Viruses, reptiles, and cute little furry things with big teeth and claws thrive in the undergrowth and the deep, dark canopy. Their strange beauty and graceful movements lull you into an irrational state of false security. Awe envelopes the heart and dulls the senses, not to mention the sensibilities.2
It's a deceivingly calm and peaceful place. Danger surrounds and penetrates until it, like the myriad of unusual and wonderful pharmaceuticals discovered there, grants you immunity to unwelcome intrusion. It's easy to lose your guard in a place like that. That is until the drums begin. The drums remind you.3
(TUM-tum-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum-tum...)4
They start quietly at first, barely audible. You don't even notice them until the constant rhythmic interruption of private thoughts causes enough irritation to make you stop and ponder the source of it. By then sounds have begun to bounce between the trunks of the millions of trees. The reverberations join forces with the drums themselves to create a dark symphony. Unlike the civilized harmonics found on the stage of an auditorium back home, there are no horns nor flutes nor strings...only drums. They pound in steady time like a clock measuring your last tank of living breath. Realization dawns. The plants and animals aren't the only things that will eat you. 5
(TUM-tum-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum-tum...)6
Their music sways your mood, but again, not like back home when you're sitting comfortably in the crushed velvet padded chair of a music hall. There are no tuxedoes nor evening gowns, no swelling crescendos nor spiraling decrescendos to lift and plummet your spirit. There is only a steady beat, determined, alive, and growing. It builds upon itself. It grows louder and stronger, quickening its pace and getting closer. You can neither ignore nor escape it. Still, its heightened pitch compels you to run. 7
(TUM-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum-TUM-tum-tum...) 8
Instinct takes over, and that's what you do. You run. You run without reguard for what lies in your path. You become unaware of the gashes and rips left by the claws of the jungle as you force your way through its gripping talons. You run in spite of the distant, seemingly useless knowledge that you have no destination to reach. You just run, run in circles, over and over again. You can't run away from the beating of the drums because you can no longer distinguish their direction of origin. Still, you can't stop trying. The volume continues to increase. You clasp your hands over your ears, duck down, and close your eyes as if shutting out the world will shut out the incessant infernal rhythm.9
(TUM-tum-TUM-tum-TUM-tum...)10
Your feet strike the earth in time with the drums. Winded, near exhaustion you send out a shreak of laughter to mingle with the music as you realize you are snared. Incarcerated against your will, forced to perform a frenzied pointless dance of madness, you dispel rational thought and continue to run, repelling from invisible strings held by unseen natives like some virgin marionette waiting to be sacrificed.11
(TUMtumTUMtumTUMtum...)12
It is from these strings that my life is suspended. I have never been to the rainforest, but I am plagued by the beating of those drums.13
(TUMtumTUMtumTUMtum...) 14
The idea of going to jail terrifies me. Like the drums of cannibals, it overshadows my every thought and endeavor. Such ugliness lies in wait to punish sinners, it can only be contained by iron bars and ten-inch concrete walls. Incarceration! Rape and shivs, exposure and shame...words like lyrics begin to form to the backdrop music of beating drums that are getting closer.15
(TUMtumTUMtumTUMtum...)16
I am tormented by the sense of my approaching Judgement Day. Its nearness boils my soul with a fevered urgency of volcanic proportions. As in the jungle, I am compelled to fight or flee. My muscles are compressed like coils waiting to be sprung. I am becoming increasingly aware of the animal response within myself, as I can feel the constant over-abundance of adrenaline beginning to saturate my tissues and organs. I notice the progressive erosion of my mental and physical health as I am poisoned by the very juices designed to afford me the opportunity to live. My cursed primal brain lacks the capacity for realistic understanding. It cannot comprehend the facts: no refuge exists, and a predator can only be defeated when it is tangible. What pursues me is my past. Time is a vengeful force which commands a Reckoning. 17
(TUMtumTUMtumTUMtum...)18
I yearn for absolution. Each day is a mission to atone for my sins. I labour without rest. I am driven to right my wrongs while being driven mad by the tick-tick-ticking of the clock. I have concluded that the clock is the war drum of the civilized man. It is always present and audible just beneath the surface where only the subconscious listens.19
(TUMTUMTUMTUMTUMTUM...)20
Agitated by the sound of it, I continue to toil to the point of collapse. Sadly, it seems my efforts prove fruitless. Some things, once broken, can never be repaired, not even with the glue of sweat and tears. Instead, each former deed is a titanium scarlet letter which I am condemned to wear like a brand. I nearly buckle beneath their weight. Years of laden footsteps have left an unmistakeable trail behind me. They lead right up to the spot in which I stand.21
(TUMTUMTUMTUMTUMTUM...) 22
How long before the striking of the drums stops? How much longer must I run, stooped down with hands clasped over my ears? How long before the only pounding is my frantic heart within my own head? 23
( !
24Yet as much as I loathe the noise, I mostly fear the silence. In the jungle you stop short, surrounded by spears, when the drums cease. In the jungle, silence is the worst sound of all. 25
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