Ryan Silver

Dr. Mitchell

Creative Writing

Lottery Story

Purie smacked the backside of a cow to keep the heifer from wandering away. Purie enjoyed waking early to take his one hundred and sixty two cows out to graze. His three sons groaned every morning when their father would wake them quickly and not let them lay around while their minds adapted to full consciousness, but once they drank a hefty glass of milk and ate some bread made by their mother Chustie, they were ready to begin another day of labor. The sunrise was always amazing, marshalling the vast land to awaken. Purie and his sons would walk through the dew laden field where the livestock stayed the night. The dogs would nearly tackle Purie and his boys every morning because they were ravenous for the pieces of meat they knew awaited them. How many dogs did they have? One dog seemed to die or wander off at least monthly, but then another would appear and assume the duties of the last, so Purie and the boys did not even bother naming them.

            They reached the mighty river everyday shortly before the sun was in mid-sky, and would let the cows cool off and drink. Purie would relax and watch as the boys jumped out of trees into the river and exalted echoes of laughter. All the village men who owned, or more appropriately managed cattle because everything actually belonged to King Mekundu, would meet at the watering hole and share food and talk. All the livestock would mingle too, but when it was time to leave they followed their appropriate masters without complication.

            On this particular day, Futour came rushing to the shade where the men were with stunning news. “Futour, what have you done this time?” asked Purie.

            “Whoa, who said I did anything? No one knows who did it.”

            “Did what?”

            “Killed the king! King Mekundu has been killed!”

            All the men were immediately filled with uncontrolled energy, and questions began flying towards Futour: “What happened?! When did it happen?! Who killed the king?! Have the elders decided who will fulfill the sacred duties?!”

            Futour loved possessing the attention of everyone. Futour informed all the men and boys who had gathered by this time, “King Mekundu was found this morning on the floor with a smashed and swollen head. Some argued he had too much wine and fell, but I, and many others, believe such an injury was caused by a blow from a person with severe passion. Ceremonies will be held in two days and the king’s duties will be passed on to another.”

            King Mekundu was a very young king, and had yet to produce a son to succeed the throne. All the men continued to chatter; each secretly contemplated the possibilities of being the new king for a time. They each jokingly shared their desires of wearing fine linen, and eating the magnificent food, and of course indulging in the  pleasures provided by the concubines.

            Purie interrupted, “Those pleasures are short lived.”

            “You can be such a little girl sometimes, Purie,” added Futour. “Are you saying you would not enjoy being king?”

            “I would definitely enjoy being king, but I am already my own king. I have a home. I love my wife and my children. I love taking care of my cattle and walking through the fields each day, and I do not want to give up my kingdom and try another.” –Purie

            “Well, that’s your view, but you should be prepared to give up your self proclaimed little title, seeing how you can make sons so well and given your stature,” proclaimed Futour. “Wait, what am I saying? I’m going to be the new king, and I am going to sleep with every concubine two times a day. Everyone will remember me as King Mekundu’s manservant. But if you do become the new king, Purie, I will take over your little realm. I’ve always liked the how Chustie sways her hips anyways.”

            Purie pounced on Futour tackling him to his back, clenching his powerful hands around Futour’s neck and repeatedly slamming the back of his head onto the hard red dirt until the other men ended the scuffle. Futour gasped for air, then raised off the ground and walked away. All the men and boys began to dissipate, and the cows came out of the river one behind the other, water dripping off their tails, and drool hanging from their lips.

            The night before everyone was to gather for the kings passing, Purie stood in the field beside his earthen home, gazing at the early evening stars and caressing his best bull that he was told would be sacrificed the next day. Purie lowered his head to walk through the low opening to his home. His wife, daughter, and three sons all sat in a circle on the dirt floor, waiting for Purie before they began eating. Purie sat down and his little girl Yreva snuggled in his lap like always. They ate without talking much because they were very hungry.

            The boys were asleep soon after eating, and Purie and Chustie lay down with Yreva in the middle quickly dozing off. After Yreva was asleep, Purie and Chustie went outside. They stood hugging one another, Chustie with her head pressed against Purie’s chest, and Purie slightly rubbing the sharp muscles outlining Chustie’s spine while he pondered at the stars and she hummed softly. They eventually collapsed in the grass and made love several times; Chustie squeezing around Purie, and pressing her breast into his torso, while continuously communicating their love by rubbing their tongues together. No noise besides the wind and some heavy breathing and Chustie’s orgasmic moans carrying through the night sky.

                        The day ceremonies were to be held, Purie’s sons stayed home to watch over the livestock. Purie guided the sacrificial bull, and Chustie walked beside her husband with Yreva walking beside her until her little legs became too tired and she had to be carried. Most of the people from every village in King Mekundu’s realm gathered to honor the dead king. Riches and fine foods that would pass with King Mekundu to the next world where scattered around the king’s decorated dead body. After a few hours, when the crowd was conversing as if they weren’t gathered for a dead man, the elders announced the time for a bull sacrifice to King Mekundu.

            Purie walked up to a high piece of ground where everyone could see, and the bull lumbered behind. The elders stood beside Purie and began rhythmic chants to the gods, and eventually the entire crowd began chanting and convulsing their bodies, awaiting the sacrifice. Purie looked at the many people, flailing their arms, chanting, and rolling their eyes into the back of their heads. He saw Chustie in the back holding their daughter, and not dancing with the others. Purie and Chustie stared into each eyes. When the masses seemed to be on the brink of madness, Purie raised a heavy axe and chopped into the bull’s thick neck, then he raised the axe again and hammered into the same wound, sending the bull buckling to the ground as bright red blood sprayed onto the elders and several others. The congregation let out exaltation.

            Many servants came up to Purie and ripped off his coverings, revealing all his manhood. The elders coated their hands with blood from the bull, and began rubbing it over Purie’s body in groping motions. They covered every inch of his body. The bull’s hind legs were still twitching, unaware that they were not dead. The crowd became silent as the chief elder began monotone chants while placing his hands in different places on Purie’s body. When he finished the multitude let out a high pitched yelp, since King Mekundu’s spirit had now entered into Purie.

            Purie was escorted to the king’s palace while the drove of people walked behind. Purie was bathed, fed, and dressed. He was taken to a room full of concubines. The hides of several different breeds of animals covered the floor, and pillows lay around all the columns of the room. The naked women pulled Purie to the floor and began kissing his body. They swarmed over his body like ants. Purie was inside a woman but could not discern which one.

            The next five days Purie indulged in an orgy with the concubines, taking breaks to eat a variety of fruits and prepared meat, and taking naps when all his energy was gone. Purie loved his wife, but naturally enjoyed his current state. Although after the second day his body and mind became drained due to the constant pounding and exploding into all the different women. He continued on with the concubines because it was expected of him. After the fifth day, Purie left the concubines to be with King Mekundu’s true wife, Mulevi. Mulevi was more enjoyable than the concubines. Her hair was clean, and her eyes were a deep brown, and her body was still tight. Mulevi also spoke with Purie, and for a time he took pleasure just being with her, though her presence made him yearn for Chustie. He made love to Mulevi several times that night, giving her all he had.

            The next day Purie was taken back to the same grounds where the bull had been slaughtered. The horde of people had gathered again, and soon the rhythmic chants began. Purie looked at Chustie, who was at the back of the crowd, with an expressionless face. Chustie rocked her right leg nervously, bouncing Yreva on her hip, and Yreva raised her tiny hand towards her father. Purie dropped to his knees, his duty was over. He had taken on the soul of King Mekundu, and spread the seed for the king. Mulevi raised the axe and cut diagonally into Purie where his neck and shoulder met. The swarm of onlookers gasped out their fulfillment; Purie’s legs slightly twitching.