The following is a short story, using the words nurse, suck, and hump. The story is incomplete, and is currently running a little less than a thousand words.

“Muggles and Murphy”

by Michael Sirois (© February 2003)

       A man and an animal trudge slowly across a barren landscape.  The waves of shimmering heat that rise from the desert floor would obscure them from anyone’s vision, if anyone were around to see them.  They are, however, decidedly alone.

***

       My name is Murphy Stevenson.  We’ve been in the desert for over a week now, and I don’t know if we’re going to make it.  Muggles doesn’t look like he can even spit anymore, and—based on the little I know about camels—spitting is like breathing.

       Actually, I’m worried that Muggles might be dying.  Muggles isn’t his real name, of course.  It was one of those Arabic names I couldn’t pronounce, Muhjahaggaggdihn, or something like that.  I tried, but just couldn’t pronounce it.  I finally settled on Muggles.  Yes, I know Muggles is the plural form for the non-wizards from those Harry Potter books, and I know he’s just one camel, but Muggles sounded like a better camel name than Muggle.  He didn’t seem to mind. 

       I’ve been trying to nurse him back to health, giving him some of the dates from the sack he’s carrying on his back.  He would chew them a little, but then he’d just let the chewed mush dribble off his lower lip onto the hot sand, so I finally stopped.  He hasn’t had food or for two days now, or water for six  …or maybe seven.  I don’t remember.  I’m not in great shape myself, but I don’t think Muggles is even trying.  I knew it was cruel at the time, but I was so lost in the desert that I had to use the water for myself.  We had plenty of food, mostly nuts and dates and dried figs, but not very much water. 

       I stopped riding him after a couple of days.  His hump started bleeding where the saddle chafed him, but I just didn’t have any extra water to give him.  There’s only the two small leather waterbags that are strapped over his shoulders.  Walking beside him is probably what will save me, though.  He makes a great shade tree each day until midday, when the sun gets too high.  I’ve been keeping him on the sunny side as much as I can, anyway, and trying to move away from the sun.  I think that makes us head North for a while, and then East for a while, which should head us toward Cairo.  There have to be some towns, or villages, or whatever they call them, on the way.  It’s been hard keeping Muggles in line, though.  For a camel who doesn’t seem to have any energy, he sure is stubborn.  Every time I try to head one way, he struggles, and he’s constantly tugging on the straps, trying to pull me off in a different direction.

       Using Muggles for shade didn’t help him much, I’m sure.  That business about camels being able to live for days off their own built-in water supply probably assumes that the camel gets a well-stocked hump to start with, and then refills it occasionally.  It apparently doesn’t work as well if, after four days in the journey, you get separated from the rest of your party in a blinding sandstorm and wander aimlessly, letting the sun suck the life out of you for another four days.

       I don’t know how much longer Muggles can last.  He seems like he can barely move.  I wish someone would find us, or we’d stumble across an oasis or something.

***

       I wish the human thing would stop trying to feed me dates and find me some good shrubs to eat.  I know I’ll be all right if I just keep him moving toward the sky fire.  Most of the water lies in that direction, but he keeps trying to force me to go left, then right, then left again, and almost always in the wrong direction.  If I smell some water close by, I don’t care how hard he struggles, he’s coming with me.

       I think the human’s name is Cuhmohn Mugguhlls Moohviht.  That’s all he said for the first three days on the trail.  All camels know how vain the humans are, so that must be his name.  I’ve carried some ignorant humans before, but this one really is the worst.

       And why is he constantly hurrying, pulling me along, whether I want to go or not?  Doesn’t he understand that it’s hot out here?  Every time I try to slow down to save energy, he yanks on my straps and tries to get me moving again.  I’m getting really tired of this.  I’m a camel.  I’m usually in charge!

***

       At this rate, with the two of them working against each other, they stand a better chance of ending up buried under these sands than crossing over them.  But such is the will of the desert for fools, and those trapped with fools.  They stop for the night, which is (of course) when they should be traveling.  The man ties the camel’s reins to his belt, so the camel won’t be able to run off during the night.

***

       The nights are really cold in the desert, so much more than I thought they’d be.  Snuggling up against Muggles helps, but God, he smells.  I’m glad I don’t have to live around camels every day.  They’re nasty, foul-smelling creatures.  And where is the search party anyway?  They should be looking for me by now, shouldn’t they?