My Name Is Saved

by Jameka Brown 2012

  My Name Is Saved

  Jameka Brown 2012

  Eighteen year old albino intersex Saved is born into an post-apocalyptic society where life thrives only underground. After being shunned by the God fearing villagers for merely being born different, Saved leaves the safety of Garden Home questioning God’s existence.

  Jameka Brown

  MY NAME IS SAVED

  Chapter 1

  Mama says I am not a boy and am not a girl. She says, ‘Saved, you are a gift from God and you are my child.’ Then mama hugs me tight to her soft contours as if she wishes to mold me to her. Mama doesn’t understand; she doesn’t see the way others sneak a snicker, or announce a whisper. No, Mama doesn’t understand, God forgot to make me usual.

  Chapter 2

  Long vines hang from trees that rise to the yellow sky. Water trickles along the cracks creating a sound of tranquil possibilities. Animals roam freely over the array of multicolored rock fields that make up the wilds of Garden Home.

  Sitting on a large rock I watch the water crash into the power wheel below. It spins and the twelve stone houses and the small village along the river bank become alive with electricity.

  Fields of flowers followed by large mountains separate the three villages. Each village is responsible for harvesting specific grains and vegetables that grow in the walls of the darkest corners. On this morning the people I see arriving from over the rock formation do not come for trade, not today, families arrive for the marriage ceremonies and celebrations of all eighteen year olds.

  Blue rocks form a path across the river. I hop on them as silently as I can, attempting not to disturb my parents. Our blue and black stone house sits on the side of the rushing water. I race past the stone walking path and run into the high grass. My chest heaves with life, my legs rotate with meaning. I breathe freely and keep running. Then I stop and crouch low, Trit, my white tigress friend, slinks through the grass, her back is raised on high alert. Her attention isn’t on me, but any sudden movement and she might mistake me for breakfast. Trit’s strong muscles dance to an unconscious rhythm. She crouches, I inhale, in a blink, she pounces; I exhale, perfection. Trit snaps the neck of the startled deer and down it goes.

  The bushes rustle and her four white cubs appear fighting each other for the first bite of Trit’s kill. I move to the pond separating us, sit on one of the rocks, and watch them survive. A quick wave of pain pulses my veins. I’ll never give my tainted blood to another; no children will ever come from me.

  My hand with no color rises to sight, and then I drop it and let the rippling water reveal my sin. My eyes are a brilliant lavender shade, my shoulder length hair has no color, my skin is white, but even that is being nice.

  A splash draws me away from the trail of brimming tears. Trit is walking towards me with blood splatter all over her muzzle. She greets me with a rub of her body, and in a moment of absolute surrender I latch my arms around her neck and burry my face into her fur. Her aroma of copper blood and fresh turned earth pull me slowly from the brink of despair.

  “Saved?” I hear my name, but I don’t move. Why should I go back to the village? Everyone hates me except Mama, but she has to love me. It’s in the bible. “Saved?” Mama calls again. I ignore her, I am eighteen now, the law says I do as I please. I don’t have to participate in the mating ceremony, it’s not like anyone wants to spend the rest of their days with me anyway. Trit pulls away and nudges my chin. She’s the only one that truly loves me; she’s the only one besides Mama that can even stand to touch me. Not even God touches me, and he created me. “Saved?” Mama’s honey brown figure pushes through the thick bushes. She puts her hand on her hip and shakes her head. Her hazel eyes blaze with anger and her chest rises against repression. Mama is wearing her favorite silk sheer turquoise dress with a lighter shaded shawl. “Did you not hear me calling you Saved?” She asks.

  Trit walks away, leaving me to fend off the angry woman on my own. “Sorry Mama,” I say standing up and hopping over to her.

  Mama swats me on the arm. I rub it and try for a smile. “Sorry, isn’t going to work.” She captures my eyes with hers and holds onto them. “You are beautiful, Saved. I want you to know that. You are my beautiful baby all grown up.” She shakes my shoulders. Her repetitious words never quite hit home; maybe if she wasn’t the only one uttering them, then I might believe her. “Forget the words of the villagers. You are God’s creation and therefore perfect.” Inside I tremble, but I make sure it is below physical perception so she can remain in the fog of her beliefs. Mama wraps her arm around my shoulder. At equal height she leans her head into mine and we head home. “Have you come to a decision?” All I want is to have Trit hold me again. Or maybe a gator from the swamps can drag the fist size pump from my chest. Yeah, that will work great, that will save me from answering her question. She shakes me. “Saved?”

  I run a hand over my face. Why must I choose my gender? Why can’t everyone just accept that I am both? Mama’s eager face along with the memories of her grace wars inside of me. “I want a wife,” I say. My head lulls, I want a husband, I want a wife, I want a husband, I want a wife. My God, I have no idea, at all what I want. She needs an answer, so I give her desperation. God, dear God, what have you done to me?

  Mama hugs me and a skip forms in her step. “I always thought you favored the fairer sex,” she hurries us over the dead log and through the flowered bushes. “Your chest is so small, and you’re too strong for a man to be at your side.” We pass the swing Papa made for me when I could barely walk. “You’ll be a good husband, you’ll see.” Mama squeezes me tighter. “My boy, my baby boy all grown up, and about to begin his own family.” Mama directs us into the two bedroom home and pushes me towards my room. “Get dressed in the trousers and silk top. Please tie your hair into a ponytail.”

  My feet drag the rest of me inside my room. I freeze when I see Papa’s long dark face hunched over in a chair. He’s staring at the clothing on my bed. “What did you choose?” He asks.

  “I want a wife,” I say, not looking into his eyes. Papa stands up and pushes his blue silk shirt into his white suit jacket and nearly hits his head on the ceiling. His massive hands snatch my favorite dress off of the bed.

  “God has spoken, son,” he says. He pulls me into a hug that I cannot return, and then he exits leaving me more than hollow. I touch my arms, I touch my chest, and I relish the lingering feelings of being held. It’s so foreign; Papa’s never hugged me before.

  Like the robots on the screen, I mechanically pull on the white trousers and blue silk shirt. My hands tie my hair back. There is no need to look in the mirror I already know it will show a highly unusual human being. So I walk out to Mama’s smile and Papa’s sight and hope, no pray, that I can be the man they dream of; even though I am not a man.

  * * *

  Voices reach us as we near the village. We round the tree and step into the heated light emitting from the tiny glowing insects on the ceiling. The village square has a wooden stage in the center with six girls and five boys standing on it. The small area is littered with the one hundred and twelve inhabitants of Garden Home standing shoulder to shoulder. Complexions of pale to shades of dark brown compile our home.

  Someone shouts. “That creature is a sin to our children.” A resounding agreement from the crowd pierces me. I knew I should have stayed with Trit.

  Papa stops, and I shrink into Mama’s side. “Saved.” Papa pauses, knowing that they are referring to me. “Saved is God’s creation.”

  “No, the monster is a child of the fallen and should return to the hell on Earth they have created. The child is not natural.” Breathing is not so easy anymore. I want to get angry and shout I’m human, but my belief is buried underneath lay
ers of swirling doubts. For years they have chanted against my body and soul, maybe there is truth in their words; maybe I am a mistake.

  Papa turns slowly in a circle in an attempt to catch all eyes. “God speaks through me; it is his command that I keep order in this land.” Papa points at me. “Saved is my son. He is a God fearing man, and every bit as capable as your own children to continue God’s plan.” Papa puts a large hand on my shoulder and squeezes it before he walks to the stairs that will lead him to his podium. My stomach plummets as the villagers continue to glare at me. They know I’m not a man, Papa isn’t fooling anyone.

  Mama smiles at the people in the square and directs me to the stage where the other eighteen year olds are waiting to choose their mates. Mama pushes me up the stairs then turns around to face us with the rest of the awaiting parents. Out of the eleven teens on the stage I know only a single girl, Naturi. She is the third girl in line with long blonde hair and blue eyes; I nod, she looks away, so I keep walking. She’s never spoken to me before, why do I think today would be any different?

  The moment I reach the row of boys they all shift a few feet away from me. One of them whispers, “Go home, E.T.” I make myself numb and look into oblivion. This is God’s will, I remind myself.

  Papa holds fast to his bible and mounts the platform in the center of the stage. It raises high off the ground so Papa can connect with God and recite his instructions. His white iridescent smile placates the crowd and the murmurs cease. Still my heart roars. I’m sure everyone can hear it, if not feel it’s fear.

  “People of Garden Home, raise your eyes on high and give thanks to the Lord Almighty for delivering us from deaths door for yet another year so that we may continue to repent for the sins of the past,” Papa says. The crowd worships the yellow lantern ceiling before returning their focus back to Papa. “Thank you Jesus for your forgiveness and love,” Papa begins. “Today marks the twenty second year after the Great Fall.” He waves his arm in our direction. “Today our children are no longer children, but soon to be parents of their own. Today we say good bye to the years of ownership and send our children out into the vast underworld to multiply God’s kingdom. His wrath has been heard, and we without a doubt will remain in full trepidation of his might.” Mama strolls up the stairs with grace as Papa presses on with his sermon. “As God commands it we shall commit, for we of Garden Home vow never to stray from his word again.”

  The crowd yelps an Amen. Mama picks up the bag with all of our names in it and stops in front of a tall brown boy with short black hair at the head of the line. God chooses who we marry.

  The boy sticks his hand in the hat, and pulls out a name. A smile spreads across his face. “Tinsel,” he says. A tiny girl no larger than my pinky beams and runs into his waiting arms.

  Mama moves to the girl’s side. The girl with curly brown locks puts her hand in the hat. “Vecter,” she says. Again the both of them embrace like they’ve been planning this the whole time. Two more pull, cheers and cries sound as no complaints arise.

  Naturi reaches in and her face freezes. I know the moment has arrived; the moment that I hoped would never occur has just revved its head. “Saved,” she says. All the color drains from her face. Her hand shakes and the paper falls to the floor. A commotion in the crowd distracts my failed heartbeat. Her father is racing towards the stage, his eyes are wild and he’s screaming something incoherent. I spin around and look at Naturi. She’s staring into space, her eyes are full white, she vibrates then crashes to the floor. Life is gone; life she should have cherished is gone. Her father scrambles onto the podium and pulls her into his arms. She’s so tranquil now, nothing burdens her anymore.

  More cries deafen as Mama reveals the white poisonous flower in each one of their hands. There’s only one person who knows where that grows. I look up at Papa, but his eyes remain in his bible. Why would he do this to me? I stagger, my wife is dead. Garden Home only allows one spouse for all of existence. No one had any attention of being mine. They chose the ultimate sin to a life with me.

  My head can’t stop swiveling. This is wrong, my life is wrong. I cause nothing but contaminated pain. I stand for nothing other than a reminder of what not to do. I back away, legs moving without thought, I run. I run from their eyes, from their shouts, and from their invisible daggers. Up, up through the cracks in the rocks, over the sharp protrusions and through the dense cloud of poisonous fog.

  Before the black mist welcomes me a hand sucks me back into the unblemished air. I gasp, and clutch familiarity and devotion. Neither one of them understands, neither one of them feels the consistent pin pricks, nor comprehend finality.

  I pull away from Mama. “Saved!” She wipes away the warm salty tears streaming down my face. “God loves you, I love you. What Naturi did is not your fault; it is her sin and her sin alone.” Mama’s so blind, this is Papa’s doing.

  Our hands clasp one another, but I move towards the unknown. “God doesn’t exist, Mamma,” I say using my other hand to point outside of the caves. “God died with everyone else.” He died with the people that gave me life; the people who birthed a monstrosity.

  She matches each one of my back pedals. “He gave me you.”

  I shake my head, grab a bunch of leaves and smash them to her face. They squeeze around her nose and mouth, sucking the poison away. She stalks me as I step out into the black smog. The air is thicker but it doesn’t harm me. This is where I belong. “You said God is love, all I see is hate.”

  “God is love, Saved. It’s people who are hate.” She muffles through the leaves. “Come back, love, come back to me.” It’s people that I see and hear every day.

  My foot steps into the two person boat. I gaze upon the woman who gave me everything, but protection from other’s vicious deeds. “It hurts Mama, everyday it hurts to be left out because I was born.” I rub my heart. “It hurts.” The leg that remains on the ground slowly swings into the boat. I place my hand on the screen, the back of the boat turns the water and it pulls me away from my Mama. It hurts not to be loved.

  Mama’s breathing leaves begin to wilt, and she coughs. “Be safe my child, I hope you find whatever you are looking for.” She hurries back into the safety of clean air just as the ground shakes and rocks cover the cave opening. My pulse quickens, the quakes are getting worse. There is nothing I can do from this side, or anything I truly want to do. So I continue into the sea with nowhere to go, and no reason to live.

  Eighteen years ago Mama found me lying in a boat wrapped in a blanket; she said I changed her life. Papa said God makes no mistakes. It took me this long to realize that Papa means I am not one of God’s children. If God created all life on Earth, how did he forget about me?

  Chapter 3

  I lie in the bottom of the boat curled into a closed fetal position. If I don’t look then I can’t see the last minutes of my life washing away. If I don’t move then I can’t feel the end. These have been my only thoughts for the last day or maybe it’s been two or three.

  Thirst grinds against dry organs, and hunger sucks at whatever it can to abate its neglect. None of this matter, none of this will even be a stray thought. Soon it’ll be over and the last mistake on earth will cease to exist. Too bad I never found my love.

  Mama’s sharp features pop into my memory. She always found something to smile about. Mama, I think, she never did give up on me. Not even when the adults, her fallers, locked me inside a hollow tree. She searched and searched never resting, never eating until she found a cloth that an adult had left behind by the bark of the tree. There I was almost beyond death, but she nursed me back to health, she poured every ounce of her strength into me so that I can live. And this is how I repay her, by giving up? A small prick punctures my chest. The woman who walked out into the quickest poison without the aid of the leaves, because she had a dream; nearly died to give me course, and this is how I repay her?

  Why didn’t I ever tell her it was Papa who locked me in the tree while we were hunting? Why
didn’t I tell her it was Papa who filled the villagers head with disgust for me? Why didn’t I ever say one bad thing about Papa to her?

  Mama loves him, that’s why. When they’re together she shines. The time he tried to force me to choose my gender was the saddest she’s ever been. Most days she wouldn’t even talk to me or look at me. Mama loves him, I couldn’t destroy that. She loves me too and she wouldn’t want me to quit fighting.

  It’s a good thing Mama isn’t here to witness me shrivel. My motivation has come a little too late. Not a single limb wishes to move at the moment. My body only sees dying. But Mama’s lovely face and her easy smile keep me company through the turbulent black waters.

  Warmth touches my hand, it close my eyes, and caresses my body. I gladly fall into it.

  “Saved?” A voice like Mama’s speaks into my ear. “Saved? Wake up, honey.” A hand pushes my hair out of my face. Mama used to do that. “Open your eyes Saved. It’s time to get up.”

  I push the hand away and turn from the voice. “Five more minutes, Mama.”

  The soft caress spreads down my back. “No more minutes Saved.” Mama lifts me up until I’m sitting. I open my eyes slowly. Mama’s sitting there with her hair spun in a bun. A pen is sticking out of one side and a stirring spoon in the other. She’s been writing and cooking at the same time again.

  I pull the spoon out of her head like I always do, and lick the icing. “Hmm, cake for breakfast.” Mama laughs, and I join in.”

  “I love you, my child.”

  “Love you too, Mama,” I say and hug her. She pulls away. She places her hands on my shoulders.

  “I see how much the words of the villagers hurt you Saved. And I wish I could do something to make it better for you.” I open my mouth to say something but she puts a finger to my lips. “It’s not okay, Saved. What they do to you is not okay. I want you to know that God creates everyone for a reason.” Mama puts her hands in mine now. “I know it may be hard to see now, but one day, Saved, you will know God’s plan.” Mama runs her hand through my hair and walks to the door. “Now get up.”