Into The Land of Punt

Two

As he made his way to the Little boat he made had made into his headquarters, Martin held an aluminum flask pressed onto his temple. he rolled it over and over again to relive the pain and keep the swelling down. But it didn't help his pain.

He was walking normally now, but the pain was still there, only faint.

He stopped as he spotted four expensive off-road vehicles make his way towards the Little boat.

he darted aside and walked out of view as he scouted the intruders.

Four bulgy hunks got out of the first car carrying weapons and walked to his boat.

"He's not here." One of the hunks said with a Russian accent as he walked out of the boat. "but, he's been here, give it a couple of hours."

the third trucks window rolled down and a guy with balding head looked out. He knew that head everywhere, especially its corners, perfectly shaped like the tip of a p***s showing over a broken condom. he knew whose it was. Markov.

Markov shouted back at them, "okay, spread out and find him. He can't be far, and if you don't, burn everything here!"

Oh no.

He walked quickly out of the tree cover calling out to Markov and making fun of him at the same time. "Oh no, Markov! I may like a blowjob from you 'cause you don't have teeth, but i don't think the boat will."

The henchmen raised their guns at him but he already knew the sequence.

He walked to the car with Markov without raising his hands as Markov complained about him making fun of him. He told the henchmen to pop Martin's feet off, but Martin gave them a bored look. He raised his hands. "Don't shoot Mr. Officer, Don't shoot. I'm complying."

"GET IN!" They said and forced him into the second car and sandwiched him. Before he could comment, they pressed their guns onto his temple and he instantly kept quiet, especially when they dared him to open his mouth. Markov's car drove off first and they followed.

He looked at the dashboard of the car he was in and saw the date and time displayed on the 2019 03 05. He knew that was today. March 5th, 2019. Not 19 03 05. Who the hell displays time that? He wanted to say but being surrounded by machine guns in a tight space like the car was not good. It made his stomach weak.

But 19 03 05? Didn’t they know that date? He recalled it.

“Dad, can you tell us a story?” Martin recalled his sister, Millie asking their father a decade and a half ago, to tell them the bedtime story.

“Sure, well let’s see, Long, long time ago, in the land the four rivers meet, where animals speak and Gods roam the earth among men, A land called Punt, A land where even the bravest of the brave warriors dare not to conquer,” their father started tucking his little sister in bed.

“a princess, as beautiful as the water lilies and as warm as the morning sun, stood watching the…”

“Dad, Am I as beautiful as a water lily?”

“Sweetheart, you are as beautiful as a daisy, and as warming as the midday sun.” His father responded and Martin couldn't help but chip in a comment he knew his sister would understand.

“He means you are tiring.”

“Martin!” His father turned to his sister and added, before continuing. “ don’t listen to your brother, he’s only being rude. Now where was i?”

“The beautiful princess.”

“Hmm, the beautiful princess, Daughter of the sky king watched the world below and grew day by day jealous of the world out there.”

“Why? Was she locked in the castle?”

“Yes, her father the king of the gods was afraid they would steal his daughter’s heart and he wanted to protect it.”

“Was she like Rapunzel and the girl in the tower?”

“Yes, now can I continue?”

“Okay, but would a prince come and save her?”

“You don’t need a prince to save you,”

“How? Can she fight the monsters under the bed and kill them? Can she…”

“You will know if I finish the story.”

“You are tiring!”

“Martin!”

“I want demons and…”

Her father looked at her and she stopped talking.

“Can I continue?”

“Okay.”

“The princess was locked in the castle compound, but she wanted to go out and play with the other kids. but every night she would go outside the castle and into the city. And every night she would watch over the kids as they slept and wondered if she could play with them.

As his father told the story of the goddess descent to the earth and falling in love with a king who was put through seven tough labors, Martin got up and went to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of juice and continued playing PSP game. After losing a battle twice, and was in the middle of another rematch, his father walked into the kitchen and sat in front of him with a can of beer in his hands.

“You know, your mother would…”

His father started and Martin quickly changed the topic. “Great way to tell an eight-year-old, you are going to bully her boyfriend the day she gets one.” he said looking up for a moment from his game before he went back to it.

“Well, clearly I’m not gonna bully your girlfriend or whoever pitiful girl takes you as a good match.” His father mocked him. “You ain’t got the brains to have one.”

“Well, if you didn’t know I’m quite a catch and girls fight over me.”

“Keep dreaming big guy. Any girl who falls for you would have a very heart, I’ll give you to her to keep, I’ll even send her a million.” His father said before talking a sip at the glass of beer.

“You do take me garbage, don’t you?”

“If you didn’t spend your only two braincells in games and stealing but on school, I wouldn’t.” He contemplated putting the game aside and arguing with his dad. But he knew his dad was partially right. He was once a straight A student now he was just average. He always got half no matter what. But his father was someone chasing the ruins of a city somewhere on earth that clearly didn’t exist.

“But I’m not chasing a fairy tale.” He threw in a punch he knew his father would just brush off. He always did since his mother disappeared two years ago.

“You don’t believe in the existence of Punt, do you?” His father asked putting his beer down.

“No, I don’t.” He responded and his father’s eyes lit, and he smiled as he looked at his son. Martin saw the glint he had barely seen for over two years.

“Well, I wouldn’t be if I wasn't searching for it. Yes, I do believe in it. Why don’t you believe in it?” He asked with a crocked smile.

“It’s only just a story mom came up with to keep my imagination active.” He said putting his PlayStation portable down. His father held in a chuckle and felt his locket.

“What makes you say that?” he asked. Martin started explaining all the details his mother had told him from his young age of three until he was ten, just until the night before she disappeared.

“first there is the talking animals, clearly they are made up.” He started, “then there are the gods who sometimes mingle with men, men die when they see a gods!” his father chuckled and martin looked at him.

“continue.” He motioned.

“And the gods, they don’t even care what happen around men, okay, that, I’ll believe. But the dead and the ancestors having their own realm and council that observe and able to interact with men, that’s overreach, might as well say ghosts exists. And those ghosts can control weather and luck!

Plus, that land even in its own is a reach, its located where the four rivers meet, and sandwiched between heaven and the netherworld.”

As he described the land of punt, it’s military capabilities and almost all its aspects, he couldn't help but feel proud of his son. He knew almost everything he needed. They talked for an hour arguing about the existence of the Land of Punt being nothing but a myth. He watched his son with sad eyes as he compared the garden of Eden to Punt.

His father mentioned the glyphs his mother taught him from a young age before he could even read English. His son looked at him like “Really?”

“Really? that’s your defense?” He asked. “you taught me and my sister hieroglyphics before we even went to school, cuneiform in second grade!”

“good point.” His father just responded with a smile. “Now, go to sleep, it’s late.”

Martin remembered the last words his father said before he was found dead the next day. He brushed the memory of what transpired after and stared at the henchmen sandwiching him in the car.

He looked outside as they drove out of  the small village in the middle of the rainforest. He knew where they were going, Manaus, Paris of the tropics. But he hated every second of it. The guns didn’t ease his discomfort.

He closed his eyes as his tongue ached to wag around.