Neanderthal man: Stuck dead people and talking rocks


Neanderthal Man is a forty- something, ex-British soldier who collects exotic knives and can strip down and re-assemble a semi-automatic rifle blind-folded. Until recently, he thought ‘chakras’ was a Latina pop star who sung about her hips not lying. But things are changing for the card-carrying caveman, ever since he met the Tree Hugger… 

The Tree Hugger and I have been together a couple of years now so by now I’ve met all her friends. She kept me away from the weirdest ones for a while but now I know the truth. Some of her friends see dead people. If the dead people are stuck, her friends try and get them to go through a tunnel. I can’t see the tunnel. I can’t see the dead people either. Apparently we had one of these stuck dead people in our villa. It kept switching our lights on and off. At least that’s what Tree Hugger said, I wanted to get the electrician in but Tree Hugger’s friends came round to persuade the stuck dead person to “walk towards the light”. I thought they were all batty at first but they’re nice enough once you get to know them. Another thing her and her friends go on about is rocks. They call them crystals but they look like rocks to me. We have some huge rocks around the house, Tree Hugger says they do things like get rid of negative energy and fill your heart with love.

Back in my army days, we had to lift backpacks full of rocks over our heads and run around an obstacle course. Those rocks didn’t seem to get rid of my negative energy. Nor did the pack of angry, snarling soldiers I was running alongside seem to have hearts filled with love. No point telling Tree Hugger that. She loves her rocks, she wears them as necklaces, rings, and ear-rings and has little bowls filled with polished coloured ones positioned all over the house.

“They have special powers,” says Tree Hugger.

“Can they get me a cup of tea and a biscuit?” I ask. Tree Hugger didn’t think that was as funny as I did.

One particular friend of hers, Sylvia, has rocks all over her house; she even takes them to bed with her. Goodness knows how her husband copes. She talks to them of course – all Tree Hugger’s friends talk to rocks and plants – the difference with Sylvia is that her rocks talk back to her! She says some of them have little spirits living inside them. I know this girl quite well now and apart from hearing voices talking to her from rocks, she’s a normal woman who’s climbed high up the corporate ladder. She’s even met Hillary Clinton. I wonder if Hillary talks to rocks. I guess Bill could fit into that category. (Just kidding, Bill’s ok)

Last week I said, “Show me one of your talking rocks Sylvia.” She brought out a clear crystal quartz about the size of her hand. “See, look inside,” she said, “Can you see the little fairy?”

No. I could not see the little fairy. “Say hello to her,” said Sylvia. “Hello fairy,” I said to the rock. “Are you alright in there? It’s not too cramped?” If my old Sergeant Major could’ve seen me, he’d think I was stoned.


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