The Shrewdness of Apes

by Chris Wheatley

About the Author: Chris Wheatley is a freelance journalist, writer and musician from Oxford, UK. He has an enduring love for the works of Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, Chester Himes and Cornell Woolrich. He has just completed his first full-length crime novel and is forever indebted to the advice and encouragement of his wife, his son and his mother, without whom he would never have come so far.

Excerpt

The cave is cool and quiet. Beyond the circle of its entrance the great burning Eye is beginning to chase away the darkness. The fire is dead. It has eaten all that we gave it. The others are sleeping. Fire-maker, Long-spear, Ice-Eyes, Runner and Wailer. There are many more slumbering about. More than my fingers and my toes.

At the lip of our home I look out upon the wakening land. It is very bad luck to be the first living thing that the Eye sees and so I wait until a hopper breaks its cover and comes a little way forth from the bushes. Then down the steep rock slope I go and up along the path. The heat of the Eye warms my back but the ground is cold underfoot.

I listen. I sniff. I bend down to touch the grass. There are big-tooths here and also rock-backs and so it is always best to be careful. I lift up my furs and squat. A sky-finger crawls slowly along the branch by my head. Everything hunts and is hunted and this is the way of the world.

On my return, our people are gathered outside the cave. Ice-eyes, our chief, is a head taller than any other. Long-spear stands a fist below. This is our awakening. We raise our hands to the Eye and put our arms about each other and turn up the corners of our mouths. Darkness is gone and we are alive. Now is the time to find food and fetch water.

Fire-maker comes to greet me. When Fire-maker is close I feel warmer than when the others are close. Fire-maker has a finger of white upon her shoulder where a sharp-back cut her skin. Fire-maker has eyes like clouds when water comes from the sky.

Story Comments