Isaac and The Leopard: The conclusion
February 26, 2009
(Continued from Part 1 PART 2 and PART 3 )
Weeds tore away in brutish separation, Isaac’s lunge ripping them from body and root. The water seemed to recede as much as Isaac rose; the world falling out from under his leap. Alarmed, the Leopard sought the air; Isaac reached and reached, forcing the meat of palm into the Leopards path, his long fingers closed shut around it .The world returned with force, sending the tree stump hard into Isaac’s stretched and open ribs. The branches pulled long strips from his side, the impact splintering his breath painfully throughout his chest. Isaac gasped and clung to the Leopard as both tumbled into the murky water.
The pond’s chorus returned; a spray of birds and grasshoppers taking flight punctuated the rising keen. Isaac was too focused on his prize to note the change in song. The alarm.
Isaac swam to the bank, sore and slowed by his clenched fist paddling. The Leopard made an indistinct gurgle in protest of its capture. Isaac loosed his grip and peered through the gap between finger and thumb; The Leopard “urrrpp’d” a final warning. Immune to appeal or epiphany, Isaac held the leopard tighter: a hunter did not give up his prize. Letting out an exultant whoop Isaac began to scale the bank.
The first rock sent the hunter spinning away. The second dug a deep groove in the side of Isaac’s head. Isaac touched the wound and couldn’t make sense of the blood. A third rock grazed his cheek.
“Fucking freak…the fuck you doing in our yard!”
A pack of older boys burst through the reeds, their long legs churning the shallow water to mud. Isaac tried to explain, to show he belonged, but they were too many and too suddenly upon him. The first punch closed his eyes and spilled the Leopard from his open palm. Nails raked his neck and back, Isaac stumbled and was forced down into the water. The muck of the pond filled his throat; the bottom refused him purchase to rise.
Slow knees thudded into his ribs and pressed him down into the mud. Even crushed into the silt he could hear their raucous laughter, their taunts, deeper for passage through the water. A sick frustration burned in Isaac’s chest. Eventually, the weight of the older boys lifted; Isaac dug his hand into the bank and fought to keep from rising, gasping in stinging lungfuls of water: let them be murderers. Isaacs’s chest burned, black spots filled his vision; panicked hands clawed him from the bottom, pulled him roughly over the bank, through the reeds, to the neatly manicured lawn beyond.
The boys gathered in a cluster around Isaacs twitching body. The oldest fought past Isaacs’s thin, flailing, limbs to pound his back. Isaac clenched his eyes against the hot tears, and his jaw against the rising gorge; another hard blow loosed them both. Isaac gagged vomit and pond water onto the grass, his traitorous lungs spasming out the last of his surrender. His deifance. Isaac shook and wept, staring furiously at the ground, wishing he was within it.
The ring of boys fell away like leaves, like ash; stirred by the backwash of remorse that sudden cruelty brings. Isaac was left alone and defeated, the pond denied him. He lay a while, wondering at his loss, then crawled to his feet and made his way home. The Leopard was forgotten.
****
February 27, 2009 at 10:39 am
Wow. My first reaction was something approximating glee given that there is no justice like mob justice, but considering the severity of Isaac’s beating and the fact that it’s doubtful the kids who dished it out cared about anything more in the moment than beating him up (not a frog-saver among them, methinks) I now feel like a jerk for laughing.
I went back to see if there was any definite indication of what Isaac would do to the frog once it was caught — I assumed malicious intent but there is a passage about “honouring” the frog once it’s caught which is open to interpretation (in my mind it implies some kind of sacrifice but that could just be me…), and although Isaac is referred to as a hunter, one definition of the term simply means one who seeks something. Sometimes kids catch frogs just for the sake of catching them.
So, lots to think about. Well done.
February 28, 2009 at 5:18 pm
This whole story was awesome. I love the ambiguity. I might come back next year and thieve it for a short story unit…or…ask politely and pay royalties…and…stuff.
March 9, 2009 at 1:28 am
I read this when it was first posted and have been ruminating.
The writing is, as always, fluid, evocative, engaging. Too many great moments to name them all but some details…
Isaac remains utterly true to himself. The drama, the intensity. I mean “let them be murderers” ? Perfect. This is his world and story until it isn’t anymore, until it is taken away from him… The fact that even lying there, having nearly drowned, he sees no connection between hunting and being hunted… I really admire how consistently his character is drawn.
And the hunter becoming the hunted is played to strong effect here.. I kind of want one more hint, I think, besides ” Isaac was too focused on his prize to note the change in song. The alarm.” The pond could just as soon be in an uproar because Isaac finally lunged as because there are invaders on the move…
The pain and confusion of that first rock would, maybe, be even more palpable if there were the tiniest bit more foreshadowing that Isaac is not the only human being in this moment…
I think this feeling is also born of the fact that for all the other sections of the story it is the pond itself which is set up as possible enemy so that I crave one more line to transition away from the fantasy of that into the reality and cruelty of those boys and their rocks… I dunno’ though.
There is only one line that truly caught me out in a negative way and that was the “meat of palm”. I feel the impulse and get the image, I think, but it takes his boyhood away from him somehow to give his palm “meat” and – for me anyway – undermines his victory… I don’t know if that makes any sense.
“The ring of boys fell away like leaves, like ash” I love the imagery here. I am trying it in my head with just “ash”, though and wondering if I might like it better that way?
“Isaac touched the wound and couldn’t make sense of the blood.” This line, for some reason both now and when I first read it – is profoundly moving. I can feel the bewilderment. It is like the ultimate comment on violence, all-the-more poignant because of the leopard’s narrow escape… (Also, because I am regularly experiencing my son’s bewilderment at the random cruelty of other children… He is genuinely stunned and it hurts me in so many ways…)
I really think the imagery, the pacing, the cohesiveness of character and narrative make this one of the better pieces I’ve read round these parts, Valliant, enviably good…
Bravissimo!
March 9, 2009 at 2:21 am
” I kind of want one more hint, I think, besides ” Isaac was too focused on his prize to note the change in song. The alarm.” The pond could just as soon be in an uproar because Isaac finally lunged as because there are invaders on the move…”
I definitely agree with this. I had decided this was going to be the last part, and had a preset length in mind (to try an match the others somewhat) so I rushed the transition a little. It’s one of the challenges when I write episodic pieces like this: there are certain amount of beats you feel obligated to put into each one, so you wind up abridging or padding out certain transitions and moments to match the format.
“There is only one line that truly caught me out in a negative way and that was the “meat of palm””
It’s uncanny how you zero in on my compromises. You always make note of the parts I feel are particularity strong, and the parts I was unsure of but left in anyways.
I was going for a term that emphasized his brute materiality, but I think it was too strong a shift in imagery for the setting.
If I ever submit this I’m going to try and rework both the sections you brought to light.
You are ever appreciated, Sulya.
March 9, 2009 at 2:29 am
“This whole story was awesome. I love the ambiguity. I might come back next year and thieve it for a short story unit…or…ask politely and pay royalties…and…stuff.”
Thank you, K. You are more than welcome to use it for the low, low price of potentially leading children into the dark part of the forest, and a vague mention of the author.
March 9, 2009 at 2:32 am
“Sometimes kids catch frogs just for the sake of catching them. ”
Without removing all the ambiguity: Isaac’s hands are not entirely clean.