Tree of Life

by Sarah Joy Green-Hart

  "As for Deirdre,” Adahy said. "I do not blame anyone for wondering about me. I would, too. Considering that I came here as an outsider, I am amazed more people do not speak of me with suspicion.”

  "I am amazed anyone does,” she retorted, placing the box in her bag. "No Unified is an outsider, regardless of the community they came from. Do not let Deirdre’s opinion unsettle you. Life has been difficult for her, and she does not seem to know how to feel better. Her judgment comes from her perception, not your actions.”

  He shifted the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder. "Why do you suppose no one asks me if I am a stig as Deirdre suspects? Why have you not asked me? I arrived with no proof of anything. I might have fled from my community in shame and come to bring it here. That happens, you know.”

  Deirdre’s ears heard as well as her tongue spoke, and both parts of her were too close.

  "Walk with me?” Hesper asked. They walked a few paces past the roots of Dierdre’s tree before Hesper said, "Do you want to be asked if you are a stig?”

  "Absolutely. That way, it will be an outright challenge to my honesty if anyone speculates about me.” His smiling eyes remained fixed on her as he ducked beneath a branch.

  "Very well. Are you a stig?”

  "No. Never was and never will be.”

  "Now we have that settled, I will tell the whole community!”

  They laughed together and ended their walk beside the sprawling oak that supported Hesper’s loft.

  "Oh! I just remembered.” Hesper took the bag off her shoulder and set it on the ground to dig out her treasure. "I have been carrying this so I would have it when I saw you next. You are here one moment, then you disappear. I have to be prepared at all times.” She held out a bottle. "To repel bugs. I am sure you are out of it, so I made this for you as payment for the dandelion roots I requested.”

  "I was out of it. You’re right. But this is worth more than a few roots, Hesper.”

  "I would not have that mortar and pestle or lavender without you. This repellent does not begin to repay you for that. Hunters are heroes, my friend. You have been a special hunter for my family. With your friendship, more than your gifts.”

  He smiled. "I will bring roots the next time I come home. Have a good evening.”

  The warmth of contentment and longing flooded her chest. Why did he have to be so beautiful that her throat ached at the sight of him? "May you have a good evening, too, my friend.”

  Taking hold of the limb above her, she pulled her body upward and took to the branches in a climbing-dance she had been performing since she could run. Some in the community used ladders, but Papa felt it was dangerous in the event of a Meros night-raid. Most argued that the Meros could set them ablaze without climbing a single ladder.

  "Yes,” Papa would say, "but they do not, because night-raids are not only for killing.”

  He had seen night-raids before. They ended abruptly when Hesper was about five or six years old, so she did not remember much about them.

  Hesper’s loft was not more than twelve feet from the ground, though the oak stood tall, one of the sturdiest in her community. Her loft was the same. Papa cared for it well. So well, in fact, that he had quit hunting several years ago to repair others’ lofts, too. Hunters traded for Papa’s services with luxury items such as tools, nails, and cups. Having been both a hunter and a builder, Papa held to the belief that building and repairing lofts served his family better than hunting. Trading with hunters provided for all their needs without the risks.

  Hesper entered her family’s tidy loft through the hatch in its floor. Despite their small family size, they lived in an extravagant home compared to many other Unified. At approximately ten by sixteen feet, the loft was worthy of their sprawling oak and required two windows for light. Costly but necessary furs and hides lined the floor and walls in the winter and early spring. Hesper sewed smoked deer hides together every five years, then she and her brother, Tane, would wrap them around the boards of the structure to protect the family and their home from the elements.

  To the right, the family kept a stand with a basin for washing dishes, a low table, and several shelves of boxes containing dried food and nuts as well as cooking tools and candles. Papa’s bow and arrows, hatchet, dagger, and assorted copper knives hung on the wall.

  To the left, deer hides hung from the ceiling to conceal Mama and Papa’s sleeping area. Tane’s and Hesper’s sleeping areas, similarly arranged, were on the other side of the left half of the loft.

  Mama sat in the middle of the room, sewing a pair of leg protectors. Smiling, she looked up. "I thought buckskin would be better than birch bark.” Her fawn eyes glowed as she held up her project for Hesper to see. "Your papa’s shins seem more battered by the birch protectors than by the branches these days.”

  Hesper kissed Mama and pulled the box of cheese from her bag.

  "What a box! Where did you get it?” Mama asked.

  "Adahy brought it while I was tending to Horace, and Deirdre gave it and half of the cheese as payment for Horace’s care.”

  Mama set her sewing aside and rose to take the box of cheese to the table. After smoothing her black hair, she busied herself with gathering the night’s meal from the shelves. Slices of acorn bread and dried meat on clay plates made for the usual light evening fare of the Unified. Mama added dried blueberries with a guilty grin and poured water into two tin cups which Hesper took to the table for her. "Why only three plates? Where is Tane?”

  "Tane is staying with Tangi and his family tonight,” Mama said. She set a knife inside the opened box of cheese and sat by the table.

  Hesper joined her just as the hatch swung open and Papa hoisted himself into the loft. He drew up the rope connected to their candle-bowl and sat beside the lit candle to remove his leg protectors and give his shins a good rubbing through the deer-skin trousers.

  Mama smiled. "Welcome home, Avriam.”

  Papa grunted as he sat, then patted Mama’s hand. "Dear woman.”

  This was their way every night. Papa always rubbed his shins and called Mama a dear woman. The ancestors had said that routine ensured security, and so far, it worked well for the Unified.

  The family consumed their food in weary, amiable silence until, midway through her berries, Hesper remembered Adahy’s box. She hurried to her bag. "I almost forgot. Adahy sent this for you.”

  Mama accepted the box, stunned. Papa was slicing a piece of cheese when Hesper introduced the gift, and now he sat frozen mid-slice. Mama and Papa exchanged a queer expression.

  "What? What is it?” Hesper asked.

  "I will speak with him now.” Papa gave one last press of the knife, removed the slice of cheese, and stuffed half of it in his mouth as he slipped down from the loft to the branches below.

  "What, Mama?”

  Mama took the cheese knife in hand and cut the string around the little box, then removed the lid. The fading light made it difficult to see, so Mama held the candle beside it. There, in the palm of her hand, lay Hesper’s future.

  "Salt,” she breathed. Salt usually came in little cloth bags, though. Perhaps this did not mean what it normally meant.

  Mama smiled. "And beautiful salt, at that. Look how fine and gray . . .” She took a pinch and felt it with her fingers. "Still a bit moist.” She gasped. "Oh my, he has really invested in this, Hesper.”

  Hesper touched Mama’s arm, staring at the salt. "Mama, did you expect this?”

  Pleasantly smug, Mama shrugged. "Possibly.”

  Hesper covered her watery eyes. Why was she crying?

  "My dear girl.” Mama crooned, touching Hesper’s face. "You are blushing?”

  Hesper took their plates to wash them in silence. Time to think awhile. Or not. Not thinking about it might be better. Her unsettled stomach and pounding heart troubled her, so she grabbed the seasoning box for ginger root to grate into a cup of water. The hatch opened. Hesper jumped and whirled around to face Papa, clinging to the water basin’s s
tand.

  Papa grasped her arms with his thick, calloused hands. "Adahy has formed an attachment to you and would like to make you his wife.”

  A quick, deep breath chilled the back of her throat. "Of course, Papa. It would be an honor.”

  Papa’s smile nearly split his face in two. "He will visit with meat at midday tomorrow. I suggest you mentally prepare for this.”

  He washed his face in the bowl of water by his and Mama’s bed before tucking himself away behind their curtain, where he shuffled about and plopped down on his mat of bear fur with a tired groan.

  Mama toyed with a few blueberries on her plate, thoughtful, then she sat back and whispered, "Hesper, marriage to a hunter can be frightening. They travel far and do business with the Meros under the protection of a precarious and unofficial agreement with them. He will be gone often, and you will wonder if he might not come back. It will keep you up at night, holding your babies tightly, weeping.”

  Her brow furrowed. "He will keep secrets because hunters do not want to cause fear. They want to return to a home that has not seen the horrors they have—not even in your mind. We need peace to be unified.” She popped the last of the blueberries in her mouth. "Just remember, if he keeps secrets, it is out of love. I learned to trust those who know what the outside world is like.” A knowing smile crept up on her face as she chewed the last of her blueberries. "Still, you will be a wealthy woman, dear child.”

  Hesper’s smile did not agree with the tears on her cheeks. "I do not care for his wealth. I will be a fortunate woman with that man beside me, and I never want him to wonder if I agreed to marry him for his possessions.”

  "You think you hide how you feel so well, but we all knew you loved him. Sincerely. I am sure it was no secret to him, either.” Mama reached across the table and patted Hesper’s hand. "Go to sleep. I am staying up to finish these leg protectors.”

  Hesper obeyed and laid on her bed-pelt, surrounded by shelves of wooden boxes, a few books, and her frame drum in the corner by her head. She twisted and turned, trying to find a way to be comfortable with her full mind. No amount of shifting or wiggling could help, so she stared out the window and focused on the breeze-tossed leaves for a distraction—it failed, of course.

  Moments ago, she did not expect marriage in her near future. Now, in a week’s time, she would be a married woman.

  Why had he withheld his intent and declaration of affection in favor of gentle hints which might have been the actions of a mere friend? Strange behavior.

  The Unified communities across the nation attempted communication with each other on a large scale only once, two hundred years ago. Their ancestors sent a letter from this community to the next, passing it around the nation in hopes of establishing rules to ensure Unified survival. Of course, people were hiding, so who knew whether the letter reached everyone or not? But many of the groups were found, and while the letter seemed to be effective for the basics of their culture, two hundred years later, hunters often had members of Hesper’s community laughing until they cried as they regaled them with stories of bizarre Unified practices witnessed elsewhere. Houses on the ground? Tamed animals? Men without beards? Women with cut hair? All unheard of in this area of the country.

  Therefore, when Adahy came along with different customs and ideas, it was a challenge but not a shock. He had entered the community and requested they accept him as one of them, for he desired a new home and a new family. The Unified accepted most who claimed to be one of them unless they showed evidence of wickedness. So, the old men and women of the community questioned Adahy, and in the end, each announced their belief in his goodness.

  The sharp fellow earned a reputation for quality hunting and became an asset to the community. He even brought in a reading primer to teach anyone who wanted to learn to read. He was Hesper’s hero from the day they met, and as a skilled hunter and a good man, he never proved himself unworthy of the title.

  What had she done to deserve the attention of such a person?

  A dream of the day they met haunted her often. The dream was never about him, rather, it was about the event that brought them together. She would probably dream it again tonight after thinking so much about him.

  Turning on her side, she scratched at a knot in the wall. The dream would be just that. A mere dream. Dreams could not hurt her.

  Three | Post-Conquest: 232

  Mama’s urgent whisper woke Hesper. "Up, child! Adahy is here with elk meat! It is almost cooked.”

  Adrenaline surged through Hesper’s body as she scrambled to her feet and pulled the hide curtain aside. "Mama! Why did you let me sleep so long?” She had not had the dream she expected, and that was always a good thing, though it would have gotten her up earlier.

  Mama peered at her through the hatch opening. "I knew you would not be able to fall asleep.” She grinned.

  Hesper rushed to the water bowl and splashed its coldness on her face and neck. "I should have been helping you, Mama,” she scolded. Was she scolding Mama or herself? Both, perhaps.

  "Do not worry. I explained it to Adahy. He will not judge you for sleeping late.”

  "You explained that I was too giddy to sleep? Oh, Mama!”

  "Do not be silly! The red clover tea has been steeping overnight. Send it down to us!” Mama disappeared below the loft. The hatch dropped with the squeak of its leather hinges.

  Loose sweet red clovers floated in the pitcher of golden tea, which fit perfectly in the candle bowl. Hesper lowered it to the ground by its rope, then descended the tree and landed her steady, bare feet on the forest floor.

  Greeted by the smell of meat and applewood smoke, dancing to the sound of crackling flame, she smiled. The sweet wood almost always meant a celebration. Mama even brought out the salt for the special occasion, shaking it vigorously over the iron pan of sizzling elk and wild onions.

  Seated by the fire with Papa, Adahy cast his eyes on Hesper and stood. She bowed her head in greeting, and he reciprocated the gesture. Without a word, they sat together.

  At any other time, they interacted with relative ease and sense, but now? She would never get her hormones under control around pheromones such as his.

  Papa straightened up. "Adahy, here is your bride. In one week, we will have a ceremony, and Hesper will live in your loft. You will be unified at last.”

  "I will make you a garment for the event,” Mama said.

  "Thank you, Theia. It will be an honor to wear garments made by the best seamstress in the community.”

  "If I am, it is only because of the needles and thread you get for us, Adahy.”

  A gentle smile filled his eyes with affectionate light. "We all play our part.” Turning to Hesper, he said, "If it pleases you, I will bring chicory flowers for your hair on the day of the ceremony. I’ve noticed that when I bring them, they often end up in your braid, rather than mashed under a rock or in a pot over the fire.”

  Hesper’s face warmed. Especially appealing against the grass after a rain, pretty, periwinkle chicory flowers were a vain interest of hers. They had their uses as medicine and nutrition, but they were beautiful, too. For that reason, she rarely requested them. It did not seem right to ask for more, knowing she was too weak to resist the pleasure of decorating herself. "You are observant.”

  Adahy winked. "It’s okay to enjoy things.” He drew a leather cord from his bag, threaded through a piece of metal. A betrothal token. Careful not to touch her, he placed the cord over her head and let the cool metal rest at her collarbone. The round, silver piece featured the profile of a woman’s face with an inscription reading, "In God We Trust.”

  "A step toward being unified once more,” Papa said. "This is the chief thing, Adahy. You, who came to us without, will now have a family. And it is high time, too, at thirty-three years of age!”

  Twenty-one years old, strong, healthy, and capable, Hesper would be a part of supplying Adahy with the family he needed and deserved. However, any woman in the community could do that.
Pride grew from individualism, selfishness sprouted out of pride, and selfishness birthed disunity. Their ancestors’ many maxims concerning division rushed through her mind. She must remember that marriage was a privilege, not a right.

  Adahy bowed his head. "It is an honor to be unified with your family, Avriam.”

  Papa clasped Adahy’s shoulder, and Adahy wound his arm behind Papa’s and clasped his shoulder in return—an affectionate exchange for only the dearest friends. Papa released Adahy to take a piece of meat from the plate Mama offered.

  "I regret that our whole family is not here for this occasion. We allowed Tane to stay with Tangi last evening, and he has not come home.” Looking to the west, Papa’s eyes narrowed. "We have been too busy with this joyful business to go searching for him so far into the western wood.”

  Mama extended the plate of meat to Hesper and Adahy. They each took a piece and began eating while Papa spoke.

  "Tane is passionate about whatever he does,” he continued. "He is fiercely loyal to the Unified and shows a propensity for hunting. If only his behavior were consistent.”

  Mama sprinkled salt into the pan, shaking her head. "As girls, we were daily reminded that if we left the forest, the Meros would kidnap us, touch us, and give us their mark. If we escaped from them, we would be forced to live on the edge of the Unified community—a pariah—never permitted to marry because we had been made impure.

  “Now, it is not mentioned as often. I suspect it is because the night raids have ended. I wonder if it would help to daily remind our children again.” Mama wiped her cheeks. "I can think of nothing crueler to do to a woman than rob her of the most useful function her body offers to the Unified: new people! It is terrifying, even to me, and I have never seen a black X mark!

  "Ever since he was a little boy, Tane has been sensitive about how women are treated. His indignation is now greater than his love for unity. I understand the anger, but I worry. He grows more bronzed by the day.” Mama stared into the fire as a familiar muted grief hardened her features.