ehd guides me to my hands and knees, and I ignore the rough feeling of the grass mat below me as he positions himself between my legs and gently enters me. I moan as he strokes slowly in and out, leaning over to touch his chest to my back.
I close my eyes and just let myself feel his rhythmic movements until pressure builds up, and I cry out as he reaches for my clitoris and rubs gently. I tense and explode, feeling him fill me shortly afterward.
Ehd sighs and pulls out. He sits back on the ground and pulls me into his lap, smothering me with kisses until I giggle and push him away.
“No time for that,” I tell him. I kiss his nose and jump up to retrieve my fur clothing. “Cuddling can wait until later. It’s time for presents, Ehd!”
Taking his hand, I lead him over to the tree.
“This is for you,” I say with a smile and hold the fur-wrapped cup out to Ehd. He takes it tentatively from my hands. “Open it!”
Ehd turns the package over in his hands and sniffs at it. I laugh.
“Open it, silly!”
He glances at me and tilts his head to one side. Slowly, he takes the piece of fur off the cup and turns the clay over in his hands. He runs a finger over the letters.
“That’s your name,” I tell him. “E-H-D. That spells Ehd. At least, that’s how I’d spell it. I thought about writing just E-D, but it just doesn’t quite fit you.”
Ehd stares at my mouth as I speak.
“Ehd,” I say again.
“Beh.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls my head to his. He runs his nose over mine and inhales deeply.
I point at the letters on the side of the cup again, and repeat his name. Ehd continues to glance at me with a look in his eyes that says he thinks I have totally lost my mind. I just smile back at him.
“It’s Christmas, Ehd!” I say. “Well, at least I think it’s close to Christmas. There’s snow, and that’s good enough for me! It’s time to celebrate!”
Ehd leans over and wraps his arm around my waist. He holds the cup with his other hand, running his thumb over the letters. A thought occurs to me.
“You know, I guess it can’t really be Christmas anyway. I don’t think we’re even close to the archeological periods of ancient civilizations or anything like that at this point. I mean, is anyone working on the pyramids yet? I’m thinking not.”
The idea weighs heavily on me. I move to sit in front of the fire and pick up a stick to poke at the coals. Ehd crawls over beside me, tentatively reaching to my cheek and stroking my face. He wipes away a tear I didn’t know was there.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Sometimes this is just all a little too overwhelming.”
Ehd moves closer, pressing his thigh up against mine. He lays his head on my shoulder and strokes my neck with the tip of his nose. I close my eyes and swallow against the lump lodged in my throat. I wonder what my parents are doing right now. Did they decorate the tree without me? Did they bother to go Christmas shopping? Are there presents under the tree with my name on them? Or have they given up o
n me completely?
None of that has even happened yet.
But it will.
Someday, there will be a Christmas at my childhood home, and I’m not going to be there. Many, many Christmases. I knew it from the day Ehd broke the first piece of clay pottery I made. I saw the pieces, recognized the jagged edges of the cracked clay from my mother’s archeological dig, and knew my fate.
There were two skeletons found at the sight. One of them was Ehd, and the other one was me.
Is me.
Will be me.
There is nothing I can do to change that.
“Make the best of it,” I whisper as tears begin to stream down my face.
Ehd scrunches up his face and shifts closer to me. He reaches out and touches my cheek, creating a smear of salty tears over my cheekbone. He grunts softly and nuzzles at my neck. When I don’t respond, he begins to run his hands over my arms and legs, looking for the source of some perceived injury.
“I’m not hurt.” I sniff as I grab his hand and hold it up against my face. “I’m just a little melancholy. Christmas is a time for family, and I don’t have one anymore.”
I fight against the sobs that want to escape from the core of my soul.
It’s not a simple Christmas without a loved one. It’s not like when my aunt and uncle got divorced, and he was no longer a part of holiday gatherings. It’s not like when my older cousin got married, and she only attended Christmas morning brunch every other year, opting to spend the opposite years with her wife’s family.
All of my family is far away in the most unattainable way, and I’m never going to see any of them ever again.
I can’t stop the sobs this time. Even as Ehd pulls me to his chest and runs his hand over my hair, I can’t quiet myself. It’s too much. Too deep. Too insane to fathom.
There is no recourse. No solution.
Ehd holds me tighter and eventually leads me over to the pile of furs where we sleep. He coaxes me into the bed and holds me tightly against his body until exhaustion takes its toll, and I sleep, dreaming of Christmases past.
Chapter 7
Despite my childhood dependence on anything and everything technology related, I haven’t really missed having a phone, internet, or digitally available music. Though I had once been addicted to checking my phone every few minutes, I no longer give it a second thought. I don’t have any use for such things here, and all of our time is spent on more basic human needs.
Until now.
At home, I had a phone app that kept track of my monthly cycles. It would conveniently remind me to make sure I had all the necessary feminine products a few days before my period started, and I never had to think much about it. Here, I’d started using a piece of bark to help me count the days until my next period. Every day, I’d take a flint knife and make another mark. My periods have always been regular, and by the time I’d reached the thirtieth mark on the bark, my period would inevitably start. On that day, I would start all over with a new piece of bark, a stick, or whatever else was handy.
I stare at the marking stick in my hand as my heart tries to crawl up into my throat. Nine distinct lines are etched in the surface. During the snowstorm, it was so dark outside and we had slept so much that I had no idea when a new day would start, and I hadn’t marked every day. Once the storm subsided, I’d been focused on gathering what food could be found, replenishing water stock, and decorating a Christmas tree, and I hadn’t even thought about my daily ritual. I haven’t marked the stick, and now I have no idea when I’ll be ovulating or when my period should start.
How many times have we had sex since the last time I’d marked the piece of bark? Several, I know for sure. Sex is the best way to keep warm, and Ehd is very willing and able to perform multiple times a day. How many days has it been? Five? A week? More? I have no idea. All the days have flowed together.
How could I have been so stupid? Keeping track of my cycle is the only way I have any hope of keeping myself from getting pregnant in a world with no doctors, no hospitals, and not even a midwife to help me out.
“Fucking idiot!” I scream and throw the piece of wood into the fire. Tears stream down my face, and Ehd jumps up, rushing to be by my side.
“Beh!” He grabs my hand and checks me out all over, probably looking for injuries.
“I’m not hurt!” I try to push his hand away, but he wraps his arms around me and holds me to his chest. We slump to the ground together, and he holds me in his lap, rocking me gently as I rest my forehead on his shoulder.
What am I going to do? Deny Ehd his favorite activity until my period starts? What if it’s too late, and I’m already pregnant? We spend every minute of every day gathering food, wood, and other necessities just to keep the two of us alive. How would we possibly have time to raise a baby?
I swallow hard, recalling my mother’s story of my own birth via caesarean. I had been transverse—lying sideways inside of her—and she always said she and I would have both died if it weren’t for the doctors.
What if that happens to me? What if I get pregnant, and the baby won’t come out? Who would help? Ehd? Though Ehd is very smart and loving, I seriously doubt he knows what to do during a baby’s birth. I don’t even know if he’s aware that sex leads to babies.
In all the time I’ve been with Ehd, the only other human being I’ve seen was my attacker at the lake. Ehd obviously came from somewhere and must have had parents at some point in his life, but how long has he been alone? Does he even know about pregnancy and babies? Is that instinctual?
If I am pregnant, I might be completely alone in the whole endeavor.
*****
It was inevitable.
I kneel beside our sleeping furs, fighting the feeling in my stomach as much as I am fighting the knowledge of why I feel so sick.
The lump in my throat travels downward, lodging in my stomach and making me retch. For so long, I’d tried to be careful. I’d counted every day between periods just to make sure this wouldn’t happen. I knew there was still a little risk, so I’d even tried to keep moderately risky days to oral though Ehd was not always pleased with the idea.
Then I lost track. During the winter storms, I’d forgotten to mark my stick. I thought I might be late and counted days in my head. Weeks have passed since that time, and now I know for certain how late my period is. I’m also pretty sure it’s not going to start now.
What am I going to do?
I have no access to any kind of medical care, and I know how many things could go wrong. What if I can’t get the proper nutrition, and the baby is born with a defect of some sort? Would Ehd want to get rid of it if it weren’t perfect, leave it out in the wild for some ravenous animal to find it and drag it away?
Another wave of nausea comes over me.
This can’t be happening. None of this can be happening.
I close my eyes tightly, willing myself to wake up from this horrible nightmare, but it doesn’t work. As my stomach churns again, I cover my hand with my mouth and rush out of the cave. I hear Ehd come up behind me, grunting his concerns as he holds onto my hair, and I vomit into the ravine.
As soon as my stomach is empty, I feel better. Ehd picks me up, cradling me in his arms as he returns me to the cave. He sits near the fire and holds me on his lap until I feel better.
The next day, it happens all over again. Ehd refuses to leave my side as I continue to get sick every morning. He makes me lie down close to the fire as he cooks our meals and tends to the flames. He checks on me constantly, and I wonder if he will drive me mad.
“Ehd?” I call out to him, and he startles slightly, the sound of his name waking him up.
“Luffs!” he replies, and the sound makes me smile.
I take his hand and place it on top of my stomach.
“I’m pregnant, Ehd,” I tell him. “We’re going to have a baby. I have no idea if you even know about such things, and I’m rather terrified by the who
le idea, but there is nothing I can do at this point.”
As if he actually understands my words, Ehd’s eyes go wide. He stares at his hand on my belly in awe. A moment later, he looks up at me, says my name, and breaks out into a glorious smile. He rises up on his knees and lays me down on the grass mat near the fire. Then he takes my belly in both hands and runs his nose over my stomach.
Tears fill my eyes.
Somehow, he knows. He understands this basic, primal state of being. He knows what is to come, and he is positively thrilled.
I, however, am positively terrified, but Ehd’s gleeful reaction warms my heart despite my dread.
Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe everything will be all right.
Chapter 8
“Da, da, da, da, da, da!” Lee holds out his chubby fists until Ehd picks him up.
“That’s right!” I say as I stroke the baby’s cheek, warmed by the late summer sun. “That’s your daddy!”
Lee continues to repeat the sound, and Ehd narrows his eyes at his son and then at me. I try to contain a smile. I know Ehd doesn’t care for the sound of Lee’s babble or my talking, but I’m thrilled that our son seems to be verbal. Sheila, or “Lah,” as Ehd calls her, hadn’t been old enough to start making sounds before she came down with that fever, and I was always worried our children would be as silent as my caveman.
I love Ehd, but I need someone else to talk to me. Before Lee came along, I had begun to forget some words from lack of use. I was afraid I might lose my own ability to communicate verbally if I didn’t keep yakking constantly, but yakking to yourself has its own issues. I’m afraid I’ll eventually lose my mind.
Lee squints as Ehd holds him up in the bright sunlight, giggling when Ehd spins around with him.
Thinking about Lah brings a tear to my eye. I still think about her all the time though it has been a long, long time since my father appeared in the field and took her away for treatment. Ehd had been devastated, and it killed me that I had no way to make him understand.