December

by Caleb Williams

Far from the dense and crowded spaces of India, and still farther from the subcontinent’s
more commonly known geography is the lush north-east state of Manipur; a reigon not
dominated by infrastructure, but…developed according to the sparse number of peoples within.
Manipur’s distance from the fast-moving culture of cities effects the growth of her own, and
certain traditions that become obsolete in mass society are safe behind the hills, forests and mists
which isolate the province’s towns from urban life. In one of the state’s border regions, a town
called Tamenglong looks as if it had been poured over a small hill. The winding streets of mud
served well to connect the town’s small collection of concrete structures. And within these
scattered buildings, individual kitchen fires worked together to create the town’s overall smoky
air. Kitchens? Yes, all people must eat.

It is April in Tamenglong, and aside from the moist staple of rice, the spring air has brought in
the season for the province’s leafy reds, purples, and greens to flourish. The cuisine described
might seem desirable thus far, but there is one food which the people of Manipur held in highest
regard. Only following a marriage –or sometimes during their religion’s rare festivals would the
people taste, with longed-for recognition, their province’s rarest resource. In Manipur, regardless
of the season, good meat was hard to find.

Across from the town’s only hospital, a young puppy had stopped to rest. The animal’s short
life had been marked by exploration, –just a week ago she had left her mother for the pursuit to
scamper, the desire to see what lay beyond the compound she was born in. This spirit of curiosity
had brought her here, to a muddy gutter beside one of Tamenglong’s narrow streets, and she had
been lucky so far to go unnoticed by the few people who passed her by. The gutter meant nothing
to her, and was a mere time of rest before her next adventure. Nothing besides the present
moment entered her mind. No, young dogs do not think of the future, nor do they spend time in
recollection. Licking her paws, she was occupied and thus content. Her instinct to wander had
kept her safe so far: the customs of the people of Tamenglong were unknown to her, and
unfortunate for her aimless and carefree spirit, it was not long before she caught a person’s eye.

Dr. Tuangpi was finished for the day. An accomplished fellow, He was born in Tamenglong,
had grown there, and was privileged to learn medicine from his town’s previous doctor. He had
soon assumed his mentor’s role at the hospital, and lived as comfortable life. He resided with
nine other men at a small hostel on the outskirts of the town. And now that his work was
complete, dinner was the only subject on his mind; he was not much of a thinking man. Besides
the short 4 kilometer walk to his hostel, nothing bothered, occupied or distracted him from
dinner…that is, until he noticed the puppy.

The Dr. had seen the small animal and approached it without caution. The puppy was black,
furry, and probably a stray. To Tuangpi, a stray dog meant a dog for the taking, and he looked
with pleasure on it as he squatted and beckoned. The little puppy looked up from its business and
bounced across the few meters of space that Tuangpi had chosen to leave between them. She let
her head touch the doctor’s outstretched palm; after wandering a distance from her place of birth,
the small animal was happy to feel the warmth of another, and though Tuangpi was a stranger to
her, she sensed his interest, and was eager to accept his kindness. It was April in Tamegnlong. Dr.
Tuangpi looked intently on the small dog, continued to ruffle her fur, and spoke aloud.
“December”, “your name will be December”.

…………………………………………………………………………………

December knew her name now. She had been living with Tuangpi for five months now, and his
hostel’s walled compound was now her home. She was no longer a puppy, but her curious spirit
still drove her. She had explored every inch of the hostel’s compound, inspected every inch of the
hard stone walls, and no part of the compound had piqued her interest. No part but the gate. She
had walked through this gate only once before, and never gone out again. It was of made of long-
since rusted metal, and the gaps in the welding enabled her to see just enough to remember what
it was like outside. This kept her desire for exploration alive, and she would often spend vast
hours of the day, anxious for glimpses of the outside world while the hostel’s inhabitants were
out with their activity.

Her time at the gate would be interrupted every evening when a first inhabitant reached home. It
was not always the same one, but regardless of who came, he was careful not to let December
out. This would continue as each of the men slowly filtered back from the day’s activity, with
Tuangpi being the last. The first day she ventured through that gate with Tuangpi she had been
welcomed by their bright glances. They ruffled her ears, cheered, and patted the Dr. on the back.
His grin shone, and his eyes too were bright as he made a series of sounds; only to exert more
commotion out of the men. Everyone was happy. Good meat was hard to find.

But it had been five months since then, and December’s mind had long forgotten such events.
Her life was now ruled by a monotonous cycle: waking up, and then her wait by the gate till the
last of the men, Dr. Tuangpi, sauntered home. With his return the men would gather together
around a small fire to prepare their dinner…together they would pack an aluminum pot with rice,
assorted leaf, and the few spices found in Manipur. Once the steam began to rise in a consistent
fashion, it was done, and Tuangpi would dish out the casserole onto the hungry men’s plates. He
was always sure to give December her share. The men kept her well-fed.

The days progressively grew colder, and December found herself spending less time by the
gate, and more of it by the side of the hostel, curled up next to the warm embers of the fire. She
would often drift off to sleep after a hearty dinner, only to wake long after the men had left for
work the next day. The gate was visible from where she lay, and she would sometimes gaze at
it…but the remains of the fire were pleasant, and her desire to look at the outside world was
extinguished by the embers. She was growing more content with her life, it was almost as if her
contentment grew with the cold.

It was a most cold day…bitterly, and the men had woke December early that morning with a
new routine. It had been a couple days since they had left in the mornings with hearty pats on her
back. She normally liked their affection, but she was not happy to be disturbed while sleeping.
She was dozing off that morning when a ruffle of the ears woke her up. It was Dul, one of the
hostel’s younger inhabitants, and he was saying something to her she could not understand. He
continued this for a while until December shook her head and sneezed. The nearby ashes pushed
up into a cloud and she sneezed again. Dul, who had been crouching beside her let out a little
chuckle, and then proceeded out the compound gate. She looked out at him, and noticed the gate.
It was unclear whether Dul or the man before him had left the steel frame open, but regardless,
there it was, unlatched and open a crack! As soon as Dul was out of sight, December was on her
feet.

Dul was the last one to leave on the cold and arid day. December was alone, and if the men had
been present at the compound, they might have looked on her with amusment. There she was,
poised. Confidence surely shone through her stance as she looked out into the street, calm.
Cool. Collected.
She was a puppy again. The desire to explore was back again as she looked upon the unlocked
passage…it was only open a crack, yet to her it was gaping. Curiosity inflamed her. She had
known her compound so well, explored every corner till she knew it like the back of her…She
knew it well. And it was not necessarily that she was incontent. The life she had lived at the
hostel was perfect…the men were affectionate and provided her with comforts. She was merely
compelled by what lay ahead.
She had taken her opportunity and was out on the narrow street, bordered by a small slope on
the side opposite the gateway she now stood in. Anticipation began to grow as she took a step,
then two toward the street’s edge. Though hesitant, confidence was growing, and it would
seem that for the first time, in months she would once again run, scamper, traverse the country
without aim. She knew only what she had seen in her short life. She knew only of the walled
compound in which she had grown up. She knew only Tuangpi. She knew only of the few men
who lived there with her. She had taken another step, but this meant nothing, as a motorcycle
rushed by and her composure broke. December had not seen a vehicle before. Being as close to
one as she had just been was enough to send her rolling across the street, without aim into a
clump of vegetation. She was no longer thinking about adventure, the thought of the open gate
had been forgotten. She had been hit.

Dr. Tuangpi came back hours after December’s accident. He didn’t notice her as he walked in
through the gate, but as soon as he climbed the steps to the hostel’s porch, things began to
make sense. December had not come to greet him, she was not with the other men who had
gathered to cook that evenings meal. With a call to action, they recalled that the gate may have
been opened when the first man reached home. They went out in search.
There was much yelling that evening, with Tuangpi blaming one of the men for the dog’s death.
He was the first to pick up on the wretched smell of death, and with a quick sweep around the
street he found the dog, with flies alone tending to her wounds. It was too late, Dots were
connected, and here he was, the very same eve, passionately blaming Dul, the last man to leave
that morning:
“How could you, for the sake of us all! We had agreed, and it had been months!, Six months
since I brought that small puppy home in April, and you know this Dul, it is not often one comes
across good meat… we fed that dog like one of us! Helpings of rice, and now she is dead, rotted,
waste. Just a few days left till that final month, we were almost through with September. I
cannot believe you Dul. For my sake, for the all of us. And when good meat is so hard to find!”
Summarized: In a country where good meat is hard to find, a young hostel occupant is
overjoyed to adopt a stray dog he found opposite his workplace.
The dog is accepted by his fellow residents, and they all cannot wait for her to grow. Their plan
was to eat her by the end of the year, and this goal seems to be easy to meet until one of them
makes the mistake of leaving the compound gate open, leading to the dog’s escape/death.

Dr. Tuangpi, the man who found the dog, is enraged at the man who left the gate open. The
story for him is now over, and the thing which all the men had been anticipating was now gone.
They are now a little sad and go back to normal life…the interesting and fun thing they were
working towards is gone.

L – Dr. Tuangpi
O – eat dog
C – time (they need to wait) and then the gate.
K – She dies before she can ever eat her. (before she can explore)
The Hostel men’s well thought out objective = they are hungry. Meat is hard to come by (death
is them eating her).
hostel people… all younger students. Twangpi is the only one with a name…they could all be
described by their facial features…through the dogs eyes. Look at how it was done in to kill a
mockingbird.

Setting
Manipur – NE India
Earthy…soil…a little developed because there is streets and a hostel.

Chronological order:

The Objective of the Hostel men needs to be laid out early on (OVERARCHING THREAT)

1. Lead introduced (dog, female)

2. Objective for lead: Wants to explore. Street is what stops her. (Cars are the confrontation
visible to her)

Lead is restricted and confined to a compound in which the inhabitants want to kill her.
She is under a death threat which she is unaware of…happy go lucky as the guillotine is held and
ready to let down.

Problems so far:
getting out and exploring – is it invigorating?
The lead herself is not under pressure.

Are the Hostel men Good antagonists?

- personal = YES
- Have a well thought out objective = YES – they may be hungry. Maybe meat is hard to come by
(death is them eating her).

1. The Last Leaf – O Henry

Copy the beginning…in terms of world introduction
 Then Copy the character introduction for old Behrman to indroduce the humans in the
compound (not the dog).

10. Don't forget to Ask obvious questions… like incorporate sentences like this: “what are those
big metal boxes they put on boats..” The sentence obviously describes a cargo container (would
be more obvious in the setting, and is kind of an example of SHOW NOT TELL. Maybe a dumb
character could say it in dialogue…maybe me (the writer) could just write like that. –
ESPECIALLY SINCE THE DOG MIGHT GIVE ITS PERSPECTIVE!

OPEN UP ABOUT WHO DECEMBER IS (call her a mutt…but talk about her innocence and puppy).
Her friends: the students who pet her and all that

DECEMBER: A dog who is adopted into a setting where she finds herself stuck in a
multitude of new relationships: Manipuri students. She doesn’t know it, but their
affectionate pets and hair ruffles are not necessarily affection. They like the
cute puppy, but are all waiting for the end of the year. They ultimately want to eat her…
simply because that’s what their culture does. December was a cute, innocent, and happy
little dog. (OH, USE THE FORMAT FOUND IN THE NECKLACE …the template).
YES YES YES. This may very well be the one - my boy, you’ve found it!

The forest was everywhere, yet the province’s woods lacked the presence of useful creatures. They had those that crawled, those that slithered, and those that scampered. Yes, the timid squirrel and sly snake were not an

uncommon sight- but these animals were not exactly fit for eating. Although they were often hunted and consumed, such vile animals are not known to be full of the richness and delight that red meat was known for.

Around a bustling kitchen fire, a group of young men were huddled, anticipating their meal to come and enjoying the warmth at present. An elder man had packed an aluminum pot with rice, assorted leaf, and the few spices
found in Manipur, the mix needed to boil a few minutes longer and it would be ready. The men waited patiently; and after a long afternoon of various activity, this was not easy. Hunger drew each of the men back to the hostel, their
home.

The hostel’s compound housed ten young men and a cook. Some were students, some worked, and they all found their daily activity a few kilometers away from their residence, in more busy parts of Tamenglong. Commute took
time, but housing in the outskirts was affordable, and they were young. With a day of activity over, all the men had filtered back for a hearty meal. All of them but one.

She was animal, and was aimless by nature. Her decision to rest across from the mission
hospital seemed to hold no significance. But s