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of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this
story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own
enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before
you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com).
The Greatest Discovery – Part One
Setting: In Richard's home, tied to the bed, listening to Richard rant about John's behaviour. Mood: solemn
Richard stared down at the face of his nephew. Some spark of hope arose in him, John had finally quieted down, and maybe now they could get to the business of getting down to business. Richard's future plans included his nephew, not in the way that Kathleen believed, but in a way that would make John acceptable to the world in which Richard lived in. John couldn't survive in this "jungle"; he would be eaten alive by the Wall St. giants and the market. No, Richard would 'train' him to survive in his world. He would 'mold' John in the image he believed that his brother would have wanted. There were many people in the world, including Kathleen, who didn't know how ruthless John Clayton Sr. could be, had been. He was no saint when it came to the business world. He knew the rules, and he knew how to bend them without breaking them. Richard worshipped his brother as a business genius. He had kept his good reputation right up to the end. Richard, however, didn't have the same type of business savvy as his brother, so his reputation quickly became tarnished. Oh he was a great business man, but he was not the charismatic character his brother John could be. Richard wanted so much to be able to emulate that person, but he just couldn't seem to pin down what he was doing wrong. He was hoping that his was an innate characteristic, and that John Jr. would have this charisma. With Richard's business sense and John's charisma, perhaps the two of them could raise the empire to the level that he was certain John Sr. could have. John lay on the bed, trying to clear his mind of everything. He managed to slow his breathing down to almost nothing, and his pulse was nearly non existent. He let his mind release and soar into the great unknown. Back in Africa, in the Congo, he was in the trees, watching the great apes moving about slowly. He had learned that he was welcome when they told him to come, but if he just 'showed up', he would not be. One of the apes, a female that he had lovingly named Cheetah, had taken him in and nurtured him as one of her own children, she had loved him, groomed him and fed him, and then she taught him how to hunt. The other apes had played with him and he had learned his survival instincts from them. But he knew he was not one of them. While still young, he had seen the black men from a nearby village dancing around a fire singing praises to their gods, and young John was so pleased to see human beings again, that he ran to them, interrupting their ceremony. It was soon apparent that he was not welcome as they drew knives and weapons on him, beat on him then tossed him back into the bush, calling him Tarzan; the white ape. They laughed as Cheetah rescued him. Frightened, he never returned to their village. He stayed far away from them and always would. There were many people around John now, lifting him and putting him on a moving bed, rushing him out of the room, down the elevator to a waiting ambulance. He could sense Jane, and he even picked up on her scent. He did not rouse himself yet. Not yet. The apes moved about, doing what they do. Some were foraging, some were feeding, babies were nursing and some were attempting to mate. It was all so strange to Tarzan. He had ventured farther each day, but still returned to the place where his parents had passed into the great unknown. He would sit by their rock graves and speak to them nightly, telling them how much he missed them and how afraid he was. Cheetah would come to sit with him and try to comfort him, letting him fall asleep on her shoulder or even her lap. Time passed and John grew, his body changed and he began to worry. The great apes were huge and hairy. He was getting bigger, but he was not growing the hair that they had. He tried to remember his father, but all that he had was a small locket on a rope around his neck to turn to. His father had no hair on his face, and his mother had none on hers, so he surmised that he was not to have his hair all over himself as the apes had. It was a real epiphany to realize that he was not really an ape. Many moons had passed over head while he dwelled in the jungle. There were beings similar to him, but since his meeting with the villagers as a child, he refused to bother with these men. There were no other 'white apes' like him. Upon realization of this, John became somber, and spent a great deal of time just hunting, trying to forget. He would close his mind to the world and just deal with the task at hand. He hardened his heart over time and finally wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything. When the baby apes wanted to play with him, he would push them away, still they would come back and he would push them away again. Cheetah tried to groom him and comfort him, but he pushed her away most of the time. His time now was spent tracking the wild cats, killing them and eating the raw meat. John could feel pressure on his chest as something was pushed against it, then a horrible shocking pain ran through him. His body jolted, but his mind stayed blocked. Again this pain shot through him, still he remained peaceful. A warm hand held his and he could feel the moisture of something against his knuckles. What was he feeling? Slowly his mind began to return to the present. Hunting had become second nature to Tarzan. There was nothing he seemed to fear, and nothing that he wouldn't track. One day he happened upon an encampment of men, men that were not black. This caught his interest. He stared down at them quietly, hiding in the trees. There were men with hair the colour of the apes, but skin the same colour as his. Curiosity kept him anchored to the tree. A man with skin on top of his head seemed to be barking orders, and everyone listened. He must have been the chief, Tarzan guessed. The man looked almost familiar, but no, that was not possible. It was a woman who held his hand, it was Jane's scent. He could hear her in his sub-conscious state. She was begging him not to leave her. She didn't realize that he was still here, that he was beside her, not gone. Memories flooded his mind, many images at once, images of a cage, then of a beautiful woman. He could not separate one image from the next. There was that man with no hair on top of his head, claiming to be his uncle, his father's brother. Had he forgotten his father? Had he forgotten his life before the jungle? Beautiful auburn hair blew across his face both, leaving a fresh clean scent behind. He could no longer concentrate, his pulse began to quicken and his breathing heavier. Slowly John began to open his eyes. Jane sat beside him, holding tightly to his hand, tears streaming down her face, her voice faltering, begging him not to give up. She kept saying "don't go". He smiled up at her, watching her expression change quickly as she noted the machines beginning to make odd 'beeping' sounds. She looked at him, seeing his clear blue eyes, excitedly spoke, "You're back!" She was so happy; her eyes lit up like a full moon in a black sky. His lips curled on the right side and he spoke softly, "I never left." But in face, he had left, he had left her to return home, to fine out if there was anything left at 'home' for him to go back to. Upon seeing the reaction on Jane's lovely face, John decided that there was nothing left back there to return to, but there was definitely a reason to stay here. Behind the look of utter relief, was something more, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But he was determined to find out Jane hollered for the ambulance driver to stop and they scurried out of the back doors of the ambulance. Once they were hidden from view, Jane finally asked what had happened. John asked if she could not do that too. He had learned that from the animals, when they were in danger, they would play dead. Jane laughed and said something that he didn't understand, "Play possum". He just nodded and they began to walk briskly down the alley way. It was bitterly cold, and John, who normally didn't feel the elements as much as Jane, was cold, He blamed it on the stasis that he had just come out of, his body was not quite back to 'normal'. Once he began to feel himself again, things started coming back to him and his anger began to build up. He felt like that child that had been sent away from the village, he felt like he didn't belong anywhere, that everyone was his enemy, save for Jane. She could see him beginning to seethe, and tried to lighten the mood. She even went so far as purchasing him a coat from a merchant in the back alley. Of course the merchant was not as up to the idea of selling the coat as Jane was to buying it! She seemed to be in such a good mood, but John continued to brood. He was undeniably, unmistakably, unhappy. Jane tried to alter his mood, but instead it spurred his anger. He was very upset by the way that things had turned out. He thought he was helping her by going to Richard, but Richard had not helped Jane, his motives had been purely selfish. John was tired of using Jane's tactics. Even if this wasn't 'his' world, he was now a part of it, and it was time to take matters into his own hands. He would handle this situation 'his' way. After taking this up with Jane, arguing with her that her ways hadn't done anything to help them, he disappeared. She looked up where he had climbed and he was no where to be seen. Now she was truly frightened for John, and even more so for Richard. Jane had never seen that wild look on John before. Perhaps that was the wild animal that Sam had alluded to on many occasion, she was frightened. Her only recourse was to warn Richard, who of course would not take her seriously.
The Greatest Discovery – Part One
Setting: In Richard's home, tied to the bed, listening to Richard rant about John's behaviour. Mood: solemn
Richard stared down at the face of his nephew. Some spark of hope arose in him, John had finally quieted down, and maybe now they could get to the business of getting down to business. Richard's future plans included his nephew, not in the way that Kathleen believed, but in a way that would make John acceptable to the world in which Richard lived in. John couldn't survive in this "jungle"; he would be eaten alive by the Wall St. giants and the market. No, Richard would 'train' him to survive in his world. He would 'mold' John in the image he believed that his brother would have wanted. There were many people in the world, including Kathleen, who didn't know how ruthless John Clayton Sr. could be, had been. He was no saint when it came to the business world. He knew the rules, and he knew how to bend them without breaking them. Richard worshipped his brother as a business genius. He had kept his good reputation right up to the end. Richard, however, didn't have the same type of business savvy as his brother, so his reputation quickly became tarnished. Oh he was a great business man, but he was not the charismatic character his brother John could be. Richard wanted so much to be able to emulate that person, but he just couldn't seem to pin down what he was doing wrong. He was hoping that his was an innate characteristic, and that John Jr. would have this charisma. With Richard's business sense and John's charisma, perhaps the two of them could raise the empire to the level that he was certain John Sr. could have. John lay on the bed, trying to clear his mind of everything. He managed to slow his breathing down to almost nothing, and his pulse was nearly non existent. He let his mind release and soar into the great unknown. Back in Africa, in the Congo, he was in the trees, watching the great apes moving about slowly. He had learned that he was welcome when they told him to come, but if he just 'showed up', he would not be. One of the apes, a female that he had lovingly named Cheetah, had taken him in and nurtured him as one of her own children, she had loved him, groomed him and fed him, and then she taught him how to hunt. The other apes had played with him and he had learned his survival instincts from them. But he knew he was not one of them. While still young, he had seen the black men from a nearby village dancing around a fire singing praises to their gods, and young John was so pleased to see human beings again, that he ran to them, interrupting their ceremony. It was soon apparent that he was not welcome as they drew knives and weapons on him, beat on him then tossed him back into the bush, calling him Tarzan; the white ape. They laughed as Cheetah rescued him. Frightened, he never returned to their village. He stayed far away from them and always would. There were many people around John now, lifting him and putting him on a moving bed, rushing him out of the room, down the elevator to a waiting ambulance. He could sense Jane, and he even picked up on her scent. He did not rouse himself yet. Not yet. The apes moved about, doing what they do. Some were foraging, some were feeding, babies were nursing and some were attempting to mate. It was all so strange to Tarzan. He had ventured farther each day, but still returned to the place where his parents had passed into the great unknown. He would sit by their rock graves and speak to them nightly, telling them how much he missed them and how afraid he was. Cheetah would come to sit with him and try to comfort him, letting him fall asleep on her shoulder or even her lap. Time passed and John grew, his body changed and he began to worry. The great apes were huge and hairy. He was getting bigger, but he was not growing the hair that they had. He tried to remember his father, but all that he had was a small locket on a rope around his neck to turn to. His father had no hair on his face, and his mother had none on hers, so he surmised that he was not to have his hair all over himself as the apes had. It was a real epiphany to realize that he was not really an ape. Many moons had passed over head while he dwelled in the jungle. There were beings similar to him, but since his meeting with the villagers as a child, he refused to bother with these men. There were no other 'white apes' like him. Upon realization of this, John became somber, and spent a great deal of time just hunting, trying to forget. He would close his mind to the world and just deal with the task at hand. He hardened his heart over time and finally wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything. When the baby apes wanted to play with him, he would push them away, still they would come back and he would push them away again. Cheetah tried to groom him and comfort him, but he pushed her away most of the time. His time now was spent tracking the wild cats, killing them and eating the raw meat. John could feel pressure on his chest as something was pushed against it, then a horrible shocking pain ran through him. His body jolted, but his mind stayed blocked. Again this pain shot through him, still he remained peaceful. A warm hand held his and he could feel the moisture of something against his knuckles. What was he feeling? Slowly his mind began to return to the present. Hunting had become second nature to Tarzan. There was nothing he seemed to fear, and nothing that he wouldn't track. One day he happened upon an encampment of men, men that were not black. This caught his interest. He stared down at them quietly, hiding in the trees. There were men with hair the colour of the apes, but skin the same colour as his. Curiosity kept him anchored to the tree. A man with skin on top of his head seemed to be barking orders, and everyone listened. He must have been the chief, Tarzan guessed. The man looked almost familiar, but no, that was not possible. It was a woman who held his hand, it was Jane's scent. He could hear her in his sub-conscious state. She was begging him not to leave her. She didn't realize that he was still here, that he was beside her, not gone. Memories flooded his mind, many images at once, images of a cage, then of a beautiful woman. He could not separate one image from the next. There was that man with no hair on top of his head, claiming to be his uncle, his father's brother. Had he forgotten his father? Had he forgotten his life before the jungle? Beautiful auburn hair blew across his face both, leaving a fresh clean scent behind. He could no longer concentrate, his pulse began to quicken and his breathing heavier. Slowly John began to open his eyes. Jane sat beside him, holding tightly to his hand, tears streaming down her face, her voice faltering, begging him not to give up. She kept saying "don't go". He smiled up at her, watching her expression change quickly as she noted the machines beginning to make odd 'beeping' sounds. She looked at him, seeing his clear blue eyes, excitedly spoke, "You're back!" She was so happy; her eyes lit up like a full moon in a black sky. His lips curled on the right side and he spoke softly, "I never left." But in face, he had left, he had left her to return home, to fine out if there was anything left at 'home' for him to go back to. Upon seeing the reaction on Jane's lovely face, John decided that there was nothing left back there to return to, but there was definitely a reason to stay here. Behind the look of utter relief, was something more, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But he was determined to find out Jane hollered for the ambulance driver to stop and they scurried out of the back doors of the ambulance. Once they were hidden from view, Jane finally asked what had happened. John asked if she could not do that too. He had learned that from the animals, when they were in danger, they would play dead. Jane laughed and said something that he didn't understand, "Play possum". He just nodded and they began to walk briskly down the alley way. It was bitterly cold, and John, who normally didn't feel the elements as much as Jane, was cold, He blamed it on the stasis that he had just come out of, his body was not quite back to 'normal'. Once he began to feel himself again, things started coming back to him and his anger began to build up. He felt like that child that had been sent away from the village, he felt like he didn't belong anywhere, that everyone was his enemy, save for Jane. She could see him beginning to seethe, and tried to lighten the mood. She even went so far as purchasing him a coat from a merchant in the back alley. Of course the merchant was not as up to the idea of selling the coat as Jane was to buying it! She seemed to be in such a good mood, but John continued to brood. He was undeniably, unmistakably, unhappy. Jane tried to alter his mood, but instead it spurred his anger. He was very upset by the way that things had turned out. He thought he was helping her by going to Richard, but Richard had not helped Jane, his motives had been purely selfish. John was tired of using Jane's tactics. Even if this wasn't 'his' world, he was now a part of it, and it was time to take matters into his own hands. He would handle this situation 'his' way. After taking this up with Jane, arguing with her that her ways hadn't done anything to help them, he disappeared. She looked up where he had climbed and he was no where to be seen. Now she was truly frightened for John, and even more so for Richard. Jane had never seen that wild look on John before. Perhaps that was the wild animal that Sam had alluded to on many occasion, she was frightened. Her only recourse was to warn Richard, who of course would not take her seriously.
