It was early morning. The slightest rays of the sun began to peek out over the water and wash up onto the beach, as they had been doing on beaches like this one for the last hundred thousand years. Though other lands would call the current time the sixteenth century, time had yet to creep across these coasts. The same sky that hovered over the dinosaurs loomed over this sand; the same water they drank gently spilled upon the shoreline. As the day was slowly born again, the sun illuminated the creatures bubbling with life in the ocean and on the shore. Rolls of water gently rushed through the air as it washed up the beach. Morning seagulls sang overhead. Everything else was bathed in the pure silence radiating from the earth. Ancient fish scattered, crabs burrowed into the sand, and a little girl walked up the beach with a long stick in her hand.
She was nude except for a head of messy black hair. The end of the stick dug into the sand and traced the lines of her path as her soft feet took small steps. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven, but she walked the beach without a second thought, since she had left footprints there many times. Concepts of survival, knowledge of topography, and respect for nature were bestowed upon the children in her tribe from the day of their first steps. Living on these shores, her movements here were always safe, calm, thoughtful. Her head stayed down and mapped the generations that had been there that morning by the tiny indentations of claws and feet they etched into the sand. Water rolled up periodically and wiped those markings clean.
But one marking didn’t erode so easily, and when the little girl came upon it, she was perplexed. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, a skulking print trying to mask its existence. It looked similar to her own footprints, but much larger and rounder. While her foot left the intricacies of little toes and a deep heel, this print left nothing. It was flat on the sand, smooth and curved. She knelt down and touched the inside of the footprint, measuring its precision with her small digits. Her heart thumped with the desire to be able to create something that perfect.
She looked up to see another print just a few feet away with dimensions just as exact as the last one. Crawling to this one on her hands and knees, she left her stick behind, and then saw another, and yet another after that. Her hands dug deep into the sand and pushed her body up onto its feet, and she started to run along this line of footprints, following them to their origin. There was nothing else within sight on the beach, but these fresh tracks meant that something was still there. Her pumping legs slowed to a hesitant stalk. She proceeded cautiously along the shoreline, checking all around her after every few steps. The thoughts were so confusing, as images ran through her mind, trying to match a creature to those prints. She didn’t know what kind of creature had hooves like this, and her curiosity led her on.
They drew her to the edge of the beach where a large cliff elevated off the land. A sliver of sand extended around the rocky wall, and with it, the tracks. The girl stayed close to the wall and moved slowly. She didn’t disturb those footprints but instead made her own, the former being too beautiful to injure. The water splashed onto her feet and legs and she maneuvered the narrow path of sand. Her hand used the coarse texture of the wall to steady herself as her head stayed down, following the trail. She could no longer hear the seagulls; they were too far away.
The wall curved back inward towards the land and the little girl looked up to see it again bending outward towards the ocean after a small pool of water. Her eyes sank back down to the sand, glued to the footprints, the indentations of precision.
The oddly textured sand led her towards a concave clearing walled in with red rock. That’s where the creature stood as though waiting for her. It didn’t notice her at first, but its eyes looked focused on something out over the sea.
A surge like a thunderbolt shot through the little girl as her eyes examined every detail of the foreign animal. Its skin was much lighter than hers, or even that of her mother, but the dark hair on its face seemed somehow masculine. The beast was taller than anything she had seen before, and garbed in exotic coverings from head to toe. A bright animal skin of some kind encrusted with small, shiny rocks covered the torso. The large paws were hairless, whiter than the suds of the sea, and the legs were thick and brown. The black head covering didn’t look like those the villagers wore. It bowed to fit the black hair encased underneath and the contours of the creature’s skull.
As her eyes moved down his body, they locked on his hooves. They were tough and leathery, like dolphin hide. Those were the hooves that she’d followed. They appeared rounded, thick, and strong enough to crush down through the earth. The girl looked down at her own fragile feet and was ashamed of their imperfections. She looked back at the footprints in the grainy sand behind her. The large ones still sunk proudly into the earth, while the fresh prints had faded just as quickly as they were created.
When she looked back, she was overwhelmed with humility and fear. The colors were more dazzling than anything she had ever seen before, and the way they echoed off the rock walls made the figure look like a thousand fish glistening beneath the sunlight. Radiating color and posture dwarfed her against the rock wall, elevating this creature to godlike status in her mind. She didn’t know what she was doing here or why she had followed those footprints, but her insides sank.
Finally, the creature noticed her. Its eyes turned from the rocks and the ocean down to those wide eyes searching for an explanation. It was looking at her now, her body frozen in place, and the creature whispered softly, “Dios mio.” The words made her shudder with the fear of hearing the powerful, incomprehensible words of a deity. He smiled, showing off two rows of pearls, and slowly extended his hand to her. “¿Hay otros, chiquita?”
Her head and hands were shaking now. The girl couldn’t feel anything except the harsh breeze of the ocean leaning on her back. The figure came toward her and she turned away, only to be more frightened by the sea. On her once familiar ocean now stalked great birds. How did she not see them before? Even in the distance, the wings were enormous, though they remained still as the beasts glided across the ocean. They were the giant wooden heads of leviathans peeking out over the waves, dancing across the water as though they owned it.
Her lips quivered and her eyes watered, but she didn’t know why. The breeze sweeping off the ocean chilled her bare legs as it never had before. When she felt the massive hand rest on her shoulder she ran, as fast as she could, from the alcove and down the beach. A bellowing laugh echoed along the shore. As her little feet pit-patted fast as they could back through the sand, she looked back over the ocean just once. The birds stalking the horizon were growing larger.
She was nude except for a head of messy black hair. The end of the stick dug into the sand and traced the lines of her path as her soft feet took small steps. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven, but she walked the beach without a second thought, since she had left footprints there many times. Concepts of survival, knowledge of topography, and respect for nature were bestowed upon the children in her tribe from the day of their first steps. Living on these shores, her movements here were always safe, calm, thoughtful. Her head stayed down and mapped the generations that had been there that morning by the tiny indentations of claws and feet they etched into the sand. Water rolled up periodically and wiped those markings clean.
But one marking didn’t erode so easily, and when the little girl came upon it, she was perplexed. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, a skulking print trying to mask its existence. It looked similar to her own footprints, but much larger and rounder. While her foot left the intricacies of little toes and a deep heel, this print left nothing. It was flat on the sand, smooth and curved. She knelt down and touched the inside of the footprint, measuring its precision with her small digits. Her heart thumped with the desire to be able to create something that perfect.
She looked up to see another print just a few feet away with dimensions just as exact as the last one. Crawling to this one on her hands and knees, she left her stick behind, and then saw another, and yet another after that. Her hands dug deep into the sand and pushed her body up onto its feet, and she started to run along this line of footprints, following them to their origin. There was nothing else within sight on the beach, but these fresh tracks meant that something was still there. Her pumping legs slowed to a hesitant stalk. She proceeded cautiously along the shoreline, checking all around her after every few steps. The thoughts were so confusing, as images ran through her mind, trying to match a creature to those prints. She didn’t know what kind of creature had hooves like this, and her curiosity led her on.
They drew her to the edge of the beach where a large cliff elevated off the land. A sliver of sand extended around the rocky wall, and with it, the tracks. The girl stayed close to the wall and moved slowly. She didn’t disturb those footprints but instead made her own, the former being too beautiful to injure. The water splashed onto her feet and legs and she maneuvered the narrow path of sand. Her hand used the coarse texture of the wall to steady herself as her head stayed down, following the trail. She could no longer hear the seagulls; they were too far away.
The wall curved back inward towards the land and the little girl looked up to see it again bending outward towards the ocean after a small pool of water. Her eyes sank back down to the sand, glued to the footprints, the indentations of precision.
The oddly textured sand led her towards a concave clearing walled in with red rock. That’s where the creature stood as though waiting for her. It didn’t notice her at first, but its eyes looked focused on something out over the sea.
A surge like a thunderbolt shot through the little girl as her eyes examined every detail of the foreign animal. Its skin was much lighter than hers, or even that of her mother, but the dark hair on its face seemed somehow masculine. The beast was taller than anything she had seen before, and garbed in exotic coverings from head to toe. A bright animal skin of some kind encrusted with small, shiny rocks covered the torso. The large paws were hairless, whiter than the suds of the sea, and the legs were thick and brown. The black head covering didn’t look like those the villagers wore. It bowed to fit the black hair encased underneath and the contours of the creature’s skull.
As her eyes moved down his body, they locked on his hooves. They were tough and leathery, like dolphin hide. Those were the hooves that she’d followed. They appeared rounded, thick, and strong enough to crush down through the earth. The girl looked down at her own fragile feet and was ashamed of their imperfections. She looked back at the footprints in the grainy sand behind her. The large ones still sunk proudly into the earth, while the fresh prints had faded just as quickly as they were created.
When she looked back, she was overwhelmed with humility and fear. The colors were more dazzling than anything she had ever seen before, and the way they echoed off the rock walls made the figure look like a thousand fish glistening beneath the sunlight. Radiating color and posture dwarfed her against the rock wall, elevating this creature to godlike status in her mind. She didn’t know what she was doing here or why she had followed those footprints, but her insides sank.
Finally, the creature noticed her. Its eyes turned from the rocks and the ocean down to those wide eyes searching for an explanation. It was looking at her now, her body frozen in place, and the creature whispered softly, “Dios mio.” The words made her shudder with the fear of hearing the powerful, incomprehensible words of a deity. He smiled, showing off two rows of pearls, and slowly extended his hand to her. “¿Hay otros, chiquita?”
Her head and hands were shaking now. The girl couldn’t feel anything except the harsh breeze of the ocean leaning on her back. The figure came toward her and she turned away, only to be more frightened by the sea. On her once familiar ocean now stalked great birds. How did she not see them before? Even in the distance, the wings were enormous, though they remained still as the beasts glided across the ocean. They were the giant wooden heads of leviathans peeking out over the waves, dancing across the water as though they owned it.
Her lips quivered and her eyes watered, but she didn’t know why. The breeze sweeping off the ocean chilled her bare legs as it never had before. When she felt the massive hand rest on her shoulder she ran, as fast as she could, from the alcove and down the beach. A bellowing laugh echoed along the shore. As her little feet pit-patted fast as they could back through the sand, she looked back over the ocean just once. The birds stalking the horizon were growing larger.
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