Helix and the Arrival Read online

  Korg is helped up the steps of the rock by Tor. Speel stands beside the rock below Korg, with his hands clasped in front of him, looking very serious. His lone eye scans the crowd.

  Nearly everyone from Rockfall’s twenty or so caves is here now. Eighty or ninety sets of eyes look up at Korg, wondering what’s so important that he needs to say it from the speaking rock.

  ‘Folk of Rockfall,’ he says, with his croaky, dry voice. ‘Soon will be an exciting day for our people as we mark a special time in the lives of two of our younger clan members.’

  Just as I thought: Sherwin and Saleeka are going to have their engagement proclaimed. I look behind me and see Mum and Dad, each with an arm around Sherwin, waiting in anticipation for Korg to announce the marriage-to-be of their first son.

  Korg goes on. ‘As you are all aware, one of our bravest hunters is unwell. Ugthorn was wounded some days ago by a sabre-tooth. Ug, his son, will no doubt go on to become a caveman and wield the same spear and heavy club that his father did. But, for now, his father lies gravely ill, and with poor prospects of recovering.’

  I glance over to Ug and his family. There is suffering in every part of them: the blankness of their stares at Korg, the slump of their shoulders, the way the Uglets won’t leave their mother’s side.

  ‘With this in mind,’ says Korg, ‘I have decided to move the day of Ug’s Arrival forward from the traditional date, which is the summer solstice, to tomorrow. This will allow him to shine in the presence of his father and attain full caveman rights before Ugthorn passes to the heavens.’

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Korg is pretty much predicting Ugthorn’s death.

  Ug is looking down at the ground. His face is frozen like stone. I wonder how he feels about having to complete his Arrival at such short notice. I don’t think he’d be nervous. If anyone is destined to be a fully fledged caveman, it’s Ug.

  Korg is still talking. ‘And as we are shifting the day of Ug’s Arrival forward, young Helix, who is also coming of age, will be tested as well –’

  What?

  Korg’s mentioning details now, but I’m only catching threads. ‘Starting tomorrow … venture into the woods … return with your offering … final spoken test …’

  Dad has an arm on my shoulder and is shaking me. ‘Did you hear that, son? Your Arrival has come early. Are you excited?’

  Excited? No. Melting into a caveboy puddle of fear and dread? Yes.

  Tomorrow, everyone in Rockfall will be clapping and cheering as I head off into the woods with my too-small spear, looking to kill and haul back a beast of some kind. I never thought I’d say it, but at this moment in time I’d be glad for a hungry claw-gripped fork-tongued vulture to swoop down from above, clasp me in its giant talons and fly away back to its nest. As long as it finished me off quickly (as opposed to nibbling away at me for days or, even worse, swallowing me whole and then vomiting me up for its babies), I’d be happy.

  I spend most of the night awake, thinking about what’s right. The Arrival has been called for Ug’s family’s sake, yet with what I know now, there might be a chance of saving Ugthorn if we act quickly. Then again, maybe Saleeka was right: who am I to interfere? The Arrival will give Ug’s family a purpose and make up for some of the tragedy of losing Ugthorn. How can I take that away from Ug’s family? From Ug?

  In the early morning, I drift off into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of failure. It’s my usual dream, the one that I often have, where I return from my Arrival hunt and pull a scrunge rat or rock gerbil from my loincloth.

  This particular dream has a multiple-choice ending:

  a) Stand there and be laughed at by everyone. I call this the humiliation ending.

  b) Stand there and be stoned to death by an angry mob. I like this ending a little more than option a) because Speel sometimes stands too close and gets stoned as well.

  c) Make a run from the angry cave mob to the highest ledge. This always ends with me jumping and free-falling through the air. Somehow or other, I gain special powers of flight, allowing me to glide overhead and escape Rockfall forevermore. ‘Not a bad ending,’ you’re probably thinking. The only hitch is that I always wake up.

  I awake from my world of dreams with damp sweat circling my neck. Dad and Sherwin are nowhere to be seen. Mum is at the fire cooking breakfast. She’s cooking something different this morning. It smells like offal. Lucky me.

  As I sit up and wipe the sleep away from my eyes, I think about what will happen when I fail my Arrival. Having now been to the Dark Side, I know that it’s not the worst place in the world. In fact, the views are pretty great and I could easily become friends with folk like Del and Rex, and even Spud with his one big shoulder. But being banished to the Dark Side would destroy Mum and Dad. They would have to live with a grey cloud hanging over them for the rest of their days. No matter how successful their other son is – and let’s face it, Sherwin isn’t exactly a high-achiever – me being banished to the Dark Side would be like a death in the family.

  I realise that if it weren’t for Mum and Dad, I wouldn’t be doing this. The whole beating-my-chest-after-spearing-something-furry-that-was-minding-itsown-business thing just isn’t for me. But I want Mum and Dad to be happy and proud of me.

  I walk over to the fire and sit down opposite Mum. The smoke drifts into my eyes and makes them water. I close them and wait for the stinging to go away, then shift a little to one side to avoid being blinded again.

  ‘Good morning, Helix,’ Mum says, tending to the offal.

  ‘Hi, Mum.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  I can’t answer.

  ‘I know you will try your best, son. I’ve cooked you offal to give you extra strength. Look!’ She holds up some blackened offal-on-a-stick.

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ I take the offal from her and nibble around the charcoaled edges.

  ‘I’m sure you will have no problem feeding yourself but, just in case, I’ve packed enough meat to last you five days,’ she says. ‘It’s already charcoaled, so you’ll just need to reheat it over a flame.’

  ‘Where are Dad and Sherwin?’ I ask.

  ‘Oh, they’ve just gone out for a walk.’

  Before long, Dad and Sherwin return. Dad is holding something behind his back and has an excited look on his face.

  ‘What have you got?’ I say, which is what he wants me to say.

  ‘Let’s just say it’s a little something from Sherwin and me for your Arrival hunt.’ He reveals the object, bringing it out from behind his back.

  ‘It’s a stick,’ I say.

  ‘It’s not a stick, son. It’s a shaft. A hardwood shaft from an oag tree.’

  Oag trees are famous for the quality of their wood. They’re hard to find, though, as the best ones have been chopped down and used for firewood over the years.

  ‘We had to travel part of the way to Newstone along the Common Way and then descend into the middle woods. We’ve been gone since before dawn. What a journey!’ says Sherwin.

  The stick (it’s still a stick to me) comes up to Dad’s shoulder.

  ‘It will take me no time at all to bind your old spearhead onto this new shaft,’ says Dad, looking the shaft up and down.

  ‘Oh, I get it. You’re going to make it into a spear,’ I say.

  Sherwin slaps his head. ‘You’re such a bonehead, Helix. Of course we’re going to make it into a spear. Did you think you’d use it as firewood?’

  Dad finishes binding the spearhead to the new shaft. ‘Here you are, son,’ he says, handing it to me proudly.

  I stand up and take it from him. It’s much heavier than my old spear. I’m not sure I could even throw it past the entrance of the cave, but I shake it in my hand to make sure Dad and Sherwin are happy.

  ‘I have one more thing for you, son,’ Dad says, delving into a pocket around his belt. He pulls out a piece of finely sharpened flint stone.

  ‘What’s that?’ I say.

  ‘Something very specia
l,’ says Dad. ‘It belonged to Herb.’

  Herb? The Herb? As in, my great-grandfather Herb!?

  ‘Why haven’t you ever shown this to me?’ complains Sherwin.

  ‘Sherwin, don’t spoil things,’ says Mum.

  ‘What is it?’ I say, desperate to find out more about the flint.

  ‘Your great-grandfather took this very stone with him during his Arrival hunt. It came from the river. Or so he said.’ He passes me the angular grey piece of flint.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ I say, feeling the sharp edge of the flint with my thumb.

  ‘Wait,’ says Dad, reaching for the water bladder and pouring some water over the stone. ‘Look at it now.’

  Swirling patterns of blue, grey and brown appear, brought back to life by the water. It’s like no other flint stone I’ve ever seen.

  ‘You can feel it’s come from the river,’ I say.

  ‘Take it with you, son. It’ll bring you good luck.’ Dad winks at me.

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say.

  I leave the cave with a sack full of food and water, the flint in my pouch and my new spear in one hand. My family follows behind. I sense their nerves starting to build. Perhaps they are realising what I know already: that my situation is hopeless.

  Gathered around the speaking rock is the same number of folk as the night before. Maybe the anticipation of an Arrival was too much for them and they haven’t moved since last night.

  Ug is already there. He stands large, surrounded by his family, with a heavy club in one hand and a spear in the other. He’s staring ahead, as if he’s in a trance or frozen in stone.

  There’s a murmur as Korg the Magnificent appears from his cave with Speel walking behind him. Crag and Tor help Korg up onto the speaking rock. He looks bigger and grander than he did last time. Is it a new loincloth? A longer beard? A straighter back? Whatever it is, Korg’s appearance makes everyone else seem a bit smaller.

  He makes a speech. None of it sinks in. My mind is numb. I can’t hear or feel a thing.

  Speel, I’m sure, is staring at me with his small brown eye, a smirk hidden behind his hard-shell-encrusted beard. He knows the time has come for him to weed me out of Rockfall for good.

  Finally, there’s the customary well-wish, where Korg invites the caveboys, one at a time, up onto the speaking rock for some final words of advice.

  Ug is first. The stonehacks hold his spear and club while he climbs up.

  Korg speaks to Ug softly. All that can be heard are the gentle rasps in his throat. Ug is paying attention to every word, his eyes wide open, his head nodding obediently.

  Then comes my turn.

  ‘Helix,’ calls Korg, ceremoniously.

  I feel Mum and Dad squeeze my shoulders one last time, then let go. I walk past Speel and towards the speaking rock. One of the stonehacks removes the spear from my hand and the ridiculously big food sack over my shoulder. I climb up the steps and onto the platform. My back is to the crowd, my face towards Korg.

  Korg bends his stiff back a little to get closer to my ear. I feel like I should be on tippy-toes to save him from bending. I can smell his beard. It smells like every meal he’s ever eaten. Up close, I can see that his eyes are clouded and his eyelids hang low. His lips move from somewhere behind his grey beard.

  ‘You are nervous, are you not, Helix?’ he rasps.

  I nod. He must see the fear in my eyes.

  ‘There is nothing more you can do now,’ he says, as if he knows my destiny.

  ‘I know,’ I reply, ‘but what will happen if –’

  ‘Sh,’ he says, before I can finish my sentence. ‘When I was a boy, Helix, the Arrival was intended to help a caveboy find his true self.’

  ‘But I –’

  ‘Find your true self, Helix.’ His misty eyes have become sharper now. They have locked onto me and I dare not move.

  ‘My true self …’ I utter.

  ‘Your true self, Helix.’

  And with that, Korg looks up at the crowd. It’s a sign for me to step down off the rock.

  ‘Let the Arrival begin,’ he says, and the horn blows.

  What am I meant to do? I watch Ug. He walks calmly towards the edge of the high woods as if there’s no rush, then he disappears, not even bothering to take the Down Path.

  I do the same, but obviously not directly behind him. I want everyone to think that I’ve got a plan and know exactly where I’m heading. Though who am I kidding? I haven’t got a clue. I may as well place a blindfold over my eyes and walk wherever my feet take me.

  Once in the woods, I make sure I find the Down Path. I wander aimlessly for most of the day, walking slowly, following the path until it thins out and enters the middle woods. I don’t come across anyone or anything. As the day goes on, I start to wonder where I will find shelter for the night. The logical place – the only place I know of in the woods – is Cave’s End. But finding it is another challenge altogether. I’ve only been there once, and Ug had been leading the way.

  By the time I reach what I think is the low woods, I’m tired and desperate for shelter. I scramble this way and that, trying to find the rock that marks the entrance to Cave’s End. But it’s hopeless.

  The woods are thick here and the little daylight that’s left has to fight its way through the trees to reach the ground. It’s also beginning to rain, and the treetops above are dripping thick droplets onto my head and shoulders.

  It’s getting dark and cold. I stop and reach into my travelling sack for my sleeping skin, drag it out and place it over my shoulders for warmth. I find a big tree to sit beneath for shelter. It’s too wet to light a fire, so I’ll have to eat my meat cold.

  I sit, getting wetter and wetter and beginning to shiver. Someone should paint a picture of me, as I am now, in the Cave of Shame.

  Somehow, I close my eyes and forget about the outside world. I’m not sure if you’d call this sleep. It’s more like an agonising doze.

  At some point, I feel a sharp pain on my arm, which makes me wake from my un-sleep.

  My first thought is that an animal of some kind is nipping at me to see if I’m worth eating. I open my eyes and look up to see a different kind of animal. It’s big, hairy and has a familiar face to it. It’s Ug.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he says. ‘It is cold and wet. You should be taking shelter.’

  I stand up. ‘I couldn’t find Cave’s End,’ I say.

  ‘It is right there – look,’ he says, pointing into the distance.

  I think I can make out a dark lump behind a tree.

  ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I have made a fire.’

  Those few words send a wave of warmth through my bones.

  I follow Ug the short distance to Cave’s End. Once inside, he helps me with my sack and takes my sleeping skin from me.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I say.

  ‘Drying your skin.’ He constructs a makeshift frame with some firewood and lays my skin across it to dry.

  He sets up another frame over the fire and begins cooking the three mountain hens he must’ve caught in the woods.

  ‘I guess your mum didn’t pack you five days’ worth of meat in a sack,’ I say.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tends to the fire, where the hens are roasting.

  ‘I didn’t know you could cook, Ug,’ I say.

  ‘I would not call this cooking. More like burning,’ he says.

  ‘Isn’t that what cooking is?’ I say, thinking of almost every meal I’ve ever eaten.

  ‘Here. Have one,’ he says, taking a hen from the frame and passing it to me.

  ‘No, no, no. You caught it, you eat it. Anyway, I’ve got my own food,’ I say, pointing to my sack.

  ‘No offence to your mother, but this is better. Take it.’

  I accept his offer and eat quickly. The cold has given me an appetite and the warm mountain hen is delicious.

  After both of us finish our food, we sit on either side of the fire and watch the flames dance above the
coals. Ug is the first to break the silence.

  ‘He is going to die.’

  Upon hearing those words, my stomach shrinks and my throat tightens. Did I make the wrong decision? Should I have tried to convince Ug to cross the river and seek medicine for his father? But all I’m able to say is, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘The life is being sucked from him,’ continues Ug. ‘He has lost weight and it is hard to remember him as he once was. He was once the greatest of all hunters, Helix, the one who all the other men looked up to. But now he only gets weaker.’ Ug lets out a breath, a breath that he’d been holding for some time. Up until now, he’s had to appear brave and strong for his family.

  ‘You’ll always remember him, Ug,’ I say. ‘You’ll remember when he carried you on his shoulders, when he taught you how to make fire and all the hunting you did together. Your father will always be alive inside you.’

  The light from the fire flickers over Ug’s face. The first swell of tears is forming beneath his eyes. He lets out a big sniff, expands his huge chest and pulls himself together. The tears stay inside him.

  ‘The Arrival,’ he says. ‘It is my last chance to make him proud of me. I want him to be at peace, knowing that I will look after our family once he is gone.’

  Ug’s right – his Arrival will bring great pride to his family.

  ‘I’m sure when you catch some humungous beast and drag it back to Rockfall, your father will know that you’ve succeeded,’ I say. ‘The horn will blow and Korg the Magnificent will announce that you are now a caveman.’

  ‘I hope so,’ says Ug. ‘I want him to know this before he passes.’

  ‘He will. I’m sure he will,’ I say. Deep down, though, I dread the thought that Ugthorn will die before Ug returns.

  Ug stares at the dancing flames in the fire.

  I yawn. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Tomorrow I will say goodbye to you, Helix. I will travel through the low woods on a wide arc just above the river. Please do not follow me.’

  ‘Of course … I mean, that’s fine. I know you need to be alone. The last thing you want is little old me beside you. Though I do have a new spear,’ I say, pointing to where it’s leaning against the cave wall.