by Emil Toth
The old woman stared at him. “Oh my goodness, I dreamt of Durga so often. At times, it was the only thing keeping me alive. When I heard the news he took ill and was near death I never imagined I would see him again let alone his son. The gods have answered my prayers. Is Durga alive?”
“Father died last year in the arms of Mother.”
Sadness fell upon her face. Joanne was used to death and suffering, and the emotion quickly faded. “Did he marry?”
“A woman from the Searcher tribe, Leah.”
“I thought they were all dead.”
“Mother was the last to survive.”
“I can die happy he lived long enough to sire a son.”
She affectionately rested her hand on his face.
“Do not talk about dying, Grandmother. You are going to live a long time. I am not leaving here without you.”
“Oh, do not try my dear. It will cause trouble and I do not want it for you. One of us escaped and it is enough.”
“It is not. I am taking you with me. I promise you will be with me, when I leave.”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep.”
“I shall keep this one, Grandmother. I am going to talk with Kaathi about you. She will find a way for it to happen.”
“Marcel, I have to leave. If I am gone too long they hunt me down and beat me or keep food from me.”
“Please stay longer.”
“I cannot.”
He embraced his grandmother for a long time. He felt how thin and frail she was and his heart ached. He had to get her out of this miserable environment.
Joanne joyfully whispered to her grandson, “I love you. I love you. Never forget it my son.”
Both wept as she walked away. He was filled with hope; she was filled with doubt and worry.
Marcel found his opportunity to talk to Kaathi alone and related how his grandmother found him, and he desired to take her back with him to Kahali.
Tears filled Kaathi’s eyes as he unfolded his story. She felt his desire and love as well as Joanne’s love for him and his grandmother’s desire not to cause trouble. Marcel watched the mystic’s eyes and tried to sense why she was crying. He finally asked, “Are your tears of sadness or joy?”
She embraced him. “They are both. I am sad your grandmother has had to suffer as a slave for all those years. I cry for her frailty and abuse and for the years she had to endure without having Durga by her side.
“I know her heart is filled with joy for having seen and held you. I am grateful you have found her alive and have been able to share your love for each other. I am thankful you have the desire and courage to take her away from here.
“My dear Marcel, my heart is also filled with sorrow knowing you will not be able to take her away.”
“Why not?”
“There is nothing you can give the people subjecting your grandmother to slavery in exchange for her freedom, except yourself. Do you understand?”
Stunned, Marcel answered, “Yes.”
“You have a life changing decision to make. Do not make it rashly. Go into meditation and pray to arrive at the right answer. Do you wish me to meditate with you?”
His eyes roamed the environment before he spoke, “Yes. Please.”
“Very well, let us take a walk and remove ourselves from everyone. Once you have come to a decision, we can contemplate what our next step will be.”
They were far outside the village and Kaathi roamed the area until she found the energy conducive to meditate and sat down.
“Are you clear on what to do in meditation?”
“I am.”
“Good. Let us surround ourselves in love while we meditate.”
She closed her eyes and created a field of love around them. Marcel went into a meditative state and posed the question to Creator and requested guidance. A long while later he opened his eyes and cleared his throat to let the mystic know he was done. He had to do it a second and third time before she started to breathe deeply as she exited.
“Have you arrived at an answer?”
“I have. I am going to ask Carch what I need to do to take my grandmother home.”
“Very well. Let us find him.”
They found him in front of his hut. He looked at them without speaking.
“I have found my grandmother,” announced Marcel. “Her name is Joanne and she is a slave.”
Carch nodded. “I know her.”
“I want to take her back with me.”
“Has her owner given you permission?”
“No.”
“You will need it. I doubt they will give it unless they are compensated for their loss.”
“What if I offer myself in return for her release?”
Carch eyes widened in surprise. “I know Samu well. He would likely agree to it, and you would be positioning yourself to be repeatedly raped.”
Marcel was stunned. He never gave the possibility a thought. He steadied himself mentally before saying, “If he is willing to accept all I have with me, I want to take my grandmother home. If he does not want anything I own, I am willing to exchange myself.”
Carch thought, Marcel you are stupider than I thought. The last time I saw your grandmother she looked as if she was not going to see the sun rise, but it is up to you. Aloud he said, “Just in case he does accept what you own, you will have to bring it all with you. Get your things and come back here.”
Marcel left and Carch looked at Kaathi, “Was this your idea?”
“No.”
“Did you encourage him?”
“No.”
They waited in silence for Marcel to return. His hands and arms were full with weapons.
“Very well, let us walk over to Samu’s.”
The walk was short. After announcing himself Carch and the rest entered the hut. Samu, his two wives and Joanne were present. Samu looked puzzled. Protocol called for Carch to do all the talking.
“We have a situation,” announced Carch. “Joanne there is Marcel’s grandmother. He wants to take her back to Kahali. He is willing to give you all his possessions in exchange. What say you?”
Samu was uncertain what to say. To his knowledge Carch had never presided over any type of exchange.
He directed himself to his leader, “What has he got to exchange?”
Carch nodded to Marcel.
“I will give you my bow, arrows, quiver, spear, machete, long and short knives and my extra set of clothing.”
Samu noticed the bow the moment he walked in. It was shaped like no other bow he had ever seen. He had fashioned it after Sharika’s. It had a flat center to hold the bow and two near half circles in place of a near half circle.
“How did you come by the bow?”
“The design is one the Huns use. Sharika introduced it to us.”
Marcel handed it to Samu. He hefted it and pulled the string. Samu appraised it in a variety of ways. Marcel’s hopes rose. Samu gave the bow back.
“If Carch agrees to the peace treaty, I will have no need for this fine a weapon. I do not agree. Add a woman and I shall agree.”
“There is no woman. Marcel has one last offer to make,” announced Carch. “He will exchange himself for his grandmother.”
Joanne screamed softly into her hands. No my son, you cannot do this. I will not let you.
Samu was genuinely surprised at the offer. This is a startling turn of events. The old hag is hardly any good at copulation and the young buck would be a definite change. He is young and strong and can help me a lot more than the hag.
“I accept the offer.”
Joanne rushed to Carch and pleaded, “I do not want to go to Kahali. I do not want to put my grandson in harm’s way. Please do not sanction this exchange. I implore you.”
Carch saw the tears in Joanne’s eyes. Something deep inside him stirred. He remembered what it was. Her eyes reminded him of his mother’s eyes when she pleaded with his father to take her life. She had been suffering with an open
sore on her stomach. The pain made her moan miserably for several days and nights. Her only reprieve was sleep, which was fitful at best and short. He remembered his father waited until she was asleep one night and he drove his knife into her heart to end her misery. At the time he thought his father a brute. Later he saw the wisdom in the act. From what seemed a distant place, he heard Marcel make his plea to let him replace his grandmother. If he approved the exchange, the young man would not be an asset. He would protest, moan and groan about everything he confronted and was told to do. It was not worth the trouble. He took a deep breath to bring him fully into the present. “I am taking this into my own hands. I decree Joanne shall remain here and you, Marcel, go back to Kahali.”
Disappointment blackened Samu’s face. He wanted the strong healthy male.
Carch turned and walked out of the hut. Kaathi followed him, leaving Marcel to say goodbye to his grandmother.
“I am sorry Grandmother. I tried.”
“I know you did. I love you all the more for it. Go now and know I shall love you beyond my death.”
She embraced him and clung to him a long time, unwilling to let go of him. She backed up enough to kiss his cheeks again and again with all the love and tenderness she could give him. She tasted the salt of his tears on his cheeks and kept professing her love as he did to her.
Samu and his wives watched not fully understanding such tenderness and display of affection. When they finally parted a tiny part of them felt a twinge of what the grandmother and grandson were experiencing.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The mutants set aside their animosity toward the Normals and were kind enough to share their evening meal. Evette suggested each one of them be paired off with a family able to speak the common language to provide an exchange of feelings and thoughts. Carch found it a good idea. He and his son were teamed with Evette and Ashlee was paired with Gwen and her husband. These were the most significant arrangements because of past experiences.
Carch and Alex were not in the least uncomfortable sharing a meal with Evette. She on the other hand dealt with recurring flashbacks to the horrible time she and Gene had spent with Carch and his warriors. She had done a great deal of work on forgiveness, during the intervening years. She had expressed to Kaathi on different occasions she had forgiven the mutants for the atrocities they had committed. She recalled Kaathi smiling and giving her words of encouragement though never confirming the tragic event was now past her. In the midst of the mutants, her forgiveness was being challenged over and over again. She shuddered and rubbed her arms.
Carch saw her reaction and remarked, “You did not seem uncomfortable when you first arrived. I see and feel it from you now.”
“You are right. I am not with my friends.” Her voice turned raspy. “I am being flooded by images and memories of the abuse you put me and my husband through.”
She watched Carch shrug his shoulders in reply, as if it was what he and his men did to them was as natural as breathing. Clearly, he and his men had no sense of propriety, decency or morals.
“The two of you never should have been out there,” he pointed out nonchalantly.
Her voice rose in defense. “You sound as if it was our fault and our presence gave you the right to do those atrocities to us.
“It is what we do,” he said in a matter of fact tone.
“I left my village of Ebiji and my family because of male domination. Thankfully, there were no atrocities committed to the women.” Her voice shook with emotion as she continued, “We are civilized and not barbaric like you.”
“Do not talk to me about barbaric acts,” he hissed at her. “Our stories are filled with barbaric acts you Normals inflicted upon us. We retaliated whenever we had the chance.”
Evette was shocked to hear the venom in Carch’s voice. Everyone in Kahali spoke vengefully about the mutants. Only Kaathi presented alternate possibilities of why they clashed so often. She wondered which side initiated the first attack or raid. “Do your stories tell which village was the first to attack?”
The leader of the Wanderers looked at Evette and was surprised she would voice the question. Usually the Normals were prejudiced toward them. It took a long while before he decided to answer her question. “Our oldest story tells of a small band of mutants being attacked as they drew near a village. The village was not named.” He stopped and reflected a moment. “Why do you think they attacked them?”
The answer jumped into Evette’s mind. “Fear. When my husband and I saw you closing in on us, we were filled with fear by the stories we heard. Once you were clearly visible we were scared a second time by how frightening you look. The terror, abuse, humiliation and shame you put us through was close to unforgivable.”
Carch’s eyes narrowed and he growled. “You Normals are our ancestors and you did this to us. The Normals placed greed above everything else and poisoned Mother Earth and created us. What we did to you is nothing to what we have to bear everyday of our lives because of you Normals.”
She hung her head in shame.
“You are right,” he continued, “we cast fear in the hearts of all who see us. All except the one you call Kaathi. I am sure she fears not man nor beast. The oldest tale we have speaks of your fear. The last words of the story goes, ‘The last thing I heard as I fled was the Normals hated the sight of us.’ I am sure they feared someday they would look like us.”
“Have you created any stories about your encounter with Kaathi?”
“I have created one and I think some of my men have as well.”
“Have you spoken well of her?”
“Yes, I spoke of her courage and wisdom.”
Evette nodded.
Her voice was strained. “Did you ever think the reason you were stealing our women was because you craved beautiful women?”
Carch starred at her, while he thought of her question.
“It is something we rarely talk about, but I am sure it is part of why we kept making raids. Everyone prefers to look at something beautiful.”
He turned to his son, saying, “No offense to your mother, Alex. You know I never took a slave to be my concubine.”
Alex did not speak.
No one spoke for a long time. Carch reran the story of the Normals hating the sight of his people in his mind. Carch and Evette struggled with the anger boiling inside them.
Evette kept returning to the last lines of the mutant story. She recalled a story Kaathi shared of a country divided by a civil war. It took place because the two nationalities occupying the land brought up bitter memories of what took place four hundred years in the past. It was easy to see how one generation would instill hate filled stories into the next generation as they sat around the evening fires. The mutants were no different than the Normals. She saw if she and Gene would have escaped from the mutants and went back to Ebiji and told what happened to them an even greater hatred for the mutants would have developed. It did not take place. Instead she was healed and saved by a woman filled with love who helped her navigate the forgiveness road. She was now facing a crossroads where she had to make a decision. Was she going to continue hating the mutants or was she going to forgive them and go on with her life and attain peace?
Evette looked at Carch and his son. Truly she would have to classify them as ugly and frightening. It was easy to see why the Normals feared these people. The mutants were brutish and fearsome looking, yet here she was having a meal with them and discussing life altering issues. She wondered what Kaathi would say, if she were here now. The answer came as a lightening flash. She would send her love to Carch. She accepted the answer and stared at him. She floundered at sending him her love. She found his eyes and countenance disturbing and closed her eyes to concentrate on sending him love. It took some time to feel the flow of love. The moment the flow was present she opened her eyes and gazed into his. He easily saw the change in her eyes. His own changed as he grew aware of her love. She saw his eyes soften as he felt her love. Moments pa
ssed and she saw his eyes fill with tears. A great burden lifted from her heart, seeing him weep. Her own eyes filled with tears and cascaded down her cheeks.
She reached her hands out to Carch. He looked at them and took a long time to comprehend what she wanted. Eventually, his hands encircled hers. Because of her tall stature, hers were large and delicate looking in his hairy, broad, thick fingered hand. For them, the animosity and hatred they bore for each other stopped.
A huge divide had been crossed.
The bridge was love.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Gwen’s hut looked like all the others. Ashlee remembered they were all dilapidated. Nothing seemed to have changed. The last time she walked these avenues she was twenty-seven. She was now forty-five and the memories of her life as a slave flooded her sending her into the past.
Gwen had been the only mutant in the village to show her any compassion and empathy. She had basically raised and loved the child after Gwen’s mother showed no interest in taking care of her daughter.
Inside her home, Gwen turned and self-consciously touched Ashlee’s arm in front of her husband. Gwen had never revealed how much Ashlee had meant to her as she grew up. She was afraid her father would find out and beat her.
Gwen pointed to a chair. “Sit. The years have been good to you. You do not look anything like you did when you were tending me and a slave. You are…oh what is the word? Beautiful.”
“Thank you. The truth is I try not to judge a person on looks. I look for how well they treat and love me and others.”
“You have changed. Your words are much different. You have learned much since you escaped. I do not have the chance to say a woman is comely or beautiful. None of us can be considered beautiful. Perhaps it is why we rarely hear such compliments. Like you, I try to sense if a person is nice or not. I have not come across many in our tribe who are. I learned to value how nice a person is from you.”
“If it is of interest to you, Marcel’s mother, Leah, is a Searcher and her grandmother is Joanne the slave. Leah told us all of her people were loving and kind. Kaathi and Jacob, our Warrior Hunter, made friends with her and her husband, Isaac, and brought them back to Kahali. They were the lone survivors of their tribe.”