Chapter 4 - Sinful Desires

Carla:

Thomas and Michael come out of the cave and let us know that it’s where we’ll be staying at least for now. Then Tom starts talking about what we need to do. “Okay, we’re going to need some green trees about the size of my forearm for the ladder.” He glances around at the rocks scattered about. “We need things quick so we can set up, so we’re going to use Acheulean level technology. I’ll get a few hand-axes made up for the tree harvesting.”

He looks at the other men. “Sean, Mik, that’ll be your job. Cut down a couple of green trees the right size and haul them up here. We’ll use the rest of them for other things.”

Nods from them and he looks at Teresa. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I missed breakfast.”

“I’ll find some things to eat, won’t be fancy but it’ll be food.”

“Good, take Jennifer and Ahana with you. Ahana knows ways to make things a little more palatable, so perhaps some herbs to spice things up.”

“Do I have to go on the foraging expedition?” Jennifer asks.

“Ya,” he says. “Two reasons. First, no one goes anywhere alone, at least two people at all times for everything outside the cave. Second, as one of the armed people right now, and you say you know how to use it, you’re the guard for the other two.”

“What are you going to be doing?” Sean asks.

“Carla and I are going to gather some of that tall grass and maybe some vines. I gotta make rope to build the ladder with, and it’s very time consuming.”

“I had an idea for mats to sleep on,” I say. He looks at me and lifts an eyebrow. “My mother taught me how to weave grass and split reeds into baskets, satchels and mats.”

He smiles and I get a shiver for some reason. “That is great,” he says. “Mats with the leaves from those trees Sean and Mik will be hauling up here put under them. Insulation and a bit of padding. Okay, despite me going to feel like an octogenarian with massive arthritis in my hands when I’m done, I’ll do the rope, you do the mats.”

“Then ... kilts tomorrow?” Sean asks.

I grin at him. “Yes Sean, I’ll weave you a kilt and the rest of us skirts.”

“Fantastic,” Thomas says. “Ancient people didn’t invent clothing because of modesty, it was for protection. I for one don’t want to traipse around in the wood with delicate bits hanging out.”

“Definitely be a shame if they got damaged,” Jennifer says with a sly grin. He gives her a look and she just grins wider.

Then he shakes his head and says, “Off with you three, we’re going to need several trips to get enough for lunch and dinner.”

She shoulders her club and ... struts away with the other two behind her. She’s so confident and doesn’t seem to care that she’s showing the men everything. It’s a sin to be that exposed, but maybe Michael was right in a way. It’s not like we have a choice until I make us something. Ahana seems as embarrassed as me but is calmer about it. Teresa is hard to read, I think she’s uncomfortable but I can’t tell.

“Alright, I gotta find some rocks to make hand-axes from,” Thomas says and starts searching through the rubble.

That’s when I realize that I’m the only woman among three men and we’re all naked. I glance between them, Michael and Sean are showing ... interest with their ... God give me strength. Thomas doesn’t show it though, wonder if he even likes women.

I keep myself covered as best I can and try to make myself invisible to them. I hear things about girls caught alone by men such as these and I want to run far away. That lion or what ever it was is more frightening, if it caught me I’d be eaten.

Before too long, Thomas clears small stones and gravel from in front of a flat-topped rock and sits cross-legged. “Okay, basic tool making one-oh-one. Gather round people, I’ll teach you all how to do it later, but right now I want at least show you with a quick demo.” He puts seven stones on the rock, one of which looks different than the rest.

He looks up at us and smiles. “All the technology we have now, from mechanical pencils to nuclear reactors started with this, when purposeful making of tools began. People think of our early ancestors as barely above apes, but they had brains not terribly smaller than our own. They planned, calculated and thought things through. The first making of a double-edged hand-ax could have been an accident, but the one who did it found out that it was repeatable, and taught others how to do it.”

“Ya, but it didn’t help them. They died out,” Sean says.

Thomas looks at him and huffs. “If the success of a species amounts to how long they survive, then erectus is the king of the Humans. We’ve been around less than two-hundred thousand years, erectus existed for almost two million years. What are we going to be in that time? Will our descendants even be recognizable as human?”

Sean looks shocked. “That long?” Thomas nods and now Sean looks thoughtful. “Wow, I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.”

I want to quote Genesis. God created the world, evolution is false. But I don’t want to anger Thomas as he seems to believe that story. His knowledge is what will keep us alive, but I will pray he comes to know the truth in time.

“It’s a lot more than just banging a couple rocks together,” he’s saying. “You have to plan where and how hard to strike. The angle is also important. When we do real classes in this, you’ll make your own tools.”

He takes one of the stones in his left hand and the one different from the rest in his right. He spends some time turning the first one around, looking at all the sides. Then he puts it on the rock at an angle and strikes it with the round one.

A curved piece comes flying off the one that was hit and a shallow cup-shaped hollow is made. “The first strike is the most important,” he says as he looks at the result. “This is going to set the shape of the entire tool.” He picks up the piece that came off and examines that. “Now normally, I’d make a knife out of something else.”

He turns a little and offers it to me. “This is sharp enough for use to use on the grass we’ll gather and we’ll have several of them when I’m done.”

I take it and run my thumb across an edge. “This is not very sharp, but it will be sharp enough to cut grass.”

He grins, then examines the piece that’ll be an ax when he’s done. A few more strikes and a line of smaller hollows are made. “This is half done, but is equal to what Homo habilis made half a million years earlier than erectus. As it stands, this is Oldowan level technology, good for scraping meat off of bone and digging holes but not much more.”

He flips the piece over and examines it again. “Here’s where the two diverge. Oldowan tools were shaped only on one side, Acheulean tools are shaped on both sides. That’s what makes them sharper.”

Several more strikes, each carefully placed and he holds it up. “Now it’s a hand-ax. This will cut down those trees, but it’s going to be hard work and take a bit of time. I’d suggest switching off, one chops while the other guards.”

He hands the stone-ax to Michael who looks it over. “Damn, this thing is sharp,” he says as he tests the edge.

“Just don’t try to muscle it through the tree, take your time. It’s sharp, but it’s a lot more fragile than a steel ax-head.”

“Got it Cap,” the black man says with a nod.

Not long after, I have six of those knives and the pair have three axes. They head towards the tree-line and Thomas looks at me. “I’ll do the others later, my hand is starting to cramp,” he grins. “Lets go get that grass.”

He stands, grabs his club, and we head out to the tall grass. I’m still a little in shock. While he seemed to make it look easy and brush it off as just a skill, his concentration while he was doing it was like a master jeweler about to cut a diamond. Then I realize it’s very similar. A wrong strike and diamond turns to dust, with his stone tools, it would be a bad edge and all that effort wasted.

“How much do you need to make sleeping mats?” he asks me as we reach the edge of the grass.

“Depends on how many and what size. Do we each get one or something else?”

He looks at me, but even though I’m still worried about the others seeing me naked, somehow it’s not the same with him. Like he’s ignoring it. “What I know is that even though the sun was up when I woke, I was chilled.”

“I was freezing,” I say. Then I realize what he’s thinking. “Shared space?” I almost whimper.

“Shared body heat.” He shrugs. “Anything else is up to those sharing the space.”

“What if ... someone tries something and the other doesn’t want to?”

“First offense is a stern talking to, if it’s me being the offender, have Mik or Jen tear me a new one ... or both. Second offense, I’ll have to think about that. We’re going to be kind of a clan, a family of choice, so we can’t have that kind of thing occurring.”

For some reason I know that he won’t do anything that I don’t ask for. It’s a sin to lie with someone not your husband, and I’ve been to confession many times to atone for that. I will need confession when we get back home.

“I can make a single mat large enough for all with some space between if they wish it.”

“Could you do a pair of them, each about six by eight? We can put them together in kind of an ‘L’ shape.”

“I can do that,” I say.

He nods. “Let’s do it that way then, leave it open as to who sleeps next to whom.”

Knowing I’ll need to pray to God for forgiveness later for my sinful thoughts, I ask, “Would you mind if tonight I kept your back warm?”

The smile he gives me fills my mind with many sinful thoughts. “I’d like that very much.”

Maybe he does like women, he’s just not ... showing like the other two. I think I’ll be needing a lot of God’s forgiveness while we’re here and a long time in the confession booth when we get back. Then I gasp and he looks at me. “It is Sunday,” I say. “I’ve missed mass.”

He seems to consider that for a moment, then a soft sigh. “I think God will forgive you for that, considering. Would you like to take a few minutes?”

I nod and he steps a couple paces away, giving me the illusion of privacy. I find a spot clear of stones and kneel, crossing myself as I do. Then I try to clear my mind of everything but Him, and silently pray. I ask Him to watch over all of us, to show us the way home. I ask Him to give our families comfort while we are lost and to tell them that we will return. I ask Him to take the soul of the man killed into His presence and comfort him. I ask forgiveness for my thoughts and the things I did last evening. Then with nothing more to ask right now, I whisper the words of the Hail Mary and ask Her to protect us. Crossing myself again I then stand up, feeling a little better since I was able to talk to Him.

When I face Thomas again he has a soft smile. “Would you like to take a few minutes?” I ask.

He steps closer, and a warm, gentle hand goes to my shoulder. “I’m not religious, but I know some draw comfort in that. I’ll give you what time you need when you need it, all of you.”

Now I’m very confused. He seems like such a good and Godly man, but he does not know our Lord and Creator? This evening before we sleep I will pray that he does find God. I nod to him and he gives my shoulder a slight squeeze before his hand leaves it.

“So how much of the grass do we need?” he asks.

I think about the making of the mats. Then hold my arms in a circle in front of me. “Three bundles about this large.”

“I’ll need a bundle almost that size for the rope. So five bundles that big, gives us some extra.” He looks over the grass which is about three feet tall. “This is going to take a while.”