Inigo: A Short Story

It was dry, hot, incandescent. The August heat had eaten away at the water supply all summer, and now they had none. The past couple years had been a drought, thought Inigo, if this doesn't end soon, we will be forced to move. Inigo was the chieftain of the most successful Indian tribe of his time, they were good hunters and gatherers, but they had no 'magic men' or shamans. They neither knew how to heal a wound or to do a rain dance.
The people, Inigo knew, would soon start dying if this kept up longer. All of the farmers crops had been dying, none of them producing edible things. The animals were bone skinny and never yielded enough meat for even one. All of the rivers and streams had gone dry, only useful for dry dirt. There wasn't enough water to sustain anything for more than a month, and the only water hole not dry was under control of a powerful, triple alliance between three small tribes.

A year earlier they had tried to send youth to the Sockdorkz School of Wizardry (and Shamanism!)(For this was after magic, but before technology).

None of them came back with magic skills,(some hadn't come back at all, yet) and just last month they had sent one more to ask for help. The sun was always shining down upon them and beating with the fire of the roaring inferno inside, hammered upon the small tepees and people.
Recently the people of Inigo's tribe had taken to hiding in chilled caves, where the drip drop drip drop... Of the water brought hope to the thirsty people. But even the arctic freezing of the hard stone couldn't keep them safe from the incalescence outside, and every day their numbers

decreased.
The best they ever had was the small amount of water coming from the Indians of the West, who sent a small amount of water every month or so. Everyone needed more water, and gave less to them. The clouds hung tantalizingly over the neighboring territories, but never on them.
This, is what had been happening, and this is what had been going through Domingo's head that morning. He looked out the window of his New York apartment at the great city before him, and continued eating his cereal. They were so far from back then, from where his great-great-great-grandfather lived. We had planes, trains, cars, iPhones, machines, hey, we even had spaceships and rockets.
He always loved to dream about the Great Drought of The Noust Indians. His great-great-great-grandfather, Inigo, had been the chieftain at that time. The stories were surrounded by legends, but Domingo believed what he believed. Then, Domingo started daydreaming again.
Inigo was brown-skinned, he had dark, black, piercing eyes, and wore bearskin slippers. He wore the Indian feather headdress of a chieftain, and another a bearskin shirt. So when the white-skinned stranger appeared, they thought he was a demon.
The newcomer had grey hair, and sea blue eyes, and wore a white toga from who knows where. He had a hunched back and carried a gnarled old wood cane, he wore rough leather sandals and had wrinkled skin.
The man seized the nearest tribesman with surprising strength. The tribesman, surprised by the assault, twisted away, but the man held firm. He said, " Bring me to your chieftain!"
"I am here!" Cried Inigo, "What business have you harming my tribe!"
"I am a magic man" replied the stranger,"I have brought help."
"Then prove your worth!"
And from behind him-quite exquisitely- one the young boys they had sent to Sockdorkz School of Wizardry (and Shamanism!) stepped out, beholding a book titled: Rain Dances 101.
"This book, is a powerful magic arteefakt, it can bring the god of the rains!" Said the old man," We have brought you this book for a price!… $1.99 plus sales tax! Certain conditions apply, offer only to those with approved credit. (For this was after disclaimers, but before laws)
"By golly" said Inigo,"Bring the treasurer and the gold stash!" The small poor servant wheeled in a dusty, empty, wheelbarrow. Inigo reached in and brought out a small gold coin (For this was after dollars, but before paper bills). It was covered in cobwebs and dust.
One coin!, thought the villager with outrage, all our fighting and that is our spoils, one coin!
Inigo handed the coin to the man, who, after careful inspection, put it in his pocket, and handed Inigo the boy, and the book. Then, with a great deal of flashes and bangs, disappeared.
Inigo immediately took the boy and asked him for rain. The boy said,"But I need more-"
"RAIN!!!!" Shouted Inigo
The boy opened the book and scrunched up his face as he scrutinized his book (For this was after writing, but before English). The small print was written in Мова магії and he was not a professional магія писец. This meant was the boy couldn't read the magic book very well and had to think very hard. He did not want to take a paper and translate it, this would mean an embarrassment to his chieftain and to himself.
The boy, to his greatest knowledge, was still not very smart, and this is what he thought: the book says,"Four steps to the right and tree?…steps to the left" Well, a tree has about 21 branches and each branch has 21 leaves, so 441! The divided by the number of trees in the area of 1sq mile 64.7 is 6.816. Then translate that with x, to get an average stride length of 2.5 gives you... 0.752218!
So the young boy took four grand steps to the right, and with a helpful magic spell took exactly 0.752218 steps to the left. Then the clouds roared and the thunder struck the ground. And with a terrifying CLASH! CLANG! CHING! came giant, robot, monsters!!!!!!!!!… Not really, -though that would have been amazing- it was just flying unicycles.
They were pouring, and they were shiny bright red with streamers -like that bike we all got when we were 6- it didn't take a genius to figure it out, so when the Indian genius came up and announced that they were,"1-circled, chrome red- with polyester ribbons -one-person transportation devices!" Inigo slapped him and said,
" They're unicycles!"
Then, the Indian genius came out and said, "You pedal them!"
Meanwhile, the boy was humiliated, he had failed in his tribes most precious time and had been the worst possible thing, he bawled," Four steps to the left and three to the right!" Then Inigo came up and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Are you going to eat me?" ,said the boy.
"No.", said Inigo,"Look.", he said as he waved his hand in front of him. All of the Indians were pedaling around. Some were even jumping off the cliffs and dunes. The boy was thrilled, he went to go learn how to cycle.
Some days later, someone had the idea for a skate park, even though they were still in a drought-the book had burned once being exhausted of unicycle magic- everyone agreed to pitch in. Day in... Day out... Day in... Day out... And so on. For several weeks, the people labored over this park, carrying back-breaking stones and sanding them out until they had lost a couple layers of skin. Toiling in the mines which now stretched for miles. They hauled picks, and mined out bricks, weeks passed this way. And by the end, it was magnificent, at its highest point 657 meters and had a working магії elevator. This magnificent building had back flippers and front flippers, and even side flippers. Underground tunnels, unicycling on tunnel roofs, and unicycle hang gliding. They were proud of their accomplishments and every year hosted the Unilympics (for this was after Greece, but before name generators).
These people no longer boasted that they could hit a bulls eye 200ft away with a spear. No, they boasted how they could do a double-backie, side-turn-rip, половина н- рол, half-hander. They always won the events and loved it when they were challenged.
But eventually, the fun had to end. When the champion cycler blacked-out from thirst, the games were paused for two months. They were still in the drought, and everybody was blacking-out before they could help other people that had blacked-out. No more rain for anyone, a they were in a dire situation. The caves were small, not big enough for all of the people. The cracked, hard, dry, ground was no longer suitable for riding, the rubber melted off the tires. Everything almost burned, and some things did.
Domingo flipped his coin, the solid gold glinted in the air. This was the same coin that Inigo had used to buy Rain Dances 101. It had been a memoir, a very special one. It brought Domingo thoughts of greatness and of his unicycling heritage. Domingo looked out the window, lost in thought. Then, the first rain drop spattered the crystalline window.