Mowgli and I

September 6, 2017 by Patrick Starks 


(Episode 1)

The things I saw, the things I experienced, were not of my world or yours—and in a world so different, it was a surprise I could even breathe. People where I lived would always talked about how much they’d love to travel, the souvenirs and the food they’d collect—but if you ever bared witness to the things I’ve seen, your heart would probably turn inside out—turning you back to your home, to the place you once evaded—only for a moment of what you felt would be peace or paradise.

I was on my typical Delta flight, the ride was a little bumpy, but appeared to aggravate the stomachs of the people onboard—causing them horrific bowel movements in return. However, I felt it was hilarious, watching one from first class walk all the way to coach, just to release the kraken as they would say—and then watch them take the walk of shame back to their royal dungeon.

As disgusted I’d become overtime, I would have a sandwich to satisfy my hunger, for that all I had was a bagel and coffee that day. I thought the sandwich was turkey, but later found out that it was ham—good thing I wasn’t allergic to swine—and more so, that I wasn’t Muslim, I’d spit it out otherwise.

And along with the day-old sandwich I would eat, I’d have a Martini—shaken, not stirred—I felt like a true bond, a female version of course—although, I don’t think I’ve ever seen James Bond eat anything in his movies, let alone be a woman, but it would be nice to see one—just saying.

I was on my way to Kenya, to the mother land, as the saying would go. I was to meet my relatives—aunts and uncles. I never got the chance to meet any of them—before I was born, mom and dad would move to the states, but there was always something about Kenya that always made me feel connected to it.

I wasn’t African, but African American, in which I was born and raised in city of Los Angeles aka L.A. It appeared we were getting closer to our destination as the pilot would make his over exaggerative announcement. “Alright, alright, alright. Everyone please turn off your computers, and your cell phones—although, they should already be turned off. But other than that, sit tight, the mother land awaits,” he said. I was confused, he lost me at ‘alright, alright, alright.’ At that point, I didn’t know if he was an actual pilot or Matthew McConaughey, but I was sure that no actors would be flying, at least I’d hope not.

Originally, I would probably release the kraken myself, thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong, but the James Bond in me would begin to take its course, and by that, I do mean the martini—as I should explain for the perverted minded. It is true a women like myself loves a

strong man, one physically and mentally, but I’m not fucking desperate.

I closed my eyes for only a moment, and before I knew it, after a few vibrations,  the plane would begin to spin—Mr. McConaughey would lose control. Within a few seconds, the front half of the plane was gone, I prayed for the ones that were on that half, but I knew chances were slim to none that they were gone. And as I thought about it, I realized the same would apply to me as well.

All I saw were city lights, it was a beautiful sight as always, but never is it really when your plummeting to your death. There were only a few of us remaining—an elderly man, a mother and her child. I felt it was obvious to help both for that I was neither old or held a child. Making an immediate decision, I chose the woman and her child, strapping around them whatever cushion that I could find. And at the height that we were falling, it was obvious to say that none of it would work, but you should ask yourself sometimes, WWBD—what would bond do? The woman looked at me crazy when I said it out loud, but also was happy that I would try to pull off this wonder woman action scene—no cameras, just us and the skies.

As we continued to fall, I would try to make my way over to the elderly man, but sadly his skin had turned pale. I figured from all the horror he was experiencing, he might’ve just passed away, and for that I envied him, envied the peaceful death he had—all I could think about was how painful mine would be, but at the altitude that we were, I figured it be a quick one.

For a moment that felt like eternal hell, the plane would finally crash, and from their everything would go silent, go black, but after a while would became bright, just not in heavenly ways. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel my legs, but I could feel the hot sun as it dug into the scars I’d obtain on my forehead. I was pinned down and looked around for anything I could find, and when I looked to my left—I began to cry. The woman had passed, but it appeared the baby was fine—no scratches, no bruises. I was happy that the child was okay, but not so much, it would now be without a mother. I felt useless for the child, I just couldn’t move, but then something gave me the courage to do so.

As I continued to search for all I could find, to get out of my current situation, I noticed that things were off. Even though I had never been to Africa, I could see it wasn’t the place we crashed. The pilot said we were close, but still, this was not Africa, this was not Kenya.

It was obvious we were in a jungle, but the trees were none like the ones I”d  see before. They coiled like spaghetti, and swayed like hair in the wind, all on their own, as what I thought to be birds sang.  I took mental notes of what I was experiencing and tried my best to get to the child, it was no surprise that it was scared, but what child wouldn’t be—as it still laid in the dead arms of its mother—for a moment I would cry again, telling the child over and over, I’m sorry, I felt helpless.
I then passed out due to the pain and exhaustion, and before I knew it the new day would began—the second day of the child and I’s hell. When I awakened, an elder snake would then coil itself around the body of the childs mother, but seemed not affected by it due to the shield its mother posed. Such a woman I thought, even when dead she still protects her child, I’d cry once more, but judge me if you want, no one deserved such an experience, especially this child.

I began scratching and clawing my way out of the ditch I was in, but was making little progress. Every moment I wasted the snakes power would come closer to the child’s delicate body. I screamed, I yelled for the snake to stop. But then it gave me a cynical smile as it spoke.

“Silence woman, the child is mine, I won’t let another slip through my grasp,” the snake said. My heart dropped, I asked it what it meant by another, and it grinned again as its tongue flickered like a dying light bulb. “We do this all the time my dear, the birds are such a significant help and sacrifice. As long as I don’t eat them, then they will do everything I say—even if that means getting stuck in an engine, perhaps,” the snake said.

I couldn’t believe it, all that had happened was just a plot, a scheme. I didn’t want to believe it, but as I looked passed the snake, I could see behind him the bones of his fallen victims. I then screamed louder, pleading for him to stop the madness, but he did as always—delivering one more smile before he would attempt to devour the child and its mother.

With all the anger and frustration that had been building up, I’d finally stand, as I worked my way out of the ditch. The snake looked surprised at first, but persisted in its action. “This ain’t the jungle book sweetheart, this ain’t were the snake loses. One more step and the child is definitely a goner,” the snake said.

However, I called its bluff. I then charged the snake, yelling ‘What would bond do!’

I’d somehow catch the snake off guard for that I’d taken a sharp piece of debris from the plane, shoving it down its throat—the snake’s eyes went cold—ironically, it was a cold-blooded creature.

I struggled as I pulled the child from its mother’s arm, it was as if she still couldn’t let it go. Me being the entrepreneur that I was, I never thought of myself being a mom, at least not yet—my career, my passion was my child. Although, it would appear that on that day my destiny and my destination would all change.

I figured since the snake was such a smart ass, I would give the child the name of the character the snake hated so much—Mowgli.  And so Mowgli and I traveled for days through the world we were unfamiliar with, but later stumbled upon a tribe. I immediately made eye contact with a member of it, and tears ran down their face.

“Oh, my goodness! Sasha, my Sasha, I thought… I thought you were dead. The policeman told me, told us all, that your plane went down, that you were most likely dead, but now you’re here, and with a child,” the man said. The child was Asian, in which I believed to be Vietnamese, maybe Japanese, its mother would probably kill me if I were wrong, if she were still alive.

But I could see that the man was a little thrown off by it all, maybe because he thought it was mine, but baffled him how, moments later he’d fall in love with the child as if it were his own.

Although, I was still unaware of who he was, and so I asked, and then he told me. “It’s me Shona, your uncle, look here,” he said. He pulled from his pocket a picture, and there he was, with  my father. I immediately gave him a big hug, pinning the child between both are chest. “What happened to you child, it’s a blessing your even alive,” he said.

I told uncle Shona it was a long story and that it be a lot to tell. Still curious by the land Mowgli and I embarked, I asked him if we were in Kenya, and he smiled.

“No, it is a long story and that would be a lot to tell. Just know that you are special, and that child is living proof of your gifts,” he said.

Before I got the last bit of his words, I would faint into his arms, and realized that there was a reason I was there, a reason why I felt connected to it all.

When my eyes open, Mowgli and I’s story would begin, the jungle would become our book.



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s