"The Greatest Discovery"
A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan"
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part
of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this
story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own
enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before
you take it anywhere. (firstname.lastname@example.org).
The cat sat quietly purring, staring out at the vast plains. Tarzan, sated
for the time being, rested against a large tree, enjoying the feel of the
cool wet grass on his warm body, he fell into a deep sleep. The cat
watched him, never taking her eyes off of him. The gazelle had sated her
hunger for the time being, she would not have to eat for some time now. As
the soft snores began to emit from the human, the cat closed her eyes and
perched her head upon her folded front paws to sleep as well. For a few
hours, the savannah was quiet. The lions yawned up at the golden sun, the
gazelles romped freely, and the birds sang a happy song. All was right with
"What is Richard planning on doing John?" Kathleen stood, her eyes
imploring John to answer her. "I don't know yet Kathleen, I just know it's
not over and I need to know that you and Jane will be all right."
Kathleen's hands immediately took a hold of John's upper arms and her nails
dug into the bare skin. He tried to gently pull away from her but she had
a good grip on him. 'You know that we will be all right, you are the one we
worry about. I thought that this was the end of this nonsense." John
noted the pitch of Kathleen's voice, the sweat beading on her brow, her
tightened grip on his arms. She was afraid, not merely worried, she was
extremely frightened. John managed to pull his arms out of Kathleen's
'death grip' and he put his hands firmly onto her shoulders. He could see
the panic in her eyes; he could feel her breath coming faster. He
remembered Cheetah, the way that she would try to protect him, but
couldn't. He needed to explain to Kathleen.
"I have memories Kathleen, they are not clear, and they make little sense
right now, but I have them just the same. I remember my mother and my
father. Do you know why we were flying over the Congo?" Kathleen had to
sit down, her heart was racing and she needed to catch her breath. As she
sat, John squatted in front of her, waiting for her answer. "All I
remember is that they were making the trip for a vacation. John always
wanted to visit Africa." John leaned into her. "Think about it Kathleen,
what was going in at that time in Africa?" Kathleen rolled her eyes and
smiled. "There is always some civil unrest there John.' She tried to
comfort him; he saw this and relaxed a bit. He smiled, knowing full well
that she wasn't aware of the comings and goings of her favoured older
brother. It was best that he keep what knowledge he had, to himself. For
the time being anyway. "You are right Kathleen, but would you write the
letter anyway and then keep it in a safe place for me?
John left the office and raced up the stairs to his apartments. He needed
a shower badly, his hair was matted from being wet, then sleeping on it
without brushing it. There were some things that he really did appreciate
about civilization and a hair brush was one of those things, that and a
warm bath or shower. He did not require many things, but some luxuries
were hard to do without once indulged in. John found some clean clothes,
stepped into the shower and scrubbed himself until he felt clean again.
Clean was a nice feeling. Although getting his feet clean was a definite
chore. Kathleen had introduced him to pumice, which to him was much the
same as walking through the sand with wet feet. It got the job done, but
he had to scrub. The sand on the beach did the work for him! He smiled at
himself. It was hard for him to even imagine this life a few months ago,
before his "visit" to his home!
After drying off, he dressed in fresh clothing, found the jacket that Jane
had purchased for him and donned a pair of the shoes. He felt more
comfortable in the moccasins, although he did not like the confining
feeling. He had just come in from outside and he knew that it was too cold
for bare feet and no jacket. He would have to conform to these clothing
rules, or freeze. He didn't like that alternative.
Richard woke up in a great mood. Nash even noticed it and speculated many
things. Richard laughed when he asked if he had met a woman! Although he
hadn't had a female companion in a while, Richard thought that might be a
nice idea too. But that wasn't what was causing the good mood. He was
still elated about last night, about John's impromptu visit, for no
apparent reason but to talk. When he related this to Nash, Nash almost
lost his balance. "John Clayton Jr. Here, last night, not to cause any
problems, just to talk." Richard gleefully nodded. Nash shook his head. "I
don't trust him Clayton." Richard looked at him with disdain. "It's not
your call Nash. I was here, I know what happened. He was just a nephew
looking to have a conversation with his uncle." Nash again shook his head
and headed toward the carafe to pour himself a cup of coffee. "If you say
so." He knew when to keep his mouth shut. He knew what side his bread was
buttered on, and he wanted to keep getting that bread. Richard's light
mood would not be altered by a distrustful employee. He knew that John
wanted to have a family. He wanted John to be a part of the family. Why
else would he have brought him back from the Congo? Richard poured himself
a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with the early newspaper.
WILD MAN SAVES WOMAN
Richard read the article on page 4, top left hand corner. The woman
described John to a t. She stated that she wanted to thank him publicly
because he refused to accept any money from her, he just wanted to make
sure that she made it home safely. She had been mugged and the "homeless
man", as she stated, intervened, chasing down the criminal and returning
with her purse intact. Her plea was to find the man and perhaps help him
find a home, get back on his feet again.
Richard laughed. It would take a lot for John to change his ways. Richard
would have to prove to him that there was more than one way to save
someone. He would set his sights on educating John in this aspect.
John showed up downstairs, clean and hungry. Kathleen was reading the
article in the paper about the elderly woman who was mugged when she saw
John pouring a glass of orange juice. She brought the paper to him and
showed it to him. "Can you read this?" John looked at her strangely. Did
she know that he could read? Was this a test? "You read it to me." He
simply asked. She refused to indulge, finally revealing that she was aware
oh his bountiful knowledge of reading. He took the article and read it to
himself. Kathleen smiled. "they are calling you the Wild Man now!" They
laughed and then John lifted up a foot to reveal the shoe. "With this on,
no one will know I am the wild man. I will be in disguise." Again they
shared a laugh and then sat down to eat.