TWENTY-ONE: Ohglo Large - Part 3

29.

Without aim, Ohglo wander the desolate savannah and its little blotches of forest. He spiral away from the oahs in ever widening circles. He follow the stream-beds meanderingly through their wet spells and dry spells, losing them only when they go
underground.

He forage for food and water, keeping a watchful eye out for leopard, hyena, or glugg, as would any lone baboon.

Other animals -- zebras, gazelles, giraffes, an occasional lion see him at the water-holes. They look at him strangely, as if to say, "Isn't he weird?" but they leave him alone.

He get to the edge of the wild savannah, to the hills where the gluggs live. All the land dug up and planted with maize and cassava. He eat his fill. The countryside dotted with little round shambas, glugg nests. He see gluggs everywhere, walking the roads. He think about what Gar call his "mission" but he fear.

Finally, he just go up to the road and start walking along, trying to stand up on his hind legs like they do, trying to look like the gluggs.

He see the monsters with the spinning wheels, gluggs inside of them. They eat gluggs? He wonder. He wish he could walk so fast.

Gluggs notice him right away. They come around him so he can't walk anymore. He can't understand what they say, but at first it sound like questions. Then come answers. Chimoset one answer he remember from way back. The animal from dreams. Then
voices fill with fear. Crowds break up around him. Someone throw a stone at him. Then another and another. He have to run. He run and run back to the wild savannah.

Full moon after full moon after full moon, he get lonely. He meet some of the same elephants and zebras over and over again. He get to know them. He talk to them.

"Seem like water getting harder and harder to find," he say in oah-oah-oah talk. Elephant grunt. Zebra whinny.

One elephant he grow fond of he name 1-2-3 because he don't know her real name. One zebra too he call Black-and-white.

Sometimes he find just these two hanging back from their oahs, their herds. They kind of bump up against each other. Hungry for contact, he join in too and crouch around between all their legs. "Chee-chee-chee," he say.

chee-chee-chee: ha-ha-ha

Seem like these two roam around like him, following their herds, but at 1-2-3 distance. Like him, they some kind of misfits, he can't say what kind. Maybe they just like each other. They each other's pet.

The savannah get drier and drier. Food and water get scarcer and scarcer.

He have to be careful. Water-holes get dangerous as dozens of animals now fight and fight for the little water left. Only the great buzzards doing well. He never get meat any more, the lions and leopards and buzzards get it all first.

One time, in great thirst and hunger, he get lucky and come to a tiny water-hole where only his friends 1-2-3 and Black-and-white are drinking with a couple of steenboks.

The three of them rub up together cooing and grunting, happy to see each other and have a little water to boot. He get two ideas at once. First he think la-la-la, then he think ride. His feet sore. Distance between water-holes growing.

First he stroke at the zebra around his shoulders with his hands. Zebra seem to like it. Seem like his stripes rise up from his body. Then he try to hop on the zebra back. Zebra go crazy. No way, say the zebra without a word. Zebra little bit mad, bite at his ear, spin around and kick him. Friends stay equal, zebra seem to say.

He think about 1-2-3, the elephant. But no. Too big. Zebra-anger he can handle. Elephant-rage, he don't know. Still, he scratch her some behind the ear. She like it, too. She jiggle her bulk.

Then thunder come. Not thunder. Old noise. A Land Rover. Awful sound. Drought, leopard one thing. Glugg another.

The three animals run off in three directions.

There's three glugg-glugg hunters. Three shots. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Two miss. In mid-gallop, Black-and-white freeze and fall down dead on the ground with a strange scream.

One of the gluggs climb down from the Land Rover and come after Ohglo with a rope. He know him. Red hair. Spot! One of the scritch-scritches.

The other two gluggs go up to the zebra and start to cut off her skin. He know them too. The fat Farmer and his cub.

1-2-3 circle around and meet Ohglo. 1-2-3 heart broke. But she mad too. Real mad. She grab Ohglo with her trunk and throw him up onto her back. He riding now.

Then the elephant turn back toward the gluggs. Fear leave her. Rage whip her up to cheetah speed. Now the savannah sound more like thunder. Spot high-tail it back to the car. 1-2-3 head for the other two gluggs. They never saw an elephant speed like 1-2-3, a stampede of one.

The Farmer fire a shot, but it his last. In an eye-blink, the farmer and his cub flat as the earth, flat as the surface of the water-hole. Spot scream and holler, jump in the Land Rover, and drive away.

1-2-3 carry Ohglo back to where the hunters and the zebra all lie dead. He look at the Farmer and his cub. He think this the baby he pick up at the farm long time ago.

Suddenly he remember how hungry he is. He jump down from 1-2-3's back and grab a loose leg from the cub, torn from his body at the crotch. He eat the whole thing. The blood still warm.

1-2-3 poke Black-and-white with her trunk a few times. Then she bellow, her trunk high in the air. The sound shake the earth, like a Rift Valley rock slide.

The two of them hang out by this water-hole for awhile, even in their sorrow. Food and water are here. Buzzards pick at the rotting gluggs, but the starving lions and leopards haven't discovered them yet.

At night the moon full and double glisten off the still brown water. The elephant and the monkeyman cuddle together and la-la-la.

Ohglo never work so hard in his life. He work over every part of her tough-skinned bulk, rolling tiny folds of hide between his forefinger and opposable thumb. Sweat pour out of his pores.

For her part, 1-2-3 breathe into each of Ohglo's pores with the hot breath from her trunk. She squeeze his skin just a little with those strange muscles inbetween her nostrils.

An elephantine vision seep out of all their holes. Spiney vines grow up all around them weaving and twirling together. The vines are covered with spikes. The vines grow 1-2-3 faster all the time, take over everything, suck up the last drop of water from the water-hole, leaving behind a deep, deep pit.

The vines too die out as fast as they grow and collapse with a crash into the pit.

Insects swarm out of the pit, led by an armada of fireflies. White locusts, white ants, white moths. Cicadas, Mantises, Termites. All swirl to the sky in a violet cyclone.

The elephant and the monkeyman look into the pit. It fill with blood, but that dry up too. At the bottom a plane of white sand go on forever, blindingly bright in the desert sun. Strewn all over the sand are the huge bones of the elephants. The elephants graveyard. End-of-world.

That night, the monkeyman sleep with his head snug inside the largest vagina you can imagine.

The next morning Ohglo see that the water-hole dry for real. This a problem trying to share a water-hole with an elephant.

He leap up and perch himself behind 1-2-3's ears. They lumber along through the dust and sand in search of more oah-oah-oah-oah-oah.

oah-oah-oah-oah-oah: life, spirit, water.

Dust storm blow along. Cyclones of dust dance about the savannah, combine and grow. The dust and the air become one. Many things buried. Death is in the air.

Partching sun after sun about waste them away. Finally they come to a tiny stream. Ohglo hop off 1-2-3 and run to the bank. He scoop up a pawful of water. He drink. The water do not change to blood. No insects swarm out. Maybe he free of the fearful visions. Maybe he find peace with himself. He smile. He drink and drink. 1-2-3 drink and drink too.

Filled with water and joy, Ohglo skip some stones in the water for the sheer fun of the splash.

One of the stones miss the creek and strike another stone on the bank.

A spark jump out.

The spark!

The spark at the center of things!

His spark! His center!

He grab the two stones and take them away from the stream, where the savannah grasses are tinder dry. He bang the stones together again.

Another spark!

He keep banging the stones together. Again and again. More sparks. A dry blade of grass catch the spark and start to smoke. He blow on it. It smoulder. It flame. He clap his hands.

Soon more grass catch fire. Soon the stream-bank on fire. Soon the flames are taller than him. Soon the black smoke eclipse the sun. Soon the heat of the fire blister at his backside. Soon the whole savannah burning up!

He hear 1-2-3 bellow but he can't see her for the smoke. He hear her hooves thunder as she run. He start to run himself. He run and run down down down the stream-bed.

The fire spread and spread. The other animals sound their alarms and shake the earth with their stampeding hooves. Birds cram the air with their shrieks. An awful squeal arise from the panic of lions, leopards, giraffes, baboons, elephants, zebras, ostriches, ibises, hyenas, rock hares, antelopes, steenboks, dik-diks, and klipspringers, undertoned by the whine of the insects.

He run and run until he come to what must be the source of the universe. Directly before him a sea of water blaze in the sun, so vast it stretch all the way to the sky!

He blink in wonder. He howl in joy. He scream in happiness as he jump into the cool water. Splashing in bliss that go on forever, he watch the fire burn itself out on the shore.

Whatever he been searching for all these years, he have found it at last! He sure he is dead.