The servant nodded and cast her eyes down on the floor. She did not wish to be Bernadette’s shadow anymore than Bernadette wanted her there.
“Well, if you must be here, at least be somewhere more inconspicuous.”
The servant gave a curt bow and sat on a stool in the corner beside the wardrobe just outside the bathroom. Bernadette took a plate and some of the food to the balcony in privacy where she picked at bits of the meat and ate the vegetables off the salad.
The dusk was an orange and violet smear of color across the sky. The father moon was rising but the sun was still on the other side of the world. Bernadette often wondered what was beyond the Mármaros. She supposed she’d never know. Not that she was ever allowed to leave as it was, but once she was pregnant, Bernadette would be bed bound until the birth, never to get the chance to explore their world.
In the corner of her eye, a flash of light came from the distance. Bernadette walked closer to the edge of the balcony to get a better look. She was startled to find two glowing spots leered back at her. They were eyes. She leaned along the railing of the balcony to get a better view before the eyes turned away.
Bernadette had read about the jungle cats. Their eyes reflected even the smallest bits of light so they could see better at night. They were predatory creatures that the servants had a profound fear of, and rightfully so, only Bernadette wasn’t certain that was what she had seen.
The tide on the cove was rushing in waves driven on by the low-hanging moon. On the other side of the inlet were the fingertips of the jungle. The world seemed to go still, and Bernadette held her breath as a boy emerged from the jungle. He walked along the branch with all the agility of a jungle cat, and it was his eyes that reflected the light. He wasn’t so much of a boy as a young man. He was tall and handsome with gold-tanned skin and blond curly hair that fell wildly around his face. He was grinning at her.
She thought to shout at him, but he was a jungle boy and they were known for being mute. He could not respond even if he wanted to. The jungle boys were said to be feral and wild, but he seemed tame. He was posturing, displaying himself for Bernadette to see. He even used his hands to gesture for her to come to him. His grin was crooked and his mouth irresistible.
There was nothing beast-like about him. He wore clothing—rudimentary as it was—but still, it seemed, Bernadette’s people were lying about the jungle boys. What else were they keeping from her?
He was still grinning impishly, and she felt something within her pull. Bernadette wanted him. She wanted him, and that was all that mattered. Her heart pounded so hard it sounded in her ears and her lips parted as she began to pant.
She wanted to touch his curls and the sharp jawline that seemed in a perpetual grin. His thick, wild eyebrows did nothing to hide his unnerving green cat-like eyes. His body was lean, leaner than most, but the gait was confident as he walked along the thinnest branches, and his arms were strong enough to pull his weight when climbing the lower limbs.
In a wave of irrationality, Bernadette had to see him up close—just once—and she would accept her fate and live out the rest of her life for her people. She wanted to kiss his lips and press herself against him. It was beyond want; it was a need. She needed to escape. Slip past the servant and down the spiral staircase. At the base of the stairs was a door to the outside if she could get past the servant.
Bernadette dashed the bedroom to find the servant in the same spot she left her. Recovering her posture, she thought about what she would say. If she demanded something and the maid declined, it would be suspicious if she tried again. It needed to be a big enough distraction to keep her busy for a few minutes. Bernadette thought about what to do before realizing what she needed.
“I want a bath,” she told the servant.
The servant stood up and eyed her. She would need to run downstairs multiple times to get buckets of water. It would be an exhausting trek for one servant. “You’ll probably want another servant’s help, maybe three.”
Having more servants running up the stairs would seem more secure. Bernadette laid on her bed and pretended to read a book until the maid left the room with the door open. Bernadette snapped the book closed and grabbed her shoes before descending the stairs. With no sign of the maid, she slipped out the door and towards the jungle, abandoning the safety of her tower and the runes with their forgotten purpose.
#
The bluff had a path that worked its way down to the ocean’s cove before coming back up to the wilderness, but it was still tricky terrain. The servants used it well enough, but she had neither their agility nor their sense of balance. Accustomed to polished floors that her dense body could tread, Bernadette struggled with the uneven ground.
She wasn’t graceful like the servants, able to readjust their foothold if needed. If Bernadette fell, her body could shatter against the rocks. If the tides came in too soon, she would drown. Bernadette started to rethink the moment of madness, but another glimpse of his eyes reflecting in the darkness urged her forward.
It was wrong of her to risk her safety to meet a boy—a jungle boy, of all people. Bernadette’s whole tribe depended on her and there she was, stumbling down a rocky hill towards water she could not swim. Bernadette just wanted to be with him and then she would return. It was a promise she made to herself despite the fervent desire to see him again.
The rocks scraped against her feet as she struggled to maintain balance. Holding her large shoes helped in some strange way. The downward momentum was nerve-wracking. She was being propelled downward not only by her desire but by the weight of her own massive body.
She reached the inlet and stumbled over the rocks and sand. The tide was coming in, but just so long as she didn’t fall, she could wade through the knee-deep water. She uttered a frightened cry but looked back at the Mármaros and swallowed before pressing on. Her people had a profound fear of water because of the density of their bodies, and she was no different. The only contact they had with water was when they washed.
Bernadette slipped on a rock and fell forward. Her arms flailed in front of her. She dropped her shoes and caught a large rock despite closing her eyes like a fool. Her arms shook with the weight of her body, the fear that coursed through her veining. She thought about turning back, but he was there. He was waiting for her, and he was the only thing she’d ever wanted. Was it so wrong to know him once before living out her duty within the Mármaros?
With the water behind her, Bernadette picked up her shoes. The climb up towards the jungle was much more manageable. She planted her feet and her legs pumped onwards. At some point, she made the mistake of looking down. It felt like she was floating for a moment before her hands clutched at the rocks and she returned her gaze to the sights above. The ground leveled—she had reached the jungle.
With one final look at the Mármaros, Bernadette slipped on her shoes. Lights were being lit throughout the palace. She needed to go now or lose him forever. Wading into the greenery as her ivory dress tore on grasping branches like claws, Bernadette’s shoes threatened to sink her with each step.
She hoped the boy was still nearby. It was growing dark and she was having difficulty seeing. The shadows of the jungle were cumbersome and confusing, and her steps were planting deeper with each step. It was as if the jungle wanted to exhaust her before leaving her inedible body to be found by the creatures that dwelled here. Her chest heaved at the thought of the boy not waiting for her. Was she not worth waiting for?
The noises in the jungle grew louder and it was almost dark. Things were hooting and squawking. The traffic of bug life hidden in the leaves and floor could be heard as a collective buzzing. Bernadette couldn’t find her way back even if she wanted to. She would need to sleep here and make her way again at dawn. So much for no one noticing she was missing. The council would be furious and Thius would use this as an excuse to keep her under stronger supervision. What would her mother say? She would be heartbroken.
“Boy? Boy, where are
you?” she called out.
The jungle responded with a moment of silence before resuming its livelihood. Bernadette fell to her knees and sobbed not because of the boy, but for reasons she didn’t understand—self-doubt, perhaps. Bernadette cried for a long while, but once her sobs softened, she heard murmuring. It was the same noises the servants made. Maybe the servant came for her. She inhaled a big breath of relief at the thought.
“I’m here!” she rasped as she wiped her tears. Her dress was muddy, and her legs were cold and itchy from the dirt. She stood and looked around, though it was too dark to see anything. The jungle went silent again. “I’m here,” she repeated.
Someone lit a torch from above in a tree. The brightness from the flame made it challenging to see the wielder. It looked like a young boy. Another torch glowed this time from a few feet away. An older boy than the first, he was round around the middle and had short, black hair and brown eyes. Both wore the same sewn garments she saw the boy wearing.
Servants didn't find Bernadette. The feral lost boys of the jungle had found her.
Fear gripped her as she kneeled there surrounded by wild people. “Hello,” she said as gently as she could, hoping her tone would signify peace. Three more torches lit, and soon young boys surrounded her.
Standing beside the round boy was a set of identical blond twins. They were scrawny and naked from the waist up. On his other side was a tall boy with brown hair and a large nose. He squinted at her from behind his torch. Next to the tallest boy were two little ones, the smallest one covered in dirt. She couldn’t see what color his hair was. He moved along the trees so fast he looked like a jungle cat.
They looked at her with tilted heads and narrowed eyes. They were curious, she realized. There was an intelligence in their eyes, every bit as much as the ones her people had rescued.
The second smallest boy stepped up and touched her leg. He patted her and then bent over to poke at her shoes. She must have looked strange to them with her oversized footwear and long, white gown. Jewelry adorned her neck, wrists, and fingers, and it shimmered in their torchlight.
“I’m looking for one of you,” Bernadette spoke.
They looked at one another and shrugged before babbling amongst themselves. Bernadette had never heard several jungle people vocalize at once. They were not just making noise, she realized. There was articulation. They were speaking a language. Just because her people couldn’t understand it did not make it incomprehensible.
Bernadette’s jaw tensed as her eyes fell to the ground. She was ignorant to believe what the others of her kind said about these people. While she saw them as strange, they had intelligence outside of any education thrust upon them at the Mármaros. She had no power to change things, but when she returned home, she would have much to say about the future treatment of servants. It seemed to Bernadette that it was her people who needed to educate themselves.
The boys turned and looked at the one closest to her and they spoke to him. He looked at her and took her hand. She smiled at him like an idiot—that was all she could do. Helping her up, they led her through the jungle. Patient with her slow and clumsy steps, another boy took her other hand and led her to a cave. She was accustomed to having handlers, but she still felt a little ridiculous to need so much help from strangers.
#
They sat her down on a fallen log beside a firepit and used their torches to light the awaiting kindling. The older boys set about getting food prepared while the two little ones squawked at her. They tugged on her hair and fondled her breasts.
“Oh, no, no...” she told them and pulled their hands away.
It wasn’t just her breasts that piqued their curiosity. They stared at her hips and waist and seemed curious about her behind. She remained seated for fear that they would grope that as well. Their attention to her physique was equal to the care they gave to her shoes, her dress, and her locks. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess that they had never seen a woman before.
The fat boy brought her a bowl of water and some fruit. She smiled, thanked him, and took little bites of what they offered. Though she wasn’t hungry, she was ever so thirsty. She poured the jungle water down her throat without a second thought. She noted a strange aftertaste that she couldn’t quite describe but supposed it was fine. The little boys helped themselves to her food. It wasn’t the polite thing to do, but Bernadette wanted them to eat, nonetheless.
The littlest boy took a bite of dried fruit before trying to put the remaining piece in her mouth. It was such a sweet gesture, but she didn’t want to share food with a stranger. “Oh, no, thank you,” she said as she pushed his hand back to his mouth.
All five boys were now staring at her. It was one twin that broke the silence. “Do you think she can talk to us now?”
Her eyes went wide as her head turned to the speaker. “I can understand you,” Bernadette said, thrilled by the new development, and she began to theorize what had brought it on. Her theories went to the food at first, but her people ate the fruits foraged from this jungle. Perhaps it was the water? There was an unusual taste to it—not bad, but there was a spiced quality about it.
All the boys cheered, and the two littlest ones jumped up and down. “You can understand us,” the oldest boy said.
Bernadette did not know what to make of this. She had never read about learning languages through water, but the boy was right. It was the only plausible explanation. Her readings suggested that the jungle was rich in resources that had gone untapped. Maybe there was more to this place than her people knew.
“How did you know that would happen?” She asked.
“Alexi told us to have you drink the water,” the fat boy said.
Though she was uncertain, Bernadette decided this could have been the boy she followed into the jungle. She would need to ask them.
“My name is Bernadette,” she said. “What are your names?”
“I’m Otto,” said the oldest, tallest boy. “The littlest one there is Adam. The second littlest with the gap tooth is Gabe. The twins, Tom and Jon, and the round one there is Cal.”
Bernadette was as overwhelmed by the introduction as she was by all the questions in her mind. She didn’t know what to ask first. She supposed it would be best to start with the easiest one. “I’m looking for a young man. He was wearing leather pants and had curly blond hair.”
“You mean Alexi,” Cal, the overweight boy, said.
“Is he here?” she asked. The name spun in her mind again and again.
The boys answered in their own ways, some with head-shaking while others said no. It was Cal who seemed to give the most information. “He comes and goes as he pleases. We see him.”
“Yeah, unless he shows up to drop off another little one,” one twin said while mussing Gabe’s hair.
“He is your leader, then?” she asked.
Otto didn’t seem to like that idea. He flexed his chest and said, “I’m the oldest here. I’m our leader. Alexi isn’t one of us.”
“He’s our father,” Adam said.
“Shut up!” Jon or Tom said.
“We don’t know him. We can’t just go around telling him everything,” Otto lectured. Bernadette was confused as to the he they kept referring to, only to realize with some embarrassment that the he they were referring to was not Alexi, but herself.
“Oh, I’m a she,” Bernadette corrected.
No one seemed to know what that meant.
“I am a female. A she, her, a lady.”
The boys still did not understand what she was talking about. That explained why the boys didn’t know why she looked the way she did. Why they touched her, they had never seen a woman before.
“You do not know your mother?”
“Mother?” Cal whispered the word as though it were magic.
“Well, yes. A woman, the counterpart to your own. The one who has children, a mother.”
“You mean like the sheep who push out babies?” Tom or Jon said.
Bernadette beamed. “Yes. There are male sheep and female sheep, and the female has the babies for all species. Your kind should have a female.”
“We’ve never seen one,” Adam told her.
Bernadette realized this to be the case. These boys were raising themselves in the dangerous jungle. Their father, Alexi, did little to care for them. “Where is Alexi? Why does your father leave you alone?”
“Can we call you Birdie?” either Tom or Jon asked. She was taken back by the request. No one ever gave her a nickname before. No one ever wanted to. She rather liked a nickname. It was something friends or loved ones did for one another in affection.
“Adam won’t be able to say Bernadette,” Cal explained while poking the fire with a large stick.
“I’d like that,” she agreed. She looked around the fire but saw no signs of the boy she came there for. Bernadette could have asked them to take her back to the Mármaros, but she didn’t want to go back. It made her teeth clench just thinking about it. The jungle boys were nothing like they said. Maybe the boys didn’t know, but why would they’ve spoken with such certainty?
#
Bernadette thought about the day her opinion of the servants had changed. Life at the Mármaros was the same day in and day out. She would have breakfast and visit with her mother, study in the afternoons in the library. Sometimes Bernadette ate alone. Other times, she would eat with the rest of the tribe in the kitchens at a table alone.
One day, while eating supper in the kitchen, out of habit she thanked a servant who brought her a drink. The people around her laughed.
“May I ask what is so amusing?”
One woman with brown and clay-colored skin responded, “They don’t understand what you’re saying. Your kindness is lost on them.”
“They understand our orders,” Bernadette argued.
“They do, but have you ever tried to speak to them beyond basic things? Their minds are limited. They do not have the imagination or critical thinking skills. That’s why they’re mute.”
“I see.” She hadn’t known. She hoped they didn’t embarrass or discomfort the servant by pushing them beyond their abilities.
Daughter of the Mármaros Page 3