Tuksook's Story, 35,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  The boatmen spent no time preparing for sleep. The south part of the bent tree house was quiet. Some were asleep and the rest were on their way.

  Suddenly there was from a far place in the bent tree house a tune played on a flute. It was gentle and soothing. When the tune ended, there were no more tunes, just quiet. Hamaklob had the first watch on the south entryway, later to be relieved by Vole. Hawk quietly walked the length of the south part of the bent tree house content that they had offered safety to these People.

  Days later as the newcomers became adjusted and the yellow leaves began to fall, Gumui and Tuksook walked the meadow hand-in-hand. Mi was with them.

  “Now, tell me what happened last night. You slept fitfully, moaning and twisting and turning. I’d wake you up; you’d go back to sleep; and it would begin again.”

  Tuksook took time to respond. Mi looked at her mother’s face wondering what she would say.

  “It was the same dream. I played and the People perished. There is something wrong, something about to happen. I can feel it, Gumui, but I cannot discover what it is.” Like a flash of lightning, she threw her arms out to stop Gumui and Mi.

  “Tuksook, think what you would do if this happened.”

  “Wisdom?” Tuksook asked looking around herself. “Is this going to happen here?”

  “You will see what you will see,” the unique, special voice replied, “Think what you should do, if it happens.” And, then, he was gone.

  Tuksook had spent a day reasoning through this disaster. She thought she had prepared herself well. Clearly, Wisdom implied, she was missing something.

  That night, Kouchu died peacefully in her sleep. She had been such an inspiration to so many. Girls and boys spent the time during the grave digging to collect the few flowers that remained and the seed puffs that grew where flowers had been. They made a huge collection beside the grave while they searched for more.

  At the grave side, Tuksook told the newcomers, “You didn’t know Kouchu, but the cold time protection you will have was likely made by girls she taught, when she could barely move. She never complained, she had a smile and encouragement for all. Today we bury a treasure to the People.”

  They began the circle of remembrances for Kouchu. When the circle returned to Tuksook, she said, “Mi, you will tell the creation story.”

  Mi looked at her in disbelief. “Me?” she whispered as if she’d not heard what she thought she’d heard.

  Tuksook nodded.

  Mi began in her childhood voice, “In the beginning, Wisdom made the world. He made it by speaking. His words created. He spoke the water and the land into existence, the night and day, the plants that grow in the dirt, and the animals that live on the dirt, and those that live in the water and in the air. Then he went to the navel of the earth. There he found good red soil and started to form it into a shape with his hands. He made it to look a little like himself. Then he inhaled the good air and breathed it into the mouth of the man he created. The man came to life. Then he took some clay left from the man and he made woman. He inhaled and breathed life into her. Wisdom created a feast. He killed an aurochs, skinned it, made clothing for the man and woman from the aurochs, and then roasted the aurochs for the feast. The man and the woman watched carefully and quietly to see how he killed the aurochs, how he skinned it, how he made clothing from its skin, and how he roasted it. They paid good attention and they were able to survive by doing what they had seen done.”

  “The People were special and Wisdom announced that the man was to treat the land and the water and the animals and the woman the way he wanted to be treated—good. And the same was true of the woman. And it went well for a long time. But Wisdom hadn’t made the People of stone. He had made them of dirt, knowing that they shouldn’t have lives that would go on too long, for they might become prideful and forget Wisdom. That is good, because People should not be without Wisdom. They would die.”

  “That is why the People return to Wisdom when they die. They are placed in the earth and Wisdom knows. When Wisdom hears of a death of the People, Wisdom waits until the grave is filled back. He waits until it is dark. Then he causes the earth to pull on the spirit of the dead to draw that person’s spirit back through the dirt of the earth. Wisdom draws that spirit to the navel from which all People came, the navel of the earth where the red clay for making the first man was. The spirits of the dead depart for the navel of Wisdom. That is where they reside for all time. All People’s bodies return to the dirt. But their spirit, that essence of the person made by the One Who Made Us, is pulled back to Wisdom in the place where first man was made, and Wisdom keeps all those he chooses with him there. Safe and loved. There is a cycle Wisdom made, a cycle from the navel to the navel. He keeps the spirits of those whom he chooses and he destroys those whom he hates. Wisdom hates those who hate him, those who ignore him, those who would be hurtful to him or the land or water or to those living things Wisdom made including People.”

  When she finished, Mi looked at Tuksook, silently asking whether she was successful. Tuksook smiled back with assurance. People talked quietly among themselves as they dispersed. Tuksook hadn’t moved, still struggling with what she was forgetting. She had to be prepared to act in an emergency. She wondered what emergency? She knew she was giving her mind web a staunch exercise but still couldn’t find what she was missing. Tuksook was mildly alarmed that whatever this warning was, it preceded some event that would occur soon, and she must be prepared.

  “I will go to the carved rocks by the edge,” Tuksook said. “Will you listen to Mi tell her stories?”

  Gumui looked at Tuksook with many things occupying his mind web. “But I . . . .”

  “You know the stories,” she said with her mouth, but talked beseechingly with her eyes.

  Gumui understood. “Come on, Mi, let’s have you practice your stories until after high sun, and then we will throw the sphere.”

  Mi clasped her hands in delight and ran to Gumui, who caught her and lifted her to his arms. “You’re not very big, little feather,” he laughed. He looked at Tuksook, “Take the time you need, but remember not to go to the edge side of the rocks.

  “I’ll remember,” she promised with lowered head.

  Tuksook walked to the rocks. It was a little chilly and she felt it. She walked briskly back to the bent tree house and picked up one of the sleeping skins. Tuksook pulled it around her shoulders and returned to the rocks. She sat there and suddenly she felt wrapped in another world. There were voices she couldn’t understand, and she pushed them away. Tuksook heard the voices, but they were in the distance. She ran her fingers over the tracings in the rocks. She went from one rock to another. Whoever made the carvings all spoke the same language, she realized. It was a single people, maybe many carvers, who made the carvings. Sometimes when she traced a carving, she could feel her fingers tingle. Sometimes she knew things that reasoning told her she could not know. Yet, she felt more certain of this strange knowledge than some of the things she knew in her world—things provable with reason of the mind web. She became closer and closer to the spirit from the rocks.

  Suddenly, the spirit from the rocks said, “We made these so people like you would know we were here. It’s a building to honor ourselves and to show our greatness to all who see it.”

  “Why would you make a building to honor yourselves?” she asked. “Only Wisdom is great and worthy of honor.”

  “We are a smart, strong people. We have conquered the beasts, the land, and the sea. The world should know of us. There is no god. From your imaginings and fear, you have made a god to lean on because you are weak; we are strong in ourselves. Our superior building attests to that.”

  “You fool yourself. You are dead,” Tuksook said.

  “We lived here before you. We lived here long. You built of vegetation; we built of stone. Great stone structures. You have not seen them.”

  “No, we have not seen them.”

  “You would have to trek further sou
th,” the spirit from the rocks replied.

  “We will not look for your buildings. We believe it is evil to set one’s self up for praise from others. If you do well, who needs anyone else to say that it is so?”

  “You miss much,” the spirit told her. “Adoration from others is a wonderful feeling.”

  “No, we have all that anyone could ask for right here. We have what you lack—Wisdom. We are stronger with Wisdom than you were in yourselves.” She challenged the spirit, angered at the disrespect it showed for Wisdom.

  The spirit laughed an ugly laugh. “You fool yourself, you disillusioned wretch.”

  Tuksook was irritated but remembered what to do. She’d call on Wisdom.

  “Wisdom, you are power. Please, show this spirit that he speaks nonsense. Show him your power by removing him and his people’s spirits as far from this site as possible. Wisdom, please show your power.”

  Immediately the spirit from the rocks began to sputter and then, all was silent. Tuksook sat there dumbfounded at the conversation she’d had. People built structures to themselves? What manner of men were these? She wondered at the foreign ideas. Whoever they were, they were rude, and she didn’t like them.

  Tuksook sat on the grass leaning on a rock. We don’t have to be strong in ourselves, she thought, we have faith that Wisdom who made us will provide for us when we have a need. We can even ask for his help.

  Tuksook sat up straight. That’s what she’d been missing all this time. The first thing in the event of a calamity was to call on Wisdom. She chastised herself. She’d been thinking like the spirit she asked Wisdom to ban. In the event of what she saw in nightmares, Tuksook imagined she had to do all she could. Her emphasis was on herself. It had not crossed her mind that she was supposed to call first on Wisdom for guidance in what she did and said. Tuksook had nightmares because she had not worked her knowledge into her practice of the first basic rule for Wise Ones—call on Wisdom first—just like her father had forgotten the same rule. She severely cramped in her belly. The old arrogance of her childhood reared up its ugly head and bit her again and again. She wondered whether she’d ever learn.

  She traced the carvings on the rock absentmindedly, while she watched Gumui and Mi playing with the sphere. Tuksook watched a little boy from the newcomers go to Gumui and Mi. Obviously, he was greeted warmly and the three of them played with the sphere. A few other children went to their sphere toss and also participated, all near the same age. Tuksook was delighted to see this. What a change it must be for the newcomers, she thought.

  Tuksook pressed upon the rock with her hands. Then, she felt as if she’d fallen into a downward spiral. She turned around and around as she plummeted downward. What, she wondered, what caused this?

  Tuksook landed on her feet in a white room, and she understood. “Wisdom?” she called quietly.

  “Tuksook, you learned something,” Wisdom said, suddenly transforming the room to the cave-like place she’d known for these meetings as a child. Wisdom sat on the white stone seat.

  Tuksook automatically climbed the two steps, throwing her arms around the knee of Wisdom, resting her head so she could see the familiar face Wisdom presented to her. Despite her love of Gumui, Tuksook often felt alone. In this presence Wisdom presented to her, she felt wholly complete, not alone.

  Wisdom looked very serious, not stern, but more concerned. “This is, first of all, what the spirit told you about.”

  Where Wisdom had shown her visualizations in the past, in that same place in the artificial room there appeared a vision of a hillside where a building of huge blocks of stone covered much land and rose high into the sky. It appeared that some of the top of the structure had been removed or knocked down. Pieces of stone were scattered about on the ground. The size of it was overwhelming. Tuksook wondered how people could have made anything like that.

  “Shut your eyes, Tuksook,” Wisdom said.

  She could feel herself rising up and, then, there was Eagle’s Grasp in her dream-like mind web. She flew to the south and located the large building. Tuksook was impressed.

  “The carved rocks you saw that edge the meadow are carved by different people from those who built with stone. The carvings were their attempt to communicate with others who would follow, not to puff themselves up, but to provide knowledge from their experience. It is too old to benefit you now. Things were different then. Those who built the stone structure—they are different. Do not be impressed by structures people make to honor themselves, Tuksook. It is not the right order of things. If people feel a need to do that, it’s due to their own insecurity as people, not because it’s something deserved. It causes the person honored and those close to him to think more of themselves than they should. After the age of the ice I showed you, there will be much more of this, and memorials to self will become common, feeding great pride, when none is deserving. The idea will grow and spread across the world—not just from land to land. It will spring to life in each place as if uniquely born there. It comes from the massive change in the earth. The two things are tied together.”

  “The builders of this place were so prideful that they do not reside with me in the navel of the earth. They spoke of conquering so much. They conquered nothing—not even themselves. Puffed with pride, they built wanting anyone who passed the mouth of the river to know that exceptional people lived there. Trees grow there now so that from the river and the sea, it’s hidden. They also built to the south a structure that made the one you overflew seem small and insignificant. The truth is that they were all killed when an enormous wave, higher than any you’ve ever seen or could imagine, rose from the sea and washed every one of them to the sea. Pride makes it impossible for people to see factually. They overlooked the enormous waves, just as those filled with pride overlook truth.” Wisdom paused. “Tuksook, you listened to a spirit. The spirit who spoke to you was a spirit of evil, not the voice of one who lived. That spirit will tell you enough truth to have you to believe them and then lie to you to pervert you. They always have harm in their bellies. I have warned you twice. Talk to them no more. I have removed them from the valley, but you must conquer yourself.”

  “Tuksook,” Wisdom said in a gentler voice, “I choose People who are weak, not the strong and boastful. What need do the boastful have? Their vision stops at their own skin. It is impossible to lead when your vision stops at your skin. The weak with me can overcome the strong and boastful. They can see. Remember that. In truth the strong and boastful are actually the weak, and the weak ones with me are actually the strong ones. However, you must consider what that means. You saw the stone building and were impressed. That’s not how I want you to see. That’s not how I want you to be. To be impressed is not wise. You need to know what’s important. What I want you to see is that your integrity is what’s important. Tuksook, you have a special house in keeping with my way and the way of the People. None who built the bent tree house were ever puffed up to want or find themselves deserving of praise from others at this time—certainly not far into the future. Do not guide the People to the stone buildings for they may become impressed and their bellies hunger for what they see.”

  Tuksook raised herself up and looked at Wisdom. She saw how big the gap was between the spirit of the rocks who spoke and Wisdom’s People. It was too wide for either to cross.

  “I will obey,” Tuksook said.

  Wisdom continued, “My People have within them integrity which I will liken to a crystal. Pride and seeking to be adored destroys the crystal that is their integrity. First, it fractures, and, then, it crumbles. When the crystal of integrity becomes fractured, there is the option to repair it. It would never be totally clear as a crystal, but it would still hold integrity. When there are so many factures that the crystal can no longer be repaired, it crumbles into pieces that cannot be reassembled, and integrity is lost forever, as was the case with Rimut.”

  There was a long silence. Wisdom knew Tuksook had to store the words she’d heard in her m
ind web.

  “Now, look at this,” Wisdom said.

  Tuksook watched the place in front of Wisdom’s feet where Wisdom caused her to see things. A sparkling swirl turned into the earth.

  “That’s the earth?” Tuksook gasped. The slowly rotating blue sphere was breathtakingly beautiful. She’d never imagined it. Had she tried, she couldn’t have thought it so beautiful, and she knew it.

  “Yes. This is Eagle’s Grasp.” Wisdom pointed to the image and showed her their place on the earth.

  Red lines appeared on the earth as it circled slowly. There were four of them. One arced in the water below Eagle’s Grasp.

  “The earth lives, but it lives with a life different from yours. Land moves. Sometimes there are barriers that block that progress. Stress builds up. Consider how it would be if you cleared the land to the dirt. You then pushed the dirt with your hands to smooth it. Eventually, if you kept pushing the dirt, it would pile up, and it would become too difficult to push the dirt any farther. The dirt makes a barrier at a certain point. You’d have to break through that barrier to continue to move it. You don’t move the land, but for the earth moving land must occur. When the barrier is overcome, there is a jolt while the barrier is broken. You call it an earthquake. Then the earth settles down with the stress relieved. Remember, it’s absolutely necessary to break that barrier. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Tuksook gulped.

  “I think she’s waking up,” Mi said after Gumui had tried unsuccessfully to awaken Tuksook.

  Tuksook was answering Wisdom, but Mi and Gumui took it for a question as to why they waked her. Tuksook shook her head. She’d never gone from Wisdom to the People that fast, and she felt cloudy in her mind web as she tried to assess what she’d seen.

  “The evening meal has been called, Tuksook. Take my hand.”

  She took his hand and stood. They walked to the food preparation area, Tuksook still holding the skin around her.

  “I’m glad you had some sleep,” Gumui chatted.