About This Story

I wrote this short story in celebration of my 17th birthday. It was deliberately intended to be a more "adult"work. A few years ago, I could still look at it without flinching. Right now, no, not really.

The central fantasy in this story, of finding the woman of one's dreams just kind of standing there one day, flirting and teasing, turned into reality two years after I wrote it. I met a real version of the woman I had imagined for this story, and under similar (if you take the jungle to be an allegorical environment) circumstances. I always considered happy union at the end of this story to be forced and somewhat fake. After how the real-life situation turned out, it looks especially unreal.

I note that this story's basic boy-meets-girl situation appears again in L'Artiste et La Modèle , although the similarity is because that screenplay was a fictional retelling ofthe real meeting I had with the woman mentioned above.

---

 

CALL OF THE WILD

An autobiography of noted English author ArthurJ. Gladstone

CHAPTER FIVE

T he bulk of this chapter will be taken directly from the extensive journal I kept during this time rather than from direct reflection. This is because, when I tend to think about this part of my lifetime, I come up with more of a feeling or emotion than a recollection of actual events.

     For those of you who may have skipped to this chapter directly (because it is assuredly the most interesting in the book), at the age of thirty-six I decided I'd had enough of civilization and wanted to rough it for a while. I chose to live in Africa for many rash reasons, none of which very well thought out. Ending up in a remote, tropical jungle several weeks later with only the sparsest amount of supplies and luggage, I had spent several long months trying to throw away all evidence of my former life in Britain. Quite comically I attemped to do away with clothing — it was dashedly humid and stifling, and it seemed at the time to be grandly symbolic of my anti-society views at the time. At first it I convinced myself it was very comfortable and quite natural, but it was not long before I realized that there was more to clothing than just personal shame and morality. The teeming jungles of Africa have some very harsh foliage, and I came away with various cuts, bruises, and rashes. It became more the practice to shed all garments on the hottest days or, occasionally, when I was too lazy to carry my belongings back and forth from the small lake in which I bathed and swam.

     I was keeping a journal of my daily routines and thoughts so I could sort it out later, and I must say it was the most astounding example of forethought I've managed to produce in my lifetime. As it were, time had lost all meaning by the fifth or sixth month, and my journal entries were beginning to sound a bit less exact as I went on: "Just after the last one," "two days later than the previous," "on a rock around sunset," "just before twilight the night after last," "in a tree somewhere during the full moon." I began to imagine them as titles for obscure poetry and had quite a game of it for a time.

     By this time, I had not seen a mirror or even a reflection of myself in still water in such a long time that I'd almost forgotten what human beings looked like. Seeking out companionship I took to playing about with a rather heavy-set gorilla I called Helga. I pretended to take her out for romantic evenings of a picture-show and dinner by candlelight to keep up my morale.

     What I really did, as my journal points out, was to take her to stare at a few banana trees during the afternoon hours, and when we got tired of that routine I'd lead Helga to the lake and try to teach her to wash herself more often. Gradually, as the concept of humans vs. animals became more and more blurred in my mind, and which I did not consciously notice happening, Helga began to look more and more attractive. I see now that I was badly deluded, but I had in fact done what I'd set out to do — throw out all previous conceptions and ideals and start over from scratch. It is because of this frame of mind that my discovery that steamy African afternoon was made all the more vivid.

     On with the story.

*****

//Journal- Sitting in my cot with my dreams

My god. I have just seen the most beautiful creaturein the world. At first I wondered if it were not simply the sun playingtricks with my eyes again, but now I am convinced she was very, very real.

I was crossing the clearing outside my shelter whenI heard a rustling beyond some bushes to the northwest (near Helga's tree).When I looked over I saw a young girl (perhaps in her early twenties, thoughI am not sure) leisurely walking through the jungle. She was decidedly non-African,at least not a native inhabitant, but I hadn't until just now wondered ofher origins. Perhaps European? Perhaps British? I did not hear her uttera word so I cannot be sure.

Because of the large leaves blocking my view I couldonly see her waist-up, but since then I have created a perfect image ofher legs in my mind. I only saw her for a minute as she passed by, but shehas not ... I cannot seem to get her out of my mind. Not even the most fleetingthought has not carried her image. I have never been so enchanted in allmy life, and I know I shall never never be again. My hands tremble evenas I write this.

Though I could never capture her true beauty with wordson paper, I should do something to record in what light I saw her in caseshe does not appear ever again. She was dressed lightly, for today has beenone of the most humid since I arrived, and I would venture to say one themost humid in African history. Her flowing blonde hair rested lightly onthe pale blouse she was wearing, and in a total exaggeration of jungle wearshe had small white gloves on and carried a parasol. There is not enoughdirect sunlight in most parts of the jungle (though when I saw her she stoodin a beautiful glow of sunlight from above), and what with the humiditysurely carrying such a thing would be more trouble than it is worth. Yet,I digress. I do not recall if she was wearing makeup of any kind, but ifshe were I know for a fact she needs no such embellishments on her naturalbeauty.

Unfortunately, I do not seem to be able to describeher at all well-- her image is burned into my head, much like how lookingat the sun directly causes spots to linger on the eyes for some time, andit is too vivid for me to... ah, I will have to return to my journal later,I must rest now, and surely she will come to me in my dreams as well.

//Journal- Day 2 ^*

I have just awakened by Helga pounding on the edgeof my cot. I must record the dream I just had-- she was in it. I was trappedin a very dark place, a maze, a labyrinth. I had no light and I could notfind my way through without stumbling into dead ends. Suddenly, she appearedagain. She was wearing light, flowing robes, and did not touch the floor.She merely hovered lightly above it. She silently took me by the hand andled me swiftly through the tunnels. We came to the exit and down a longcorridor was a very bright light. We moved closer and closer and I was nearingthe light, hands outstretched, when I was awakened by Helga's hard rappingon my bed. I missed our daily rendezvous and she is just upset at not followingour regular routine, but in a moment of fun I might think that she is jealousthat I was looking at another girl. Helga suddenly looks very, very, ugly,and her sight almost repulses me. I have seen the perfect human, and I cannotreturn to my former sensibilities.

//Journal- Day 6

She returned today, and she was as lovely as before.I must admit she caught me at a compromising moment, for I was returningfrom a wash at the lake and was not wearing a stitch of clothing. Perhapsit was this fact or just that her gaze was wandering but she returned myglances today. I stood there, a bit wet as I'd left my towel here, and shestood just beyond the vegetation where I'd seen her almost a week ago. Allof the thoughts I had been having about her since then suddenly solidifiedin my mind, she was real, and now she knew I existed also. A cool breezedried the water on my back and made me shiver, and it was then that I rememberedI wasn't wearing anything, not even my shorts. I flushed a little, thoughI did not feel particularly shameful, and she noticed this and smiled withalmost a girlish giggle. We stood there, perhaps 20 or 30 feet from oneanother, just looking at each other. Perhaps it was 2 minutes, perhaps anhour, time was lost. Finally she turned to leave, and she seemed to movein slow motion. Her hair gently spun and floated down onto her shouldersas she walked back the way she came, a light spring in her step, thoughthat might have been my imagination.

I stood there for at least another 5 minutes beforeI realized she had gone, and then I came in here to write my thoughts down.I now need to dry off and put some clothes on.

//Journal- Days 7-21

I decided I would start running out of journal pagesif I kept writing down every thought I have every time I see her, so I haven'twritten for 2 weeks. What I shall say about these past two weeks is thather visits have become steadily more frequent, and I now see her daily.Helga has been sulking the entire time, but by now I could care less. Ihave fallen in love with someone who I have never even touched. I was inlove before, but never like this. Perhaps all of this talking to myselfthrough the diary will help me sort out my memories 20 years from now, butfor anyone else reading this it would be impossible to describe how I feelexcept to someone else as deeply in love.

//Journal- Day 21

That was how I felt until today's encounter, whichneeds an entry all its own. Perhaps all of this fanciful flirting (thoughI hate to use the word, but it seems the most appropriate) of the past 3weeks has caused her to be a bit more daring, but it may have been justthat it was another searingly hot day.

Ah, how should I describe it. For one, I had takento sitting at a higher vantage point when I waited for her to arrive soI could see all of her (her legs, which turned out to be as I pictured them).She was quite punctual in her visits, I found out, and I began keeping awatch handy so I could tell when she'd be by. Surely my whole process ofthrowing away society's restraints such as time and date were forced backupon me after I saw her. My life does, in fact, revolve around her.

I am having too many thoughts at once. I should describethis meeting before my imagination embellishes it over time. I saw her whileshe was still far down the path, and I hate to say I have become accustomedto seeing her and that the effect of seeing her is dulled, for it stillas stunning, but I did not take notice at first of the way she was dressed.Or undressed, one might say.

I was, however, watching her legs move today, and shewas wearing a much shorter skirt today than the usual lengthy dress. Itwas because of this that I noticed she was also barefoot. My gaze followedup her waist and to her torso. I think my eyes may actually have buggedout, but I felt my blood pressure go up a bit. She was not wearing a shirt,well, that is not exactly right, for she had it tied around her neck withthe sleeves dangling down over her chest. She was humming faintly, and stoppedat her usual spot with a slight bounce. For the first time I felt a strongphysical attraction to her. Though I was in love with her and have admiredher beauty for all this time, I never thought of her as an object of lust,strangely enough. It never occurred to me to "undress her with my eyes",strangely enough. But I did feel strongly aroused at this moment. As ifin answer to this, she raised her arms above her head and turned slowlyaround.

The sunlight was particularly soft and glowing today,and she was bathed in the bright light. Her skin was a soft peach colour,and so smooth. Ahh, this is definitely a new direction for our curious relationship.She left almost immediately after, but before doing so untied the sleevesfrom her neck and placed the blouse gently upon the large leaves that alwaysstood frustratingly in front of my view. When she had gone, I picked upthe garment and felt the material gently. It was slightly perfumed, andnothing I have encountered until now has smelled so sweet.

As a bit of a joke, I think I shall leave a pair ofpants out there for her to take home as a souvenir tomorrow.

//Journal- Day 24

Will she never stop tantalizing me? She appeared yesterdayand the day before that fully clothed, as usual, but of course having seenher without a shirt has led me to do just what I said hadn't occurred tome to do before-- imagine her without clothes. The sight of her fully dressednow seems .. ah, how should I put it? Imagine someone giving you a peekinside a box so that your curiosity is peaked, but before you have a goodlook at it he shuts it away, wraps it up, and gives it to you with the label"DO NOT OPEN" written on it. Ah, well, I feel now that she almostreads my mind.

She appeared today in simply a one-piece, light, whitedress. Her shoulders and arms were bare and she was moving through the jungleon the now well-worn path in a floating, easy sort of way. It reminded meof how she hovered in the first dream I had with her. She was again barefoot,and I wondered how she managed to keep them from being bruised and scrapedon the harsh soil.

I was a little off-guard when she appeared, becauseshe arrived earlier than usual. I was sitting on a rock outside my shelter,thinking about her, of course, when I saw the bushes rustling of to thenorthwest. I checked my watch in disbelief, but it was surely her. She stoodjust beyond those annoying bushes, which more than once I have wanted touproot, and smiled to me, waving. I waved back, my heart pounding with emotion.She always seems so happy and full of life. I stood up then and steppedforward toward her a little, almost subconsciously. It was always a sortof unspoken rule that neither of us made any physical advances toward eachother, but somehow I was feeling particularly drawn to her. I stopped, butshe did something unexpected. Perhaps she was feeling the same attraction,or maybe it was another example of her reading my mind.

She stepped past the large, green leaves and into the clearing. I now sawher fully in front of me, and she her happy smile almost tunrned into awild look of lust. I looked at her again. The sun was a little behind her,and the light material of her dress seemed almost translucent. I could seeher smooth form underneath, and I began to wonder, maybe a little childishly,if she were wearing any undergarments. Her beauty seemed so natural, andI was following her smooth curves with my eyes.

And then, almost as if she knew exactly what I wantedto see, she lifted the straps of her dress off of her shoulders and letgo, gravity pulling the loose garment to her ankles. There she stood infront of me, perfectly nude. I would not venture to say naked, because thatwas not how she appeared to me. I stared at her, entranced once more, myface undoubtedly flushed by her daring and, of course, her wondrously perfectbody. I suddenly felt very warm, and raised my hand to my forehead to wipethe sweat from my brow, but it shielded my eyes from her for a brief moment.When I let my hand drop, she was gone. Only the leaves swaying silentlyback into place signalled her departure.

She left her dress behind. I wonder now where she livesand with what sort of family that she could come prancing back home withouta stitch of clothing. I gave some thought at the time about following herhome to see where she lived, but somehow having the whole business so enigmaticmakes the whole relationship more exciting. I wonder just what she thinksabout me.

//Journal- Day 25
We made love today. She is still here as I write this, and I still do notknow her name, but we are now as close as two human beings have or, as faras I am concerned, will be.

She made her daily appearance today just as she hadbeen yesterday, nude. I was amazed at the thought that she could actuallybe prancing about in the jungle without any clothes to excite someone who,for all intents and purposes, is a total stranger to her. She stopped inthe sunlight and the warm glow on her shoulders did so much to enhance herbeauty. Again I am amazed at how natural her beauty seems to be, consideringthe overdressed stock of our first encounter. Still, today was very warm,and I was wearing only my trusty shorts. I was standing just outside myshelter at first, but I felt myself moving closer to her. My mind was inthe clouds and my body was moving under a will of its own. She advancedthrough the foliage and walked slowly toward me. We met in the middle ofthe clearing and embraced each other as two lovers reunited at long last.Rather reluctantly we tore ourselves apart and looked at each other again.Before I could collect my thoughts, passion took over again and we werelocked in a very passionate kiss.

I hate to go into detail so as not to sound like oneof those cheap romance novels, but before I knew it she had forcefully removedmy shorts and we rolled around right there in the grass for god knows howlong. The next thing I recall we somehow made it inside and onto my cot.I think I may be able to repair the damaged legs later tonight.

*****

 

That last journal entry was the first I had not done immediately after an "encounter". We made love until I absolutely could not move any more and sank ito an exhausted sleep. By the time I awoke, which was not very long after, she was bustling happily about my shelter, tidying it up. As I was scribbling in my journal she began nibbling my right — or was it my left? ear and I had to put it down again. I did not write a coherent journal entry for at least a month after that. Next chapter I shall deal with where our relationship ended up and how I found out just where she came from.

Through a burst of arrogance and the need to mark this as a turning point in my life (which it was), I started logging journal entries by days with Day 1 being the first day I saw her, though I did not think of it until the second day.