I Must Not Sleep

By R Vidovix

I look up but I can no longer see the sun shining above the canopy. I don’t have a watch but I know it is gone five o’clock. The birds have all stopped singing as they get ready to go to bed. The monkeys have stopped jumping and screaming as they prepare to hide for the night.
I walk along the trail counting the large trees in the way. There are 19 mahogany trees and 26 Brazil nut trees to go before I reach home. Unless I find the Brazil nut shells in the path, I will have no time to collect any today. The light is fading rapidly and I must walk faster if I want to reach the landing strip before nightfall.
I breathe deeply and the smell that comes to my nostrils tells me of heavy rain. It rained a little this morning but the dry smell of the soil tells me the forest needs more water. It will rain soon.
I cross another stream on the way and notice the paw prints next to a drinking spot. They weren’t there this morning. I don’t know enough about animals to recognize which one left the mark but I can tell it is a big cat. Paulo says jaguars will rarely attack a person in the jungle but the stories I have heard tell me otherwise: in the jungle all big cats are dangerous.
I walk faster looking around; checking to see if there is any threat to my safety. I am not scared but I am worried. I didn’t mean to be out this late and I didn’t bring a torch with me. I should not have forgotten Paulo’s advice: never go out without a machete and a torch. At least I have a machete.
The last hill is very slippery and as I hold the roots of a tree to help myself upwards, a big insect jumps onto my arm. It looks like a leaf and, although huge, it doesn’t look harmful, and I hope it stays there until I get home. I have no time to put it in one of the plastic carrier bags I have in my back pack. They are common in the jungle but I can’t remember seeing one as large as this.
I am tired and thirsty and I will have another drink from the stream just before the 7th Brazil nut tree. I am almost running now. The light is almost gone.
I reach the last mahogany tree. I can’t help but look up and notice there is a new parasite on its trunk. I can’t tell what it is, it is too dark. It is my favourite tree but today I have no time to stop and appreciate its beauty.
I am scared now and I am almost running. I step into a hole and I feel my feet sinking. I try to pull out but it is too late. I have stepped on an ants nest and the stinging sensation of an attack from a thousand ants is immediate. I can feel them climbing all over my feet and coming up my leg. I move away but they come with me and I can now feel the bites in my hips. I bend down and rub my rubber flip flop all around my foot trying to kill the ants. I lift the leg of my jeans but they are everywhere. They are in my hands, climbing up my arms.
The last rivulet is just ahead me. I must run and get in the water as fast as I can. I lie in the stream and the cold water makes me shiver but I can feel the stinging going away. Ants don’t like water. I lie there for a few minutes hoping that they have all gone.
I get up. It is completely dark now and I can barely see the way. Paulo always says that people often get lost in the jungle because they panic.
I stop to think and clear my head. I bend down and scoop some water in my hands. I drink it in the hope that I will have a clear mind to make the right decision.
My eyes are getting used to the dark and as I look up, I can vaguely see the sky. The moon will be there soon and hopefully I will find the way home.
I drink some more water hoping that an answer to my problem will become clear to me. Nothing happens. I am still cold and very scared. My teeth start to rattle and I think of Paulo again.
“I must not panic.” I whisper. “I must not panic.” This time I say it louder. I must convince myself.
The noise is very loud out here. The crickets, toads and owls keep the jungle so lively that I can barely hear anything else. I continue walking, slowly, with the machete scanning the ground and then my right foot. I know the way well but the darkness adds an entire dimension to it. I think about blind people having to live every minute of their lives in the shadows.
For the thousandth time, I repeat to myself “I must not panic, I must not panic”. I carry on walking, seeking the clear path. I know I’m very near the 7th Brazil nut tree. I hear a noise and something splashes right behind me. I jump and shout but nothing else happens. I have no idea what it is but I don’t think it is a jaguar.
I’m so terrified that I can’t move. “I must not panic. I must not panic”. I recite the mantra for a few seconds. It works. I breathe deeply and I begin to move forward again.
I trip on something and fall over. I try to get up but my hand hits something hard, wooden. It is not a root, I don’t think. I touch it and it doesn’t feel alive. I hold it with my hands and when I feel how round it is I laugh in relief, it is a Brazil nut shell. I have reached the 7th Brazil nut tree.
I hear the water hitting the leaves and feel the rain falling down my face. I am still damp from jumping into the spring. I don’t want to get even wetter. I sit near the trunk and stay there for a few minutes waiting for the thunder and lightening that are bound to come.

It has been a while since the rain started and I don’t think it will stop tonight. I’m sitting on the ground with my chest against my knees trying to keep some of the body heat that I have still got. Nobody comes this way at this time of the night and there is no one waiting for me at home to notice that I am not there.
Maybe I should carry on. Maybe I should not. The mud will make it all very slippery, hard to keep to the right track. I worry that I will go the wrong way and fall into one of the deep holes that the miners left in their search for gold.
I decide to stay put.
I lean against the 7th Brazil nut tree and using the machete I scrape everything from the ground near me. I move my hands in a circular movement until I know there is nothing other than me there. I try to forget how cold I am.
I think about why am I here. I remember the warmth of my orange soft blanket I had when I was a child. I try to think of wonderful and pleasant memories but my mind wanders back to the present. I have no choice. I must stay here and wait for my fate.
My eyes are heavy. I must not sleep. My thoughts go back to civilization. The memory of my orange blanket mixes with the thought of my mum’s warm bean soup. I can almost taste it in my mouth. I think I am dreaming.
I must not sleep…
The rain stopped and everything comes out to play. The noise is even louder now. There is a toad very near me and I can hear its coaxing so close that I don’t move. Toads usually don’t scare me but right now everything is frightening.
Something jumps on my foot and my mind tells me to freeze. It is cold and wet and when I feel it moving I want to jump. There is no need. It moves away on its own wish. It must be the toad hopping away to somewhere comfier. I bring my feet nearer me. I wonder what would happen if I doze off just a little…
I have lost all notion of time. How long have I been here for? It could have been six minutes; it could have been six hours. The nights are very long in the jungle.
I count my heart beats. I know it beats 72 beats per minute. One, two, three… seven hundred twenty. It seems an eternity.
Counting is not helping. It is making me anxious and even more nervous. I must calm down and let my mind and body synchronize with Nature.
I listen to the jungle again. There are some friendly noises coming from above me. It is probably a monkey-mum comforting her baby. I inhale the pure air and smell the sweet essence of the Brazil nuts that must surround me.
I look around and don’t expect to see anything but the night, somehow, it doesn’t seem so dark anymore. My arms and legs are less tense now and although I am still cold and hungry I feel relaxed.
I feel free. I feel part of the rain forest.
My eyes are so heavy… I can sleep now…
Word count: 1654

Nothing but a Seamstress

by R Vidovix

My aunt Celestrina is nothing but a seamstress. She was born into a family who had no money and lived off the land. When she was eight, while she and her younger brother Virgil were gathering the goats, a snake bit Uncle Virgil and the silly girl, instead of running home to get help, carried him all the way home, and all because he begged her not to leave him alone. While she carried him in a hurry – she was always in a hurry – she fell into a fence and the barbed wire scratched her left eye – she was also very clumsy. By the time she got home, she had not only managed to get her brother bitten by a snake but she was also blind in one eye.

As the time passed, she became less clumsy but she was still doing things in a hurry. She learned to sew and because she was always in a hurry she would finish making a dress faster then the others, even though she should take longer, after all the fabric was expensive and that is how you make dresses. People took pity on her though and could find no fault with her.

When she was twenty-two, one of the labourers, who worked on the same farm as her parents worked, fell ill and although it was none of her business – she was always butting in where she shouldn't – she looked after him for weeks and weeks.

All that waste of time and effort paid off though because the man, who was almost as ugly as her and probably had never experienced a woman's touch in his life, fell in love with her, and a few months later they were married.

Her parents, who always had a soft spot for her, were so pleased. They said that they were so glad that their Celestrina had found someone to be happy with but the truth I guess, is that they never thought for a second that she would be so lucky as to find a man who would take her at all - clumsy, ugly, blind and all.
Within a few months, she was expecting her first child and was over the moon. She gave birth to Walter and from that day on the only thing that mattered was Walter.

When Walter was five, his father fell ill again but this time he got more and more sick and soon died. There was no money left even for the funeral and, if it wasn't for Uncle Virgil, Aunt Celestrina's husband would have been buried in the woods.

Two weeks after her husband died, Aunt Celestrina found out she was pregnant and, so conveniently, she had to move back in with her parents. The child, clumsy like her mother, finally arrived on the worst possible day of the year. It was the harvesting day when all hands were needed. If it wasn't for my mother who, unlike Aunt Celestrina, was pretty, not blind and had married well, she would have died. My mother and one of our maids kindly came to help her give birth to the little girl, who like her parents, was also very ugly, and died seven days later.

Time passed and Celestrina continued living with her parents. People felt sorry for her and often asked her to make their clothes. She made quite a bit of money that way which she stored away.
When Walter was seven, she decided to move to the nearest town because she wanted him to go to school. She could not afford it but again, people took pity on her and someone lent her a room in the back of the butchers and she moved in. She didn't have to pay rent, however. Instead, she had to make sausages with the meat left at the end of the day.

She lived there for almost two years when, one night, she put her finger through the mincing machine – she was still clumsy enough – and lost her job and her room. By this time, she had met a very rich and vain woman who said to her that if she made all her dresses for her, she could live in the small out-house in the back of the garden.

Aunt Celestrina lived there for four years until the woman had to move away. The woman, who was a good soul, had introduced Aunt Celestrina to the tailors and engineered her a job making trousers with them. Walter who had just quit his job as a shoe polisher and was now working as a delivery boy, earned some money that added to her meagre salary was enough to pay the rent of a small room not far from Walter's school.

When Walter was fifteen, a local businessman offered him a job as a cashier in his shop. Walter had been working for the man as a delivery boy for a while and the man knew he was an honest lad. My Aunt Celestrina did not let him take it, though. She said she had bigger plans for him. My Uncle Virgil, who had done well for himself, gave her enough money to pay rent for almost 6 months, but instead she used the money to send Walter to the big city to study more.

Walter, taking after his mother in terms of grandeur, decided to do Medicine. Obviously, Aunt Celestrina who could not afford the fees, also couldn't say 'no'. That was around the time when my Grandparents started complaining that they couldn't live alone much longer. Again, this time even more conveniently, Aunt Celestrina moved back with her parents with the excuse that she was going to look after them, and continued sending every penny to Walter.

She was so obsessed with making money for Walter that she would do housework when it was dark so she could spend the day sewing. Consequently, the house was no longer as clean as everybody else's house. My grandfather, who was blind to my Aunt Celestrina's faults, was always complaining about my Mum and we stopped visiting. Occasionally, when Uncle Virgil came to visit, we would get news that Walter was doing so well or that Grandmother had had another fall.

A few more months passed and one day Uncle Virgil came around to tell Mum that Aunt Celestrina had had a stroke. I was seventeen at the time and I was very annoyed because I was supposed to go to the city to buy a new dress for my cousin's wedding, when we got the news.
Mum, being a good soul that she is, did the shopping in a hurry and left the following day to be by Aunt Celestrina bedside. Uncle Virgil paid for Aunt Celestrina to be looked after in a hospital and being so lucky she didn't die.

Eventually, she recovered, and, if it wasn't for the limping and the weird voice, no one would have noticed anything different. She did become a bit uglier I suppose but she was already so ugly that it was hard to notice.

Walter was in his final year and needed all the money he could get so Aunt Celestrina, now no longer a fast seamstress, had to neglect the housework even more. The kitchen garden needed weeding, the orange and lemon trees needed trimming and they stopped making cheese.

The year passed very slowly and although my Mum went there a couple of times, there was very little she could do.

When Walter finally graduated, they didn't even invite my Mum and that was the last straw. Their excuse was that they only had six invitations. They invited Uncle Virgil and his wife, my grandparents, Aunt Celestrina and Walter's best friend. From that day on, we have not spoken to them. To be honest I can't understand why everyone seems to love and revere Aunt Celestrina. She is nothing but a seamstress.