Greater Meanings
a very short story by Liza Loop
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Pitar smiled down at the tiny baby in his arms. A girl this time. Two weeks old and she was perfect. His gaze drifted out the opening of the hut to Anhout rubbing his stubby fingers in the dirt of the yard. It had taken him five years to learn to walk but he would never run like his father. Still, Pitar’s heart was full of joy and pride. Three live children whose mother loved and cared for them. Not many in his village of five hundred families had been so lucky. Abile was already twelve, fully able-bodied and apparently fertile. Pitar very well might have grandchildren.
Sadness, too, flickered across Pitar’s face as he strolled toward the beach where the dolphins capered just beyond the surf. The age of humans is long over, he thought. Not as far away as the dinosaurs but, like them, we are no longer the dominant species. The dolphins remembered the history of their planet and had been willing to share the story once humans had deciphered their language. It wasn’t a pretty tale. Abile, who grew up immersed in dolphin culture didn’t seem to mind at all, had, in fact laughingly asked, “What’s gold” whenever Pitar mentioned the human golden age. But Pitar’s grandmother was raised among living memories of “the change” and “the disaster war” so Pitar still harbored visions of a human community of builders and conquerors. They said there were “billions” of humans and that they nearly destroyed the world for everyone. “You’re better off without all that hoi polloi,” the dolphins said. “Life has no meaning beyond the moment, no greater purpose,” and they jokingly pronounced it “porpoise” and splashed the listeners.
Suddenly Abile streaked across the strand and disappeared into the surf only to emerge amid the swarm of churning flukes and rounded brows. “Be careful,” Pitar yelled, “you could get hurt.” Abile, astride one of his many friends waved at his father as they rounded the point, out of sight. Anhout, who had toddled down the beach to a convenient tide pool, began to scootch toward the opening to the sea. Although handicapped on land, Anhout was already an excellent swimmer. He dove, surfaced and throw a live crab onto the beach at his father’s feet.
“Maybe humanity isn’t doomed,” Pitar said aloud to the baby.
The End
copyright 2017 Guerneville, CA
This story just told itself to me one day. I thought it was going to be longer but when I wrote that last sentence there was just no more to say.