by Kurtz, Timna
“Jamila, you are a wonderful woman!” I hugged her warmly. “I too lost my little boy, and right now my biggest wish is to have another baby!” I confessed to her.
She smiled back at me. “Here, take Chamid little baby. Maybe Allah bless you to have babies too, this is Attallah, baby of God!” She said to me and handed me the sweet child that was only a few months old.
“From your mouth to Allah’s ears!” I thanked her in her language, and we both laughed with understanding. Other women came closer, asking to hold the baby and hug him too, secretly hoping that Jamila’s words would come true and become a blessing. They passed the baby around, kissing and caressing him, all feeling—even the younger ones that did not bear a child yet—their maternal instincts come to life.
The survival instincts were sending signals to the brain—and the right hormones would be secreted in time, I pointed out to myself what nature would probably do in the right way. Now that we have plenty of food, the women will soon return to their regular cycles and start menstruating and ovulating again, it won’t be long before we hear of pregnant women in our midst.
This is what I knew in my heart while looking from the side on the women in our tribe, hugging Jamila and little Jonathan, who symbolized the arrival of a new era in our lives.
* * *
Chapter 29
Around noon I was about to go up to the sacred cave to check on my patient. But when I started the climb, I saw a small group making its way down the slope: Ibrahim and Hassan were supporting Connor on both sides helping him down! He was weak, and leaned on them quite a bit, but he was standing on both his feet and walking on his own. I then remembered he was a man that healed very quickly.
Walking slowly behind them, waiting patiently and watching their every step was Jack, keeper of the tribe, ready to lend a hand if needed.
My heart started racing with excitement, joy and—fear. Doubts started gnawing at my elated heart, and my fingers were playing catch with one another without me noticing. As no one had seen me yet, I decided to avoid the encounter with Connor at this point. It’s better to let him recuperate a bit than take a risk of an unnecessary turmoil before he is well again. If he was afraid of me when he was healthy and strong, I didn’t want to think what would happen in this sensitive situation, now that I was the tribe’s leader, and my calling was realized to its full potential. Connor might be even more afraid of me now—maybe at the moment he sees me he wouldn’t want to talk to me at all?
The questions were too many. He was the one who severed our relationship and demanded outright that there would be no contact between us—and I didn’t even fight or insist that I had a right to tell him the truth because I knew that at the time, all my explanations would fall on deaf ears. But most of all, I was afraid to discover that he had no love for me in his heart…
I returned to the big cave and instructed Violet of the desired treatment for Connor should he need it, and snuck out through the hidden opening, quietly sneaking to Jack’s little cave. It wasn’t long before Jack’s handsome head peaked in. When he saw me, he looked completely surprised for a moment, not really knowing what I was doing, but before he started asking questions, I leaped from my spot, took his hand in mine and dragged him behind me into our waterfall cave, where I pounced on him with hunger and passion, devouring his lips and body. The vibe that was awakened when I saw Connor standing on his own two feet was released with delirium on Jack—who happily accepted the invitation, relishing my physical declaration that I would not be ignoring him or depriving him merely because of the presence of a potential rival.
In the following few days, I repeatedly avoided a public encounter with Connor.
I used his weak state that caused him to sleep in late to rest and build up his strength. I woke up at first light and together with Jezebel, who was an early riser by nature, we snuck quietly, tip towing so not to wake anyone up, and going to explore the new plant life on the island.
During the day I would send Jezebel to bring us some food and water, and sometimes she returned with Jihan and Thallal, who were more than happy to contribute their share.
The only breaks I took were ones that were forced on me and against my will. Each time the vibe would ignite in me, I rushed to Jack’s observation point and would drag him again to our secret love making cave, using him to exhaust my burning passions that were meant for someone else.
I excused my absence to the tribe members with the uncontrollable vibe I was experiencing and the need to comply with it. I fibbed that the fish and nuts alone could not sustain us by themselves and that we couldn’t become complacent by relying on two food sources alone. Some of the plants that were damaged by the storm were blooming again. There was a need to return to working the fields and to investigate the new plant—and that was my job. “Whoever needs me—knows where to find me!” I gave instructions to Violet and Roan that took over the leadership when I was absent.
On the third or fourth day, Jezebel returned to the area where we were working, food and water in her hands, and accompanied by Ibrahim and Jamila, who immediately gave me a warm hug. “It not be o.k. you disappear like this!” Jamila scolded me with a smile. “Me miss you! Me feel quick, when we come to island, that you like sister to me,” she explained slightly embarrassed. Maybe she was afraid I didn’t want their company.
“Oh, dear Jamila—I am so sorry. I too felt exactly like you!” I shared.
“I to think maybe you not to want us here because we are Muslims, but I say to Ibrahim you are good woman! You mother of tribe. Smart woman to know and to listen to her heart. Woman do magic and make our Neesher better—she special woman!” She showered me with compliments and kind words.
“Thank you Jamila, thank you. Your words are heartwarming,” I shook her hands warmly.
“But why you not come to see Connor? Me think you know him before and to love him many-many?” she asked naively.
“I wish it was that simple…” I exhaled lightly, trying to excuse my actions.
“Me think you are scared Connor to still be angry with you, right?” Ibrahim surprised me with an accurate question. “You to think he still angry from past, but you not to be afraid! He not to remember you. I tell him everything from time he is sick and he remember all! All his life, us, working for him, and his boy that dead too. He to remember big water and big ship and all to happen until we come here—but you, he not remember! I tell him your name, you witch, making magic in water, you wait for him and to know he coming to you, but he not to know you. I tell him you and him be together before big water, and you to love him very much and he love you too, but he not remember nothing from you!” Ibrahim described Connor’s condition that is probably suffering from partial amnesia—very partial indeed since he forgot just my part in his life!
“I wish you hadn’t told him, Ibrahim. Now he knows that there is some unfinished business between us. Before there was a chance he wouldn’t recognize me at all!” My words sounded so strange that even I doubted them. “But on the other hand, when I saw the wounded white eagle in my dream, asking for me help, he whispered to me that he remembers and doesn’t remember. Now I know what he meant,” I shared the strange scene from my dream.
“I not know nothing, great mother, but we ask and ask—but this is what he remember,” Ibrahim explained the irrational again.
“How did you call me, Ibrahim?” The nickname he gave me grabbed my attention.
“You are great mother to all tribe. All to say you know good and tell what to do. You great mother, to dream dreams with signs and future, you find holy cave with good water, you find plants to eat and make little fields for food for all—and everybody listen to you. You take little girl not belong to you and you make mother for her—this is great mother!” he repeated the name, explaining what it meant.
“Great mother…” I repeated after him silently. Sadness crept into my voice.
“Grace! ‘Ouchtee’ (my sister in Arabic) Why you be sad? Because you wa
nt baby?” Jamila read my thoughts.
“Exactly. How can I be a great mother if I can’t give birth?” I asked both of them sadly.
“You know, Jamila she be witch too. She see in your hand and tell you if you baby yes or no!” Ibrahim boasted about his wife that was looking down humbly.
“If you want, ‘ouchtee,’ I read your hand and tell future to you!” When she lifted her eyes, I could see they were gleaming with excitement, as she was yearning with all her heart to give me a present, to return her thanks and her love.
“I will be happy to!” I smiled and gave her my hand.
“Good! Come sit,” Jamila smiled with excitement, and we both sat opposite each other with our legs crossed, with both my hands in hers.
“Wait a minute, Jamila!” I stopped her before she started. “Ibrahim, if you don’t mind, I would like to be alone with Jamila. Can you please escort my Jezebel back to the cave? Some things are for my ears only,” I asked politely.
To my joy, he nodded with acceptance and understanding, and gestured to Jezebel, signaling her to join him. I blew her a kiss in the air, hinting to her that I would be alright, and I looked at them until they were farther away. Only then I placed my palms again in Jamila’s waiting hands.
She closed her eyes breathing in deeply, exhaling slowly, stretching her shoulders and sitting upright. She then opened her dark eyes that shined with a mysterious glow, bearing a secret.
“Good! We start!” She smiled and turned my palms up holding them gently, going over the many lines that were engraved in them since forever, reading and deciphering the story of my life that is written in the prints of my palms, in the marks that were grooved in them. At first, she told me of what was and was now erased and washed away. Of all that I was and no longer am—and it was all true. “Now, I finish with past and soon start tell you future,” Jamila took a little break. “I want first you to see what was, so you know me no ‘Charta’ (no nonsense in Arabic)! That I tell you only true, because ‘Ana bahibak, Ya ouchtee!” (I love you, my sister) she declared in Arabic her love for me, and couldn’t help but be in awe from the immediate and powerful bond that was created between us.
“I believe you, Jamila. I know that you will tell me the truth.” I answered with love. “I see that your heart is pure. I see it in your eyes, and I can feel it in your hands!” I described my ability to sense the person in front of me to her.
“I know you are witch woman, see heart of people inside—me see it in hand. You see future in water, every time you go up in cave, you know what to come,” she described the visions I experienced in the waters of the holy cave. “This how you see we are coming. You know like this you to see your Connor again, correct? You also know he afraid of you and angry you not right, and that is why he go and not talk with you again. But you see future and you know you meet again.”
“Yes that is true,” I confirmed her words. “He was angry and left. He said he wanted nothing more to do with me, and I felt that it wasn’t over. This kind of connection, that kind of love—doesn’t just go away all of a sudden, or at once. But I knew he would come to me, that I mustn’t go looking for him, that the time would come, and our paths would cross again. I didn’t imagine it to be under these circumstances…” I concluded my words with a whisper, with a tear running softly on my cheek when the old ache was awakened, reminding me of all the feelings I had to pack up and lock inside, with no way or clue as to when and how we would meet again.
“Chalas, Chalat ouchtee! (enough, enough my sister) No more tears! Now you only to smile—because Connor to bring many happiness to your life now! He not remember what happened, but his heart remember he love you! This is like in heart—heart remember love that head forget! You not need to tell him what to happen in past. It is not important. Past dead! Dead like for everybody. But you fight hard-hard your inside because you afraid he still angry you. You see alone—if you be afraid, you not get love from him—and this bad. You are woman, queen of tribe, you need king with you. Connor, he be king—and you know he be king. This his heart. You only look for one bird, bird to come and take baby Attalla to other island!” Her voice had raised to a frightened shriek when she suddenly realized the meaning of her words and she panicked.
“Jamila! What bird did you see?” Now I was holding her hands, trying to dredge out what I was most afraid of. “Was it a blue bird? Jamila? You have to tell me!” I shook her arms lightly. “Jamila! Look at me! I will not let anyone harm your little Attalla—do you understand me?!” I raised my voice with determination, tightening my grip on her shoulders—to make it clear to her that I would do all that is in my power to protect them. Tears were falling from her eyes when she turned her attention back to me.
“I know you protect us…” she whispered through her tears. “You also bring Attalla back to me and help other people need you, on other island, you protect them from dangerous bird!” She mentioned the bird again, and I couldn’t believe that Jack would turn against us just because Connor had come into my life—and would even kidnap a baby to another island and threaten other survivors too.
“Jamila, I am begging you, just tell me if the bird was blue. I have to know so I can prepare for it. If it was the blue bird, maybe I can change the future!” I urged her to tell me what she had seen.
“You can’t change future!” she whispered slowly and quietly, her eyes wide open, embedded in a distant invisible spot with tears pouring out. “You can’t stop bird from taking my Attalla because bird not here. Bird to live in different island. It is bad bird—a bad black bird!!!”
* * *
Chapter 30
Jamila’s awful words were left hanging in the air between us. I kept silent for a few long seconds, taking in what she had said, feeling the skin on my back crawl with fear. “Are you sure it was the black bird, Jamila?” I finally managed to talk quietly and ask her this obvious question.
“I be sure, yes!” Jamila also spoke quietly, but her voice was sure and decisive. “You think black bird dead, but it come to other island, not far from here, and he rule people on Island, taking womans and girls with no respect, hurt them, stepping them with feet. They afraid from him—only you, great mother, can beat him!” Her eyes were veiled with a mysterious and glazed gaze again as if she could see all these horrible things happening right in front of her, living and real.
“How will I beat him? How am I even going to get there? And when will he come here to kidnap baby Attallah?” I showered her with hard questions one after the other.
But Jamila suddenly shook her head, disconnecting from the harsh scenes she had seen in her mind. “I not want see more. Pain too much! Not tell more. I only see pain and now you just be busy, be happy now you have Connor—” She tried to change the subject, but I did not let it go.
“I understand this is difficult for you, Jamila, but I need to know as many details about the black bird as possible. The more I know, the better I can prepare for a confrontation with him—so I am asking you to please try to make a little more effort for me!” I spoke with determination, and to my joy, Jamila agreed to my request and took my hands again.
Again she took a deep breath, stretched her tense back, and started talking again. “I not know time black bird come take my Attalla, but it be night, very dark, when everybody sleep. You go after him with big woman, you go quiet, when no one see, and you come to island of black bird in small boat, boat we come in your island,” she described the chain of events.
“But how will I know where to follow him to? How will I tell in which direction he will turn, and where is his island?” I kept on asking.
“I not sure…” She strained her eyes as if she was having trouble seeing something. “I see symbols in water…arrows…old papers in little cave…I not understand this,” she exhaled with frustration. “I not see future anymore. Sorry, ‘ouchtee’, I tried really,” she apologized, and I knew there was no point in pushing the subject. She has gone above and beyond for me.
; “Thank you, Jamila. I really appreciate your effort,” I thanked her from the bottom of my heart.
“I see many more—but not tell to you! Me not want to remember I see like this! All my life, when I start read people hands, I not to see so much like you! I think this strong because we sisters like witch,” she smiled at me with love. I leaned in to her and hugged her close. “We are truly sisters. Do you want to be a great mother too?” I asked with a wink.
“No, No! No, thank you! I only bring up Attalla and make ten more babies to Ibrahim, so he be big papa to our tribe!” She laughed as well. The tension in both of us started to fade. “Now you listen good to Jamila! If you want get baby fast—you eat many fish. ‘Mazbut?’ (satisfied?) And if you want baby of Connor, you take him like new! Like you know him new-new. ‘Iywa’? (Yes?) Only like this you get baby girl for him. If not, you to get baby of beautiful man with blue eyes, he also good man, but he not be king like Connor. King only one!” She concluded, putting a silencing finger to my lips that were wide open in amazement now that I had heard her predictions.
“Shshsh…! ‘Ooskut!’ (quiet), you not ask questions more now. ‘Chalas’! ‘Mazbut’? (Enough, o.k?) You do what Jamila tell you, and you see that all be good!”
I nodded my head in acceptance, with my lips still closed by her fingers—and we both burst into a liberating laugh. She knew exactly what my choice would be.