He’d taken me home with him, sheltered me in a small cave, and taught me to gather food for the winter. That’s what we had been doing—gathering food. That’s the last th
ing I remember…
No. Not quite.
Several feet away, I focus on the slightest shimmer of light. I can barely make out the shape of a large hide covering the slender crack that allows passage from the cave to the outside world. My eyes adjust slightly as my head throbs. I try to move, but that only leads to more head throbbing as everything about that day rushes back.
I reach out with my tongue to wet my dry lips, but my mouth is dry, too. My lips feel cracked, and I taste the coppery flavor of blood on them. My head swims as I try to focus my thoughts. I had been next to the water, gathering clay to try to make some bowls. Someone grabbed me from behind. I thought it was him at first—my caveman—but it wasn’t. It was someone else.
Waves of dizziness and nausea overtake me, and my eyes close once more to the darkness inside my mind.
When I wake again, the throbbing is diminished, and I’m more keenly aware of my surroundings. I’m pretty sure it’s later in the day now because the sun is providing more light through the hide-covered opening of the cave. There’s a distinct chill, and I shiver as I slouch down under the fur and turn towards the only warmth in the cold, rock home.
“Ehd?” My throat hurts when I try to speak, and my voice is hoarse. I swallow a couple of times, but there isn’t enough saliva in my mouth to coat my throat. Turning my head, I look closely at Ehd. He rests his head on his hand, and his face is pale in the dim light.
“Ehd?” My heart pounds a little faster as I check for signs of life. He’s warm. His chest moves rhythmically with his breath, and his eyelids flutter briefly. I call his name again.
“Beh.” He doesn’t open his eyes as the guttural sound leaves his throat. Memories of trying to teach him to say “Elizabeth” rush back to me as well as thoughts of when he first brought me back here to this cave. I remember the comb he made for me and the first time we made love.
“Ehd?” I reach out and touch his cheek, stroking slowly over his rough beard with my knuckles. “Ehd, wake up. I think it’s late out, and I’m not even sure how long I’ve been asleep.”
He stirs in his slumber but doesn’t open his eyes. Reaching up to my temple, I feel a sharp pain under the skin, and my head swims again as clearer memories form.
I had been on the edge of the lake. I’d found a fresh batch of clay there, and I wanted to try to make a proper pot with a lid for cooking. None of the clay dishes I had made had come out right—I had no way of properly firing the pieces—but I wanted a good-sized pot to mimic a crockpot of sorts. It was going to take a lot of time to make, but it would be worth it when it got cold outside, and I could make a large batch of cooked barley and whatever plants were around.
While I had been digging at the clay, Ehd had been tapping at pieces of flint a hundred feet away from me. My period had just ended, and he had been so horny, I had barely been able to keep him off of me all day. As much as I loved the attention he gave me, at some point a girl just gets sore!
When I had felt hands grabbing my waist, I thought it was Ehd, looking for more affection. I had playfully pushed away the hand on my hip, but it gripped tighter, and another hand shoved me down on my face.
Ehd didn’t behave that way. Once, in the beginning, he had turned me over and tried to have sex with me. I had just been attacked by a large pig, and Ehd had saved me. He was obviously frightened by the experience, and I thought it must have triggered some kind of automatic response from him, as if he had to do something to claim me. When I said no to him, he stopped. Though he doesn’t understand anything I say, he must have understood the tone. He looked so horrified by his own behavior that we ended up consoling each other in wordless touches.
The last touch I remembered was nothing like that. The contact had been brutal and painful. I had screamed, instantly knowing that the man behind me was not Ehd. I had felt his cold hand up under the fur I was wearing, grabbing at my thigh, when I heard Ehd roar. I only caught a glimpse of him before the other man threw me down, and I hit my head against the rocks.
The blow must have been hard enough to knock me unconscious. I probably have a concussion, and the state of my lips and throat tells me I’m dehydrated.
I try to sit up, but spots light up my eyes, and I quickly lay back down before I pass out again. I need to get some water into me, and I need Ehd’s help with that.
“Ehd!” I call his name louder this time though it makes my throat hurt. I shake his shoulder until his eyes open, and he stares at me in confusion. He glances around the cave for a moment before he focuses on my face again.
“Beh?” My name is clipped and high pitched as it comes from his mouth. His eyes widen, and he reaches out and grabs me. “Beh!”
He wraps his arms around me and holds me against his chest as he begins to sob into my shoulder. He calls my name over and over again, and I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound.
How long have I been unconscious?
“Ehd, I need some water,” I say softly, trying to keep my tone soft so it might calm him down a little, but I also need his help. “Ehd?”
He pulls back and runs his hands over my face like he’s checking to make sure I’m really here. I smile at him, and he touches the tips of his fingers to my lips for a moment before he jumps up. He stumbles and shakes his head a bit before hobbling slowly over to the side of the cave to bring me a water bag made from the stomach of a deer.
I try to drink slowly, knowing I could make myself sick it I consume the water too quickly. Even trying to pace myself, I still end up in a coughing fit. I take several breaths between sips to slow down, and the coughing stops. As the liquid works its way into my system, my head doesn’t throb quite as much. I can swallow more easily now, and I look back to Ehd, who is stroking my arm and staring at me intently with worry on his face.
He takes the water skin from me and strokes my cheek.
“You look like you aren’t feeling all that well either,” I say as I smile at him. “How long have I been out?”
He stares at my mouth but doesn’t answer. He never does.
I remember trying to teach him more words, assuming he had some form of language, and we just needed to get on the same page. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that Ehd didn’t speak in words. Though he had a firm grasp on a sound that represented a name for him and for me, he made no other vocal sounds outside of seemingly meaningless grunts. I remember drawing pictures in the dirt, but he couldn’t comprehend that either.