A Savage Life

Darrel led me down the hall. Said hall was a neutral, light colored blue, with a splash of green here or there, with no doors beyond what the eyes can see, but there were dozens of people though, standing there, grinning as wide as Darrel, and calling me, drum roll please, Neanderthal. Well, save for the one lady who explained to her young daughter that, “I was not a wild species of bald ape, but an Australopithecine, a brutal creature of the fifteenth to the twenty-seventh centuries.” Funny, given how the man with the clipboard connotates me as a Neanderthal, and the fact that these people look no different than me, save for the odd feeling that something was off with them physically, but I never really pay attention to people’s looks, only my instincts, and at the moment, they wanted me to run.

I crept like an animal after Darrel the whole time, not seeing a window in sight, and getting frustrated of everyone addressing me “Neanderthal.” If I ever hear that word again, it will be too soon.

The tiles were a sandy beige color, and the walls were teal giving the feel of a calming ocean. It was almost as if someone was trying to inadvertently keep the peace around here without using sheer force or intimidation tactics. It did nothing to curb the growing anxiety that this whole place felt wrong inside me.

It wasn’t long before the hallway opened up it’s invisible, sliding doors and Darrel led me into a small, cramped room with several men with wide, creepy grins looking as if they were getting ready to do a well-choreographed dance for us, which gladly, they were not. Their hands were clasped together, their feet shuffling towards us in unison, and behind them, a table with only a glowing ring the size of my wedding band. A man approached me, his chocolate hair illuminating his flashy sweatpants and his purple sweater as he stood before me with his perfect, pearly whites. His purple flip-flops and gigantic smile said it all that he would have me next. And by the other men silently standing there like models, still smiling, you could tell that the man in front of me was obviously the leader of the pack.

He addressed me first, greeting, “I am Trey and I will be cleansing you today.”

He held out his hand to me, and Darrel grabbed it and pushed it back towards Trey before announcing, “Subject 2 8 6 is a Neanderthal. They have no formalities.”

And just like that, Trey’s gleaming eyes and dying smile looked of that like a child being forced to do chores on a Sunday morning. I guess mine would too if somebody told me that the person beside them was just an ape. Then again, I’m the kind of person that would kick someone through a wall for saying that about anyone, nevertheless myself, but as I can see, I don’t see myself sadly doing that to any one of these people here. Especially Darrel.

Trey looked up at Darrel and said, “You know that I am not allowed to touch him. Give him back to the scientists. He’s their problem.”

A problem? Scientists? What’s going on here? Why was Trey eyeing me like an Area 51 escapee? Perhaps I really was, I’ve been a star witness to many strange things in life. Maybe not Bigfoot or aliens, but freaks incidents

“The scientists had instructed me to bring him to you for cleansing, and to Anastasia for dressing. You may review my notes if you would like.” Darrel replied.

Trey hastily snatched away the clipboard, commanded the clipboard to see Darrel’s notes and gasped at what he had read.

“Although this is very strange,” Trey said, looking up. “I must commence immediate orders. I hope that whatever they have planned will not backfire on me, as you contain knowledge of how I feel about the process of dying.”

And he grabbed me behind my back and pulled me toward the men. Darrel said nothing, but he, like Trey and the men, kept a continuous grin on his face.

Trey picked up the glowing, blue ring, and another man took out a monitor to scan me and analyze my height and weight so the ring could be adjusted accordingly. This was all done in a flash, until it came time to open the ring and reassuring me (for once speaking to me like an adult and not stupid and two) what would happen when the ring passed through me. Several men set me up into the correct posture, and one man set up the ground underneath me to levitate, allowing the men to levitate too. There was enough pull to stabilize me in one spot and allow the men to appear as if they are walking on literal thin air. Trey approached me and slid the ring down from the top of my head and swung it under my feet. The sensation felt good, like I had just exited a hot shower. One of the men brought me a mirror and asked me to gaze into it.

I looked in the mirror- There I was with a shaved beard (Something I had been meaning to do in a month), combed hair, a nice trim, my back acne felt gone, my nose felt empty of mucus, the sweat and grime from the rig had vanished, as had several oil stains, and a nice smell was wafting from my whole exterior. I was still naked though, but at least I could say I was clean! And I felt proud of myself.

Trey and Darrel stood in front of me and looked me up and down. I looked at them, getting a good look at their faces, and had I anything in hand, I would have dropped it at what I soon figured out- they had no pupils! It was as if they never existed. Or maybe they altered their looks like women with make-up and fake contacts? Maybe, if I’m lucky, this was an elaborate prank on their part. I still had mine, and unless I have a vivid imagination, I could have sworn that the human race had pupils. Trey and Darrel look like me, only without pupils. Nobody else in this room, besides me, had pupils. What were they? If it wasn’t for the levitation holding me in place, I probably would be long gone by now.

I said nothing, but the way Trey and Darrel are looking at me, despite their creepy smiles, told me they knew what I thought about them, and Trey looked even less happy about it, which surprisingly made me feel horrible, because he’s the only one who hasn’t called me a Neanderthal or spoken to me like I’m five.

“Do not worry, Neanderthal,” Darrel spoke. “It is only a slight evolution into becoming extraordinary beings. A piece of the human experience.”

Yeah, if the human experience meant looking like a freak.

“I think it’s time you leave, Darrel.” Trey said nervously.

Oh, I thought Charles Darwin meant for us all to embrace our future selves as we change into the ultimate apex predator. Apparently not here anymore.

“It is now time I take you to see Anastasia.” Darrel told me, pushing me out the door as fast as he could.

Trey spoke not a single word, but he rushed to close the door behind us, melting it back into the hallway scenery. Darrel added more notes to his clipboard, and after walking me down several winding passageways, and through several doors, we came to a huge room filled to the brim with clothing, of all shapes and sizes. Even then, there were several people, who also grinned like madmen, ready to fill out Darrel’s orders from his clipboard.

Darrel turned to me and said, “Welcome to the Apparel Approvers. Here is where we shall greet Anastasia, but before we do so, I shall have you fitted with the appropriate attire so as to not spook the lady.”

Why is he so worried about this now? I’ve spooked all kinds of women as I’ve walked down this hall and he didn’t even blink at the thought (Then again, neither did the women), but my new guide? Was she squeamish? Was I so Neanderthalish that I sent babies wailing and frightened puppies? Well then ladies and gentleman, I guess you all better prepare yourself for the fright of a lifetime, though I’m sure Jason Vorhees could do better.

At least when the doors slid open the room was so much bigger and there were not that manny Apparel Approvers, or if there was, hopefully my “primitive indecency” scared them off. Hopefully.

Another man approached me in what appeared to be a flannel t-shirt and a pair of gym pants. His feet were covered in converses. He had that stylist look about him from his trimmed go-tee, to those thick glasses, to the sheen in his hair. Almost kissable. If I was that type of man.

The only thing that ruined that whole look was that stupid smile every blasted person here has. But look, he’s walking towards me now.

Before Darrel could even speak, the man had already said, “I was already notified about the Neanderthal’s arrival and I shall take him to be dressed, and if you may, follow me. Anastasia has also spoken that she would like to help.”

“Oh that will be wonderful,” Darrel almost squealed. “We need the extra hands. You know how... contraire Neanderthals can be.”

The man chuckled and said, “I remember the last one. They’re so shy it’s cute. Ah that’s why I love this job.”

So dressing me is like dressing a dog. Wonderful. Now I’m a pet.

“So I will let you do what you love. Dress him casual. I don’t think he knows how to dress for the occasions.” Darrel spoke.

I will have all of you know that I dressed in a tuxedo for prom… and looked decent in it. I also dressed for my second cousin’s fifth wedding in a tuxedo, but that was because Lana forced me to.

I expected a lot of contraptions to put my clothes on for me, but instead, the same way I dressed myself this morning...or the morning of January sixth.... was the same I was dressed in the future. I was tossed in front of the mirror, and while I wasn’t wowed by my outfit, I didn’t dislike it either.

My “primitive” self now had on a red, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of silver trousers with a red stripe going down them. The trousers were a tight fit and the shirt expanded over my hands, which made me feel a little...dorky, but curious. I touched the fabric. Cotton.

“Fabric.” said a lady.

I turned around, startled because after being surrounded by men for my beautification process, I really hadn’t expected to see a woman so soon, nevertheless one that likes to sneak up on strange men. I know a girl who disappeared on April first because of a stunt like that.

She gave me the same smile Darrel gave me, and she spoke like she was talking to a toddler. She began to speak again and I listened, instead of bolting for the door. “I am Anastasia, and I will escort you to the Footwear Selection Area immediately after our greeting. It is a pleasure to meet you Neanderthal. Now let us clothe your feet.”

Well that was a lovely conversation. And short too. I like that.

Anastasia led me to what can only be described as to what has to look like the largest shoe store ever invented, with racks of shoes as far as I can see. I saw sandals, boots, tennis shoes, galoshes, and a pair of heels, all in just the men’s section! And there was so much to choose from. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many shoes in my life. So what do I wear? I love to wear sandals, but they are a liability. Sneakers- light, fit, swift, and easily breakable. Boots were the thing. I chose out a heavy set of boots. When I say heavy, I mean that I couldn’t lift my foot off the floor without the help of Darrel and Anastasia.

“Neanderthal,” Anastasia scolded. “You bother me by your wroughtful decisions.”

Not my fault they believe that the Hulk wore shoes. Or the fact that good boots weighed as much as a tire. I chose a light set of ankle high, brown boots, laced them up and, as Darrel would put it, “Be brought out of the encapsulating darkness of primitivity!” If only he knew the ’80s had shoes too…

“Now that we have brought you to the basics of civilization, how about we bring you to a place where you can cater to your starvation, Neanderthal?” Darrel asked me.

While I was hungry, anger was building up from being called a Neanderthal over and over again. The last time I let this anger build, I put someone in the hospital. But nevertheless, I think I can wait. I think.