The first weightless sensation of being in warm water filled Dani with a strange peaceful euphoria. She smelled cedar, smoke and leather. Beyond her shuttered lids she felt the weight of deep darkness. Only slowly she became aware of a weight on her midsection and heard the quiet lap of water beneath a slow erratic drip and beyond that the low shrill keening of wind. A light current dragged at her left heel – that foot hung lower in the water than her right.

It all came back slowly: Maris; the dream; school; Martigny; the Paris night life; sexy Nancy; her car sold to Ethan; her search of the attic; the sapphire pendant hidden in the ratty old shoebox; her last promise to Angie to return home with Mama; her last communication a text message to Barb; her last act looping the blue satin cord around her neck; her last view of earth from a park bench on the RPI campus beneath the graceful arc of the birch; her last memory the sudden shock of pain and heat.

Then the memory became real pain asserting itself as she achieved full consciousness.

Her eyes opened to the sight of a most fearsome, hairy face with a full beard that surrounded a grim mouth and climbed high on cheekbones beneath intense blue eyes. He looked wild, dangerous and hungry though his was not a hunger of the stomach, Dani noted at exactly the same moment she realized that she was naked and the weight on her stomach was his arm.

She struggled to sit up in order to break free and swim away and got a mouthful of water for her trouble. Instead of letting her go, his hold tightened. He pulled her to his hard body.

Dani sputtered a watery yelp.

“Hey, I’m not that kind of girl.” She had to straighten him out about the nature of her sexual orientation immediately but he only scowled, stood and scooped her up and in the full circle of his left arm dragged her across the dark rippling surface her body half in and half out of the waist high water until he lifted her with the one arm and deposited her on a shelf of cool smooth rock.

Her tirade ended in a humiliating squeal of fear. She scramble to assume a modest posture, one where as little of her naked body was exposed to the scrutiny of Neanderthal man, drew her knees up to her chest and tucked her feet as close to her butt as she could. Cold eddies chilled her dripping skin.

The man walked by her after climbing dripping wet out of the pool; reflective light played across his features and dimly illuminated his body. He wore what looked like a wet suit. It fitted his body like skin, so perfectly that every hard plane, hollow and bulge stood out in stark relief. The suit was the color of rubies, long sleeved and covered him from ankle to neck. He was lean but had well developed muscles, wide shoulders, a trim waist, long legs, and boy, was he tall. His head barely cleared the ceiling. Neanderthal filled the space so completely she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

Where was she? Why was she here, in this darkened cave, soaking wet and naked with this wild looking man instead of with Mama? She needed her clothes. Where were they? Where was her pack? She did not see either immediately. The light was too low and He seemed about to walk away but he stopped abruptly, turned and scowled at her. The next thing she knew he slowly peeled off the suit. He tossed it to her. It struck her shoulder and fell down in a heap beside her. He made no effort to conceal any part of his male physique so Dani got an eyeful as he spoke with a demanding, gravelly voice and gestured once, then turned and proceeded to her left and up onto a ledge where the glow of a fire cast his huge shadow across the glimmering walls of the cave. It required little effort to understand Neanderthal man wanted her to put the garment on. She was more than happy to oblige.

The suit was open at the collar and all the way down the length of one sleeve. It had no other obvious openings, other than the necessary ones at neck, wrist and ankle. It had no closures -- no buttons, zippers, or Velcro. The fabric was like nothing she had ever seen, metallic but silky with a textured quilted pattern of tiny diamonds. The Neanderthal did not offer to help and Dani was profoundly relieved that he did not. She wanted him to keep his distance. She had no strength to stand up and no wish to expose herself to the Neanderthal who kept his eye on her even as he retrieved another similar garment from a small pack and put it on. It was silver in color and tiny, but quickly stretched to fit him and turned a murky rust color once his body was sheathed in it. He squatted on the ledge and built up his fire, then prepared utensils to make a meal.

Under the Neanderthal’s watchful gaze, Dani managed to get into the oversized suit without exposing herself too much. After several moments of confusion she figured out how to reconnect the front and back flap of the sleeve – she brought the sides together at her wrists and the garment simply sealed itself up the length of her arm to her neck. In the process as she pulled the oversized suit up over her legs, hips and body, it shrank to fit her much smaller frame and then the fabric attached itself to her and sent prickly sensations over her skin until the sensation faded and radiant warmth inched down into her aching muscles and joints. Apparently it soaked up all the excess moisture that remained on her body -- but remained dry -- and the tiny diamond shapes plumped like pillows accentuating the quilted texture immediately. The sharp ruby color shifted and turned a murky purple and shifted again until it was a dusty blue.

“What is this, some kind of mood suit?” She muttered under her breath.

A violent shudder wracked her body. Suddenly light headed, Dani crumpled to her side and curled up. Pain engulfed her body and nausea surged into her stomach, She was on the edge of unconsciousness, slipping away with the sight of her host scooping up a large fur from a nearby stone bench as he strode to her.

More terrible pain gripped her stomach and she gagged -- convulsing violently, she brought up coffee flavored bile, which only made her gag more. Neanderthal dropped the fur and his large, deft hands lifted and turned her quickly. Pain blasted across her forehead, behind her eyes and into her sinuses. She wretched and only from a distance heard herself vomit. Acid burned her throat. Neanderthal pressed his hand to her forehead while her gorge rose again and again. His hand was calloused.

Dani collapsed into unconsciousness. She came to later beside the fire securely wrapped in the fur and her head pillowed on something soft and comfortable. She turned her head and her cheek connected with velvety softness; her nostrils filled with the scent of leather. The odor of roasting meat, mingled with the odors of cedar, smoke and leather made her stomach rebel.

Neanderthal crouched at her feet, ladling broth from a small iron kettle into a carved wooden bowl. Dripping fat sizzled in the low fire. The smell of cooking meat was overpowering. Her stomach flopped over. Her mouth flooded with saliva and she swallowed convulsively. No gagging occurred, thankfully. Her head pounded so bad she longed for a couple of Tylenol, but it would require effort to explain where the first aid kit could be found in her pack and did she really want a complete stranger going through her pack before she was sure he could be trusted?

Her benefactor sat down, his legs crossed. He bowed his head over the steaming bowl and then his lips moved soundlessly. When he finished his blessing, he dug his fingers into the bowl lifting out a dripping chunk of meat between his fingers and thumb. The sight of him praying should have eased Dani’s natural mistrust but it did not. His golden brown skin was smooth, suggestive of youth, but his hardened features told a story of conflict and his watchful eyes and tensed body described a man poised to face danger at any moment. Dani watched him devour his meal, eating with his fingers and drinking the hot broth directly from the bowl. After he finished his second bowl he disappeared from sight and returned a few minutes later with the cleaned bowl dripping water. He put the bowl on a shelf with similar items, such as a wooden cup and a wooden box filled with unidentifiable tools.

They dwelt in a narrow pool of firelight in pitch darkness. Beyond their shelter a roaring wind sent whistling eddies across the floor. Sometimes the chilly drafts struck her hot cheeks. Otherwise the redolence in the narrow chamber was warm offering a comfortable, albeit dark, shelter from the noisy weather outside.

Her host finally noticed she was awake and leaned over her, touching her face with the back of his hand. He reached to his right – her left – and produced a roughly carved wooden cup. He lifted her head and pressed the cup to her lips, draining its warm and bitter contents into her mouth. She swallowed convulsively, but not before some of the liquid escaped the corners of her lips and dribbled over her jaw and down her neck. She was too weak to protest and could only wait to see if the brew would come back up. Thankfully it stayed down.

Neanderthal spoke in a low voice. She already knew it was the native language of Mama’s boyfriend. She had known it from the first words he had uttered upon her arrival, though she had been too stunned then to take it in, the fact that she had actually arrived on planet Haven or the method by which she had moved from Earth to Haven instantaneously. Upon arrival she had been too busy with the shock of her sudden “trip” and the hard landing to do much more than stare into his wild blue eyes while his warm breath glance across her cheeks.

So. With a jolt she realized her first contact with the Neanderthal stretched further back than waking up in his arms naked in the pool of warm water. Disjointed images flashed: Neanderthal’s rugged face, his mouth moving, his thumb indicating something behind him, his shoulder length hair stirred by a breeze, his breath coming out in a cloud that was torn away by a sudden gust of cold wind; eyes so blue she thought the sky had fallen and was made captive in them; the naked branches above him tossed violently; a shiver in her body unrelated to the cold; the taste of regurgitated coffee in her mouth; being jostled; the cold biting into her skin, her lungs seared with each breath of frigid air; feeling her body being lifted and seeing the ground teeter and spin beneath the heels of his leather boots.

Pushing back at the dizzying images, Dani, in spite of her physical agony, immediately began the process of connecting his speech to the moderate vocabulary she had learned from Mama’s boyfriend. Neanderthal’s cadence was a little off; he was using a dialect. She struggled to make sense of what he said in a self-effacing tone, something about lunatic women and the vengeance of God, but it was the timbre of his voice that surprised her; it made her feel unreasonably sad.

Without warning the effects of the drink dragged her down into sleep.

Pain was her constant companion and always the urgent tension in her stomach that threatened to raise her gorge again and again, accompanied with the blinding headache. Occasionally she awoke pain free and her thoughts sharp and lucid, though her trembling body was physically depleted of all strength. Neanderthal was constantly forcing liquids down her throat, most of which came up again moments later. Her stomach would hold nothing but the bitter liquid, but he used that sparingly. In one of her lucid moments she discovered he had stripped her of the skin tight suit and had carried her into the water and washed her like a baby.

"You smell." He said with warning in his voice when Dani would have put up a fight. “Struggle and I will dunk you.”

It was a promise she did not test. She had to go with the flow. Accept. She was helpless, a stranger in a strange land and suffering a physical calamity unlike any she had in her short life. She had to trust him. She had no choice.

Gradually the pain lessened and her lucid moments lasted longer. Sometimes she woke to a low burning fire and the low rumble of his voice. It took her awhile to realize he was talking in his sleep when Dani tried numerous times to strike up a conversation only to hear him talking over her. Other times she woke to see him kneeling beside the fire, a small book in his hands reading it quietly – his voice not much higher than a whisper – while his body rocked gently.

Eventually her stomach settled and awakened to sharp hunger pangs. First, he fed her a meaty tasting broth holding his wooden bowl to her lips, encouraging her to drink and it stayed down. He repeated that meal several times until she graduated to stew – he produced a wooden spoon and spoon fed her -- and her stomach held. As her strength improved she was able to sit at the edge of the pool and bathe herself – though the man had to carry her there and back. During this recovery stage, Dani attempted to converse with Neanderthal man, but every simple query - met with clipped one word answers that supplied no information. Dani did not quite know how to communicate with a person who refused to add substance to the conversation. He was surly, rude, silent and insufferable. How was she to ever get a firm grip on the language if he gave her nothing to work with, but yes, no and grunt.

Once Dani woke alone in the cave with the fire reduced to a bed of glowing embers. Where was Neanderthal? Would he come back? Panic gripped Dani until he returned, emerging from the low end of the cave, a smoky torch in hand, wearing what looked like a lamp on his head, and a leather pouch slung across his chest. He forced the handle of the torch into a fissure in the rock wall and squatted to rebuild the fire. After he had a good blaze going he doused the torch and stacked it against the cave wall next to a spear. He dumped the pouch on the floor, revealing a collection of rocks. He sorted them while carving notes onto a sheet of leather with the tip of a small knife. While Dani would have liked to ask questions, she slept instead.

Eventually Dani gained enough strength to stand on shaky legs and walk from one side of the chamber to the next under the watchful eye of Neanderthal. During one of these walks she remembered the sapphire. Her hand flew to her neck. She stood dead center between the pool – at her back – and her bedroll beside the fire, clawing her neck with her fingertips while her stomach roiled with panic.

“Where is my necklace?” She looked at Neanderthal who sat cross legged in his usual spot by the fire rubbing a sizable sheet of stretched animal hide. He glanced up when she spoke, frowned, and then returned to his task.

She repeated the question, this time in his language, “I was wearing a necklace; did you see it?” Had it still been on her person upon her arrival? Could it have fallen off during that bizarre journey? Had the cord snapped? Was it lost outside or even worse was it floating out in the cosmos somewhere between home and Haven? Though her journey had taken only an instant, still she felt the gulf that stood between Haven and Earth, felt at an unconscious level that the trek had taken a good deal longer than an instant. She tried not to think about it too much because the difficulty in trying to bring such divergent impressions into agreement gave her a headache.

Dani’s stomach flop over again.

She struggled to remember: had the stone been around her neck on the day of her arrival? The clothes she had worn on her journey were neatly folded and stacked beside her backpack. Dani picked up each article of clothing and shook it violently, hoping against hope that the necklace had come off with one of the shirts the day Caveman undressed her or that he had found it and put it in a pocket for safe keeping, but she found nothing.

She turned on him, her panic rising. “Answer me! Did you find a necklace the day I arrived? If you have it, tell me.”

She did not wait for his answer and barely listened when he did answer. She launched herself toward the entrance to the cave her legs rubbery and her knees shaking. She had to know. Storm or not, she had to find the necklace. How would she ever get home without it? Fear and terror propelled her. At first the darkness of the short passage disoriented her and she stumbled forward keeping her hand flat on the rough wall. The rock was cold. After a few short feet, she came upon the entrance, the place where the passage wall angled sharply right and she glimpsed daylight and heard the shrill wind scream. She plummeted to the entrance, not thinking about it, just moving forward her thoughts on the prospect of being stranded in the future and light years from home, her family, her friends, and her career plans. She stepped out in the open.

The first blast of frigid wind sucked away every last breath in her lungs. She stood and stared at the surrounding wood, dimmed by horizontal snow and pellets of ice that slammed into her body and face.

Wooly mammoth, her stunned brain announced. You are about to be flash frozen like that wooly mammoth discovered in the Siberian arctic tundra with 10,000 year-old grass in its mouth.

Neanderthal wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her off her feet, her back to his chest. “Foolish girl.” His voice growled in her ear. He carried her kicking and screaming to the interior cave and without ceremony tossed her into the pool. He stood looking down with his arms crossed over his large chest while Dani climbed sputtering out of the warm water and got in his face.

“There will be no tantrums,” he said with a sardonic expression in his eyes.

Tantrum?

She glared while she explained her situation in less than fluent Havenish and when she needed him to feel the fervency of her explanation her legs gave out and she fell into him. He picked her up and carried her to the fire. While he tucked her into her bedroll she clutched his arm.

“I need that necklace.”

“There is nothing to be done about that now.” He turned away, changed his mind and leaned in close. Mesmerized by his blue eyes – with all that facial hair it was difficult to focus on anything else -- and his voice, deep feelings welled up that were both alarming and comforting. There was that rasp in his voice that implied he had not spoken aloud for a while. There was a promise in his eyes.

“You better mind your manners.” He enunciated every word individually with exaggerated slowness, as if he thought she was a dummy. “Or I will be forced to toss you out and let Father Winter have his way with you.”

He disappeared from her line of sight and sat beside the fire, taking up the hide and his scraping tool.

Next Chapter: Chapter Six