Dear Diary, 10,000 B.C.
by Franklin Crawford
Dear Diary, 10,000 B.C.,
somewhere near Lascaux (translated from the original): Standing watch at the mouth of the cave of my ancestors, stone tools, charcoal and finger paint pots at my feet, shivering in this tattered megafauna pelt, the fire long expired and still too dark for me to finish mural outline of these two huge, flightless predator birds that made a crunchy brunch of three blood kin, Roc, Ka n Pupu – my mom.
It was majorly traumatic. Gigormous sobs with beaks like monstrous hinged arrowheads come busting out of the high grasses – the sickening sound of skulls getting cracked open like Dodo eggs.
We all ran, I dunno, I dunno. A long time.
Lucky find, this grotto. After we set fire to a sleeping bear and clubbed some huge rats to death, we pretty much had the place to ourselves and plenty to eat.
I sure do miss Mom and brothers.
Dad’s gone now since I dunno, I dunno, bunch of hot and cold times ago. We were all walking along on some nasty turf and he just fell through the surface into a pit. I mean, the ground just opened up and swallowed him.
There were wolves stalking us so we had to keep walking, and we heard pops moaning and groaning down there but no way could we help him. I doubt very much he survived. He was such a good guy, a dedicated first responder, not into big game hunting (who wants to fuck with a mammoth, even a baby one? was his question whenever we ran into a herd of them); he was smart to go after the harmless but edible creatures of medium size and tasty, very able with both spear and stone axe, great storyteller. Lotta nights we were paralyzed with fear, especially if we couldn’t get a fire going and he calmed us down with tales told in a gutteral language we barely understood but he was a very good mime so we always got the narrative thread – usually something about hunting or fucking or making fire. I think about that time cousin Gah was dragged off into the woods by a pack of jackals. Something growly like jackals anyway even if they sounded like a bunch of laughing hyenas and Gah screaming bloody murder. He was only a little one. Me and my brothers got up to fetch him and the Da grabbed us by our skins and threw us down, warning us with so many gestures and loud noises that if such things would come right into camp and grab one of us, what was gonna stop them from making a happy family meal of the whole tribe?
I feel like I failed him today. We were robbing a platypus nest – the kits are yummy – and those giant f--king birds came from out of nowhere, just ran us down and that was that for Mom and my two bro. Only reason I’m alive is my incredible cat-like reflexes and an uncanny knack for finding hiding places, like this cave. There are only seven of us now, my two sisters, who are my significant others till I can find one of those Cro-Magnon women – pretty scarce these days – my little brother, and two second cousins half-breeds, males, Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal on Dad’s side of the tribe.
The Cros, twins, are peaceful but kinda dumb and prefer roots and vegetables to meats. Ever now you gotta kick their ass to get them pay attention on a hunt and gather.
My back teeth are killing me – had to bang one of them to bits with a spearhead other day. Stank like old meat. And this damn dark. Gotta keep alert, tho. Wanna finish my drawings after sun-up.
Shh! – what the hell was that? Hope that barbecued bear didn’t have family nearby. Man, I can’t wait till this whole epoch is over and done with. Some times I wonder why we ever stood up on two feet and walked off the Savannah. Gotta go back inside. Later.
Caffein
