Two Truths, One Lie

Rumor has brought Jackson Tivvi here, but desperation will see him succeed.

The blistering sun crisps the back of his neck. Tiv’s eyes are fixed earthwards, scanning for glimmers in the dried creek beds. The tussocks around him grow taller, turning into whole trees. A stillness settles around him as the sun starts its descent to the other horizon, every foot it lowers linked to the mounting frustration in Tiv’s own mind.

The long-empty creek bed wends its way through the dry scrub forest, the trunks of the trees increasing in girth the deeper that Tiv pushes through the territory. Leaves crinkle underfoot, bugs whir within his very skull, and the quiet of solitude settles heavy on Tiv’s shoulders.

Only one sound has Tiv jerking his head free of the allure of the pebbled earth. Voices on the dry air. Potential poachers? Other fossickers? He’s unsure. Tiv fishes free the flashlight looped at his belt, shines it around him in the gathering dusk, the forest more plum purple now than bright tangerine.

A few sets of eyes glimmer amongst the branches. His skin crawls. The locals have their own superstitions about aye-ayes but Tiv has seen far more deadly creatures. The little lemurs are unnerving, but harmless.

Tiv’s broad, blunt-fingered hand wipes the chill sweat from the back of his neck.

The deepening darkness moves to his left. He freezes.

Crawling carefully across the trunk of a fallen tree is a misshapen shape, the size of a man. Tattered dying sunlight catches the creature’s face, huge eyes unblinking, front incisors as long as Tiv’s thumb. Aye-ayes usually grow to the size of a person’s forearm. This thing should not exist.

He watches it settle on the log, its elongated middle fingers tapping softly at the bark, as if in thought.

“What are you?” Tiv breathes, his feet slowly moving backwards. Aye-ayes are shy, brutally hunted despite their gentle natures because of the ill-luck they supposedly bring. But this freak of nature has Tiv’s skin crawling with unease, and he feels it’s best to leave this part of the forest in favour of more open ground.

“Not what. Who.” Tiv freezes, mouth popping open, mind abruptly blank with white incredulity. The giant aye-aye smiles, its gums working grotesquely over its enlarged front teeth, stained from its habitual gnawing on wood. “I am Aloka, who once was a man. And you are on land that is not yours.”

Tiv’s voice sounds strangled to his own ears. “I was just passing through. I can go.”

“I think not.” Scores of eyes shine, the forest glimmering with their presence, lighting the trees. The way behind Tiv seems to close in on itself.

“Our ancestral home has been taken from us.” Tiv’s brain tries desperately to reconcile what he is hearing with what he is seeing, the animal’s mouth moving the way no creature’s mouth should, and an all-too-human voice issuing out. “The trees we once prospered in now vanish. My people are hungry. Two truths, one lie. Back and forth we will go, until one of us can no longer tell the difference.”

“And if I lose?” Tiv rasps.

“You don’t leave.”

“And if I win?”

“I will give you what you seek.” There, in the creature’s grasp is a glittering rock the size of Tiv’s own fist. A huge, rough sapphire. The thing he has traveled whole countries and seas for. The thing that will save him.

Tiv’s mouth is dry. “Deal.”

“Very well. We begin kindly. The flowers of the baobab tree grow pink. The ocean below reflects the sky above. I am as old as the riverbeds.”

Tiv blinks. No land animal can live centuries, as this one suggests, but he knows which one is the lie.

“The baobab tree has white flowers.”

Aloka grins, flipping the uncut sapphire between its hands. “You know your world. Very good. Your turn.”

“I … uh.” Words elude Tiv. Aloka waits patiently, its huge green eyes trained on Tiv’s face. He needs to end this game and escape. The shadows of night are almost full. And the more he lingers here, the more the panic of self-preservation screams at him. He won’t start easily. “I am from Brisbane, Australia. My little sister has lymphoma. I killed my father.”

Aloka’s head cocks to the side, further than a human’s can. “You did not kill your father. Though you beat him to within an inch of his life, after he assaulted your mother one too many times.”

A strangled sound escapes Tiv’s throat, muscles locked in place.

“My turn again,” the creature says, sly. Something in its voice tells Tiv that it has been angered by him not returning the courtesy of starting the game in a kinder manner. “I was tricked into this form when I chose to provide for myself above all else. I am cursed to remain like this until the night sky cracks open like an egg, pouring its contents out. My people only eat fruits, flowers and grubs.”

Tiv’s fingers twitch. All of those statements sound like truths. They all sound like lies. His mind plays with the threads of them, running through the knots of their reasonability. There is no certain way forward. He goes with his gut.

“The first one. You don’t seem selfish,” he says, a weak attempt at charm.

Aloka pauses. Relief pounds into Tiv; he was right. He can get the win in the next round, and get out of here.

“Actually. Though fruits, flowers and the little squealing grubs fill us, there is something else that we hunger for. A flesh that tastes sweeter than any other.”

Tiv’s torch shines again on Aloka’s face, the stains on its teeth showing stark.

Except they’re not just brown, but a dark red - the colour of old blood.

Tiv’s screams cut across the still night air, rippling the water of a nearby river. Ancient eyes slip down beneath the surface, an unknowable fear driving even these predators away.