The Second Intelligent Species: The Cyclical Earth

by Dale Langlois

  I did a double take to make sure who I was looking at. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t change what was, but still couldn’t believe it. Everyone knew about Beth’s pregnancy before I did. I guess she wanted to practice or get advice about how to tell me. I had been left out of the loop.

  All the women in the group were ecstatic about the news. Beth and Sarah were more sociable towards each other. The women already started coming up with names for the baby. Maria’s suggestions all had some Christian connotations, like George, after St. George, slayer of the dragon. Sarah’s suggestions all had some philosophical meaning to them, like Phoenix, for a boy, or Anastasia, for a girl.

  I sat on the bank, watching the children playing on the beach, as I tried to digest the news.

  Jorge came over and sat down next to me. “They really are a lot of fun, Nick. You never had kids of your own, did you?”

  I rested my forearms on my knees. “No. Beth’s kids were the only ones I’ve ever been around.”

  “You seem to be doing a good job with him.” Jorge pointed to Marcos wading along the river’s edge.

  “I haven’t done anything special. He’s the one who hangs around me.”

  We watched him digging.

  Marcos made sure we never ran out of roots. He waded in the rivers and swamps so much, his feet were permanently wrinkled. Even though we didn’t always have meat, he always provided some sort of root, once I showed him how to recognize them. He yelled to me. “Hey, Nick, come look at these tracks!”

  I stood up and walked along the bank.

  “You’ll be a good dad,” Jorge said.

  Looking back all I could see was his smile. Tara and Eve climbed on his back. I watched awhile. Jorge sure made being around kids look easy.

  “Nick, really. These tracks are different than the others,” Marcos yelled.

  “Okay, I’m coming.” I followed the bank up to the boy.

  Holding up the torch so I could see, he pointed down. “See? These are big. Looks like it’s dragging a tail like muskrats do, but way bigger.”

  I bent down to get a closer look when I heard a splash. Thinking one of the little ones had fallen in, I looked back at Jorge. A dark shadow lunged for one of the children.

  Jorge pushed the toddler away and put his hands out to protect it. A five-foot alligator snapped onto both his arms. It started to twist and roll. For every two spins the beast made, Jorge only made one.

  Everyone screamed. Pete ran down the bank and grabbed the monster by the head, trying to pry its mouth open. I ran and jumped on its back to stop the death roll. I felt claws tear into my side. Jorge’s arms could be heard breaking above his screams. Sand filled my eyes. Pete and I were able to stop the alligator from spinning, but it wouldn’t release its grip.

  Marcos began stabbing at it with his atlatl, but the small wooden shaft was no match for the tough natural armor.

  “Its eyes!” I yelled.

  He jabbed at the eyes several times missing every attempt. Finally one poke hit its mark as did the next three, and the reptile let go. It turned, throwing both Pete and me on the sand. As it entered the water Pete landed one punch, then it was gone.

  Jorge lay unconscious.

  Maria was on him before anyone. “Get me something for bandages. Quick!”

  I could see his arms were disjointed but didn’t seem to be bleeding as bad as I thought they would be. I sat down to rest. My heart pounded hard enough to cause pain. Wrestling an alligator required far more physical effort than one could imagine. Catching my breath seemed nearly impossible. The longer I sat, the more the pain increased. I didn’t tell Beth because she was busy with Jorge. Trying to stand, I stumbled. Weakness overcame me. I lay down and fell asleep.

  “Wake up. Get away from this river,” Beth said. As she helped me up she asked, “Are you okay?”

  I was still experiencing chest pain, but wouldn’t tell her. “Yeah. How’s he doing?”

  “Both shoulders are dislocated, and his radius and ulna are broken in each arm. They were compound fractures. We stopped the bleeding, but I’m worried about infection. We splinted him up, but I don’t know how much damage is done inside.”

  My pains remained. I couldn’t help but think about my insides too.

  In the week following the attack Jorge used up many of the painkillers. His arms were both mangled and hung down at his side uselessly. Tendons and ligaments had been torn. In the past, doctors could have repaired the damage. The girls did all they could just to save his life.

  The first time the sun appeared, the nurses looked at his wounds. In this different light the true colors came out. Both arms were starting to show signs of gangrene.

  “We’re going to have to amputate both your arms below the shoulder, Jorge.” Maria told him. “We can help with painkillers, but I’m not sure we can knock you out.”

  “Why don’t you give me a few more and leave me behind? I’m not going to be any help to the rest of you. I’m not even going to be able to help you with Emanuel.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Beth said. “You can still watch the kids. The rest of us can help out with the chores.”

  “I won’t even be able to feed myself. I won’t even be able to hug Emanuel!” Jorge started crying. “I can’t even cover my face!” His right arm flailed not quite reaching his neck, the bandaged hand dangling uncontrollably. His left arm moved no more.

  Maria hugged him and shielded his face from the rest of while he sobbed.

  Sarah motioned to Beth and me to follow her away from the two. As we walked she spoke in a low tone. “We can take both at the same time, but I can’t guarantee he will live, or for how long after.”

  “Can’t you take one now, and then the other after he recovers from the first?” I asked. “I would think he might bleed to death doing two amputations at the same time.”

  “We can control the bleeding safely enough,” Sarah said, “but he’s already feverish and the infection will kill him if we don’t do something now.”

  “Have you ever done one?” Beth asked Sarah. “I never have. In these conditions I think we might kill him.”

  “No, but he’ll die if we don’t. I studied about Civil War amputations in the field. There were cases about people who amputated their own arms. It can be done. I think we make sure he eats and hydrates himself well before we do it. He should be okay for another couple more days.”

  “What will you need from me? Pete and I will start looking for canned food again.”

  “Look for paper clips too. We can use them for clamps. Also get any cloth you can. We’re going to need a lot of it.” Sarah looked at Beth. “Can you think of any other way?”

  Beth stood thinking a while then said with a shaky voice, “We’re going to need a saw.”

  I got up early to build a good bed of coals. Several pots of water needed to be brought to a rolling boil for instrument sterilization. Cloth needed to be washed and then dried for bandages. My plan was to have it all done before anyone got up, but I tired easily and needed to rest more than usual. Pains accompanied the breathlessness. Today’s work was too important to be stopped by a little chest pain.

  Beth’s morning round of vomiting woke Jorge, who I’m sure didn’t sleep much anyway.

  “Getting everything ready, huh?” He sat next to me as his arms dangled.

  “Wanna make sure we do this quick,” I said.

  “I’m scared, Nick. I don’t think I can take it. I’m not as tough as you and Pete.”

  “You’ll do fine. You do know Pete said he’s going to change your nickname from George to Stumpy. Just thought you should know.” I looked at him to see his reaction.

  He looked at both of his arms and said, “You know I used to throw coal at him and try to hit him on the helmet. I missed most of the time, but even when I hit him right in the face, he never got mad. He’d just say, ‘Is that the best you can do?’ then go right back to work. He’s a good friend.” His smile appeared. “I woul
d love to be able to throw something at him now.”

  Sarah dropped four knives into the boiling water. She looked into the other pots to see their progress. “This one needs to be hotter.” She inspected the cloth on the drying rack. “These need to be drier.” Then she walked over to Beth and helped her recover from her morning’s purging.

  When the cloth was dry and the water boiled, all three nurses came over to Jorge and said it was time. They gave him five eighty-milligram Oxycotins. And explained what he would experience once they started. He listened bravely but trembled violently.

  Marcos kept the children away from the arena.

  A bed of beaver pelts served as the operating table. Torches surrounded the area. A boiling pot of water held the butcher knives and paper clips.

  Jorge lay down shirtless on the furs.

  Pete knelt down next to him. “Don’t get a hard on George, or I will jump off! So help me God!” With that said, he straddled his friend. Then he got serious. “I want you to know Gorge: I’m only doing this for you. I have been to hell and back with you more than once. I’m at your side this time. Now get tough little buddy! I love you.” He gritted his teeth.

  Jorge gritted his back, but it still looked like a forced smile.

  Pete reached down to hold his arms.

  Jorge closed his eyes.

  Beth placed her hand on the inside of Jorge’s inner arm to apply pressure to his artery.

  “Take a big breath. This will be done before you know it.” Sarah began to cut a circle in his right elbow.

  Jorge’s whole body convulsed as he screamed. Pete threw his whole weight on his friend’s arms, pinning him to the bed.

  Maria kissed and caressed his head while she cried. “You’re doing this for Emanuel and me. Remember he needs you. I love you, I love you. Jesus, watch over my husband for the sake of his child. Take away his pain and lessen his fever. Help Sarah and Beth…”

  Jorge’s screams were replaced by moaning. He passed out from the pain.

  Beth said nothing. Her fingers tightened on her patient’s pressure point.

  Sarah peeled skin back and held it there with paper clips. Muscle was cut to reveal white tendons and ligaments. Muscle was cut from the bone but left in place. With three inches of bone showing above the elbow Sarah picked up the hacksaw.

  Both Pete and I held his arm as she sawed. Beth controlled the bleeding while Maria wept.

  Chapter 41

  New Duties for Jorge

  Maria and Sarah laid down their arm full of roots, enough for one meal.

  “I don’t know how you did this day after day. My hands are more wrinkled than if I had been doing dishes for a month.” Sarah showed her hands to Jorge. “Have the kids been any trouble?”

  “No.” The children minded Jorge without being scolded. Somehow they knew when he spoke they were to behave. “Maria I have to pee.” He’d healed well from the operation, but his spirit was damaged still.

  The two of them walked off away from view and earshot.

  “Stupid ass! Here I go showing an armless man my wrinkled hands,” Sarah said hitting herself in the head as punishment.

  Pete whispered to me, “We’ve got to find him something else to do besides babysitting. A man needs to feel useful. I could build some sort of cart he could tow to carry supplies. He could hook it to his shoulders.”

  “Can you build one?” My body needed a break. Both Beth and I had needed to take more rest stops in the last few months.

  “I’ll look around for bike parts.” Pete was the engineer of the group.

  “Where’s Marcos?” I asked.

  “He’s down at the culvert setting his crayfish trap. He said he was going to wait there for something to come out. Do you want me to go check on him?”

  “No,” I said. “He knows what he’s doing. Let him hunt.”

  Maria and Jorge returned.

  Beth motioned to the nurses. “Can I talk to you?” Most of their private talks concerned her pregnancy. She had started to show. They huddled together. Both Sarah and Maria were ever observant of Beth’s progress. She was to stay at camp and lie still and was no longer expected to be involved in any chores whatsoever. They estimated her weight to be at a dangerously low level and worried about the baby.

  I was worried about both. I felt tremendous guilt that I hadn’t been able to provide enough for everyone, but most of all for her. Now my unborn child was in jeopardy. This was the first time I felt a real sense of impending doom. It was either that or a symptom of my chest pains, which never really seemed to go totally away.

  “Look what I got.” Marcos strode into sight and held up an opossum and a can. “I got about fifty snails too.” Marcos loved to gather them. It took hundreds of them to make a difference, but Marcos felt good doing his part. I was his best customer. How could I resist them? When others were dining on roots, I was eating escargot, shells and all. Nobody else would eat them.

  He held up his big catch. “I found its den and waited and waited. Then I heard a scratching sound. I got ready, and when I saw its head, I waited some more, till I saw the whole body. Then I stabbed it in the chest. Man, it tried to bite me and hissed and growled.” He shook the rat looking thing in the air and smiled wide.

  Weeks went by until Pete found everything he needed to construct the cart—a cross between a rickshaw and a cart used in harness racing. Eventually plans evolved into a finished product. Seatbelts tucked away underneath seats of rusting cars were salvaged for adjustable harnesses. When it was introduced to Jorge, his smile came back for the first time since his operation.

  “Load it up, I can carry it.” He bounced up and down adjusting the harness. “Make a spot for Manny too. It’s not heavy at all.”

  “Beth can hold him.” Sarah started taking things off the cart. “She’ll be riding back here until she has the baby.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m doing something. I can carry you all,” Jorge boasted.

  Selfishly, I hated the idea of carrying my share. I grew winded easily and would need frequent rests, but now I wouldn’t be able to blame it on Beth.

  Nobody argued, and we moved on, looking in every cellar that we came upon. We were back to eating from cans again, or at least Beth was. She needed different vitamins, and fats that we weren’t getting from the wild game. Sarah had been adamant about extra rations being given to Beth.

  “Give the beans to Beth this time Nick, she needs the fat.” Apparently Beth had told Sarah about the beans. I didn’t even think she knew.

  Our diet consisted of fifty percent canned foods and fifty percent wild game. Muskrats which had been so plentiful in the past seemed uncatchable. Beavers didn’t seem to exist in this area. Few large animals were being caught lately.

  One day while Maria was feeding Manny, Jorge started jumping around like he was on fire.

  “Stop it! I’m going to fall off,” Beth yelled. “What to hell are you doing?”

  From the light of the torch I watched him jumping up and down from one foot to another.

  I could see a snake slither under Jorge’s feet. At first I thought he was just trying to get away from it, but he followed it as it came closer to the children. He spun the cart around, a hundred and eighty degrees, nearly knocking Beth off. The snake lunged at his legs, but his foot caught it short and Jorge finished it off with his other foot. Bones crunched below the workboot’s sole. Even after the head had been crushed, the tail still vibrated.

  “There. Now we have something to eat tonight. Marcos, come see what I got. Look, it has a rattle too. That would make a great addition to your necklace.” His smile was back.

  “The next time you decide to River Dance, let me know first, okay?” Beth seemed unimpressed. “Fuck the snake! Help me up on this friggin’ thing.”

  I shifted her weight up towards Jorge. “Is that too heavy?”

  He jumped to adjust the straps shaking his head in the negative. No teeth showing.

  Beth exten
ded one leg, and then put both knees up to her stomach. A few seconds later she would straighten the other leg, and raise both arms over her head. She rolled my way and sternly said, “Just walk with me and hold my hand…Please.”

  We walked like that for the remaining months of her pregnancy.

  Jorge let me say, “Giddy up,” but only once.

  Chapter 42

  Building Jorge’s

  Confidence

  Marcos, the newly designated scout, ran faster, farther and longer than anyone else in the group. He marked the road with stones for us to follow. When he found a good place to camp, he’d gather wood and look for food. The rest of us would catch up. Sometimes he’d have food, most times not. Occasionally cans of food or headless turtles were left in the middle of the road instead of stone markers.

  “As much as I hate riding on this thing, I do like the idea of holding your hand while we walk. Do you know we haven’t held hands since before we were married? Why did we stop?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Just kind of grew out of it I guess.”

  “You did. I didn’t.” Beth squeezed harder on my hand. “You know I really love you.”

  “I love you too, babe.”

  “Do you know what I love most about you?” she asked.

  “My good looks?” To tell the truth, I hadn’t looked at myself in a mirror since this started. I wasn’t even sure what I looked like anymore. I rubbed my beard and tried to imagine.

  “Not even close,” she joked. “I’ve always felt safe with you. Even when everything shit to bed, you saved me. You saved me the day I met you. You changed my life. Now I’m having your baby. I couldn’t be prouder to be your wife. I want to have a family again, Nick. I miss my babies.” She started to cry. “I don’t want to lose this one too. I can’t take another loss.” She continued to sob.

  Sarah brought Tara and Eve up to walk along Beth’s other side.

  Beth let go of my hand to hold Tara’s.

  “Mommy, ride?” Tara asked.