A
VOYAGE
TO MY
SOCIETY
A SHORT STORY-BY
UWE JAHNKE
ILLUSTRATION BY
ANCELL
M
an, dude, this is so lame." Buddy (one of the geeks who
I never should have invited) was starting to complain again.
We reached a clearing with a fantastic view of miles more
dense, tangled jungle and a distorted desert further out. After scop
ing the view Buddy let out a great sigh, sat down in the shade and
began spinning his wheels in boredom. He was beginning to piss
me off.
My boys and I had packed through the dense jungle for quite
a while, hoping to confirm a cheap-talk rumor about an unknown
Eillo Tribe said to live on the best dang skating terrain in the world.
We'd seen no sign of them yet, and I was getting impatient. Sweat
dlw
ran down my face like a waterfall, attracting dirt and swarms of
mosquitoes. I kept pushing through the maze of trees and swamps,
knowing my followers were losing faith in my adventures.
"Listen, it's here somewhere here. We just have to look harder."
"Screw that, I'm going back to the ramp," he whined. "You're
crazy to pull us out here, talking about some tribe that skates on
all this glorious terrain. Where's the proof, man? You're screwed
in the head." Spit sprayed from his mouth as he yelled. I wanted
to beat him over the head with my deck.
"Later days," he muttered, stood up and trudged off. To my amaze-
ment the others left with him, tossing their decks on their backs i
like little babies. They moved on without a word. They were surely
walking to their deaths. I stomped off in the other direction, mad
der than hell, accompanied by my last good friend, my board. "We'll
show them. We'll show them."
B
y the fifth day I was out of grub and before me lay an unusual
looking desert that stretched across the horizon as far as
I could see. Some of the drifts reached a hundred feet, like
giant ocean waves with their crests curved upside down. As I step
ped out onto the sand I realized that this wasn't your ordinary desert.
The great dunes that seemed to reach the skies were hard as rock
and the slopes were perfectly smooth. There were perfectly round
bowls and some peaks even hooked over into the ground to form
huge pipes that made you feel like a pissant walking through a
culvert. It was as if the skate gods had shaped the hard dunes
themselves. Here I stood at the edge of the biggest, most incredible
skating terrain in the whole world, awed and alone..
I woke up next to the smoldering fire I had made out of abandoned
bones the previous night and faced a strange sight. At first I thought
it was a bird or a gigantic fly buzzing down and around the transi-
tions. Then I got out my binoculars and realized it was a skater,
definitely Eillo. My heart thumped. I didn't know what to do. Not
knowing whether he was friend or foe. I hid behind a ramp-like
form on one of the highest ledges and waited. The small dude skated
by, if that's what you call the incredible moves he was doing.
As I peered around the corner, I saw he had long dreadlocked
hair down to his leather-like shorts. His board was about three feet
long and looked like a tusk or maybe veneer, with clay wheels and
possibly rock trucks. He had no shoes or shirt, his knees, hands and
feet were heavily calloused, and his legs and calves bulged with
Popeye-like muscles. His airs and lip tricks went way beyond any
thing I had ever seen or dreamed of, though I recognized a rock
'n roll. He slid and grinded a bowl in one final swoop, then disap-
peared, leaving only the sound of his hissing wheels and barking
trucks. I stayed hidden. Some of his airs were so huge he would
appear in the sky, seemingly looking for someone, maybe me. I
figured he'd probably see my grind marks and track me down like
a dog. I noticed a trail of paper squares stuck on the rocks, left by
the skating caveman. When I was sure he was a mighty far distance
away. I decided to investigate. The stickers had primitive markings
that could have been letters and a picture of a skater with tons of
other skaters watching him shred. I think they were advertising some
kind of contest.
It had been a nerve-wracking day. As I followed the trail of stickers,
my ears were peeled like bananas and my moves were sketchy. 1
wasn't thinking too hard about what I was doing. I was focusing my
thoughts on that Neanderthal man who could ollie right out of a
bowl and into another like a giant kangaroo. The sun started to sink
into the ridges of far away lands. I had no bones to burn this rather
cold night. I was quite exhausted. My eyes slowly sank to reveal the
curtains of my dreams. Sleep overcame my body and I was warm
once again.
I awoke in the middle of the cold night and found myself in the
bottom of the transition. I must have rolled down during my hectic
dreams. I felt like the last Cheerio in the bowl. There was a glow
of light on the crater lip. I writhed out of my sleeping bag like a
snake shedding its skin and peered curiously toward the glow. To
my amazement, strategically placed torches curved and carved for
miles, lighting up what I gathered was a lumpy slalom course. I
almost reached the course when I heard a faint rumbling, hollers
grabbed my skate and cautiously slinked toward the flames. I had
and yelps. They were definitely the cries of the Eillos. I crouched
in the dark as low as I could against a boulder. I waited quietly, peer-
ing out to see what shook the ground with such fury. There were
shadows disappearing and reappearing on top of the humps of the
course. I looked out again and an Eillo sped past me in a blur with
fleet of others right behind him. Some would hit a hump and fly
so high I often thought they disappeared into the night sky, all the
while whooping their wild calls. They slid around the corners with
such ferocious speed I didn't know how they stayed on their boards
without shoes or grip tape. They must have been going 80 miles
per hour.
a
T
hings were quiet once again and the torches soon burned
out. I was left in the dark, trying to comprehend what had
just passed before me. I had to decide what to do from here.
Did I dare try to meet these people? I thought of the tales I could
tell and the tricks I could teach. Being an old time veteran of the
sport, I was sure I could relate to them. Then again, we were worlds
apart. It was as if I was in a different era, crawling on my knees
while my brothers walked by on their feet. Having made up my mind
to search and encounter, I skated off into the dark, following the
dying coals of the once dancing fires.
Time went by fast and my only light was the moon. I felt like I
was on a planet with no life. Skating on as slowly and quietly as
possible, I looked for movement or sound, but there was nothing.
I looked to the west, then the north, then south and east. Where
did this trail lead to? All of a sudden something scurried in the
shadows and ran across a gap of light. I kept still, not breathing,
only looking and listening as hard as I could. It scurried through
the light once again and I realized it was only a mongoose or some
kind of varmint. I let out a sigh of thankfulness and my body relaxed.
I picked up my board and walked, feeling ashamed that such a little
pest could scare me so much. I walked for quite a while and started
to feel the horrible hunger pains that had grown stronger daily. I
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