Paper

Written 56-E19 [2024-11-28], Edited 56-E19 [2024-11-28]

Image credit: Twitter Twemoji

Paper is one of Homo Sapiens‘ subtle and omnipresent inventions. A tiny sheet, lighter than a feather and smaller than a sling, could have enough markings to record an entire conversation. But for good or ill, I am not a member of that curious, imaginative, vicious species.

I am a Neanderthal.

I was thinking about the wonderful properties of paper while waiting for some fried chicken from Jollibee’s. I had ordered a 10 piece bucket, which was a light meal given my body mass and lifestyle.

The world is so complicated.

Paper. Markings. Buckets. Body masses. Artifacts representing smiling bees almost as tall as myself.

I started at the paper in my hands. I tried not to think about all the noises and activity around me. So many people. So many Sapiens.

The paper in my hands was a record of my trade. These beings, these Sapiens, trade a lot and record it all. I traded a 50 dollar slip for some food that was not ready to eat yet, and some more slips and flat circle known as “coins”.

My stomach growled loudly. Some of the people stopped to stare at me, the giant, the ogre with the limitless appetite. But they went back to their chatter and meals after a second.

I focused on the paper.

Focus!

I could see the symbol representing “five” followed by the symbol representing “none”. That meant “fifty” which is five people who each have ten fingers. But I wasn’t counting fingers I was counting… dollars! Yes, there was the dollar sign.

But those were only 3 symbols. This paper had enough symbols to form a family. Or to form a tribe. Or to form what, in Sapiens terms, was a small town.

There are more symbols on this paper than Neanderthals alive on this world, I thought. Something about that made me fearful and sick.

My species had been extinct for a long time. But the Sapiens, not content to kill, also seeked to create life. With some ancient blood, some tools too small to see, and some extremely courageous surrogate mothers, a group of Sapiens led by Doctor Nichols brought my kind back into the world.

Doctor Nichols felt that a single Neanderthal might get lonely among billions of Sapiens. She wanted to raise fifty Neanderthals from birth to adulthood. But only five of the pregnancies ended in births.

And the result of one of these five was waiting awkwardly in a fried chicken restaurant, towering over the other customer and trying not to hit his head on the ceiling.

One of the staff said something and gestured towards me. I can be a bit slow at understanding Sapiens language. But eye contact, waves, fingers pointed at me and a bucket of bird flesh were easy enough.

I picked up the tray with the bucket and tried to find an empty table. I would need an entire table to myself - quite an inconvenience for the other customers.

I felt like I was living in a lie in that moment.

This wasn’t where I belonged. Trading slips of “dollars” for food, looking for a table that was too small for my body, in a world where my ancestors were despised, while trying to understand markings on a paper!

Why was I even alive?

It was the question nobody wanted to answer.

Why?

Why exist?

Why live, in this dying world where entire species disappear?

Why live, as the survivor of a forgotten breed?

Why live, if I couldn’t even eat a meal without returning to the question?

“WHY?” I roared out loud, like a bear defending his territory.

Suddenly all the dimunitive Sapiens customers stared at me. No speaking, no eating, just staring. After a second of silence, they immediately ran past me, around me, behind me, all trying to get to the only door out. Some didn’t even finishe their various greasy foods, they fled like a herd of deer into the concrete clearing.

I felt awful for interrupting their meal, for making a scene, for marking myself out as a beastly, frightening Neanderthal.

But I also found some grim satisfaction in the fact that I now had every table to myself.

Notes

This is set in the same universe as Fatty & Kingdom.