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SUMMARY: The seventh in a 14 part serial short story- a new one every week. I wrote this to be recorded as an audio story- you can hear it at www.williamhrdina.com- but I think it holds up as a regular short story as well, and its finished so it won't disappear.

Part VII- The Villagers-
By William Hrdina

Cliff held up his hands in what he hoped was a universal gesture of submission, and maneuvered himself between the approaching villagers and his wife. Although there were four women among the ten approaching people, none of them looked civilized. If anything, the women were even crazier looking than the men with their long, tangled dreadlocks and patched together clothing.
"We come in peace." Cliff said, feeling a bit stupid. Hoping John was wrong about their proclivity for cannibalism.
The largest of the men, the one who appeared to be the leader, made a deep, guttural grunting noise in his throat. He set his spear on the ground and began making a series of complicated hand gestures in concert with the grunts. None of it made a lick of sense to Cliff. The other people with the man did seem to understand though, and they immediately began grunting too. To everyone's relief, the villagers all set down their spears and began making hand signals at the befuddled group of hikers.
"What, exactly, is happening here?" Ryan asked, not sure who he was addressing and even more unsure about whether he really wanted an honest answer.
"It appears these people don't speak anything but sign language and caveman." Dottie whispered. Speaking loudly seemed like a very ill-conceived strategy.
"It's not sign language. At least not American sign language. I took it instead of Spanish." Logan said. He was scared. The villagers put him in mind of the horrifying statue he found at the top of the cliff they'd climbed on the third day. He looked over at John who was oddly silent considering how insistent he was about staying once they found the place.
"Do any of you speak English?" Cliff asked, knowing it was futile but trying anyway.
He got no response in return, just more grunting and hand signals.
"Maybe we should go." John said.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"I thought you've been looking for these people for five years." Cliff said, realizing he sounded like a jerk while he was saying it. "I thought you couldn't leave?"
"Look- I'm not a linguist or a specialist in stone age cultures- I'm just a guy who heard about an old town in the middle of nowhere people had survived in for decades without any outside contact- I wanted to join them. But look at these people." He gestured dismissively at the dirty congregation of villagers, "They're like the savages you see in old pirate movies. I can't live with these people. We might as well turn around and go home."
Even though he was scared to death he would be made into some sort of a lunchtime snack, Logan didn't want to leave. This was genuinely interesting. An avid TV watcher and a teenager to boot- no one had to tell Logan about the ocean of difference between the adventures you saw on TV and the boring crap which was the reality of day to day life. He wanted to stretch this moment out, a part of him, deep in his soul, feared it would be the only real adventure he ever experienced.