The Man

THE MAN





Aliasha lay beside the Man. His hands clasped around her waist, his head buried in her hair. She lay quiet her mind restless. She did not know this Man really. Except that he was the reason she had been able to survive the last year. His ability to provide safe water, track food, and to avoid the poisoned lands had kept her alive at least. She knew that somehow her mother had made him promise to keep her safe. And she had found the right Man to make that vow.

The each day blended one into another now. Every day since the invasion had been a desperate fight for survival until they came to this valley. Now every day had become routine. In the morning the Man would wake before the sun, slowly slide his body from hers as though trying not to wake her; wrap her tightly in the one wool blanket they possessed as though she was a still a small child. He would then stoke the fire it’s dim light and warmth filled the small cave in which they had taken refuge. He would then wander outside, still naked, to relieve himself.

She had been in the habit of watching him leave the muscles in his legs the shape of his buttocks how they blended into the muscles on his back fascinated her in was she only vaguely beginning to understand. Mother would know how to explain it to me. She thought mournfully.

The Man returned she closed her eyes so that he would not see that she was awake. She heard him enter and approach. She heard the scraping of clothing as he pulled it down from the line where it hung and pulled the fabric across his skin.

“Wake!” he spoke gruffly as his hand gently rocked her body. She opened her eyes and gazed into his face. His face seemed older than perhaps it should. Older than when they first met. He had been clean shaven and almost young looking. An American she believed; was told by her mother. He was one of a dozen soldiers who had gone to ground when NATO fell and the US failed stranding hundreds of soldiers on foreign soil. Then the real wars began and they fled she was hardly 16 when her father left to defend her country nearly a year later her mother and her fled with other refugees to the country side; almost not soon enough.

The City she had grown up in was now little more than a radioactive wasteland. No one knew who dropped the bomb that removed any hope of returning home; of life returning to normal, it didn’t matter. His eyes were hard but kind and this he did every morning. Stare into hers for several moments till she focused clearly. He smiled and stood erect. Without saying a word he grabbed the bow he had scavenged from an abandoned home some time ago, and a brown knapsack that was as much patches as it was original material. Without so much as a backward glance he strode out into the dim early light silently.

He usually returned before dark sometimes before noon now that the snow had melted and summer had finally arrived. He would bring with him water and food; usually some small animal or bird, and some edible greens and tubers if he found them. When he returned home she would help him skin and clean what ever he had managed to kill. The Pelt would be cured and stretched. Soon they would have new clothes made of rabbits and other small animal hides. They both had new moccasins made from a boar he had killed in winter. And two cow hides cover the entrance to the cave keeping out the wind also killed months ago.

Aliasha sat in the growing light her mind having nothing better to do than think. Her thoughts drifted to her mother. And home. To the time before the world went mad. To a time before life was reduced to sleeping preparing food eating and preparing for the next day. The months of winter had nearly killed her and the Man. They would have starved if he had not killed the two cows that day.

He had come back to the cave excited grabbed her and taken her about a mile to the site of the kill. They spent all day cleaning the cows cutting them up in the snow. The Man was insistent that they work quickly “dogs” he kept saying. “Smell” then point to his nose.

The meat was wrapped in plastic bags he had scavenged from a nearby house and placed on an old toboggan sled they had acquired months ago. The contents of the meat and the skin were placed on the sled after the sun was failing.

They had just found the cave three weeks prior and were so close to starvation that the task of pulling the heavily laden sled took them till first light. The Man took the meat and buried it in the snow all but a large piece which he said “fire…cook” then handed it to me.

Aliasha cooked the meat while the Man slept. He woke ate and they both slept. In the night she awoke his body on fire. For a week she nursed him until he became better. She had feared he would die. The buried cow meat had started to run out when the snows melted. I would be dead if my mother had not found him, she thought to herself. The sun was now streaming light into the cave. She began her daily task of sewing pelts together with the heavy cord the Man had brought home one day. She wanted to visit a town but he refused. “Danger… Death” were the words he used. She missed people. But at the same time she hated them too. People destroyed her city. People killed her father, raped her mother and tried to hurt her too. People were selfish and greedy. They took from the weak killed for fun; and then there was the Man.

He was everything they were not, the other refugees. Every night he insisted that they remove the little clothing they had to let them air out, then sleep naked beneath the one blanket they shared. Yet his hands never left her waist. He never attempted to kiss or caress her body. She had seen the rough ways in which other men had treated her mother before the other refugees went their own way or died off. She learned quickly that this was how her mother gained them food and for a time kept her body from the hands of lecherous men.

When she met the Man her mother was ill and dying. There had been an argument in the camp. It had been about the bomb and the stream. Some men insisted that the water was safe. The Man insisted that it was not. One man suggested that they make her drink some water and see if it killed her. The arguing continued. A man grabbed her by her hair intent on forcing her to drink. A few steps from the stream the Man wrested her from her assailant and carried her away. For two days she was certain she would die. She was certain the Man who only knew a few words of her language would climb on top of her like she had seen them do to her mother. She imagined what that might be like. It would hurt she was certain. She would be disgusted and sick. She had seen men pee with those things and she didn’t want such a thing inside her body.

She would survive, she thought to herself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all her mother allowed them to do it to her everyday sometimes more than once and she survived. Perhaps if she let men do this to her then she could get food for herself and her mother. And her mother would no longer have to give her body to such men.

Mother never spoke to her about what the men did and when Aliasha asked; her mother hung her head in shame and cried. Mother will not have to give her body to men anymore she resolved on the second day they were away. Tomorrow she thought I will offer my body to the Man and in exchange he will take me home. I will offer it to him so he will care and feed us.

The Man had found water from a spring for them to drink and had gleaned and they had gleaned an abandoned field for food. They hid while they watched soldiers and Tanks move down a road. The Man pointed at the hair falling out of the soldier’s heads. When they passed he spoke “dying…” the sadness in his voice overwhelmed her and she began to cry calling for her mother. He held her for the first time all afternoon till the sun went down.

When she awoke the Man was asleep holding her. I should offer myself to him now she thought. I should make my bargain with him and get it over with. She slid away from him undressed and lay on her back the way she had seen her mother do before other men. She then called for the Man. When he came she spoke “Take me to my mother give us food and you can have me as often as you want.”

She knew he understood her language; he just could not speak it very well. The Man stared at her for a moment then removed his jacket and covered her with it. “No” he shook his head. Her heart sank. He motioned for her to dress and she did. When she was done he lay down to sleep and she did the same the night was cold as winter was starting. She slid up next to his body and slept he held her gently as he had held her for the previous two nights. She understood then that the Man would never hurt her; would always protect her.

The next day they returned to the small refuge camp. It was quiet, too quiet. The last time she heard the camp this quiet was a month ago when the ground shook and the sky lit up. Aircraft screamed over head for hours flying both directions. A man came down from the lookout on a hill and said the bomb had been dropped on their city. His eyes were glassy and empty. He had seen the blast. He had seen millions die at once and was blind now.

The Camp was quiet again. She found her mother lying in their tent. Her hair was falling out. They were too thirsty, her mother told her, they drank the water. Aliasha told her mother of the Man of how he had rescued her from the others and how she had offered herself and he had refused her. Her mother smiled for the last time and called the Man in. She spoke to him in his language and made him place his hand on a bible as he spoke. “Go…Go with him.” Her mother spoke softly; her last breath as she died.

For some time Aliasha sat there looking at the still face of her mother. The whole world was dying. Everything she had ever known was dead. Everything except the Man. He returned and opened the tent he had packed two bags and tossed her one. “Tanks” he spoke in his own language pointing toward the city. She understood and followed…

Tears streamed down her face as these memories surfaced. She had not cried for her mother. She had not cried for anything until today. She had stopped working. Her head was hung; her eyes stared blankly at the unfinished leather garment still in her hands. A shadow covered her, she did not move. Hands, hard and gentle, grasped hers. Her sobs became more intense. Arms encircled her, leatherwork falling to the ground. A beard brushed her forehead as lips gently kissed. Her body convulsed as months of emotion found release. Her body was lifted and cradled. Strong arms held her tightly to a chest. The body that held her rocked slowly and a sound she’d never heard before; the sound of the Man singing softly to her.