“Grandmother Lili”
A 500-word story about a haunting. Involving elephants.
For the March Twisted Tournament, this story scored a 7.54, and earned two “Most Original Take” marks, as well as a “Best Opening Line.” I based my setting on what I remember about going to the Elephant Nature Park in Chiang Mai, and what my friend told me of working there with the elephants. Unfortunately, there is some truth to the devastations of flooding mentioned here, but all elephants involved in this story are purely fictional.
Elephants are intelligent and amazing, and I doubt we know very much about them, but I think this doesn’t feel too off-track.
Limit: 500 | Cosy haunting | Elephant | “Something felt wrong.”
🐘🐘🐘
The braying howl of the dogs alerted the whole of the sleepy sanctuary, rousing the diurnal creatures from their slumber.
Something felt wrong.
At least, the dogs thought so.
It could be real danger, like strange humans breaking in, creating an opportunity for themselves to poach easy prey, the rescued animals unable to fight them like those left in the wild…or it could be that a mouse had crossed too close to a sleeping hound and startled the poor thing.
What set off a dog was hard to predict, but once one began crying, the others followed suit. Whether the dogs could see anything was a mystery, but they must’ve sensed a disturbance.
Out on the plain, Mapraw huddled closer to her pack, three cows with a calf hidden between them, and awaited discovering the cause for alarm, when a new call sounded: low, trembling, joyful.
Familiar.
Lifting her large head and flapping her wide ears, Mapraw gave up her panic as excitement rose in its stead, noting how even little Dokbua became more eager, the pack now searching for a glimpse of their would-be grandmother. Mapraw snorted from her long, grey trunk and lifted it in greeting as she caught sight of the ancient elephant, who maintained the slow pace of age even in her new form.
It had been tragic when Lili had passed away in the flood last year, her body too old and tired to make the swim to safety, but she hadn’t abandoned her makeshift family when her physical body failed her.
Her spirit stomped over the packed dirt of the plain as if she had only gone to gossip with another pack, her off-kilter saunter just the same.
Dokbua charged at Lili and seemed frustrated when she barreled through only air while the others wandered closer, making space for their elder.
One thing had changed about her appearance: her eyes were no longer rheumy beneath her drooping lids, but bright like she was yet a young calf herself. Of course, this was reflected nowhere else, but perhaps her vitality of spirit when spirit was all that was left to her was enough.
Mapraw leaned against Grandmother Lili, or, at least, she pretended to. It was how they used to greet each other, and it did not matter that Lili could not push back against them. It was comforting just to have her there.
Lili lowered her great head down, trunk beckoning Dokbua, and made as if to bring her lips close to the calf’s ear. Dokbua’s tail swished in excitement, rocking side to side as she listened to whatever news Lili had brought her.
Dokbua stamped her feet excitedly, running around in circles, and Mapraw could see the pride on Lili’s face.
Mapraw did not know what Grandmother Lili had whispered, nor when Lili would visit again, but it was not her place to ask questions, only to enjoy the blessing of the moment.
Thank you for reading! 🐘