the way of the jungle

Kyle was dreadfully bored.  This was not all that uncommon, due mostly to the fact that there was nothing in life that could quench his insatiable need to exercise.  And not only his muscles at that, Kyle needed to exercise his mind.  He required a constant test of his problem solving abilities, his imagination, and his concentrated will.  Unfortunately for Kyle, the only thing school tested was his sanity.  He would often engage in short lived attempts to make his classes more interesting.  In Latin, he would sometimes speculate as to what the people who came up with the language were thinking as they invented new words.  This postulation was quickly dismissed by his teachers as entirely irrelevant and unimportant.  If he persisted in his so called irrelevant questions, he would be told to sit down and do his work under the threat of spending an hour or more after school with Mrs. Grey, the dean of students.  The thought of this possibility terrified Kyle.  Mrs. Grey had no sense of humor, no love of any form of self expression, and no imagination whatsoever.  Kyle suspected that he could have a more animated conversion with a potato, than with Mrs. Grey.

         And so, whenever his teachers threatened this, Kyle would go quietly back to his work, not shutting off his constantly active mind, but rather postponing the release of its creative energy.  Sometimes however, Kyle could not hope to contain his imagination, and more than one instance in history class did he persist in 'irrelevant questioning'.

         "So class, because the Portuguese government was overthrown in 1398, the age of exploration didn't begin until much later."  Mr. Martin said, in his droning monotone voice that made many students wonder if they had developed narcolepsy.

         "Yes Kyle?"

         "Were there any hidden agendas that the revolutionaries had?"

         "No Kyle, they wanted power."

         "But what if one of them had found a radical new idea and the government was censoring it, so they needed to overthrow them to get free speech?"

         "No Kyle, it was just a normal revolution."

         "But why didn't the government's armies fight against the revolutionaries?  Maybe it was a huge conspiracy, and the government had already been overthrown, but the revolutionaries didn't want the people to panic, so they didn't tell anybody until they had inspired a sense of revolution in the people."

         "No Kyle, sit down."

         "Yes sir."  Kyle said reluctantly as he sat down to study the same map of Portugal they had been studying for weeks. He knew that if he continued he would be writing "I will not make up crazy stories", over and over again after school on several blackboards, with Mrs. Grey criticizing his handwriting.  Regardless he interrupted Mr. Martin again at least four times that class, and ended up being kept after school to do just that.

         Distressed, Kyle collapsed onto his bed, letting out an exasperated sigh with just the slightest hint of happiness in it, as if in approval of the fact that the day was over.  He stared at the ceiling and ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair, reminding himself that even after junior year was finished, he would still have another year of high school to bear.  Quietly, he said to himself, "I wish life would get more interesting," and fell asleep.

         When Kyle opened his eyes, he knew he was asleep.  Trees with large ovular leaves and vines hanging about them surrounded him.  He was lying on a damp grassy moss, and as he sat up, thought to himself that this was one of the most vivid and beautiful dreams he had ever had.  Kyle got up and began to survey his surroundings.  About 75 feet in front of him, Kyle could see a tall wooden gate, adjoined by walls, put together with what looked like tree trunks.  The tops of these trunks were carved to a point, so that they resembled pencils, stood up on their erasers.  Behind this wall was a rainforest looking jungle.  Kyle scolded himself for thinking about school in the midst of a good dream, and decided that he was inside the confines of some sort of fort.  Turning around, he realized he had been right, and ambled over to the village he saw.  As he moved closer, Kyle noted that all of the buildings were made entirely out of sun dried mud.  There were about a hundred huts, a tall tower like structure made of what looked like bamboo and one large square building in the center.  To act as a door, an animal skin was draped over the entrance to each hut.  Wondering where everyone was, Kyle began opening the doors of the huts.  Inside he found mats made of plant leather and hammocks for sleeping on, and neatly stacked piles of cloths, but no people.  The entire town seemed devoid of life of any kind.  Finally he decided to check to building in the center.  As he approached it, he began to hear faint voices, and at first thought he was imagining them, but they grew louder the closer he got.  When he arrived at the door, he could hear the chatter of what sounded like a lot of people, and curiously opened the large wooden door.

         Inside was an enormous room, filled with about sixty people.  The room resembled one of those rooms you could reserve in a hotel, to have a meeting for some sort of organization.  The crowd was looking expectantly at the platform of clay in front of them that rose about two feet up, as if they were expecting someone to come out and start a meeting.  They were chattering excitedly, which evidently was the sound of the voices he had heard.  Kyle started to walk up to a person in the crowd to ask what was going on, when he tripped and fell, landing hard on the palms of his hands.  Kyle stared in awe at the abrasions and scrapes on his palms, and realized as his hands throbbed, that he was not dreaming.  Before he had the time to wonder how he got to wherever he was, a man walked out onto the platform.  The crowd became silent.  On his face were recent cuts and scratches, but also deep scars, which eerily resembled tiger claw marks.  His face seemed like a rock, chiseled neatly into the shape of a face, and one got the feeling that he was able to endure quite a bit of physical pain and punishment.  His hands were calloused and rough, and his clothing seemed to be woven out of jungle plant fiber, giving him an odd camouflaged look, as if he was some kind of soldier.  His lips formed ever so slightly into a smile as he surveyed the crowd.

         He began to speak, in a loud gravelly voice.

         "Don't ask me why you're here, or how you got here, because I don't know.  All I know is that for some reason or another, each and every one of you crazy bastards wants to be here.  Not a single person has ever come to this place and asked to go back to where they came from.

         He paused a moment and let his words sink in.

         "I can however, explain where you are.  You are currently in a place that we call 'village', simply because no one seems to know who founded it, so it never got a name and no one cares enough to give it one.  Outside of the walls that surround village is the jungle.  The jungle is the most dangerous place imaginable, let your guard down for a second and the jungle will swallow you up faster than you can blink an eye."

         Everyone was listening intently now, all of them craving excitement, and all of them hanging on his every word.

         "People who inhabit village are required to spend at least a period of three weeks in the jungle for every thirty days they go on living here.  Most of you will happily oblige, because if you didn't love the excitement that comes with being here, you wouldn't be here at all.  However, if you do decide to cut your time in the jungle short, you will notice a nasty surprise when you get back.  The food, which normally appears three times a day out of thin air, will crumble to dust whenever you touch it.  The last person who stayed in village over an hour longer than he was supposed to starved to death.  Now, with that said, your chances of survival in the jungle are not much better.  Ten percent of you will die because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, thirty percent of you will die because you were not quick enough, and finally, fifty percent of you will die from sheer stupidity."

         "What about the last ten percent?" a boy of about nineteen asked.  The man smiled, "those are the veterans.  They survive because they are fast, lucky, and most of all adaptable.  Me, and several other veterans will do our best over the next thirty days to teach you how to survive in the jungle, but the rest is up to you.  Any questions?"

         Another boy spoke up and asked, "What should we call you?"

         "Gramm," he responded.

         Kyle spoke up, asking, "When does the fun start?"

         Grinning, Gramm responded, "tomorrow at six AM, be up and ready for your first training session.  Oh and by the way, the huts are for you; they're all the same, just pick one and go to sleep, you will find everything you need inside."

         And with this he walked off the stage, and went back into the room behind the stage, from where he had emerged earlier.

         Kyle did find everything he needed.  He found several sets of cloths made from the same sort of material Gramm was wearing.  He also found a hammock, and a knife, carved from some kind of tusk or bone, which he assumed was for shaving and cutting hair.  As he drifted off into sleep, he remarked to himself that he was incredibly lucky to have been spirited away to this training camp of sorts, and pondered why the prospect of death did not frighten him.  Just before he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he decided that it was because he would rather die, than life his entire life in boredom, devoid of stimulation.

         When he awoke in the morning, Kyle was delighted to confirm that he was indeed living in some form of reality, (for before that, he could not be certain, even with the pain he had felt from stumbling).  After ascertaining the nature of the world around him, Kyle decided to explore it, (starting with a search for food), and ventured out into the village.  As he wandered around, he realized that Gramm had neglected to tell him where the food would be appearing out of thin air.  He also realized that he had woken up earlier than the others, which he noticed because of the unnatural silence and stillness in the air.  After a careful observation of the village, Kyle concluded that there were only three notable places in the entire camp.  The first was the large building where Gramm had given them his speech.  The second was the area surrounding it, which was entirely filled with huts, identical to the one in which he had just slept.  The third, which he had not noticed when he came in the previous day, was a training ground, which was made up of several obstacle courses, the tower like structure he had seen earlier, and a bit of exercise equipment.  When he found that the training ground was deserted, he made his way over to the central building.  Once inside, Kyle searched for people, and was starting to wonder if everyone had ventured into the jungle without him, when he discovered a door behind the stage.  Upon opening it, he found about ten people moseying around sluggishly in a room filled with long wooden cafeteria-like tables.  Around half of the people in the room looked like they were veterans, who had survived the jungle many times as made evident by their many scars, but the other half were as pale skinned and weak looking as Kyle, leading him to believe they were just early risers.

         Searching in vain for food, (for he was very hungry), Kyle noted that the only food in the entire place seemed to be the food the people in the building were already eating.  Timidly, he walked over to one of the veterans and asked in an awkward manner, "Excuse me, how exactly do you eat?"  The veteran looked at him as if to ask whether or not he was entirely sane, but finally responded, "Help yourself from the pot," and pointed toward an enormous clay pot that Kyle had previously ignored as simply a decoration.  "Oh ok thanks," he said, and walked to it, perplexed to find nothing in it.  After about ten seconds of pondering whether or not the veteran had just been messing with him, Kyle poked his hand into the empty pot, checking to see if the food was invisible.  To his surprise, he saw a loaf of bread, an orange, and a steak made of unknown meat, appear out of thin air.  After picking up a plate and putting the food on it, he picked up a cup, and found himself just as perplexed as before.  Not wanting to ask the veteran for help again, Kyle searched for something to drink.  Finally, he found a smaller pot, (also empty) and, feeling rather foolish, turned it upside down above his cup.  Scolding himself for being surprised at the same trick twice, Kyle was delighted to find his cup filled with water, from seemingly nowhere.  Before he made his way to a table however, he decided to try an experiment.  Looking around to make sure no one was looking, (there was no one because it was early in the morning) Kyle picked up the small pot and attempted to pour its unseen contents onto the floor.  Not a single drop fell, as if the pot had been empty and dry for a long time.  Next, Kyle put his hand into the pot, and, neither feeling nor seeing  water inside, moved his attention to the food pot.  He soon realized that he could do nothing to make food appear except putting his hand inside of the pot.  As he was poking his hand curiously in and out of the pot, futilely trying to make multiple portions of food appear on top of each other, a veteran of about twenty walked up behind him and asked, "having fun there?" startled and embarrassed, Kyle responded, "Oh, sorry, am I holding up the line?"  "No it's fine, all you noobies seem to have a fascination with the food system here," he said.  Not sure whether to be offended at being called a 'noobie', or to be grateful for the pardon, Kyle made his way to a table which was now filled with three other new arrivals.

         As it grew later, (the sun was just about up) more and more people woke up and came into the dining hall.  All of the veterans sat alone, except for Gramm, who sat with one or two others.  They all looked as battle hardened as Gramm, and like him, they were in their thirties.  Kyle's table was now filled with about twelve other boys who were all drowsily poking their food.  He didn't say anything to them because he was so interested in his surroundings, and they didn't say anything to him because they were half asleep.  Eventually, people began to become more awake, and started animated conversations about how interesting their new home was. Kyle realized that Gramm had been telling the truth, and noted that every single person at the table seemed ecstatic to be in a village surrounded by a dangerous jungle.

         After waiting for everyone else to finish their breakfast, Kyle darted out of the dining hall, dying to start his training.  Following Gramm and several other veterans, he made his way over to the training area.  Once there, the veterans divided them into groups and assigned each group to an instructor.  Kyle was put into Gramm's group, and when everyone had settled into their places, Gramm began to speak.

         "Welcome to jungle survival skills 101," he shouted.  "It's my job to teach you pathetic maggots how to not die.  Right now I'd say none of you would last a minuet in the jungle. When I'm through with you, you'll at least have a chance."

         Several boys scoffed at looked disdainfully at Gramm, angry to have been called maggots, and desperate for a chance to prove him wrong, but he continued.

         "Rule one for surviving in the jungle: you are never safe unless you are in a safe zone; not from animals not from disease, and most certainly not from your fellow man."  The boys looked stunned, and one boy asked, "What do you mean 'not from our fellow man'?"

         "What I mean is the only things that protect you from the guy next to you are either a safe zone or your own wits.  Now, continuing, a safe zone is a place in the jungle were you are allowed to stay for as long as the owner of that safe zone says you can.  There are two types of safe zones, medical safe zones, and supply safe zones.  Medical safe zones are run by a medicine man.  He can cure you of any disease you can pay to have cured.  Supply safe zones are run by a shopkeeper, who will buy anything you have to sell and sell anything you have money for.  Usually the owners of these safe zones let you stay until you are finished trading, or being healed.  I will warn you though, they do play favorites, so don't get on their bad side."

"Do we get a certain amount of money when we start?" a boy asked.  Gramm looked at him with an annoyed look in his eye and responded, "there aint no money the way your thinking of it; here we buy and sell using whatever is useful, food, clothing, or most commonly, weapons.  Any other stupid questions?"  No one responded.

"Good," he said.  "Second rule of the jungle, nothing, I repeat nothing is free.  Anything you have, you either earned or paid good money for.  Also, remember that there are no free lunches,  unless you decide to become one for the nasheek." 

         No one asked what a nasheek was, so he continued, going through eight other rules, which were more like tips and tricks than actual rules.  Kyle began to wonder why they were even called rules if no one enforced them, but soon realized that the jungle probably killed anyone who chose not to follow them.

         When Gramm was finished familiarizing the newcomers with the rules, the groups rotated, and Kyle began his next class: jungle botany.  Contrary to his expectations, he found that jungle botany was infinitely more interesting than regular botany, for it quickly became apparent that the plants here were different than the ones he had known.  Much like Gramm, the veteran instructing them started off with a speech after telling them his name was Nicholas.

         "Many of you may think otherwise, but I'm not lying when I say that knowing your plants will keep you alive in the jungle more than anything else.  It is absolutely vital to know one plant from the other, because if you go into the jungle with no clue what's what, you're either going to poison yourself or starve.  If you do know the plants however, you won't have to go to the medicine man if you get sick, you'll never be hungry, and you'll have quite a few weapons that no one else knows about.  Most of the veterans won't tell many stories about their time in the jungle, but I'll be honest, I know nearly every plant in that jungle and that's taken me pretty far.  I've killed animals with plants, cured myself from sickness more times than I can count, eaten like a king, and sold a hell of a lot of food and herbs in the supply zone.  Pay attention in this class, and you won't regret it."

         Some newcomers were still cynical, but most, including Kyle, found a new interest in plants.  It was however, difficult to learn the different types when no one had ever given names to any of them.  To complicate things further, there was nothing to write on except a log, onto which Nicholas began carving the shapes of different plants and describing their effects.

         After Kyle and his group had learned about five different plants with varying effects when consumed or touched, the groups rotated again, and Kyle walked with the others to his next class.  When he was done waiting for all the members of the group to arrive, the instructor, who was about thirty, ordered them to form a line in front of him.  Without introducing himself or announcing what class they were in, he shouted for them all to get into push up position.  Not a single one of the new arrivals had been good at pushups as the instructor soon found out, so, picking up a straight stick about half his height, he began to walk down the line correcting them.  As he passed each one, the man told them exactly what needed fixing about their push up position, and proceeded to smack each one harshly with the stick in the area that needed improvement.  On most this left a dark blue bruise, and the most unlucky people were those who had their rears too high up in the air.

         "Now," he shouted, taking a couple steps back to face the entire group, all of whom were still in a pushup position.  "Everyone touch your noses to the ground and come back up until your arms are locked twenty five times."  He stopped speaking and stared at the group for a couple of seconds.  No one moved.  "That means now!"  Immediately everyone sprung into action, doing pushups at an incredible rate, until around the fourth one, at which point all except a couple of people had slowed to a very gradual speed.  The instructor walked up and down the line, shouting at each person.  "Keep your back straight!  Put your hands under your shoulders!  Get your butt out of the air!"  when most of newcomers had stopped doing pushups, which was around fifteen, the instructor told them to take a ten second break and then do however many pushups they still needed to get to twenty five.  Everyone did just that except three people, who were slightly overweight.  When they refused to keep going and collapsed onto the ground, the instructor offered each one a hand to get on their feet, and then pulled them out of the line and caned each one without mercy on their backs as many times as the number of pushups they had refused to do.

         "Okay," he said, surveying the tired and miserable group as if he were looking for the best product in a supermarket.  "I'm sure a lot of you are wondering if this is how it's going to be every time you come to this class." He paused for a couple seconds, to make sure he had everyone's attention.  "Well it is, so get used to it!  If you haven't already guessed, this is combat training.  Gramm will teach you how to survive, I'll teach you how to make sure the other guy doesn't."  From the moment they heard the word combat, the group perked up, paid closer attention, and all began to get a gleam in their eyes, anticipating some kind of fight.  The instructor seemed to notice this and said, as if attempting to burst their bubbles of optimism: "for the next month, I need you babies to stop your crying, and start acting like men.  I noticed a lot of you struggling, and a lot of you showing weakness, so I'll warn you, show me proof that you are a weak link, or complain even a little, and I will meet you with intense retribution.  Remember, combat is pain!  Know pain, and you will know combat."

         The rest of the class was spent running from one end of the village to another, and by the time they broke for lunch, the only thing Kyle felt the instructor had taught him was that his name was Mike.  After lunch, which nourished Kyle and the others incredibly despite the fact that many of them held back their appetites for fear that more running was to come, all of the groups went back to their classes.

         The next, and final class that Kyle went to was jungle zoology.  This was taught by a laid back instructor named Phil, who explained to them that the jungle was not filled with normal animals.

"Well then, what type of animals is it filled with?" asked one impatient trainee.

"Monsters." He responded.  This made several newcomers emit suppressed snickers and giggles.  Looking kind of annoyed, Phil, who was still leaning calmly against a rock, answered these laughs with: "call them whatever you want, but when they eat you alive, you won't be laughing.  Some of the group still thought he was exaggerating or joking, but a couple including Kyle, realized from his face that he was dead serious.

"Now," he said, "let's start with the marrow eater.  These things are especially dangerous because they hunt during the day."  He drew a picture on one rock, with another rock that appeared to be a form of chalk.  The picture looked like a big bulky hunchback with large bumpy spikes running down its back.  It also had to dots on its oversized head, which Phil explained were its nostrils.  "Where are its eyes?"  One boy asked.  Phil responded matter-of-factly that it has no eyes, and finds its way around by an acute sense of smell.  After he was done telling the group that it is usually identifiable by its dull shade of blue or purple, several boys remarked that it can't possibly be real, and that Phil must be making the whole thing up.  Phil told them that if they wanted to leave, they could feel free, but they should know that that condemns them to the awful fate of being eaten alive by any one of the horrible creatures in the jungle.  After several seconds of thought, they decided that they would not take that chance, and sat down again.

"Where was I?" Phil asked.

"The marrow eater," one of the trainees responded.

"Oh yes, the marrow eater gets its name from its love of bone marrow.  If it kills you, it won't eat your meat, but it will break your bones open and suck the marrow out.  No matter how many you kill, there are always a lot of these guys, because most creatures don't eat bones, so when it can't get kills, it'll scavenge.  Now let's move on to the Gore chomper..."

         When about an hour and a half was past, the class ended, and Phil told the group that they and the other groups would all have siesta until dinner.  Most trainees hung around random parts of the village and talked about the events of the day with each other, and a few went to their huts to make their arrangements more comfortable, but something else caught Kyle's attention.  He had noticed it when he had first arrived, but never given it much thought until then.  What he was so interested in was the large tower, made of some kind of bamboo looking wood.  The tower was obviously not meant to be inhabited, because it was just a frame, with no floors walls or ceilings, but it was certainly not useless.  An assorted mix of about ten veterans and trainees were climbing from beam to beam on the tower.  As Kyle stared up at it, he remarked to himself that it was breathtakingly large and tall.  It must have reached a total of four hundred feet at its highest, and stretched about a hundred feet from one end to another.  Kyle wondered for a second if anyone ever fell to their death, but realized quickly that if one was to fall, they would hit about fifty bars before impacting on the ground.  Taking a few steps back, Kyle stared at it in awe.  It was like one of the jungle gyms he had played with at playgrounds as a kid, but on a much larger scale.  When he was finished looking at it in wonder, Kyle ran up to it and began to climb slowly towards the top.  He realized that it was not at all symmetrical, and on the inside, the bars were tied to each other almost randomly, which Kyle assumed must be to simulate the trees of the jungle.  After ascending about fifty feet, he came back down, tired and out of breath.  It was then that he had a sudden realization of why he was so slow.  He realized that his upper body strength was lacking, and became determined to change that.  Walking up to one of the bars that was a little above his height, he began to do pull ups, and, stopping at around seven he went to dinner.

         When he finished eating dinner, a simple but tasty meal of bread and meat,  Kyle fell into bed around the time it got dark, and fell right to sleep.  Possibly due to the fact that he had gone to bed early the previous night, Kyle awoke early the next morning when no one seemed to be up.  Entering the dining hall, Kyle counted three persons, all of whom were trainees, eating at separate tables, and decided to see what was going on outside.  Walking somewhat sluggishly out of the building, he saw several people by the training area, and decided to see who they were and what they were doing.  When he made his way over to them, he noted that all of them were veterans, two of whom were Mike and Gramm.  He studied them and the other veterans for about three minutes, and then started to mimic their actions.  One veteran was ascending the bamboo tower as fast as he could, pausing a moment, and then racing back to the bottom.  When he finished this routine he would ascend halfway, and race horizontally from one end to another and back.  Another veteran was alternating between clap pushups, and sit ups, using a large section of tree trunk to add extra weight.  A third was running up and down the steepest hill in the village, and Kyle wondered to himself how long he had been running, for his cloths were drenched in sweat, but he didn't look the least bit tired. 

         So, ignoring the veterans who were sparring and training with spears, Kyle imitated all of the exercises previously listed, at a much slower rate, as soon as he was finished doing pull ups.  As he was about to go to breakfast, he noticed the veteran who had been doing pushups was stretching his muscles.  Audaciously, Kyle inquired as to what stretching does, and if it trains muscle.  The veteran turned around coolly and commanded him simply to try and touch his back.  Cautiously, Kyle reached walked around behind the veteran and poked his hand at his back as fast as he could.  Without even turning his head, the man, who was about twenty five, caught Kyle's hand and twisted it into a wrist lock.  This event took place in a split second, and Kyle was awed at how one moment it looked like he had the upper hand, and the next, this man had him at his mercy.  He explained to Kyle that stretching increases flexibility, which can prove to be a significant advantage in combat.  So, with a new respect for stretching, Kyle learned how to improve the flexibility of all the main muscle clusters in his body, and finally went to breakfast.

         At breakfast, Kyle sat with a group of trainees who were somewhat less talkative and excitable than the day before, most likely because they were tired and exhausted.  This however did not mean they were silent.

         "Why are you all sweaty?" one boy asked.

         "I woke up early, decided to do some exercise,"  Kyle retorted.

         "You know Mike's probably gonna' work us just as hard today if not worse than yesterday right?"

         "Yeah."

         "Oh I see, the tough guy act," the boy said, and then chuckled softly, which confused Kyle who had thought he was being modest.  "My name is Jimmy, what's yours?"

         "Kyle,"  he said, as they shook hands halfheartedly.

         He spent the rest of breakfast talking comfortably with Jimmy, until they broke into groups again, and he gave his full attention to Gramm.  In fact, everyone was paying close attention to Gramm, who decided that that day was a good one to teach spear crafting.  This excited every trainee greatly,  and they were all delighted to find that not only were they learning to make spears, there were knives involved.  Gramm piled ten white handmade knives next to a pile of about thirty strait hard branches that had each been snapped to about five feet long.  It was not long after Kyle made the realization that the knives were made of bone that someone asked, "those aren't human bones are they?"

"Of course not," Gramm responded gruffly, "human bones are too weak, these are boneshifter bones."

The look on the boy's face went swiftly from concerned, to assured, and then suddenly back to concerned, when he realized what Gramm had insinuated.

"Now listen up,"  said Gramm, "what you're going to do is take the knife, and shave strips of wood off of each side of the stick, so that you get a spear that's equally shaven at its point, like a pencil."  With that, he handed out the sticks and the knives, and everyone got started, passing the knives around so that everyone would eventually get a turn with one of them.  Kyle found that the wood was hard, and he soon got blisters on his hands from whittling it.  In addition, most boys whittled it too thin at the end, and ended up with a weak point, that broke easily.  Kyle himself managed to find a nice balance between sharp and flimsy, but was dismayed to find that when he poked his finger with the tip, it drew no blood whatsoever, and in fact, didn't even hurt.  Still wondering how one could possibly be injured with such a weapon that seemed to either break, or be too blunt, Kyle passed his knife to the boy next to him and tried to recite all the plants and animals he had learned the previous day.  When they rotated groups, everyone was still thinking about spear making, which aggravated Nicholas so much, that he angrily ordered them all to thrust their new spears into the earth and not touch them until the class concluded.  Once he was finished helping a few of the weaker trainees to get their spears embedded far enough in the ground to remain standing, he began the class by teaching everyone about an herb that he said would paralyze you if it got in your blood stream.

         "Can we put that on our spears?" someone asked.

         "No, it's for putting on the end of a blow dart."

         "Will we learn to use blow darts?"

         "No, now as I was saying-"

         "But why can't we put it on spears?"

         "Because with spears, you go for the kill, they're not made to be gentle with, so if you're doing it right, your enemy should be dead before the poison has time to work.  Now will you just focus for a second?  Right now we're learning about poison."  Kyle heard him mutter something that sounded like an expletive and then the word, ADHD, and then continue.  After he was finished describing a few other poisons, Nicholas appeased the spear happy crowd by discussing the different types of wood that can be found in the jungle, including the one they had constructed spears from.  After the class was over, Kyle's group moved to the jungle combat class, which no one was looking forward to.  All of this changed however, when Mike announced that they would be learning how to use the spears they had just made.  Before anyone did anything, he told the group to only use the blunt side when doing training exercises, to prevent any "premature deaths".  After this brief safety instruction, Mike led the group to a row of training dummies, that were really just tall planks of wood, with another plank across each one, to resemble arms.  Soon the group was learning all about each type of spear thrust, and each boy was assigned a dummy, and told to pierce their spear through it.  Everyone began hitting the dummies as hard as they could with the spears, but no one was having any luck whatsoever.  Mike meanwhile, was walking back and forth critiquing them all, and everyone was snickering at the person to their right, until Mike got to them, and they realized that they were just as incompetent.

         "Come on!  Put your body into it!  Is that the best you can do?  Your technique is good, the only problem is that you're a wimp!"

         Mike reminded Kyle of a drill sergeant he had seen in a war movie, and visualized him wearing an army uniform.  While Kyle was imagining this, one of the boys managed to embed his spear in the dummy, so Mike came over to acknowledge this achievement.

         "What's your name son?"

         "Bill," he said proudly.

         "What were my instructions Bill?"

         "To stab the spear through the dummy."

         "So what part of through did you not understand!?"

         "Sorry, I'll try harder."

         "Halfway will get you killed boy.  You can't spear an animal halfway, or it'll go into a frenzy and shred you to pieces.  Now do fifteen pushups!"

         "Yes sir... uh Mike,"  said Bill, who began doing pushups.

         "As for the rest of you," Mike said, turning around to face the others, "since Bill here was only half of a weakling, he does fifteen; everybody else drop and give me thirty, right now!"

         With much groaning, and inaudible complaining, the group painstakingly did thirty pushups, and, as was a habit of Mike's, the ones who did not complete theirs were punished.  They stayed and practiced spear thrusts for another half hour until they broke for lunch, during which Kyle's group discussed excitedly all that had happened throughout the day.  When lunch ended, which it seemed to Kyle to do very quickly, mainly because he was getting used to the group, and because he was exhausted,  they filed out to jungle zoology with Phil.  When they all arrived, Phil taught them about three jungle animals who seemed particularly vicious, and then paused dramatically to say, "Everyone listen up, because this next one is the most important.  The creature I'm about to describe will make the last three sound like garden pests."  This got everyone's attention, for they were all eager to hear about whatever could possibly be worse than an animal that shoots out tendrils to rip ones limbs off.

         "This animal is far worse than anything in the jungle, if you see it, or hear it, run, and pray it loses interest.  No one has ever killed one, and few have survived who have ever seen or engaged one.  This thing eats anything it wants to, but nothing eats it.  It's the king of the jungle, and we call it the nasheek."

         "What does it look like?"  Someone asked.  Phil drew a picture on the stone that would have made a five year old's drawings look like Picasso.

         "It's a cat?"

         "no, it looks more like a dog."

         "Oh!  I thought it was a horse."

         "It's not a cat!"  said Phil angrily.

         "than what is it?" asked Kyle.

         "well, it's like a jaguar.  It has spots, and we know there are more than one, because when I saw it, it was blue, but others have seen an orange one."

         "so what's so scary and terrible about a cat?"

         "It's not a cat, and if you ever fought one you would know exactly what's so terrible about it.  This thing has claws that rip through tree trunks like wet paper.  It has perfect night vision, and it usually kills by crushing it's prey's skull in one bite.  The reason no one has ever killed one is because it's faster than the blink of an eye, and its fur is damn near impenetrable."

         "Impenetrable fur?  You're joking right?"  someone said mockingly.

         "I'm not joking, people have tried stabbing it with knives, spears, and poison darts, but everything just breaks.  The nasheek is the baddest animal in this godforsaken jungle, and if it decides to eat you, you had better hope you're fast, because speed, agility and luck are the only reasons I survived it's attack."

         With that, the class ended, leaving them all to think about the nasheek, and what Phil had said about it.  During siesta, Kyle practiced all different ways to move about on the tower, from side to side, to diagonally, until finally tiring out, and taking a ten minute break.  After his break, Kyle did pull ups, finding he was slightly stronger than the day before, and then did suicide sprints up and down the hill.  When he was finished stretching, Kyle was thoroughly worn out.  He ate dinner and collapsed into bed, only to begin his routine again the next morning.

         After his morning workout, and his breakfast, Kyle went to be taught by Gramm, who announced that the safest place to be in the jungle (besides a safe zone) was on the ground.  He said that predators hunt mostly in the trees, and they always have the advantage there.  To survive, he proclaimed, one must keep his feet on the ground where they belong.  This disappointed Kyle, who had been getting better at ascending and descending the tower, and he wondered if his time would be better spent doing something else.  Gramm also gave them helpful hints about engaging both animals and people in combat, and by the time the class was through, everyone except Kyle was bored.  He had finally found where he belonged.  For once in his live, Kyle had the kind of mental and physical stimulation he required.  Everything he learned made him thirst for more knowledge.  Every time he grew stronger, it inspired him to grow even more strong. Kyle was happy.

         This happiness continued when he got to jungle combat, because that was the day Mike had selected for sparring.  Each boy was paired with another, and a circle was drawn in the dirt around them.  They were both given the spears they had carved the day before, and Mike began running through how to disarm, parry and feint.  disarming involved knocking the spear from the opponents hand, parrying was when one deflected their opponent's thrust with their spear, and feinting was pretending to attack somewhere, only to attack somewhere else.  After running through those moves by way of training drills, Mike told them to use the unsharpened end and begin sparring.  It was clear from the look in his eye that Mike thought they were all beyond terrible, and several times he sighed, and shouted at someone a way they could improve.

         Kyle however, only had a moment to observe Mike, because he soon became preoccupied in his first combat ordeal.  His opponent, a slightly taller, slightly larger boy named Victor, was ruthlessly trying to batter Kyle with the blunt end of his spear.  Kyle found that although he was larger, he certainly wasn't as skilled or as fast.  This he proved, by sidestepping most of Victor's attacks, and jabbing him swiftly in the back.  At the end of two minutes, which felt to the group like two hours, Mike yelled 'stop', and everyone ceased fighting.  Kyle had sustained two bruises, one on the shoulder, and one on the arm, but Victor had taken about seven or eight blows, not counting the blow to his dignity.  When Kyle offered him a handshake, saying  'no hard feelings', Victor took it begrudgingly, and faked a smile through his anger.

         Having tasted combat for the first time, Kyle thirsted for more.  All throughout jungle zoology he was thinking about his fight earlier, and how to improve his spear fighting abilities.  As soon as class was over and siesta began, Kyle challenged Jimmy to a sparring match.  Jimmy accepted gladly, and, after deciding on the ring size, they began.  The fight was about even, with both boys sustaining bruises, and both getting hits in.  it seemed that Jimmy was as addicted to spear fighting as Kyle, and at the end of the fight,  they were even closer friends than before.  This became a routine, with Kyle and Jimmy practicing and sparring together every day after zoology.  Because of their friendly competition, Kyle started observing the veterans when they practiced with spears, in an attempt to learn new moves and get ahead of his new rival.  Consequently, Kyle became the most practiced and versatile spear fighter in the whole group, with Jimmy coming in close second.

         Every day, things seemed to get better for Kyle.  He wondered if the jungle would be a buzz kill, waking him from the glorious high he received from training and learning, and thrusting him into a world of pain.  Trying not to think about it, he decided to enjoy the present, and worry about the future when it got to him.  After all, there was plenty to enjoy.  Every day in Gramm's survival class he would learn an interesting new skill.  One day it was how to get meat from an animal, another day it was how to make cloths from plants and slain beasts.  He also loved the zoology course, for he enjoyed hearing about all of the seemingly mythical creatures, and was both scared and excited to meet them.  His favorite class however became jungle combat.  Kyle loved everything about it, from the adrenaline rush, to how alive it made him feel.  In addition, the class got infinitely better when Mike taught them hand to hand combat.  Beginning with boxing moves, like jab, cross and uppercut, they gradually worked their way through many different styles of fighting. 

         One day, when they all knew and had drilled all the boxing techniques.  Mike announced that they were still not ready for hand to hand sparring.  When they heatedly inquired why, he told them that they couldn't move like fighters, and needed to be taught.  He paired people up and assigned each pair a sparring ring drawn in the dirt, as if they were about to fight.  Instead of telling them to start fighting, he told one person from each group to raise their hand.  Kyle, who was paired with Jimmy, boldly raised his hand.  Mike then said that the person with their hand up could not throw any type of move, and could not step out of the ring.  If they did either, they would be forced to do thirty pushups, and suffer five lashings with a stick.  This method, however harsh, succeeded in giving the necessary incentive, because throughout the whole exercise only two people stepped out.  Next he told them that the other person could throw any boxing move,  and that they had two minutes to pummel their opponent until it was their turn.  Jimmy would have gone easy on him, but he had learned from all his fights with Kyle that Kyle wanted the full experience, even if that meant a merciless pounding.  The exercise did in fact serve its purpose, because after three days of this training, the boys were experts at ducking, dodging and weaving to avoid enemy attacks.

         Three weeks passed, and Kyle had trained harder than he had in his entire life.  He was now able to scale the tower with ease, going in any direction, and could move from one place to another as agilely and skillfully as a monkey.  He could now do twenty five pull ups, and forty five pushups.  He had learned from the veterans how to tone every muscle in his body, and he seemed only to get stronger with each passing day.  As for combat, he had learned ways to break more than half of the bones of a human opponent without expending a large amount of energy.  He had learned chokeholds, wrestling locks, and about fifty different effective strikes.  He had fought everyone in his group with spears, and after about the fourth opponent he never sustained another bruise from anyone but Jimmy.  Kyle was a legend.  Everyone knew his name, including most of the veterans, who began to wonder who he was after seeing him learn a new way to train from each one of them.  Gramm especially took interest in his training career, and offered to teach him outside of class.  Kyle was happy to learn from the best and accepted.  He was however, still trying to figure out whether Mike loved or hated him for being so good at fighting.  Usually when you know someone awhile, you begin to see beyond your first impression of them.  This did not seem to apply to Kyle's teachers.  Phil was still his laid back, calm self, and acted like he was teaching about the dangers of dry skin, even though he was talking about a monster with hundreds of teeth that shred prey to bits in mere seconds.  Sometimes his happy-go-lucky attitude was almost enough to make the group laugh, but only when he described the most gruesome killers in his pleasant cheerful tone.  Nicholas was still very much like a hawk.  He was calm, like Phil, but in a way that made it seem like he was anticipating the right time to strike.  He would always demand attention from the group when learning about plant properties, and eventually they obliged, and gave it to him undivided, every day.  Gramm on the other hand, was a mystery.  He seemed to be the most battle hardened of anyone in the village, and rarely showed emotion.  The other veterans paid him a kind of solemn respect, as if he was some kind of leader.  Kyle was excited to start lessons with him, for he had already learned quite a bit from watching his training routine early in the morning, and could only imagine how much more he could learn with private lessons.

         Lastly, Mike had seemed to be exactly the same over all three weeks.  He still kept up his drill sergeant attitude, harshly punishing those who refused to work hard.  However questionable such tactics were, they certainly did the job, for the trainees were so eager to escape punishment, that they would work extra hard.  Much like Gramm, Mike showed little emotion, save an occasional smile, that he usually flashed when he found something amusing or impressive.  He didn't seem to play favorites, and talked little to the trainees, but could be seen talking with Gramm at meals, and one got the impression that they were close friends.  As for the trainees, they all talked about how harsh he had been earlier as soon as they got to dinner.  Most of them hated him for being so rough on them, but some, like Kyle, realized that it was just to get them ready for the incredible ordeal that is the jungle.