Tribal Ephemera.
Though we started our trek on virtually a whim, Larry and I had been clambering an unnamed trail deep in the vast wilderness for roughly two weeks now. To say the hike was a scenic one would be an understatement; on the first day, our path wound through misty waterfalls and across cliff faces; by day six, it was as if we were on a different continent altogether. The looming Douglas Firs had dispersed, the sword ferns had retreated, whle deep crevasses in the Earth gently healed themselves, inviting petite acai and gumwood trees to inhabit the low, golden hills of this: our new land. The occasional breeze was sweet and warm and lulling.
Ahead of me, Larry halted, his arm raised in a fist.
"I think we should wait for some clouds to form to catch our bearings," he said.
"That sounds good to me," I said.
I began to unpack. There was little left of my rations. Larry had been out since morning, though neither of us worried much. What we found here would be ours.
"Do you know about the ancient civilization out here?" he said.
I looked around, but there was nothing there.
"Not particularly," I said.
"Somewhere nearby is a cove where the sunlight never shines, or so I've heard. There is some kind of village aside the cove. Huts are made from moss and river rocks, with cold water running through the foundations. The natives are said communicate with their hands, eyes, and feet."
"What do you think they eat? For food?"
"It's tough to say. They fear agriculture," he said.
"Of course," I said.
"They fear the future."
For a brief moment I imagined some secret ruins in the foliage. My eyes squinted to see. A totem seemed to appear and vanish, though I couldn't be sure it was actual.
Later, a macaw landed on my shoulder. I fed it some granola, and it flew away. I wondered how old it was.
"We could probably conquer them," Larry said.
"Huh?"
"I said we should conquer them, the villagers."
"What if they know we're coming? I'd like to see my family again, Larry. You're scaring me a little."
"They'll have no idea, these tribal dolts. I'll approach them from the south, you come around, later, from the east. We'll flank them in a pincer strike. There is nothing to worry about."
"We don't even know where to find this village, let alone whether or not it exists. It could be anywhere."
Slowly, Larry touched the ground, and delicately tasted his fingers. He pointed to our left.
"It's that way," he said. "Don't ask why, something just calls to me. Like a voice."
"I don't like this, Larry."
"I don't give a shit what you like."
A tiger snarled behind us. I was suddenly and inexplicably terrified, not only of Larry, but also my inability to stop him.
"Suppose we come across a shaman or something? What if my teeth get turned into grapes? I don't want my teeth turned into grapes, Larry," I said.
"Shut your fucking flap and wrap these vines around your body. And here, take this machete," he said.
I wasn't aware we brought a machete. Where had he...?
"What if there is no village?" I asked faintly.
"Then, my friend, we hunt for the Madonna, Mother of hope, tears of blood," he said.
I nodded.
"We attack at twilight," he said.
He disappeared into a cropping of black orchids. Across the sun flew a great egret of silver, blue and scarlet. I just kept standing there, looking around.