Dating : The End of the Road

They had faced the storm for a week straight. Dark, heady clouds poured their anger on the family of three; mom, dad, and a 3-year-old girl. They had known cold — and were told by their ancestors of even worse weather in decades past — but this was almost unbearable. The bone-chilling kind, ruthless in its consistency. Everyone’s toes — everything below the knee, actually — burned as if set on fire.

This was a land of wild forests and predators with a taste for human meat. Enormous tigers with knife-like teeth and a roar that could be heard for miles. Giant, woolly elephants seemingly without fear. In the summer, it was almost agreeable — but the winters could kill, and they often did. For this family, the only way forward was West. Away from the sand. Away from the heavy rains brought forth by that large inner ocean — and its accompanying shore. What they used to call home.

West toward the unknown. They hoped for a place without constrictors that squeezed babies in their cradles, bears that chased and mauled — expected, premature death.

This family mostly conversed through gestures and grunts. The man was quite old, nearing 35 years — his body marked with varied scars, missing two fingers. The woman was in her early 20s. She had once looked young and beautiful, but no more. Too many traumatic memories, too many children lost to the wind.

They had stuck together through tough times, but nothing like this. Wet and thirsty, starving cold, sleeping just a couple hours per night — before the fire went out. Their only hope was to make a big kill: an animal filled with meat, fat, and blood. In fact, they had tracked just such a beast, also heading West. These elephants were intelligent animals; you could always trust them to find a watering hole. It was expected to put up quite a fight, but the family had no choice. Mom and dad had to kill it … or else.

After camping out in the mountains, they slowly descended toward a large basin. The air tasted different … they could hear a different sort of bird as well. Following the sunset, they felt it in their bones that this was the way forward. They were on the right path. The family picked up the pace, dad taking the child in his arms. If he squinted just right, we could see the massive beast in the horizon.

There were four more days like this. It stopped raining, finally. The sun, now out in full force, provided them with an energy boost. Were they imagining that the ground shook as the elephant walked the earth? Or was it something else entirely? This was a strange land after all, with flora and fauna of its own. They kept at it, feeding on small animals about the same size as rats and the occasional snake — an unavoidable risk when starving to death.

The family woke up with a jolt. A loud noise filled the air … similar to an out-of-tune musical instrument. It was pleading for its life. Screaming for help. This animal, clearly, was alone. Despite its immense size and power, it couldn’t find a way to set itself free. The family followed the sound, the little girl intuitively knowing that the tide was about to turn. She smiled for the first time in weeks.

They took careful, ever anxious steps toward the sound. Almost hidden within tall trees, the vast expanse of black goo hissed and bubbled as if it were alive. They had never seen anything like it. The goo went beyond the trees, where it was shallow and seemingly harmless. If you kept walking, oblivious to what lies beneath, it would grab ahold of you and not let go. It would first surround you with warm heat then smother you as you breathed in the fumes.

No wonder the elephant cried in despair. It knew its life was at an end. Intelligent creatures, yes. They understood death. Every minute of it. But for the human family, this was a new lease on life. Their bones and skin were lightweight. They could count on each other, arms linked, as the lance pierced the side of the elephant. While an earthen bowl collected the blood. Mercy killing and sheer survival intertwined.

They would no longer starve that year. They would keep going toward the large ocean in the West. Tens of thousands of years later, in a cave facing the sea, a message inscribed on the wall named that clearing a sacred place — written in black goo.

“Holy Wood.”