Have dinner or be dinner

This time I would like to tell a short episode In my turbulent life. But before I start unrolling my thread, I would like to lay out the scenario my tale is set in.

At that time my father was working for a Canadian firm “Light & Power” which did business in constructing hydro-electric dams in Brazil. My Dad was employed as a geodesist measuring the height spots along a river for the construction of a future hydro-electric dam. A work group or land surveying team broke camp at a best chosen place and carried out their measurements from there.

The camp usually stood by the river in the backwoods and was composed of 8 to 10 big tents, a kitchen usually with walls make from bamboo with a canvas roof and a mess room built as the kitchen. I shall not waste time describing the localization and construction details of the toilets.

All my summer vocations I used to spend in those camps. That year my Mom had some trouble with her health and was undergoing complicated treatment which demanded a longer stay in hospital from time to time. To make things easier for her, Dad decided that he would find me a room and boarding in a town close to the camp, where I could be fed and cared for and would also be able to attend school. The town was called Santa Branca and I was given shelter in the local parish. On Fridays, straight form school, I used to march to the camp some 7km away and return on Sunday afternoon.

Came Friday, and off I set to my Dad’s camp, wondering what was for dinner that day. The dirt beaten and dusty road to the camp meandered in a hilly country side through groves on hillocks, crofts in shaded dales with bamboo bosks , through sparsely scattered thorps, it vanished over grassy hummocks to appeared on the next crest covered with hurst of thorny bushes, crossed brooks murmuring their way through cool coppices of trees laden with aromatic blossom…[What was that, ya Med…them words not found in google…nah, pal… ..not the creation of my imagination, they’re pure English words, lol ]

The day was pretty hot with clear skies and I was getting hungry, not wanting to miss my dinner at the camp, I hastened my pace. I took a look around to find out how far I was from the camp. From the bottom of the dale I found myself I could see a wide, slowly flowing river, here the Paraiba river spilled itself wide on a flat valley among many hillocks, from which I deduced that it would be a question of a half an hour’s walk to hit camp so I started climbing the hill with high hopes for a savory dinner.

Approaching the summit of the hill I felt the heat of the setting sun full on my face and as I reached the top, I caught the view of something that made an 11-year-old kid stop dead on his tracks. Not more than 30 meters down, on a termite hill, sat a big cat, locally called onca, [read – onsa] or a jaguar. Its silhouette was clearly outlined in the reddish hue of the dying day. [yeah, I was dying too] The beast sat there, majestic in its unruffled pose looking at the setting sun slowly sink over the hill tops only the tip of its tail twitched like an earthworm on a fishing hook, . [uhu..my heart also sank with a thud]

Although my legs suddenly went jelly, something inside me told me to keep going as if nothing had happened, [sure, nothing…..only a wild cat waiting for its dinner] painfully I forced my legs to keep on moving. From many heard and read tales, I knew that I should not, under no circumstances, look the beast in the eyes. Being scared to death as I was, I could not refrain myself from looking at that magnificent creature. One part of its body was hidden in its shade, the other, exposed to the warmth of the sunset, was clearly visible. Wow…those fantastic spots on the silky fur covering strong, sleek muscles. The ears turned once this way, another time another way, just like radars, yet the proud head remained motionless as if to show off those splendid whiskers. Bet them radars caught my presence and my days were counted, I thought to myself and wondered whether I’ll make camp on time for dinner or…. be dinner. My whole entity desperately desired to be far away and as quickly as possible, but time seemed to have frozen…although I succeeded in maintaining my pace…I felt as if I was moving at a sluggish rate. Frightened as I was, I felt an insuppressible desire to look at that grandiose creature.

As I was passing by that marvelous cat, it turned its head and looked at me. My already throbbing heart missed a beat and the whole world around me went silent. As our eyes met, I whispered – Por favor, bonita, deixa me passer – please, pretty one, let me pass] . The radars homed on me, the whiskers bristled and the yellow eyes slammed on my wide open and terrified dark brown eyes…and all the blood form my head freaked off to my feet. The most wonderful eyes I had seen in my short [and probably soon to end] life slowly blinked and impassively went back to admire the picturesque sunset.

The relief was so great that I almost fainted. Suddenly everything went normal. I could hear the birds sing, feel the smell of trees in blossom and hear the wind whisper over the trees and my feet felt the ground under them. Wow – I was completely amazed and fascinated….the gorgeous cat spared my life and I will have dinner and not be dinner.

Tags: story

10 members like this

Add a Comment

You need to be a member of EnglishClub to add comments!

Join EnglishClub

Comment by Anderson on December 3, 2012 at 17:16: Looks like EC has its own Edgar Allan Poe.
You're a hell of a writer Rys.

SpamBuster Comment by nidα on October 2, 2012 at 3:37: WOW, Fantabulous!!!!!

SpamBuster Comment by Yasemin on October 1, 2012 at 22:32: I also have a story like yours. But, my English is not as good as yours to tell it.

I enjoyed reading!

Comment by Med on October 1, 2012 at 22:04: I'm so glad to see u write a completed words and phrases although there is no word on ur blog i studied at the school (a smiley face emotion :) ).

u know i get difficult to understand ur way in shorten words on chat .

indeed u have a great talent in viewing events in interesting way ( respect emotion).

by the way, i'm so glad to see my name is mentioned on it .

good luck and waiting ur next blog .

Comment by Ryszard on October 1, 2012 at 20:43: Oi Mehr, jan

Thanks a lot for caring to come to my page and read my blog and leaving a comment. Hmm..usually I do not tend to wonder and ponder during my writing spree...an idea comes to my mind and I transfer it immediately onto paper. Yes, in that unexpected surge of creative thinking one is apt to do a mistake here and there, nolens volens, so to say. I try to write keeping the pace of thoughts inflow...normally I do not try to change the composition as I found out that the more I try to improve, the more unreadable it gets....LOL.

Nope Mehr...I do not have the tendency of floating away in pink clouds of imagination. This episode really happened.

And as far as being a novelist...nah..I much more prefere to entertain my friends here with what comes to my mind, be it some echoes of long gone days or a mere opinion on some aspects of our daily life.

Comment by Ryszard on October 1, 2012 at 12:45: Howdy Folks,

At the start I wand to thank you all from the bottom of mah heart for visitin' mah page and troublin' yerselves to read mah scriblings and leavin' a comment, for which I shall be obliged for da rest of mah life.

Nadira, thanks so much for ur kind visit to my page and for the com. too.

Verve, how can you tell whether you have the tallent for writing or not if u don't give it a couple of tries, one is just not enough.......

Frank, amigo, obrigado for ur reading and comment. I knew that it was a "bonita" as the local lore says that female cats of pray don't attack children, guess it has something to do with mother instinc, whereas the males do, macho instinct of getting rid of any rivals.

Dia, great thanks for coming, reading and leaving that cool comment. Yes, I fully agree with you, them city cats are much friendlier, even them two-legged ones.

Lucy, thanks a lot for ur warm comment and for the touble you took to come to my page.

Ma'am, it's a great honour to me that u cared to come, read what I wrote and leave that lovely comment...it really boosted mah macho self esteem.

Lupusita, What did that big cat see, well...an 11-year-old boy in khaki uniform, shorts and shirt, walking boots and terrified eyes. For dinner that day I had may best liked food at that time, rice, brown beans, half raw beefsteak and for dessert, black coffee and cheddar cheese with marmalade.

Comment by Viviana D'Orìa on October 1, 2012 at 0:59: I wonder what did tht cat saw ... but apart from the fact your novel was great and all what could be said abt jaguar, jungles, feelings etc a q came up to my mind and i can't say more until I ain't the answer. What did you have endly for dinner?_-_

Comment by paula on October 1, 2012 at 0:38: OMG Rys......I loved it........you had me at the first few words.........to say it is just an amazingly thought out story........Wow.......great job........!!!!!!!....MORE MORE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!....HUG

Comment by Lucy on September 30, 2012 at 23:18: wow! I love it! I'm telling you as a professional novelist, was on hold until I finished reading the whole story.
And most emosionante is that I had to find a lot of words in the dictionary to understand everything and well, and my suspense grew more and more with every word. Up to know the end of the story.

Bravo! You are a writer innate.

I am very happy because you were not dinner and you have dinner that night.

By the way, I love the title of your story is very original and instructive.

:)

Comment by frank alvarez on September 30, 2012 at 16:02: great tale, rice, nice memories, they could have been your last ones. By the way how did you know it was bonita but bonito, or you just simple think you could only be attacked by a female as it has happened your entire life?, irresistible morceu? Thanks for sharing your life with us. I've spent a great time reading it.