The Whistle in the Cave | Teen Ink

The Whistle in the Cave

December 18, 2014
By Kyle Yake BRONZE, Olathe, Kansas
Kyle Yake BRONZE, Olathe, Kansas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

William envisioned a tall, voluptuous sea of trees hovering over the vicious four legged hunters who would dine on raw meat until at the bone, leaving behind a treat for the detritivores that welcome the shade of their infinitely tall roof of leaves. Alongside, flooding the vast ground were scarlet reds, toxic greens, and wooden limbs. Worlds like these are why sailing to alien lands was not uncommon for Englishmen in the early 15th century. Land lust and adventure were ingrained in their hearts, and the Age of Discovery had just begun. Constant shoving and impending sickness that the ocean impeded upon all passengers told them to turn back, but looking ahead, all they saw was what could be. Raulf William’s body opposed it most; however, for the first time, he was able to practice combining science, aesthetics, and technique as a cartographer. As a kid, he would carefully unfold his father’s maps and admire the Latin-captioned faces blowing wind towards the wildly delineated countries of the rainbow. Though he was sick, the sight of land rekindled the spirit that longed for travel and new experiences. Eventually, the ship came to an abrupt stop. The experienced crew members were preparing to relieve the ship of its boxes and bags of equipment, and the passengers sunk into the sun soaked sand. It was time to set up a fire pit and tents with wood and rocks gathered, tents set up, food cooked; the first placid day since setting sail had come to an end. That was for all, except Williams. While everyone else knew and performed their routine and rested and ate after landing, he stood amazed. Various shades of yellow and green vegetation and brown furry to olive green beasts of all sizes sprung up wherever one looked. With his stomach at ease from the sea sickness, he focused on the adventure he sought as a child, and then it was filled with butterflies. Wonder from archaic maps and stories from his father was finally reached.
Eager to explore, Williams left the camp behind. Walking along the beach slowly, absorbing every piece of information. Peering up from the hermit crab among the infinite number of individual grains of sand, he spotted a mouth of a cave and considered what life could be stored within the isolated coffer. As he came closer, an expressive alternating frequency appeared then intensified. With each step, a whistle carried more heavily through the air. Williams thought of other explorers’ experiences in foreign lands. Wide eyes peered inside, trying to absorb any and all light.
William’s heart raced as he stood still, seeing a source of light coming from within the heart of the cave. Then he walked around the corner, towards the light.
A humanoid beast with dark skin covered in dark blue and red gems held feathers on its head that danced, as it did, around the fire. A shard of bone was shoved through his nose, fresh crimson red marked its face, and an alien expression was embedded in his deep black eyes.
A demon, unleashing evil where it went, had found its way into the cave. Grabbing a nearby rock, Williams plunged towards the beast. The sound of rock against rock gradually transformed into rock against hard mud as Williams beat into the head. Unrelenting animosity had permeated his being for that moment; he had not realized what he had done. He did not even know how to properly destroy a demon, but from the outcome, it seemed that the deed was done.
After relinquishing evil, Williams left. Back at camp was comfort—a place to rest. His mind was nonexistent as his body dragged it towards camp. Warning others would come later. Now, it would only cause unnecessary and futile panic.
Heavy eyes transmuted as sleep took its course. A bright, new day greeted him. Pushing aside the flaps of the tent, his eyes seemed to deceive him.
Demons communicated with the other members. Williams froze. Unlike in the cave, this shock was overwhelming. He realized the truth. The natives were handing supplies and tools to the colonists for their expedition. Familiarity was embedded in the exchanges, in the miens presented by both groups. Williams wondered if they knew each other, and if evil had disguised itself.
As months turned to years, acculturation of celebration, religion, and food was shared between the two, and a lifelong friendship ensued. Williams enjoyed their company and comradery. They supported each other through everything such as illnesses and even internal struggles. What he could not live with, however, was his first encounter with one of his brothers.
The dawning sun marked the beginning of the same mental pictures, night after night. When tried, forgetting was impossible. William’s penitence appeared to not work, but, in fact, made thinking also an everlasting torture. Every night that highlighted his guilt built up to William’s disappearance.



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