The group disbanded and returned to their homes. The men who had dug the grave filled it back and placed stones on the top of it. Instead of a normal evening meal, people went to take food that was set out and they returned to their huts to eat instead of gathering together. It was such a shock that light conversation was beyond thought.
After they ate, Pipto and Token asked if they could visit Ghumotu. Olomaru-mia and Mechalu agreed immediately. The boys went. Token was concerned that Ghumotu would want to take care of his family instead of going on to school, and they wanted to encourage him to continue with school. Mechalu remained silent. He knew that once the Chief said something—that was the end of it. Ghumotu really had no choice in the matter, but he felt his boys were doing what they should do, so he remained silent.
“Do you think we made twins?” Mechalu asked Olomaru-mia.
“Dearest, I have no idea. That was not the best way to end lovemaking.”
Mechalu hugged her. The little faces of their children appeared in the light of the fire of their hearth. The little ones were happy children. The older ones were struggling to understand how a man they’d known all their life could be alive and well one minute and dead the next. Many of the children had never seen death. Mechalu looked at the children. “Death comes to us all, little ones. It is not something to fear. You simply leave this life for another one with the Creator of All.”
“I’d rather just stay with you,” the youngest said.
Mechalu and Olomaru-mia smiled. What could they say to that?
The next morning things were slow. All gathered for the morning meal, but words were slow to form and be spoken. The sun shone brightly but the day was somber.
In the shaded area in front of the hut, Olomaru-mia sat with the two boys after the morning meal. “Tell me about your school life,” she asked.
“Oh, Mother, I could not have imagined it!” Pipto said, his voice awe tinged.
“It’s a huge flat topped mountain where we went. It rises up from the ground looking like a tree trunk without limbs with a top that that got sliced off. We had to get to the top.”
“Was it very tall?”
“It made the mountains here look like little hills. It rises into the clouds.” Token was lost as he envisioned it. “Water falls from the top and there are many places where water falls.”
“We had to climb the only path that goes up to the top. It took us all day. We had to climb over rocks that were lying jumbled and some would roll when we stepped on them. It was a time you don’t look down. You just keep going up. It is like no place on earth. Once you are there, you are certain that you’re in another place on another earth.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are plants and animals there that are no place else. Nothing that grows here or in the nearby forest grows there. The things that grow there don’t grow here. There are plants there that eat bugs! Beautiful blossoms curl around bugs and devour them. You can see the plants move!” Pipto was trying to put the place into some form for sharing, but the images he remembered came so fast that he had difficulty.
“And the rocks. Don’t forget the rocks! Rocks up there are formed like animals or people. They sit on narrow props of rock. It’s as if you’re being watched up there. Huge rocks balance on the tiniest of points. It’s beyond imagining!” Token was reliving the scene.
“The school and our places to sleep lie in a great tube that was once an underground waterway. It was spooky to think that where we slept once water ran through there fast. You could see it on the walls of the cave. The cave is huge!” Pipto added.
“We bathed in pools of water that lay on the surface up there. The rocks in the pools are smooth and they form strange shapes just as the ones on the top of the mountain do. The water is very clear. You’d love one of those pools for bathing. Mother,” Token stopped, looking at his mother’s hair, “You’ve got lots of white hairs among the gold ones.”
Olomaru-mia smoothed her hair back. “It happens to all when we get old enough. Someday yours will whiten.” She had not been aware of the white hair. She’d check for herself when no one looked.
Token looked into her eyes, “The masters are strict. They expect us to act maturely and to do exactly what they say. The threat of being sent home alone frightens many kids. We both just wanted to learn, just like Ghumotu. I wanted to come home once because I felt unhappy. It rains there almost every day. I wanted sun, the sea, and my people. I got over it. One of the masters told me it’s not unusual for that to happen, but that it would pass. One of the masters’ wives brought me some sage and told me to put in in my sleeping skins. It had a wonderful calming effect.
“We had lots to learn. Once they sent us out for three days to the lower levels. I had to watch leaf cutter ants and Token had to watch army ants. We had to do that for the whole three days except when we slept.”
“I was afraid to sleep for fear the army ants would get me in my sleep,” Token admitted.
Pipto was so excited to share that he couldn’t contain it any longer. “When we got back we had to tell all the others what we observed. Two of the learners didn’t observe much so they had to repeat the experience. I told about the leaf cutters and how they carried leaf pieces they’d cut down—the leaves were huge compared to the ants—and they carried the leaves under the ground where the leaf changes form. Apparently, they eat the material the leaf changes into. We have to go out and gather our food each day. These ants bring home the material that grows what they will eat. They have stored food. If they couldn’t cut leaves for a while, they’d still have food. It’s right there available to them when they want.”
“My ants were courageous or vicious, depending on how you look at it. They attack as a group. It’s as if the entire group was a predator. They attack what moves. If a living thing stays perfectly still, the ants don’t attack. Instead of eating plant material, these ants eat meat! I’ve seen them stand on their back legs and fight as tough as any man, maybe tougher. They don’t have a leader. They just all know together exactly what to do and they do it. I get chills about it and sometimes bad dreams,” Token admitted. “I think we could learn from them how to fight wars.”
Pipto lay on his back with one leg propped on the bent knee of the other leg. He chewed a piece of grass. “We wondered when we left here why we had to carry a furred skin and a plain one. One night it got so cold up there that the three of us used my furred skin to lie down on and we covered with Token’s furred skin over our plain ones. We slept well that night, but some of the others had a cold night. Ghumotu didn’t have a furred skin. That surprised me.”
“It may be that Oscola had been struggling for some time. He may just have forgotten about sleeping skins when he helped his son pack for school,” Olomaru-mia said, wondering.
“Well, Ghumotu never got left out. He’s our friend,” Token said.
“I’m glad you boys looked out for him. You will become good men.”
Dragonflies buzzed by. One landed for a moment on Pipto’s knee.
“The best part of the experience for me was getting to work the pieces of stone. We had some sandstone and we carved it into shapes. That was fascinating how you can pull an image out of a lump of stone.”
“What did you carve?” Olomaru-mia asked.
“I carved a conch shell,” Pipto replied. “The masters liked it so much they kept it.”
“That’s wonderful, Pipto. I had no idea you would carve stones.”
“I didn’t either. I would have thought that was not manly somehow, but I discovered it is clearly a manly thing. It takes hard work to do that. You need muscles. You have to see what it is you want to give life in the stone, and then you have to free it. It takes much planning.”
“Did you carve, too, Token?”
“No, Mother, I spent most of my time on math. They show us various ways of computing numbers and I was fascinated. There is a way of using cords, knots, and loops that I wanted to master. I spent much
time doing that.”
“So some things you have to do all together and some are spent on things you choose.”
“You either choose them or the masters choose them for you,” Pipto added. “If Token had chosen something else, the masters would have kept him at math. He’s really good at it!”
“Token, you didn’t tell me that,” Olomaru-mia said quietly, wondering what his response would be, if any.
“I was afraid I might appear to boast. I enjoy math. It absorbs me. I should not be praised for something I enjoy so much.”
Olomaru-mia wondered whether her prayers to Wisdom to keep Token from pride had worked. He certainly didn’t exhibit the pride that was arrogance, a trait that looked good on no one.
Mechalu stormed into the peaceful area, clearly upset.
“What is it my husband?” Olomaru-mia asked, alarmed.
“I have been with my father. Since Oscola died, I am now to become Chief when my father dies. I never wanted that job.”
“Isn’t it an honor?” Olomaru-mia asked. Her youngest daughter fell into her lap.
“Maybe for some people. It’s one I never sought and didn’t want. Now, I’m stuck with it. I have to look at things differently. I will be trained starting now.”
“Well, my dear, the Winds of Change turned my life upside down and I am happy. I hope that the same will be said of you.”
He rolled his eyes at her and said nothing.
“I trust the masters carefully honed in on your hunting skills,” Mechalu said touching each of the boys on the shoulders. “Let’s get up now and find out. Mia we’ll only be gone a short while.”
She smiled at him. It had crossed her mind since she heard that the Chief usually stayed home in much the same way as the Wise One of the People remained at the cave, that would not make Mechalu happy at all. How could he hunt?
The boys were up and had their weapons ready. Mechalu told Pipto to get Ghumotu to join them with his weapons. The three boys accompanied Mechalu up the path into the forest. Later they would come down the same path carrying four peccaries. They would have a feast that night.
During the days that remained for the boys to be at home, Mechalu kept the three of them busy. He carefully included Ghumotu, knowing that his mother was not doing well following Oscola’s death. The Chief had determined that Ghumotu would go to the Alitukit School. Mechalu wanted to keep Ghumotu’s focus on that instead of pity for his mother and a desire to remain to comfort her. That would be the Chief’s function, not her son’s. The Chief had spoken. Mostly they would go hunting during the day, returning only late in the evening. When they returned, they took care to prepare the animals for the women’s use. They butchered the animals and prepared the skins for use or disposal.
The Nola Nola had acquired a large number of skins that were finished to incredible softness. Some had the fur left on and some were fur free. They also had stored a large number of coconuts, fruit, and other items. These were gifts they gave the Alitukit when the boats would arrive to gather the boys for the school. The boats would arrive seven days following the solstice.
The day of the solstice dawned. Mechalu had planned to take the boys hunting again. They did not have a large solstice celebration, but they did put out special food the women prepared and they would have music and dance following the evening meal. Olomaru-mia asked them to gather crabs and other seafood for the feast, rather than return to hunt forest animals. She wanted to join them and bring the other children. Mechalu could see no reason not to accommodate her wishes, so he agreed. The other children were delighted to be included. Pipto and Token had been the center of the family. The children knew the older twins were only there temporarily, but they felt pushed aside during their visit. This day they would be included.
Mechalu and Olomaru-mia had eight children. The twins were twelve years of age, next was a girl, eleven, named Sima, then a boy of nine named Mohu, a girl of eight named Poa, twins of six years named Azom and Snar, and a girl of four named Maisy. They had occasionally lost a child through miscarriage and one toddler died of snakebite. The children had skin color between the darkness of Mechalu and the lightness of Olomaru-mia. Sima and Poa had light colored hair, though not the gold of their mother. The other children had dark hair. They were exquisitely lovely to see. They were well-behaved children of the Nola Nola.
It came as a shock to Olomaru-mia to return from the privy to find Mechalu beating Sima with his hand instead of his nola nola. She knew better than to interfere, but she was horrified. She had to wait until he finished. Then she looked at him, horror plain on her face.
She looked at Mechalu still holding Sima by the arm. She was sobbing, clearly in pain. He said, “She refused to accompany us. When I told her she had no alternative, she cursed the Creator of All and said that you and I love only the boys. She has lost control of her mind and her mouth.”
Olomaru-mia had no idea how to respond, so she stood there expressionless. She had seen a few women beaten, but rarely a child. She was acutely aware that the females were the sex most frequently beaten. She wanted to protect Sima, but she didn’t want to be beaten.
Mechalu looked at Olomaru-mia and said, “Tell her she has no choice when I tell her to do something.”
Olomaru-mia knew what he said was true, so she said calmly, “Sima, daughter, you were wrong to go against your father. When he tells you to do something, you must do it. He will not tell you to do what’s wrong. You know that. You are wrong to think that you are not loved. We do love you. We love you enough to assure that you obey.” Then Olomaru-mia looked at Mechalu. “Did she tell you why she didn’t want to go?”
“I don’t care why she didn’t want to go. When I tell her she’s going, that’s the end of it. You know that, wife.” His manner was brusk.
Olomaru-mia knew she needed to talk with Sima, but now was definitely not the time. It would be good to choose a time when the boys were with Mechalu hunting. She could give Sima no sympathy now. They had to go to the sea to gather seafood. Olomaru-mia started to feel guilt for having asked to gather seafood, but stopped herself. Sima had asserted herself in a situation she knew could only bring a negative reaction from Mechalu. Olomaru-mia realized that it was not her place to carry guilt. Olomaru-mia’s only consolation was that Mechalu had not used his nola nola on Sima. She would likely have been left with broken bones. She could see from Sima’s face that Mechalu had injured her physically, but the spirit that caused the outburst still thrived. She could see it in her daughter’s eyes. Sima wept, but it seemed to Olomaru-mia, it was more from fury than acceptance of correction. He hadn’t broken her spirit. Olomaru-mia knew she had to find a way to reach her daughter as soon as possible. She knew Mechalu well enough to know that he had warned her. If she persisted, he’d use his nola nola, and she might be deformed or disabled from what Mechalu would see as correction.
They carried many bags to the sea. The other children had seen Mechalu beating Sima, and they were slightly fearful and wary that they might do something wrong. The lightheartedness that the family usually experienced had disappeared and in its place was a foreign somberness. As they descended the well-worn path, Mechalu who walked in the front put both his arms out to the side, the signal for all to stop and remain silent. He pointed to a depression in the land below. All looked in the direction he pointed. They could see three glars grazing below. Glars were as tall at the shoulder as a man, and they were longer than a man is tall. They were heavy animals with a rough coat. They were stocky like elephants and had significant teeth but nothing like the tusk or large ears of an elephant. They grazed but also enjoyed gathering greens from lakes.
Mechalu turned to face his family. “Return home. Sima, you are to go into the hut and remain there until I free you. You leave for no reason whatever. You will do as I say?”
“Yes, Father,” she said stiffly.
“The rest of you tell every hunter to come quickly and quietly.”
The family went quickly and v
ery quietly back to the village. Sima went to the hut as she had said she would, while the others notified hunters about the glars and their need for speed and quiet. Then they went to their hut where the children played in the covered place where Olomaru-mia usually spent her days protected from the sun. Olomaru-mia went inside the hut where it was hot to talk to Sima.
“My daughter, what caused you to be so disrespectful? You know you are loved.”
Sima glared at Olomaru-mia. “You don’t love us equally. Pipto and Token get all the attention and praise. And in this place girls are worthless.”
“Slow down, Sima,” Olomaru-mia said. “First, the boys have been gone for almost three years! During that time, because you are the next oldest, you have received a lot of attention, because you are special and because your help is needed with the younger ones. Second, during those three years, the boys got no attention from us at all. Third, use of the name of the Creator of All wrongly is something that disappoints me in you. You know better. Moreover, the rules and ways of doing things of the people among whom we live is harsh for women and girls. You’ve known that all your life. To anger a male or go against his pride is a sure way to bring pain to yourself, if not outright broken bones or disability for the rest of your life. What were you thinking?”
“Maybe it’s time to change how women are treated.”
“Well, if that’s your goal, you surely started the wrong way to bring about change. The first problem you have is a total disregard for the Creator of All. That has to turn around.”
“The Creator of All is a joke that people use to keep us in line.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Olomaru-mia slapped Sima’s face hard. After a brief pause where she collected herself, Olomaru-mia said, “If you wish to find out how wrong you are, I’ll have Mechalu take you blindfolded and naked to the forest to a very remote place. After seven days of being there alone, he will return for you alive or dead. However, you will find the first thing you do is to call to the Creator of All for help. You’ll find out how real the Creator of All is.” She looked into Sima’s eyes. The girl was still holding onto her arrogant pride. Olomaru-mia, having already lived where males and females were equal, had already realized that for the Nola Nola it was acceptable for males to show arrogant pride and full power over women and children, while it was totally unacceptable for a woman to do the same.
Zamimolo’s Story, 50,000 BC: Book Three of Winds of Change, a Prehistoric Fiction Series on the Peopling of the Americas (Winds of Change series 3) Page 18