March 15, 2983
A month ago at the Carriage dig site, I
happened across an incredible discovery. I'd decided to reexamine
the the southwest corner of the Grotto Stream, though many of my
colleges had abandoned it in favor of the excavation by the Painted
River.
As I was traversing the imitation
bamboo grove, a protected natural area, I stumbled over a discrepancy
in the soil. With a bit of careful digging I discovered, under the
shade of broad leaves, the remnants of a cinder block cellar. It had
collapsed, whether as a result of the Incident, or afterwards, and I
dug more eagerly in search of remnants of a past society hidden and
protected from weathering by rubble.
I should have sought assistance, but my
excitement overwhelmed my senses, and in a fervor I eventually
unearthed a number of well preserved artifacts from before the
collapse. It wasn't until six days had passed that I finally felt
comfortable inserting my entire body into the rough excavation.
There, with a portable light, a brush, and a shovel, I made a great
discovery.
As I looked around, my light glinted
upon something in the dull dirt. Carefully, gently, I brushed away
the fine debris and saw a shard of creamy white. With a tentative
finger I reached forward and touched a distal phalanx
of a pre-Event skeleton.
Normally, I would have shared such a
spectacular find unhesitatingly, but absurdly this discovery
amplified my artificial sequestration in my well carved cave. At the
office, I made every effort to act normal, and if any colleagues
noticed my withdrawal they didn't mention it.
At long last I disinterred the upper
bodies of a man, woman, and two children. Although the condition of
their skeletons was immaculate, there was one discrepancy. The man's
head was missing, and I couldn't imagine the reason, and this
incongruity enhanced the aura of mystery within my den. I worked a
few days in expanding the area, searching for this article which had
abdicated its duty. At last I discovered its hiding place, recessed
under a crumbling cinder block which had fallen long ago from its
foundation.
When I first peered under the block I
stumbled back in surprise as it sat, perfectly positioned, hollow eye
sockets staring into my own astonished corneas, as if waiting to
greet me. Unceremoniously seated, we faced each other across the
dirt floor and a millennium. At last, without hesitation, for we
were already fast friends, I reached into his shelter, and drew him
out for a better introduction.
The first thing that struck me, of this
ancient man, was his mouth. Even today, in the midst of our golden
renaissance of history and science, our anthropological studies are
still in disarray. How did our ancestors live their daily lives
prior to the Occurrence, how did they care for themselves?
This man seemed, at the time of his
death, to be in modest health, and yet oddly unconcerned with his
tooth structure, though our enlightened scientists now believe
properly maintained teeth are a key component for a healthy life.
As I explored his face, I noticed the
upper jaw was subtly but significantly smaller than the lower. I can
only imagine that such an obvious defect went unnoticed by those
incompetents of an earlier era.
If only he had known …. If only
there were some observer capable of recording the then and now, such
a being would relate these following vignettes which correspond and
contradict the archaeologist's thoughts...
A young boy sits in an orthodontist's
chair with his mother beside him, “You see,” a man in a pure
white coat says to them. “His upper jaw is too diminutive. We
need to install a palate expander.”
The mother nods along, while the boy
looks anxious. He's too afraid to ask, “Will it hurt?” but the
orthodontist comforts him anyways. “Don't worry, it won't cause
any pain.” It does. And after six months its removal brings
relief, and the boy repeatedly forgets to wear his retainer because
it's uncomfortable.
….
I felt unbearably drawn to this skull
from another age, seeking the answers it might offer to questions we
hadn't even imagined. I held the jawbone against the base of the
skull, and observed the satisfying click, but the discrepancy between
the alignment of the teeth between the upper and lower jaw. With the
jaws closed, they left a full centimeter gap from between the upper
and lower incisors and I wondered what sort of society, what sort of
parent would fail to aid their child's deformity.
….
The same boy, a few years older, and
wiser about the actions of adults, but still woefully ignorant and
unable to plan for the future, sits again in the orthodontist's
chair, as the metal wires are wound around anchors cemented to his
teeth. Again he is assured, again there is pain, again, after their
removal, he neglects his care. What is the cause but measures of
indifference, ignorance, and annoyance. Not ingratitude.
….
With a final glance, I noted where the
gums had begun to withdraw from the crooked teeth, and again I
lamented those who had failed this child, this man.
….
“It's nothing unusual at your age,
and won't significantly impact your health. After chewing on
misaligned teeth for twenty years, a bit of receding gums on the
higher stress areas is perfectly normal.”
“It's not serious?”
“No, and there isn't much you can do
at this point. There are expensive treatments but I wouldn't
recommend them, unless it worsens significantly.”
“Thank you for your time.”
….
At last I put the skull down, and
leaned back, satisfied that I understood my new found friend as well
as anyone alive could. With this final thought, the passion which
had seized me, relented, and I realized it was time to tell everyone
about my secret discovery, so I might relate to my colleagues and the
world, the injustices of our progenitors.
I turned, and began to crawl out, but I
felt the need to turn and look one time more upon my vault before
others entered.
I saw the skull, and and it grinned at
me with its hollow lopsided smile as sharing some secret, or was it
still withholding a truth I couldn't comprehend?
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