by J. Naomi Ay
“Now, now, Hannah. Such bitterness is not healthy. Come. Make your decision. I’ve got other business to attend.”
“What about Marik?” Either Marik was to be orphaned, or he would imminently acquire a brother who from the sounds of it, would become his biggest rival and threat.
“Marik is well on his way to achieving his destiny. Whatever you decide, you need not worry after him.”
So, it was entirely up to me. Live to see my next child born and then, be at the mercy of the man, or whatever he was, who stood before me. Alternatively, I could die, but I wasn’t sure that would offer me an escape. Basically, I was fucked, no matter which option I took.
“You are indeed,” he confirmed although I never voiced the thought. “You might as well choose life, if only to see where your son will go.”
I didn’t decide right then. At least, I didn’t think I had, although I couldn’t recall how he left, or how I came to be back inTuman, the village of Kudisha.
The next time I awoke, Garinka was staring down at me. She had spoon poised over my mouth and there were droplets of soup on the towel at my neck.
“Mutton bone broth always cures what ails you,” she cackled. “Although, it won't help in any way to repair your face. You were a beauty once, girl, but now, you're past your prime. This soup is good, though. I was just reminding my sister, Minka, how Mama used to make this for us every time one of us dared to cough or sneeze. Look at us. Each of us well into our years. Obviously, Mama knew what the body needed to live and stay alive. The way you are abusing yourself, you'll be lucky to make it another year.”
I must have groaned or moved my head then. Perhaps, I coughed or choked on that vile soup.
“Oh!” Garkinka gasped. “You startled me, girl. You’re awake now, are you? Good. Here, you can feed yourself.”
“My baby?” I murmured, pulling myself up to a sit. Already, my strength had returned, and with it, my senses. I was hungry, famished really, and if it weren’t for the empty pain in my gut, I would have thought the last few months were nothing but a horrid dream.
Garinka frowned and made a tsking noise with her tongue.
“Better that child should be gone before he turns into the demon he is surely meant to be.”
“What?”
“You were alone when they found you, girl.” Garinka rose to her feet and opened the door. “That child of yours is either dead or run away. Tuman! She’s awake.”
Heavy footsteps clambered up the staircase followed by Tuman’s tread upon the hard wood floors. He burst into the bedroom and immediately, called my name.
“Kari-fa, Hannah! You’re awake. You’re going to be alright. I have prayed for this moment ever since you were found.”
He raced to my bedside and reached for my hand. I let him hold it while I considered whether or not I had forgotten something about our brief affair. Had I loved him? I didn't think so. Had he loved me? Maybe so, for he kissed my hand and mumbled endearments, words I would have never thought to attach to him.
On the other hand, not long ago, I had considered him an acceptable suitor. His de Kudisha name, and his position as High Priest and minor prince would have been useful in furthering Marik’s quest. Now, I might be caring Tuman’s son. Why else would I have ended up back here? If this child was meant to reign, surely having his father around would be to everyone’s advantage.
“Oh Tuman,” I cried, pulling his hand against my cheek. “I’m so happy to be back here with you.”
“Mhm,” Garinka snorted. “I bet you are.”
“Hush, Granny,” Tuman replied. “Hannah must rest for several days.”
“Rest? She’s done nothing but rest. What she needs to do is get out of bed and go back to her home. She is not welcome here. Can you not see she is cursed?"
“I have no home,” I wept.
It was easy. I was on the verge of crying anyway. For good measure, I heaved my breasts which immediately attracted Tuman’s eye.
“You must come stay with me,” Tuman insisted. “I will care for you at my house. When you have recovered, you can decide what you wish to do next.”
Garinka rolled her eyes. She made the tsking noise again.
“You’re a fool, Tuman, just like your father and grandfather before you. Also, your great uncle. He was a fool of the first degree, but go ahead, do what you want with the little witch.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stood aside while Tuman helped me out of bed. Putting his arm around my waist, we walked through the door.
“I’ll carry you down the stairs,” he insisted.
“You’ll drop her and lose both of them,” Garinka called, and then continued under her breath, “Which might be a good thing.”
“Hush, Granny,” Tuman chuckled, smiling at me as if I should find humor in the old bat’s words.
“Just take me home, Tuman,” I said and leaned my head against his chest.
“Don’t mind her," he whispered as he carried me out onto the porch.
“Don’t mind me, eh?” Garinka followed close behind. “I don’t know anything, and I am just an old woman gone from her head? Is that what you are thinking, Tuman? Well, let me tell you something, young one. You know nothing despite how many books you have read. The truth is before your eyes but you refuse to believe what they see. And, you, Hannah, you too have been fooled.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped.
“She’s crazy,” Tuman whispered. “Smile and nod at her like everyone else in the village.”
“Mhm,” Garinka murmured. “We shall see who has the last laugh. I know more than everyone in this village times three."
Tuman laughed again and smiled at me, love clearly clouding his eyes, and his judgement.
Chapter 7
Zak
Arsan hung out with me all the time. I was home alone a lot since Mom and Dad were always at the hospital. I didn't feel like seeing any of the neighborhood kids, and Mom and Gramps had huge fight so he didn't come around very much at all. Basically, it was just me and this spooky, black haired kid who popped in and out of my house whenever he felt like it.
We watched movies and played vid games which I usually won. That kid didn't ever get the gist of the vid controller. He liked to play chess, though, and always won at that.
"Where'd you learn to play so well?" I asked, but he just shrugged.
Most of the time, he didn't answer my questions. In fact, other than his name, I really didn't know anything else about him, but frankly, I didn't care. I was just glad to have someone to keep me company.
Etan was still alive although that was only because of the machines. They were breathing for him, and feeding him through their tubes. I had overhead Dad explain to Gramps that they were hoping his brain would figure out how to do all that stuff on his own again. He was young so it could learn to use new neural pathways or something like that. In the meantime, his brain was pretty fried because he hadn't spoken or done anything else. Mom claimed he moved his thumb once when she held his hand.
"We can't give up hope," she declared. "He'll come back. I know he will."
"Too bad you can't take him to Rehnor," Gramps mumbled, not looking at Mom. "The Emperor's hospitals are supposed to be the best. The guy was a brain surgeon way back when. I bet he could cure Etan."
"That's ridiculous!" Mom snapped, and then, under breath, "The Emperor. Give me a break. Why don't you just ring up Satan instead?”
"We're not going anywhere, Pops," Dad replied. "We'll stay here and hope and pray."
"Suit yourself."
After that, Gramps left the house.
I guess I had already given up hope because I doubted Etan would ever play ball with me again. As I sat alone at our kitchen table eating microwaved Mac 'n Cheese for dinner, I imagined Etan putting straws up his nose, or farting because he was laughing so hard. Probably, that guy was gone, and never coming back.
"He might," Arsan shrugged later while beating me at ches
s. He hadn't been around all day, instead in the middle of the night, he decided to pop in. "The brain is a very complex organ."
"How do you know?" I snapped, lifting up the board and dumping all the pieces on the floor. "Are you a brain doctor or something?"
"Or something," that weird kid said, leaning back against the wall.
"I don't want to play anymore." I turned my back, and looked out the window at the stars. It was late, maybe even past midnight, and neither Mom nor Dad had come home. "Maybe, I'll run away," I announced as the stink of Arsan's cigarette filled my bedroom air. I cracked the window open a little bit, just to let the smoke out. If and when my parents came home, I didn't want them to kill me.
"To where?"
"I don't know. Maybe, I'll sneak on board a spaceplane, and run away to space."
"You can run away here, now," Arsan said. "There are forests and woodlands not far from here. I’ll go with you. I’ll teach you to hunt, and fish."
"Seriously?"
I shut the window, and turned around. That kid was watching me with his weird gray eyes. They were light, so light it was almost as if they didn't have any color. He was puffing on his cigarette, and his hair was hanging in his face.
"I know how to fish. Etan and I go all the time with Gramps."
The kid shrugged, and acted like he didn't care. "Are you coming or not?" He asked. “If not, quit complaining about your life.”
"Can I think about it?" I asked, suddenly getting cold feet. As much as I wanted to run away, hiding in the woods was a major step. It might get cold, and there were snakes near the pond, as well as bear in the forests. I wasn't too keen on getting eaten by bear, or bitten by a rattler, and left to die.
"I'm going." Arsan stood up, "Come if you want or stay here. It’s your choice, Zak, but decide quickly. Perhaps, you are still too young for this type of an adventure?"
No way! Who was he calling young? I could handle living on my own. I’d been doing it for weeks now. Actually, the more I thought about it, leaving might be a good thing. I could go far away from Etan and all this. Mom, Dad and Gramps might worry about me for a little while, but eventually, they'd get over it, and get back to Etan. All their energies needed to go to him. If I ran away, it'd probably take a load off their minds.
"Do you want to bring anything?" Arsan stood in front of my bedroom door.
"Yeah. Sure."
I picked up a wrinkled shirt, and a dirty pair of jeans from the floor. No sense in going off to hide in only my pajamas. I also found a hoodie, and slipped it over my head.
"Are we going to go through that light tunnel you use?"
"Nah. We'll walk. It’s only a short distance from here."
Following Arsan out of the house and into the night, I gazed at the billions of bright stars. From now on, I was going to be outside staring up at them every night.
Maybe, eventually, Arsan and I could go somewhere else. We could walk all the way to Arizona where I’d meet a Native Navajo, and learn ancient medicine tricks. Then, someday, I could come back to Ohio to cure Etan myself.
That would take a lot of studying, I imagined, learning the mysteries of the human brain, and the plants, and herbs that could repair it. I was never a particularly good student, but I could try to learn this. I would do it for Etan. I could fix what I had broken. I would set things right.
"Hey, Arsan?"
That kid was striding down the middle of the street as if he wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere. He was smoking another cigarette, and his bare feet were kicking up clouds of dust and dirt as he walked. Even though he looked like he was going slowly, he was moving pretty fast, and I had to run to keep up.
I was about to suggest we head to Arizona when a car turned onto the road. It was the old fashioned kind of speeder, like the one my Gramps always drove. It had four wheels on the outside, and one inside where you sat. The driver steered that one and pushed buttons to make the car go, and it always stayed on the ground, never flew up in the sky.
“Hey, Arsan! Get out of the way. You’re going to get run over. Get out of the street!”
Arsan ignored me, or he didn’t hear me on account of the car's noise. At any rate, it was dark and the driver couldn’t see him, but I wasn’t about to run into the street. I shut my eyes, and covered my ears waiting for the impact of car to kid's body.
Surprisingly, nothing happened. I didn’t hear any scream, or thump as Arsan bounced on the front hood. Instead, as I cracked my eyes open, the car had moved passed us and was already half way down the street. Arsan was still kicking up dirt and walking right where he had been.
“Whew!” I blew air out between my teeth. “You’re a lucky guy. You could have been killed by that thing.”
“Not likely,” the kid replied. “We’re almost there.”
Stepping off the road, Arsan disappeared into a neighboring field. This area was part of the government collective, and according my gramps, hadn't been planted in several years.
"Damn government," Gramps always complained. "Letting good land go to waste because some idiot at some agency calls it a wetland."
The ground was near our swimming hole, and it was wet, which meant it wasn't a good place to be walking even in daylight. I didn't want to go through there. I had an intense fear of snakes but Arsan had already disappeared so I really had no choice.
"Arsan! Wait up!" I called, running beneath the moonlight in the direction I had last seen him go. "Arsan? Where are you? Wait for me!"
An owl hooted somewhere above me, and eagle responded high in the sky. In the brush to my side, something rattled, and the leaves swayed which was the absolute last noise I wanted to hear.
"Arsan?" I squeaked. Now, I heard hissing as the snake slithered toward me. "Copperhead!" I shrieked, although my voice sound more like a whisper. I wanted to back up but I was too afraid to move. Somehow, I had to get away, but I was terrified. My knees began to quake, and warm liquid trickled down my legs. Tears flooded my eyes as the blood pulsed inside my ears.
As if I was watching from far away, somewhere high above where the eagle flew, I saw Arsan appear, and something metallic flashed. The next thing I knew, the snake's head was on the ground while his body was still writhing next to my feet.
"Come on!" Arsan grabbed my hand, and pulled me past the dead, headless snake. Somehow on trembling leaden legs, I stumbled after him. Then, I heard another noise and felt a rush of air as the eagle swooped down and took the snake away. "Hurry up. We need to hide."
“Why?”
"It's not safe here. Trust me in this."
I did. I was scared out of my wits, and unlike Arsan, I didn't have a knife or anything to fight with. I followed him up a small hill, and into what looked like a cave. It was underneath a ledge created by some boulders.
“Sit there,” Arsan ordered, indicating a rock. Then, he stood at the entrance watching the forest for something, his knife twitching at his side.
So I did. I sat there for the longest time hoping and praying there wasn't a bear or any other snakes around. My pants smelled, and my legs were trembling even though I wasn't cold. I felt like crying. Actually, I did cry on account this was really stupid of me. How was I going to walk to Arizona when there were copperheads all over?
“Stop your whimpering!” Arsan hissed, turning back to me. “Listen to me, Zak. Don’t leave this cave, whatever you do. It’s not safe. You understand? You are not safe! You must remain here until I return.”
“Ok,” I whispered, shaking like a leaf. And, I didn’t move, not for the longest time.
Chapter 8
Katie
“May I accompany you today, Red?” Dave asked, showing up at my camper with his bicycle. He wore one of those little helmets, knee pads, and a utility belt with a multi-purpose tool even though the town was a ten minute ride away. “I need some provisions, and it’s such a lovely day for a ride. You were planning on going in. Weren’t you?”
I wasn’t. I had my whole day outlined with
sowing my newly purchased seeds, clearing out another patch for a flower garden next to the north end of the camper, and taking a walk in the woods with my camera. I would also write a long email to Senya describing in great detail my day, chat with the girls on Footbook, and heat up a frozen meal for dinner.
I had no expectation that Senya would ever read or respond to my letter. He hadn’t acknowledged the last hundred I had sent. Probably, his cell wasn't even on. I tried not to be worried, but of course, it was like a constant ache in the pit of my stomach. Fear for him was always at the back of my mind.
Dave stood waiting for my answer while I knelt there in the mud, quickly contemplating a possible change in plans. What harm would there be in postponing my sowing or saving the letter until tomorrow? The night before had brought a torrential downpour of bitterly, cold rain, and the ground was almost too sodden to work with. Today, however, the clouds had moved on, leaving brilliant, crystal blue skies along with a chilly temperature.
“Alright,” I decided. “Why not? Give me a minute to tidy up.” Pulling myself to my feet, I waved at my mud-soaked knees. "I need to change into something clean and dry."
“Don’t change a thing,” Dave replied, his gaze intense, and filled with the absolute adoration of a besotted puppy. He giddily laughed, that snorting, choking noise which somewhere in the middle ended up sounding like it came from his nose.
“I’ll just be a minute.” As I climbed into the camper, Dave began to count down the seconds, presumably until I reappeared.
“You have fifty-two remaining, Red,” he sang, apparently taking me literally when I asked for a minute. “Fifty-one until she comes back to me. Forty-nine, forty-eight...”
“Please no,” I whispered, switching my pairs of jeans while wondering if I could quickly feign an illness.
Unfortunately, it was all too obvious that I had nothing more pressing to do, and frankly, I was feeling rather lonely. The truth was, the prospect of an outing with a companion, even Dave, seemed more enticing than an afternoon of digging, followed by microwaved lasagna.