by Socha, Walt
He tucked in his shirt. He’d washed it yesterday and hung it from a makeshift hanger to minimize creases. He wanted to look his best for Alta’s ceremony. He shook off a twinge of unease; it seemed premature for someone so young to celebrate becoming an adult. But it was definitely a big deal to her. She had been floating around Haven with a wide smile for the last couple of days.
He picked up a long leather tube and, dodging several running children, made his way to the center of Haven. Next to the fire circle, an open area had been cleared of benches and swept clean of debris. There he found a small depression about two strides long by one wide guarded by Carisa and Gusama. Both looked formidable in their cedar bark shawls adorned with shell beads and feathers. The running children gave them a wide berth. Behind the two Elders lay several folded deer hides and several small pots.
Several of the crude benches had been repositioned around the cleared area and were already partially occupied. Joe claimed a spot next to Brent and stashed his package under the bench. “Now what happens?”
“No clue.” Brent looked over his shoulder.
Joe followed his gaze to where Potts was preparing several large kettles of steaming food, helped by Sinta and Levanu. Hatimu fed wood to a newly-extended side of the fire ring that contained a dozen or so fist-sized rocks. “All I know is that Potts is preparing a very large feast.” Brent groaned, hands clasped over his stomach. “Unfortunately, I’ll probably starve to death before it’s served.”
The appearance of Tanuhu and Niminu, both dressed in leather singlets decorated with shell beads, distracted Joe from replying to Brent’s uncharacteristic bout of humor. Both elders shuffled their feet in time to Niminu’s rattle as they circled outside the bench area, their rhythmic footfalls probably providing a tactile connection to the earth.
At the cookfire, Potts shooed Sinta toward the benches but he and Levanu remained monitoring his steaming kettles. Across from Potts, Hatimu rose and joined the elder men.
“Here they come,” Brent said.
Alta, followed by Marisa, Sesapa, and Kristi, exited the medical tent. Alta wore her clothes from the ranch: her white blouse, black skirt, and red sandals. Her hair fell in braids on either side of her head. Joe’s pulse rose.
“Way cute,” Larry whispered.
She was, and not really a child either. This was a different world…
Alta led the procession to the cleared area where Marisa and Sesapa took a position on either side of her. Kristi moved to stand next to Carisa and Gusama.
“We are here today to witness the death of Alta the child and the birth of Alita the woman,” Marisa said as her hands undid the snaps and buttons of Alta’s blouse and skirt.
Joe sucked in a breath. Alta was naked underneath.
A snort from Larry revealed his surprise also.
Marisa chanted.
“The Earth grows our food.
The Earth collects our water.
The Earth receives our dead.
To Earth.
From Earth.
Alta dies.”
The men on the outer circle reversed direction. Marisa continued.
“The Earth grows our food.
The Earth collects our water.
The Earth receives our dead.
To Earth.
From Earth.
Alita is born.”
Joe told himself he needed to look away, told himself it might be bad luck or rude to do so.
It didn’t matter. He couldn’t.
He swallowed, thoughts and images flitting through his head that he banished instantly. She was still a child. A girl… He felt his face burning.
As Sesapa held her clothes, Alta kicked off her sandals and stepped to the edge of the shallow depression in the middle of the cleared area. Kristi picked up one of the deerskins and, shaking it open, laid it over the low spot. Marisa led Alta to the center of the skin and helped her to a reclining position. Kristi lifted another skin and lowered it over Alta. Sesapa picked up one of the clay pots and, circling the skins, tossed handfuls of dirt from her pot over Alta. One after another, the other women hefted their own pots and joined Sesapa in circling the prone woman.
In the outer circle, male voices chanted, “To Earth.
From Earth.”
Within minutes, a thin layer of soil covered the deerskin. Alta was buried.
The men marching in the outer circle signaled the children to joined them. Hatimu nodded to Joe. He stood and joined the end of the line of children in the outer circle, followed by Larry and Brent.
The inner circle of women stopped but the men and children continued moving and chanting. At the cookfire, Potts set bowls on a small camp table.
The elder women surrounded Alta. The outer circle of men and children stopped moving. Hatimu retuned to the cookfire where he shoveled hot stones into one of Potts’s metal buckets.
“Behold Alita, a woman of the village, Haven.” Marisa, with one hand holding Canisa for support, leaned over and pulled back the deerskin. Gusama stepped forward and helped Alita rise, the remaining women surrounding the naked Alita. Together, they walked to the newly-built sweat hut just a few strides south of Alita’s new home. There, Sesapa entered with Alita, leaving the others to stand guard in front of the door skin.
After gesturing to Joe and the others to take seats on the scattered benches, the two remaining elder men followed the women, still shuffling in time to Niminu’s rattle, but now circling the sweat hut. Hatimu carried his bucket to the doorway and placed it on the ground in front of the door. Marisa held back the door flap as a hand appeared and pulled the bucket into the hut.
Within a few minutes, tentacles of steam escaped the overlapping skins of the sweat hut. Every few minutes, Hatimu would switch out a bucket of hot stones for cooled ones. Niminu and Tanuhu kept up their shuffling chant as the Elder Women and Kristi guarded the door. After a quarter hour, the chanting stopped. The women at the doorway held open the door and Alita emerged, still naked, but now glistening with sweat. Kristi opened a bag that had been lying next to the doorway and removed a towel. Once Alita was dry, Kristi pulled out a one-piece leather dress. With the help of Gusama, she slipped it over Alita’s head.
One of the women dropped the red sandals on the ground and Alita stepped into them. She stepped forward, and the other women stepped back as she strode with her head high toward the cookfire.
Potts stepped away from the steaming kettles as Alita approached and handed her a large serving spoon.
As Alita served the Elders, Larry leaned toward Joe. “She’s the new cook?”
“I’m guessing her serving food is symbolic of her being a supporting member of the village.” Images of Alita’s naked body kept dancing through Joe’s imagination. “I wonder what’s done for the boys?” With an effort, he pulled his thoughts away from smooth skin and smoother curves.
She was still a child…
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The sun kissed the hills on the far side of the Susquehanna, casting long shadows in and over Haven. Joe stood and groaned, wondering why he’d eaten so much. Around him, a few of the children still showed signs of overindulgence. But several had recovered enough to revived a game of hoops and sticks, each team of changing members trying to drive the hoop between opposing goals of upright sticks placed in the open area between Haven and Snake creek. Frequent arguments interrupted their play. It appeared that one of the more contentious rules was no contact between opposing players. Joe grinned.
If nothing else, it prepared the children for adult life.
Now freed from her duties of serving food to the villager, Alita sat on one of the camp chairs surrounded by the Elder Women. Sesapa stood behind the chair, combing Alita’s long black hair with a bone comb. To one side, Kristi knelt, working on Alita’s fingertips with a twenty-first-century nail-clipper.
As the sun disappeared and shadows dimmed, the Elder men formed a line in front of Alita, each carrying a gift.
“I think we’r
e on,” Larry said, as he came over to stand next to Joe. “Hope my gift’s okay.”
“And mine.” Joe pulled his package from under a bench and clapped Larry on the shoulder. “Let’s find out.” Followed by the remaining men, Joe joined the elder men waiting to present gifts to Haven’s new woman. He shifted to get a view of Alita, who sat regal as a queen on her aluminum and nylon camp chair. No royalty on this continent ever had ever yet had such a high tech throne. In a few minutes, the women finished their ministrations and Alita stood. Niminu stepped forward, holding a leather bag decorated with shell beads in one hand. Alita took his empty hand in hers and brought it to her forehead as Kristi accepted the bag and placed it on the now-empty chair.
As Niminu stepped to the side, Hatimu moved forward and gifted Alita with a cedar bark box also decorated with shell beads. Tanuhu advanced next with a rolled up reed mat. The elder women cut in front of Joe and the others in line, approached Alita, and gave her gifts of clay bowls, pots and clothing.
Joe stepped forward and, with some apprehension, slipped the leather cover off an unstrung bow made from Osage Orange. What if she didn’t like it? It had seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago. Especially after he’d found a broken branch that was both seasoned and thick enough to have sufficient heartwood.
Alita’s eyebrows narrowed as Joe held up the bow. But a smile erased the puzzled frown. She took Joe’s hand but, instead of bringing to her forehead, she brought it to her cheek. “Thank you. I will practice.” As Kristi took the bow from Joe, she winked and smiled. As he moved away to allow Larry to approach, Joe caught a frown on Marisa’s face.
He’d take two out of three.
When the last of the gifts had been presented, the elder women and Alita retired to her hut, leaving the men and children to fend for themselves.
“What do you think is going on in there?” Brent nodded toward Alita’s hut.
“Sometimes it’s best to be ignorant,” Joe said as they walked toward the small field below the huts and tents where the younger children resumed playing hoops and sticks. The men paused as Niminu joined them.
“The ceremony was very good.” Niminu glanced back to the hut before facing Joe. “I would talk to you alone.” “I will see if the children will let me play.” Brent continued toward the game field.
“How can I help you?” Joe asked with what he hoped would pass for a smile. Niminu, being Marisa’s husband, was also very traditional. Joe always found himself being a bit nervous when he talked to either.
“Alita is now a woman.” Niminu put on his own smile. “My wife is distant blood to Alita. It is my duty to approach a potential husband. The Grandmothers have determined that you are suitable.”
Joe froze, mind reeling. Alita a woman? Well, yes, that was for sure. In some ways. But she was still maybe sixteen years old. And the Grandmothers had decided he should be her husband? Deep down inside, a small voice whispered that he agreed with their choice… He silenced the voice and banished the memory of Alta— Alita—rising naked from the skins. “She is…just a girl.”
Niminu took a step back. “She is the most eligible woman in our village. Is she not acceptable?”
Joe’s eyes wandered. Niminu sounded almost… affronted. And she was a relative. Could he afford to insult them? He shut his mind to that tiny, whispering voice and pretended to survey Haven for threats. The women were still in Alita’s hut. Potts sat next to the cookfire talking with Larry. Brent batted a hoop that fell over to the hoots of the children. All appeared normal. He swallowed and turned back to face Niminu. “Alita is most acceptable to me.” He took a deep breath. “But in my world, she is still a child, too young.”
“I do not understand your ways.” Niminu turned and walked away, his expression unreadable.
Joe could only stare at his back.
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Kristi blew out a suppressed sigh as she existed Alita’s hut. The Elder women had offered advice to the new woman on sex, babies, and growing food. Some of which Kristi would have to correct before Alita became sexually active. Their advice on how to delay pregnancy was at best wrong. And at worse dangerous. Maybe Brent would know about any clinical effects of the herbs they used. Once she and mister know-it-all identified them, that is.
Levanu looked up with a smile as she approached the fire circle. “How is Alita?”
“Tired and excited.” Kristi smiled. “Can I help you to your bed?”
“My wound is healing. But I would enjoy your company.”
Kristi helped Levanu stand and they walked toward the tent used by Kristi for her quarters and as a hospital. As they approached, Alita intercepted them. “Kristi, can we talk?” Moisture glistened on her cheeks in the dim light. “I am good,” Levanu said, reaching for the tent’s entrance flap.
Kristi threw him a quick smile of thanks and turned to Alita. “Let’s walk.”
They circled Haven, heading uphill to the cleared area used for archery. Alita silent.
“What is bothering you?” Kristi glanced at Alita’s stony expression.
“The Grandmothers chose a mate. But he...” Alita broke into sobs.
Kristi put an arm around her and led her to a bench overlooking the archery range. “Who did the Grandmothers pick?”
“Joe.”
Kristi allowed herself a small shake of her head. Well, this was certainly expected. Men could be so blind sometimes. She sat on the thick grass and drew Alita down next to her.
“Am I ugly?” Alita asked in a choked voice.
“You are beautiful. But although Joe is a good man, he is not very…sensitive to the people around him.”Kristi stared into the deepening night. “He is an orphan. So he has been alone a lot of his life. And in his—our—previous world, you are considered too young for marriage. He surely was afraid it was not the right thing to do right now.”
“But I am now a woman.”
“Here you are. But our world requires much learning before our children become adults.” Kristi gave Alita a squeeze. “I am not sure whether that is good or bad. It just is.”
“Because of your skills and learning?”
“I am glad that you realize that.” Kristi paused. Still, what was to be done with Joe? She’d seen the look in his eyes whenever he looked at Alita. “Joe needs time to adjust to this world. Then he will see that it is the right thing for you, and for him. Can you give him that time?”
“I can.”
Chapter 31. Day 39
Joe raised one arm then another, loosening tired muscles, and looked toward the river. He smiled as he watched several of the children working with one of the horses. Brent had them leading Flicker around, getting them used to communicating with the animal using body language.
Impatient as he could sometimes be with humans, the guy had a knack with animals.
“Real good to watch the kids, aye?” Larry’s adze scraped along a crossbeam, shaving down a high spot. The tower was almost complete, lacking only a few remaining floor planks and part of the railing for the lookout perch. Above him, Matu lashed a bundle of reeds to the roofing beams. “What about some sort of barrier?” Larry asked. “Don’t want to fall off in the middle of the night.”
“It would take forever to split planks for walls.” Joe ran his hand along the rough railing. “I saw Sesapa weaving what looked like fish net. Maybe...”
“I’ll ask her.”
Joe glanced at Larry, but the big man kept his eyes on his adze.
As Joe turned back to his end of the beam, movement along the path to Haven caught his eye. “Got company.” Joe pointed back at the rebuilt village. “I think that’s Marisa.” “That’s one scary old woman.” Larry’s adze peeled another slice from a high point on the beam. “I’m ready for that next floor plank.”
The rough board had just been muscled into place when Marisa reached them. “Morning greetings.” The elder woman looked up and slowly shook her head. “You are birds today?”
“Morning greetings to you
, Grandmother.” Joe smiled. “No, we just want to see what the bird sees.”
“I search for Kristi. She planned to hunt for herbs with me this morning.” The elder looked east. “Up into the northern branch of the valley.”
“I have not seen Sky Goddess this day,” Matu said from his perch.
Marisa looked up and frowned. “You should not insult the gods, child.”
“I am almost a warrior.”
“That you are.” Joe turned to Marisa. “And I think your gods would not fault a child. But I haven’t seen Kristi.” Joe looked at the sun. Almost noon. “When were you to meet her?”
“At sunrise.”
“I didn’t see her this morning.” Larry grunted. “Or last evening.”
“Last time I saw her was yesterday at lunch,” Joe said. “Heard her said something about Levanu and exercise. Was late for dinner, so I didn’t notice she wasn’t around.” He dropped his hammer and started climbing down the ladder. “I’ll look around for her.”
“Joe, over there.” Larry pointed to the south. “East. Downriver. Half a mile along the river trail. I see two horses approaching the garden clearing. With empty saddles.” “Matu, keep watch.” Joe slid down the remaining section of ladder and ran, Larry’s heavy footfalls behind him.
Within minutes, they reached the river trail and slowed.
Talking in a soft voice, Joe approached the horses and took hold of their reins. One was Sweetpea, Kristi’s usual mount. The other was Bitchess, one of the older mares. Levanu had been learning to ride on her. Joe handed the second horse’s reins to Larry.
Sweetpea flicked her ears at the sound of approaching hooves. Brent appeared, halting his horse next to Joe. “I saw you guys running.” Brent looked at Sweetpea. “Where’s Kristi?”
Joe looked back along the trail. They were at the eastern edge of the riverside clearing, about half a mile from the lookout tower. Two miles to the east, and just past the abandoned Two Valleys village, the river cut between the middle ridge and the river into the next valley. “Don’t know.” Joe mounted Sweetpea. “Let’s go.”