She wanted to blame the nuts from Ghana at first, tied up in little leather pouches, buried beneath the canteens, with them since they had journeyed on through four different countries. She had probably bit down too hard, gone on chewing for too long. The nuts were hard and tasteless after four countries worth of bumps and excursions and her tent and rummaging for her things while the others set up camp. They were probably one country short of falling under the category of dangerous jungle specimen A, but she knew the nuts were ultimately blameless. It was dentists and the chlorine smell of their offices and the fear of her jaw disfiguring and her molars wrecking bloody havoc over the terrain that kept her chewing at the insides of her mouth and ignoring the pain.

Her father would look at her sometimes, just walk up to where she sat and look down at her. She could see the question in his eyes before he opened his mouth. Jane, honey, are you sure you don't want to have someone look at that? He had suggested turning back, going up towards Morocco and Egypt. Make-shift hospitals had been set up out there, make-shifts dentist offices. They could head down south, where other British families had settled, maybe near Mozambique. She always shook her head no. She was more afraid of the leather tents along Mozambique than of the white plaster offices in London. She could only picture herself tied down to a cot, a stick between her teeth and her father grasping her hands as someone just reached in and pulled and she winced, one hand rising to press against her cheek. She didn't want to think about it. Better to just suffer through it and wait for the pain to go away. I'll be all right, Daddy, really.

There wasn't much to keep her mind occupied around the camp. Not today. She had tried drawing. A line of fire ants had formed from the back of Mr. Cecil Clayton's tent and marched out towards the jungle canopy, little green leaves pointing towards the sky. She lay down on the floor, her chin resting against the tip of her notebook, and tried to play with the imagery of the ants and the vanishing point and Mr. Clayton's tent, but instead she discovered she was drawing little ants carrying huge molars on their backs. Her handwriting stared at her from the top of the page: just pull it out! She slammed her notebook shut and sighed in disgust.

"Daddy! Do you need any help with anything?"

His voice came from inside his tent, muffled. "No, no, dear, I'm fine. Just fine. Just looking for a can opener."

She drew back the flap of his tent to find him bent over and dwarfed by his trunks. He had made a mess in his quest for his can opener. She picked up a few things and placed them on top of his bunk. Her father's sleeping cot felt soft and squishy as she sat on the edge, drawing her knees under her chin, watching him rummage through his things, cursing the Tungas of Siberia for stealing his can opener. She'd never been to Siberia. She wasn't sure her father had either, but she smiled. Her father had seen so many things. His trunks were filled with mementoes and odd trinkets and artefacts and excavation dust. They smelled of bamboo boats pulled down long muddy rivers and waiting on the banks and tying them to the sides of a camel and trudging up a mountain to realize the mules are all going in the wrong direction. She couldn't picture him young. Taller, dark hair, a dashing anthropologist. She was sure he had never been stuck in the middle of a lush emerald anywhere with a toothache.

"No, but I get stuck with a toothache. Bravo, Jane Porter."

Her father looked up with a start. "What was that, dear?"

She pulled her legs underneath her, resting her chin on the palms of her hands. "Just look at me, out here in the middle of the African jungle... and I get a toothache." She swung her legs down the side of the cot, her bare feet barely grazing the fine sand at the tent floor. "I wonder what perfect little Miss Minnie Thudgrough would think of this? Assuming Minnie could think."

Professor Porter shut his trunk closed. His can opener was as good as gone. "Don't say mean things about people, Jane. Your school mates had nothing to do with your toothache, right?" He pulled at his moustache, smoothing it down over his lips. Jane was smiling up at the ceiling and mouthing his admonition to the leather flaps. He wanted to reach out and comb back her stray hairs, but instead he sat beside her on his cot and patted her hand. "Don't worry, dear. You said this morning you were feeling better, right? Just get your mind off the pain."

She sighed, pulling at her make-shift ponytail. "I tried. I wound up drawing ants with molar carrying fetishes. Long lines of dentist ants, going up and down Clayton's tent." She could see her father looking at her, smoothing down his moustache, waiting for evidence that she tried at least two things in a row. Scientific procedure. She looked down at her bare feet and kicked at the sand, feeling sheepish. "I did try to keep my mind off it..."

Her father patted her hand again and walked back to his trunks. Jane left his tent feeling sheepish and lazy and wanting to blame Minnie Thudgrough for it. Nothing was going on outside. It was a slow day, one of those days when the unspoken rule was that unless a whole nest of Gorillas appeared right smack in front of the camp, no one was really going to do much to go out and find them. Anthropologist Bank Holiday. She made her way back to her camp slowly. Singing was coming from Mr. Clayton's tent. His shape stood framed against the corner of his cot, his razor held under his chin as he shaved and whiled away the day. She looked at his shadow move and shrink into itself for a while, sketching out mental lines and turning him into a potted plant and a hulking gorilla and a newspaper cartoon, the caption at the far right reading: lithograph by jane porter. She shook her head.

"I need something to do..."
 

“All right... One, two, three... Heave!”

A loud trumpet call rang out, echoing across the lush jungle floor, refracting back to its point of origin. Four figures struggled to push a larger one towards a waiting body of water. Gorilla. Man. Elephant. Their grunts rang out under the louder trumpet calls, palms pressed tightly against the elephant's tough skin. The gorilla at the front reached up to grab a hold of the pachyderm's long trunk, his feet braced against the floor to guard himself from being flung aside. The human figure had clambered unto the elephant's back, his movements quick and agile. A fluid scramble, and he was perched on top of its head, bending down close to its ears.

“Tantor, come on, it's safe.”

A female gorilla, her hair dishevelled and her face sweaty from the strain, abandoned her tugs on the elephant's tail and shot a look up at the human figure. “This ain't workin’, buddy, and I'm really startin’ to get tired of havin’ to drag this big lunk everywhere.”

Tantor wanted to protest, uncover his eyes and shake the gorilla by the scuff of her neck, but he was out in the open and terrified and surrounded by two more gorillas that would no doubt pounce him if one of their kind was attacked. He wanted to reach up and grab the man perched on top of his head by a leg, by his waist, anything, so long as he could pull him down near him and feel protected. They wanted to drag him towards the waterfalls. Again. It seemed as if no one ever got thirsty for anything save the water found there. The water with the dark things swimming at the bottom and the baboons hidden in the trees and leopards crawling through the underbrush and he didn't want to go.

“You tell them, Tarzan. Tell them I have a delicate condition. A weak heart. A fractured tendon. I... I got sick last time I drank the water there!”

He heard them laugh. All of them, even Tarzan. His feet scrambled over his back, and Tantor heard him land nimbly by his side. He was smiling, a full toothed grin stretching from left to right. Tantor could never trust him when he smiled like that, so open, so frank. He had reached up to rub his hands over his trunk, a soothing motion.

“It's all right, Tantor. If you don't want to come, you don't have to.”

He dropped on all fours, calling to the others. They abandoned their places by the elephant, walking behind him. The female gorilla patted his head as she walked past. “You just enjoy yourself right ‘ere, Tantor.” The other two gorillas laughed, and even Tarzan gave him a sly smile, his emerald green eyes bright. “Just you and the jungle... and all your good friends out there, in the darkness...”

The elephant let out another frantic trumpet call, clambering to his feet. The others leapt out of his as fast as possible, the ground beneath their feet trembling as Tantor thundered past them, making his way towards the waterfall. Tarzan laughed, leaping onto his back as his friend rushed past him. He knew the others would soon catch up, relieved that they would no longer have to plead with Tantor every step of the way. Taking a good grip of Tantor's ears, he leaned down closer to his back.

“Why're you so afraid of the waterfall, anyway? We've been there thousands of times.”

Tantor slowed his pace, the sound of the gorillas catching up to them as they swung across the branches above. Tarzan had settled comfortably on his back, the weight of his body comfortable and familiar after many years. “I know, I know. But there could always be danger... Baboons, piranhas, Sabor... I can't take all of that stress at the same time.”

Tarzan frowned at the mention of Sabor's name, but he merely reached down to pat his friend's broad side. The others had caught up. Flint calling out loudly that he could hear the waterfall up ahead. Terk outpacing the others, calling out for him. She swung down from the trees, barely missing Tantor's back. She clambered into a sitting position, legs folded in front of her as she made herself comfortable. “Quite a ride you've got ‘ere, buddy.” She ignored Tantor's humph and his demand that she climb down and swing like a good ape. “Hey, if buddy can sit ‘ere and ride like a chief, then so can I, right?”

“I'll just be glad to get to the waterfall,” Tarzan said. Terk nodded her agreement.

“After all that time we've devoted to getting lunk of derm ‘ere to move...”

They were laughing again, the voices of the other two coming down from the trees. Tantor quickened his pace. He was a scardy cat, true. He worried too much. He knew that. But he was also bigger. He could see the edge of the jungle up ahead, the thick vegetation yawning open towards a brilliant blue sky and the sound of thundering water. He reached the edge quickly and pressed his feet tightly against the floor. He could feel his bones as they strained to keep him standing straight, the frantic scrambling of feet and hands on his back as Terk and Tarzan both realized what he was up to.

He saw Tarzan's hands reaching out as he stumbled over his head, Terk's voice ringing after his. A thousand feet down. Tarzan's smile as he fell down. He didn't look too concerned. Tantor knew he wouldn't be. It was Terk's expression that he wanted to see. Round eyes wide, mouth working out a curse that froze in her throat as she fell, her shape becoming smaller and smaller, lost in the mists that rose from the thundering falls. I'll get you for this, she mouthed, her fur already drenched before the mists completely swallowed her up. Tantor let out a loud trumpet call, echoed by Tarzan's laugh as he disappeared into the mists as well.

“I'll be right down, guys,” he called.

Tarzan's voice drifted up, calling out an old joke between them. “Why I've seen more jungle floor...”

Tantor laughed. The other two gorillas had reached his side, and stood looking down in awed mirth as Terk and Tarzan tumbled down, waiting for the splash and the groans. Waiting for their cue to burst out laughing again.

“That ain't floor, Tarzan, buddy. That's a full week's bath!”
 

"What. A. Rush. Huh, Terk?"

The gorilla clambered out of the water with a grunt, rubbing water off her face and arms. The tuft of hair that crowned her head, of which she was so proud of, hung in gangly lines over her eyes. She dropped on all fours to shake herself as well, but not before she had fixed Tarzan with a glare.

"Oh, yeah, a real blast. Love the sting of all them gallons of water dumpin' on me. Remind me t'get on Tantor's good side more often, will ya, buddy?"

The elephant's trumpet call cut through Terk's words. His voice was coming from further down the river, where the waters were calmer. The other two gorillas were with him. How's it feel, Terk? they called out, their voices raised in laughter. Terk let out a dry laugh, mumbling about ant hills and three good branches, but Tarzan could see that her anger was really more a bravado than actual rage. She was used to that sort of attitude from the guys. She was one of them. If any one of the three had shown any real concern, she would have really beat them up, no questions asked. She could only endure concern from one person.

"You're really all right, Terk?"

She smiled at Tarzan, trying her best to get her hairs straightened out. "Yeah. Ain't tumbled off enough waterfalls yet, but I'm fine. Drenched. But fine." She saw him return her smile, running his hands through his hair to get the tangles out. He looked off at the distance as he did so, green eyes pensive, and she followed his gaze. A canopy of trees rose from all sides, reaching up towards the azure skies. A flock of herons took flight, their calls ringing out even over the falls. Specks of white over the landscape. Tarzan's voice was low when he spoke, but she could still make it out over the rumble of the falls.

"I wonder what she's doing right now..."

Terk knew whom he meant. The human girl. The dainty little thing with the yellow coloured dress and dishevelled brown hair and creamy skin. She rubbed at the back of her neck. Tarzan's eyes had deepened, a strange smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. He seemed perfectly at ease, long fingers combing in and out of his hair as he gazed at the distance. He couldn't see Terk anymore, couldn't hear Tantor calling, the other gorillas splashing and hooting to one another. Terk could almost hear the thoughts in his head. She wished she could push him off another edge, tumble down with him into the waters again. Pull themselves out and beat up Tantor for having pushed them down in the first place. But his smile wouldn't let her, so ridiculously wispy. He never smiled that way about anything. Especially not around the guys.

"You wanna go see her, don't ya?"

She saw him blush, tucking his face down against his chest. He thought she hadn't seen the look in his face. The idiot. She walked towards him, putting a smile in her face. Something seemed heavy and alien about her limbs, about the way she put her arm around his shoulders and drew him close, like she used to when they were smaller and she was the wise one and he was the frightened little tree frog ape. She had since lost track of the moment she had became the follower while he became the expert and the stronger one and the one running ahead, without her. She drew in a deep breath and drew him nearer, her smile stretching across her face.

"Well no sense sitting round 'ere, buddy. Get yer sorry rump over there." He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. Asking her if it was really all right, if he could leave. "Don't worry 'bout a thing. Tantor and them other two guys'll understand. And if ya come home a wee bit later an' usual, I'll cover for ya." She winked at him, broadly. She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind, now looking at her, now looking towards the distance. At length, he turned towards her, smiling. Decided.

"All right. But you don't have to worry, Terk. I'll be back before Kerchak notices."

He walked away quickly, his hand rising above the bushes as he crawled under. She waved back, watching him as he disappeared. She waited a while after he had left, holding her breath. He wasn't going to turn back. She sighed and drew circles on the soft mud around the waterfall's basin. He was probably running as fast as his legs would carry him. He would probably come back happy as a lark, swinging by his feet, hungry and talkative and all energy and bright green eyes. And he'll probably wanna nest with me an' tell me all about it... She sighed again.

"Hope ya crash against a tree, ya big lunk..."
 

She picked up a piece of chalk, motioning him near the black board her father kept by his tent. "Here, I'll show you." With a few, rapid strokes, she drew out the inside of a human mouth. She had never been very good at drawing teeth, but it was a serviceable enough drawing. She pointed at the second molar from the back, drawing out its root as she did so. "You see, when human teeth get damaged, the roots sort of swell up and it hurts something fierce."

He drew near the board on all fours, reaching up to run a finger along her white lines. She could see he didn't particularly understand all the details of her drawing, but he seemed to understand about the pain. His eyebrows knotted together, concern etching itself out over his features. He reached towards her face, placing his fingers against her lips. She barely had a chance to anticipate his movements, but she quickly opened her mouth, allowing him to peer inside. She could feel a blush running up her cheeks. It hurt. He was too close.

"N-now wait a minute, y-you wild ape man..."

He wasn't listening to her, but concentrated on peering at her teeth, turning her face this way and that. Surprisingly calm. Surprisingly gentle. He seemed as assured as any doctor she had ever visited, his brows knotted together as his eyes narrowed in concentration. As quickly as he had drawn nearer to inspect her mouth, he drew back, standing upright instead of on all fours. She could see the thoughts forming in his head, his hands rising to draw out little gestures in the air, his lips moving quickly. Searching for a word. He gave up at length, his shoulders dropping. He instead pointed at the ground.

"You want me to lie down?" She began to crouch as she said so, encouraged by his smile. He pointed again, urgently. "You want me to... stay here?" She found she was pointing too. It felt silly, but she liked it. It was like charades. He nodded again. Stay here, he said, imitating the way she said it. He looked relieved as he said it, glad to have found the words. She drew her legs underneath her and smiled up at him. She couldn't lose anything by not trusting him. Although I doubt apes have dentistry equipment... She watched him turn and run towards the jungle canopy, dropping on all fours as he went.

"Right," she told his back. "I'll just stay right here. Like a good girl." She pressed her fingers against her cheek again, biting at the insides of her mouth. "Just me and my toothache..."
 

"No, no, no, no, no," the ape man said, the words accompanied by a gesture Clayton knew to be pure Jane. The young lady smiled at him, finishing the sentence she knew he probably couldn't. "These are medicinal leaves, Mr. Clayton. He's helping me with my toothache. And it feels amazingly better already. It's outstanding."

Clayton cast the younger man a narrowed glance, turning the leave over and over in his fingers. He could sense the anger growing in the ape man with every twist of the leave. He released it with a quick flick of his fingers, watching as the young man darted forward to catch it between his large, knotted hands. He frowned up at him, but Clayton knew he had no words to insult him with.

"You'd best be careful of those things, Ms. Porter," he said. "Least that could happen, you could lose several teeth, if not all."

Jane frowned. Trust Clayton to say things like that. To spite him, she chewed harder on the leaves the ape man had given her. They were amazingly good. Her teeth were almost completely numb, the pain subsiding slowly inch by inch. She had asked the ape man what they were, but he could only hoot in return, hands slapping the ground at his inability to tell her. "It's all right," she had said. "You can show me where they are."

Now she could hear Clayton rummaging in his tent, the metallic clank of his things drawing the ape man to his feet and knuckles, his eyes bright. He almost leapt at Clayton when he arrived, the older man yelping as he saw him approach, his hands rising over his head to protect a square wooden box he had brought with him. He shooed the younger man away with his feet, like a dog. Bad boy. Down. Jane chewed harder on her leaves, calling out that Clayton leave the man alone. Clayton didn't seem to pay her much attention. He simply crouched near her and held the box out to her, smiling from one side to the other. A small, red cross had been painted neatly over the lid of the box, and she recognized the expedition's safety kits.

"You see, Ms. Porter?" Clayton said. "We have all we need right here. And especially with my safety kit." He opened the box with a flourish, the clasps snapping off with an efficient click. The ape man had drawn nearer, practically clambering on Clayton's head in his enthusiasm to see. Jane wanted to laugh at the look of earnest curiosity drawn out on the younger man's face, but she didn't dare risk annoying Mr. Clayton. He had gone on speaking almost to himself, pulling out several medicine bottles and packets of pills and boxes of silvery needles. "I put this safety kit together myself," he was saying. "I've had it with me since I was twenty two and had embarked on my first expedition to India with Lewiston and Humphreys. Has never failed me."

Jane tried to smile as kindly as possible. "That's really amazing, Mr. Clayton. Quite fascinating, actually. But my toothache's already gone, you see..."

"Nonsense, Ms. Porter. Those leaves will probably only work for a few minutes, and your pain will probably be worse after their effect has worn out completely."

He unhooked a silver needle as he spoke, filling it with a shimmery blue liquid. Jane knew what he intended to do, and clasped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head no. "It's quite all right, Mr. Clayton, really. Thank you for worrying..." She heard him put down her pleasantries with a few of his own, the needle poised in his hands. She moved away from him, rising unsteadily to her legs as he advanced. He was smiling. She didn't find it funny at all. She cast a glance in the ape man's direction, found him crouching low on the ground, his eyes locked on Clayton. Teeth bared. She clasped both her hands over her mouth, wanting to scream out even as she turned away.

A rush of movement, flashes of khaki and flesh and she had ran away from them, calling out to her father. She could hear Clayton struggling, his voice cracking under the low growls of the ape man.  She griped the canvas doors of her father's tent, drawing them apart quickly.

"Daddy! It's Clayton... the ape man is...!"

She barely had time to finish her words. A howl had come from behind her, the sound making her shiver even as she turned to look. The ape man lay crouched low on the ground, the muscles of his back tight as he bared his teeth and hissed under his breath. Clayton lay on his side, grasping at his hand, his teeth clenched. Jane could see where the needle had punctured into his skin, the bluish liquid dripping down his hand. Mingling with blood. She heard him howl again and then fall silent, his eyes closed tightly as her father emerged from his tent and ran towards him. The ape man moved aside, his muscles relaxing but his eyes still locked on Clayton's shivering shape. He straightened out slowly, knuckles firmly against the ground as he watched her father help Clayton to his feet and guide him towards his tent. The professor didn't say a word as he passed by Jane. She wouldn't have heard. She could only see the ape man's eyes. Green. Intense.

Frightening.
 

"OK, lemme see what you've got so far."

He could almost hear the disappointment in her face as he nodded towards the massless shape, her eyes rolling upwards as she groaned. A few leaves came loose from the dolls muddy arms. It looked pitiful. Simply pitiful.

"Aw, c'mon, Tantor! What's that supposed t'be, huh? It looks like a whole pack of howler monkeys had a field day with the guy. And then some. I would be ashamed to call that Tarzan. It... it ain't even got a proper head!"

Tantor hmphed in indignation. "It does so! See?" He lifted the tangle of vines with his trunk. "Looks just like his hair!"

Terk only rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath as she turned away, pacing. Right left, right left.  She bit her lower lip. The sun was almost down, and Tarzan was still out there in that blasted human camp. With that girl. She frowned, her pace becoming quicker. Kerchak would begin counting the full nest any minute now, tree by tree, gorilla by gorilla. One recognizable lean brown excitedly noisy body missing. She had to think of something. She had promised Tarzan she'd cover for him. Some covering. Wish I could cover that mess Tantor's whipped up.

"Terk..."

She waved Tantor's voice away, busy pacing. Busy worrying herself to death. She wished Tarzan would appear, crash out of the trees for no particular reason and cheerfully announce that he was back. She wouldn't even care if he wanted to talk about the humans non-stop. Just as long as he would just show his face and save her from the trouble she had put herself into. Me an' my big mouth. Go visit her. Right. Then I'll just pass off a bundle of leaves as you. As if Kerchak would buy that. Just wave a bundle of leaves around an--

"Terk?"

She jumped at the sound of that voice. A pair of blue eyes looked straight at her, eyebrows knitting together. Kala. Terk pressed one hand against her heart and tried to produce a confident smile. She could hear Tantor twitching behind her, his knees knocking together. Terrified. Obvious. She widened her smile.

"Have you seen Tarzan...? It's almost time for everyone to gather at the nest and I haven't seen him all day."

Terk scratched at the back of her neck, her mind racing. "Tarzan? My buddy Tarzan? He's, ah, he's... He's by the waterfall. Said he wanted a quick drink ah water. Yeah. Big waterfall obsession that son o'yours has. Takes me forever to pull him back."

Kala didn't seem convinced. She looked off towards the direction of the human camp, and Terk felt herself blanch. "He's usually never gone this long..." Kala's eyes clouded over, her mouth twitching with worry. She probably knew about the many times Tarzan went to the human camp. Probably knew he was there right now. There was really no need to lie to her. She would only worry herself sick otherwise. Terk sighed, her shoulders dropping. You've got one Hell of a mother, buddy. Scratching at her belly, Terk let out a deep breath.

"He's there, Kala. With the humans. Left not long after we went off t'the water hole. I... I told him to go. I thought he'd be back by now, y'know?" She lowered her head. Her feet stared up at her in silence. Big and grey and ugly. Not small, not creamy. She shook her head. Kala had moved closer, one hand rising to rest over her shoulder. Terk could see the relief in her eyes, but she could only smile weakly. "I'm sorry, Kala. S'all my fault..."

Kala shook her head. "No. It's not. I only hope he'll make it back in time..."

Tantor took a step forward, his muddy leaves Tarzan draped over his tusks. "And if he doesn't, we have this right here!"

A few more leaves scattered down from the lumpy effigy, and neither Kala nor Terk could find any words to say.
 
 

Unfinished
 
 

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© June 3rd, June 16th, 1999 Team Bonet