Someone to hold my hand (Five minutes freewrite)

‘A good place to die. Just as good as any, I suppose’. It wasn’t that he was depressive. If anything, Ray Barr was a realist and there was no other way of putting it - that was where he was going to die, pure and simple. Not that he wanted to, not that he was planning to off himself, he was going to die because the atmosphere wasn’t good for him. Not outright toxic, not that it would kill him in the next hour, but the instruments said that level of nitrogen would slowly poison his blood - maybe as early as three days or he might make it one week, if he was lucky. That is, of course, is he wasn’t going to be killed by whatever beasts roamed these lands.
The on-board computer indicated there was life on this planet, but his equipment could not predict if it was intelligent life or some tiny fish. Or whatever. It did not matter either way. His mission had already failed and even if he were to magically encounter the most intelligent life form in the universe it was too late to save his doomed planet or his people. The last message to get through said the waters had risen so high as to wipe out the outskirts of the capital city, Bam, and there were large cracks crisscrossing its magnificent avenues. There had been too little warning of the impending doomsday, too little to find a suitable place to relocate, not that they would have had the necessary ships anyway. Those they did have had all been sent on a desperate mission to find help, some alien race with enough knowledge to reverse the tides. Literally. That message had been sent ten days ago and Ray shuddered at the thought that by now his beloved city might be totally submerged. All gone to their watery graves.
He could prolong his misery by hiding aboard his ship, but, with the fuel all but exhausted that would buy him what? An extra week? A month? It didn’t make sense, not when he knew there was no help on the way and there was no reason for him to keep on fighting. Who knows, exploring these lands he might indeed find a sentient race. Someone to understand he was probably the last of his species and he was dying. Someone to hold his hand. Why is it that we are afraid of dying alone? What possible comfort do we find in knowing that someone will go on living and breathing while we have stopped? Here, on this foreign planet what hope was there to find someone to understand or care about his passing?

The ship had landed in a shallow green valley, surrounded by what seemed like dense woods, whose luxuriant trees bore no resemblance to the ones he was used to. Gigantic trees, with lush green leaves, so big you could cover yourself with one. But it was not the woods that he found fascinating, but the sounds - a cacophony of noise that could only mean one thing - life! Try as he might he could not identify any and why would he? So far from home, there was little chance to run into the animals that he knew.
Just then a bright colored bird flew above his head, cawing to alert his friends of the stranger in their midst. The birds back home were mostly gray, but this one had red and green feathers. It did not come close to him, nor did it seemed menacing. Would you care when I’m dead? The bird flew back to her home in the woods completely ignoring the plight of the strange visitor.
Ray Barr did not dare to go into the dense woods. Knowing he was going to die was one thing, but exposing himself to the jaws of some unknown predator, no thanks.

That would have been such a beautiful home, he thought bitterly. The people of this planet must be really lucky. Speaking of which, if there’s intelligent life someone must have notice his arrival. Maybe they’ll send a patrol after him, maybe they’ll pulverize him on sight. Doesn’t matter. At least that’s a quick painless death.
The first creature to come check him out was this big hairy animal, with two big round eyes that somewhat reminded him of the animals he had seen on Omicron, when he was a young explorer dreaming of settling other planets for his people.
The creature showed no sign of aggression, he just sat there on all fours staring at him. He thought of calling to it, say 'Hello' or something, but he was afraid the sound of his voice might scare the animal.
The furry black beast took to visiting him every day, coming closer and closer as his confidence grew. Each day, he would sit down and start grooming himself with all the innocence of an animal who has not yet attained the constraining realms of self-consciousness. After he was done he would sometimes scamper to a nearby tree, bringing down with violent shakes a bunch of yellow fruits, which he devoured in haste. Ray wondered what the mysterious fruit tasted like or whether it would poison him.

One day, as his guest was about to finish grooming, Ray felt they had become close enough for him to try a friendly gesture. He was becoming weaker, but still he stood up and walked calmly to the tree and grabbed a bunch of fruit to present to his new-found friend. The only friend in the world he had left. The animal watched him closely, but accepted the proffered fruit and started gobbling. He rarely made any noise and, as far as Ray could tell, those were purely animal sounds. The bit of intelligence he thought he could see in the beast’s eyes was far less than he would have wanted from the companion of his last days, but even so the hairy creature would at least notice when he was going to die. It will probably forget him soon enough and he’ll stop coming to the valley and yet something in his heart desperately wanted the animal to remember him, even for one fleeting instant. ‘Oh, that’s the place were I once saw that weird animal’.
His furry friend seemed to enjoy their little ritual and was eyeing him to see if he’d get up and serve him some fruit. He even barred his fierce teeth in a distorted smile as Ray bent down to place the fruit in front of him. ‘Maybe it thinks it has trained me’, the dying man thought and started to laugh. The animal was a bit startled, but they were buddies by now, it knew the stranger was not dangerous.

And then the day came when Ray was no longer able to stand up, he labored breathing, he felt dizzy and nauseous. The animal waited for his treat for a few minutes, but Ray only shook his head. ‘I can’t, my friend, I can’t’. The animal gave out one of its random sounds, then he hoisted itself on its hind legs and stumbled towards the tree. It was now tall enough to reach the fruit without shaking the tree and it picked a big bunch of fruit. The ritual played out in reverse and the animal walked back on its unsteady legs and deposited the fruit besides Ray. The foreigner smiled weakly, feeling sorry he did not know the proper sound to thank his furry friend. The animal peeled one of the fruits and placed it tentatively in Ray’s lap. He was already dying, he might as well taste it. It was sweet, the best thing he’d ever tasted, or so it seemed. He felt happy. As it was done eating, the animal did not run back to the woods as was its habit. It just sat there by the side of its alien friend and as the dying man moaned the big ape took his hand gingerly and held it he drew his last breath.
It left after a while. Its friend was no more. Even an animal understands as much. As he passed the fruit tree the monkey stood on its hind legs again and grabbed a couple of bananas. Such a neat trick, I must show it to my friends.

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge, today's prompt was: beast! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!

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