“Your childhood has been cut short by Wisdom. You do not argue with Wisdom. You accept. You are to learn. Learn!” he said definitively.
He started to walk away and turned, “Soon, we will go to the grave site. You will stand in front of me. When I tell you, you will begin the first story and go through it to the end. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Wise One,” she said while her belly was ripping into thousands of pieces. She must, she knew, protect Ahriku at whatever cost to her. No longer would she sneak her food to the dog. Ahriku’s life was too precious to her to risk it.
Mootmu-na and Nanichak-na took two straightened poles and put the carrying leather on them. It made a stretcher for taking Enut’s body to the grave site. Those two and Hahami-na and Slamika would carry the stretcher.
The People and the Others gathered outside the cave. Those who were inside the cave went to the entrance to put on booted garments. There would be no one left in either cave. All would attend.
Solemnly, they walked to the grave site. Some were crying but the noise of it was negligible. It was as if the ash swallowed sound. The People were expected to balance their grief with understanding that Wisdom decided when one of the People would die. It was a tough balance when you were close to the person who died. Wamumal could not easily carry both her children, so Ekuktu carried Ekoy while she carried Smig. The stretcher had been lowered to the edge of the long side of the grave when they arrived. Enut laid there, appearing serene. The necklace was lovely.
Wamumur began to speak of the loss of Enut and what she meant to the People. She had been a good mother, a solid supporter of the People always ready to help, of good nature, who prepared unique and very tasty aurochs, and so on. Then, he started the circle. Whoever chose could either speak or nod to the next person to speak.
Totamu picked it up. “Enut was my granddaughter. She was an obedient child,” she said, staring straight at Ki’ti, “and she was also friend to everyone. She raised” she flashed three fingers “children to adulthood, while she had to live through losing” she signed ten “children to illness, war, accident, or in birth. She saved me from a serpent’s bite on more than one occasion. I approve the way she lived her life.”
Pechki went next, “Enut was my firstborn. She was one of only two of my children to make it to adulthood. She was respectful and had a wonderful sense of humor. She could find the best in situations that were not good. I turn her over to Wisdom. I will miss her sorely. That is all I have to say.” Then she sobbed.
As each of the People spoke, Abiedelai-na began to grow in discomfort. He had already become uncomfortable with thoughts of how close the Minguat had come to annihilation when they met these People and were taken in. Here, one person had died in relation to the ash. His Minguat had lost ten infants and two children. Until now, Abiedelai-na had been supremely confident in the ability of the Minguat to overcome anything the world had to bring their way. He had confidence in his own leadership. But that confidence was falling apart and he knew it, as he looked at the lifeless body of a woman named Enut that he didn’t know at all. These unpretentious People who had food when the Minguat were starving, these compassionate People who welcomed them and fed them as if they were family, these humble People who asked almost nothing in return—they had taught him so much. Knowledge and feeling were two different things, however, but what he felt from all this was vulnerability. He realized that the natural world was fine when things were fine but when things were tough, the world stood on its head. All the prior thinking and order were irrelevant. This must be what the People meant when they talked of the Winds of Change. He’d been asked, “What would your people do if you were killed in a hunting accident?” And he’d had no real answer. There wasn’t one. He didn’t know. He could guess that the hunters would fight to assume leadership. The best leader might not win. Yet, here in the midst of all this calamity, these People were conducting life as normal though all nature strove to undo them. They didn’t have a leader, yet they thrived. He’d always felt so superior but now so inferior. It was his fault that they were late in leaving their home near the mountain that spit out all the ash. He had not guessed what would happen until he almost imperiled all of them on the trek. He found himself wanting to be like them, the People, as they called themselves. He wanted the strength that came from many good minds working on problems. He wanted the bonds they shared. Instead, he cursed himself. He knew that if the tables had been turned, they’d have made slaves of the People and wouldn’t have cared what their feelings were. He was vulnerable, ashamed, and convicted of his own evil. Evil? Yes, he thought, he hadn’t enslaved these People but had those People come to them, he knew he would have enslaved them, and his men would have enjoyed their women and possibly killed the men. Abiedelai-na shuddered. He had always thought the Minguat were superior to the People. He wasn’t at all sure he still didn’t consider them inferior.
Ki’ti ended the circle with, “My aunt carries away part of my heart.”
The circle had been completed. Wamumur said, “Now, Ki’ti tell the first story.”
She stood there. He put his hands on her shoulders, since she liked to shut her eyes when she told the stories. She began in the most adult voice she could muster, loud and strong:
“In the beginning, Wisdom made the world. He made it by speaking. His words created. He spoke the water and the land into existence, the night and day, the plants that grow on the dirt, and the animals that live on the dirt, and those that live in the water and in the air. Then he went to the navel of the earth. There he found good red soil and started to form it into a shape with his hands. He made it to look a little like himself. Then he inhaled the good air and breathed it into the mouth of the man he created. The man came to life. Then he took some of the clay left from the man and he made woman. He inhaled and breathed life into her. Wisdom created a feast. He killed an aurochs, skinned it, made clothing for the man and woman from the aurochs, and then roasted the aurochs for the feast. The man and the woman watched carefully and quietly to see how he killed the aurochs, how he skinned it, how he made clothing from its skin, and how he roasted it. They paid good attention and they were able to survive by doing what they had seen done.
“The People were special and Wisdom pronounced that the man was to treat the land and the water and the animals and the woman the way he wanted to be treated—good. And the same was true of the woman. And it went well for a long time. But Wisdom hadn’t made the People of stone. He had made them of dirt, knowing that they shouldn’t have lives that would go on too long for they might get prideful and forget Wisdom. That is good because People should not be without Wisdom. They would die.
“That is why the People return to Wisdom when they die. They are placed in the earth and Wisdom knows. When Wisdom hears of a death of the People, Wisdom waits until the grave is filled back. He waits until it is dark. Then he causes the earth to pull on the spirit of the dead to draw that person’s spirit back through the dirt of the earth to the navel from which all People came, the navel of the earth where the red clay for making the first man was. The dead spirits depart for the navel of Wisdom. That is where they reside for all time. All People’s bodies return to the dirt, but their spirit, that essence of the person made by the One Who Made Us, is pulled back to Wisdom in the place where first man was made, and Wisdom keeps all those he chooses with him there, safe and loved. There is a cycle Wisdom made: a cycle from the navel to the navel. He keeps the spirits of those whom he chooses and he destroys those whom he hates. Wisdom hates those who hate him, those who ignore him, those who would be hurtful to him or to the land or water or to those living things Wisdom made including People.”
Wamumur squeezed Ki’ti’s shoulders. He was well pleased.
The People and the Others had watched and listened as this tiny child spoke strongly and forcefully and downright believably a story that related to the death of Enut and what would happen. She kept her eyes shut during the telling but her fac
e shone as if it had an internal light. It did not escape the onlookers that right beside Ki’ti sat a dog whose eyes never left her face as she told the story. Wamumur had been hard to read because he’d kept his eyes on the top of the girl’s head. He was listening, the People knew, to assure that she told the story correctly. At the end of the story, they were amazed that a child that size could remember what she had, and word had it that she knew each and every story and could tell them as well as this one. Of all the People, Minagle stood probably the most in awe of her little sister. Who could have known? she thought. She also felt a pang of concern for her sister. Recognizing how good she was at this, Wamumur would see her as a treasure belonging to the People and he would really be tough on her, probably tougher than he had been.
Abiedelai-na was the only one of the Others who understood the story. Finally, he understood a lot. The People were what they were because of Wisdom. Wisdom would be displeased if they were unkind to others. His people had no Wisdom. When they were unkind to others, they could actually consider themselves wise for having bested another. They had a word that meant wisdom but it was not a God. It meant smarter than fundamental knowledge. Clever. If you were superior in knowledge, you were considered wise. Somehow, these People concluded that Wisdom was totally separate from knowledge. Wisdom was like a person, he concluded. In fact, for the knowledgeable, it might be harder for them to become wise. He would want to learn more about this Wisdom. He questioned whether the Minguat were missing something.
The People each took a handful of dirt and tossed it into the grave, being careful not to cover Enut with it. They milled around briefly, telling the family that they were sorry that they had lost Enut. Then each one returned to their duties. The Others observed and told Hahami-na, “I’m sorry for your loss,” as they’d seen the People do.
Back in the cave, Mootmu-na stowed the stretcher and he and Nanichak-na took the needed tools and headed back to the grave site. They were surprised that Hahami-na and Slamika both joined them. There they began the process of refilling the hole and putting the protecting stones atop the grave. Nanichak-na took a moment to add another hole to his garment, signifying the loss of the wife of his son.
Wamumur seated himself and Ki’ti joined him.
“May I speak?” she asked.
Wamumur looked surprised at the request, but nodded.
“I know that I have been fighting becoming a Wise One. I found the idea not good. I wanted to run away when there was nowhere to run. But out there, when the words began to come from my mouth, Wise One, it was like Wisdom speaking through me. I felt huge. I feel like I’m about” she flashed ten “arms tall, not with pride right now, but with joy that somehow Wisdom used me to tell the story. Does that make sense to you?”
Wamumur picked her up, placed her on his lap, and hugged her so tight she struggled for a second to breathe. “That is what it is, Little Girl! That is why you don’t feel alone. You were at-one with Wisdom. That is the joy that is returned to you when you give yourself to Wisdom. There is nothing else in the world that compares with it. I have to think it’s what Enut is experiencing now that she is on the way to Wisdom’s navel. There was no way to prepare you for that, but that also means that Wisdom has definitely chosen you. Some People who tell the stories never feel what you speak of. And now, you are not to speak of that feeling to anyone but me or Emaea. There is no one else here who has any way to imagine what it is to have Wisdom speak through them or what it is to be at-one with Wisdom. There are many ways of being at-one with Wisdom. Having Wisdom speak through you is only one. You will learn. Keep silent about being at-one with Wisdom. That is only for you to discuss with Emaea and me.” He helped her get off his lap, and then he did a powerful palm strike.
She did one in return, sealing the order.
Gruid-na approached Wamumur. “May I speak with you, Wise One?”he asked.
“Of course! Do you wish to go outside?”
“That would be good.”
“One moment. Little Girl, do you need to go outside?”
“Yes, please,” she admitted.
“Go then and I will follow. Then, you are to come inside and sleep awhile.”
“But I’m not . . .” she stopped the words, “Yes, Wise One,” she said.
Gruid-na walked with Wamumur behind the child. “She is interesting, isn’t she?” he asked.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Wamumur said.
“I am here to put forth an idea from my People. It’s something all of us have discussed and we want you to think about it before we present it to all of you.”
Wamumur wondered what was coming and he was utterly unprepared for what followed.
“Your group of the People is getting very small. Ours is small. If you put our two groups together we are a little stronger. I do not favor large groups, but both of us have groups of People too small for protection if it were needed. I suggest that our groups join as one People. We also approve of you and Emaea joining if you choose to do that, and there would be no need to separate again ever until death. We think your group will approve. What do you say?”
“I think, Gruid-na, that you already know my answer. I’d have to be without Wisdom to say no.”
“Good, then I intend before the day is out to have discussed this. Perhaps Nanichak-na will have a pronouncement tonight?”
“No, he will not. ”
Ki’ti passed between the two men on her way to her sleeping mat.
“What did I tell you to do?” Wamumur asked.
“I did not forget. I must sleep,” she replied.
“Good. Do not get up until I call you.”
“Yes, Wise One.” She and Ahriku raced off to her sleeping mat.
“Looks like you have her well in hand,” Gruid-na said with a grin.
“Look again, my friend. She is like Baambas. Under that tiny exterior lies a giant of a will to do what she wants when and how she wants to do it. It will take years to get that softened.”
“Then I shall have fun watching.”
“Oh, Gruid-na, I want you, not Nanichak-na, to make the pronouncement.”
“That would be an honor, Wise One.”
“Thank you, Gruid-na. I cannot tell you how touched I am.” Wamumur actually wanted to lose more tears but could not permit himself to do that. He and Emaea had waited for about forty-five years to hear that they could join. Why it came so late in life was a good question; but that it came at all was a total mystery—or Wisdom. He looked up to see if he could locate Emaea. He saw her eyes and knew that she knew and had, no doubt, been watching him. They shared a smile.
When Gruid-na approached Grypchon-na later that day, he was surprised that the man said he had something to add to the pronouncement if it could be agreed. He said he and Likichi had thought of it and discussed it already.
“You see,” Grypchon-na said, “Teaching Ki’ti will be a full time effort. For the girl to have to be split between two sets of parents gets to be confusing. The girl obviously is the next Wise One. She should be mothered by Emaea and taught by Wamumur. They should not have to ask permission from Likichi and me for her time. It’s not like we wouldn’t see each other. But her life now is really under their control, or rather the control of Wisdom through them.”
“Will you talk to them?” Gruid-na asked.
“I am tied up with this meat preparation,” he replied wiping sweat from his brow on his arm. “Will you do it so it can be part of the pronouncement tonight?” Grypchon-na asked.
“Of course.”
Gruid-na finished his searching for the rest of the men and then spoke to the women. There was not one objection, only joy at the idea. Then Gruid-na went to find Wamumur. He had trouble locating them until he went to the lower part of the cave.
“May I interrupt you two?” he asked with a laugh.
“Of course,” Wamumur said. “We were just being young.”
All three laughed.
“Well, this may ma
ke you younger yet!” He had their attention. Gruid-na went on to lay out Grypchon-na’s proposal. Both of them were awestruck.
“That would simplify things a lot,” Wamumur said, not showing the deep joy he was feeling. His dreams were manifesting themselves, although he knew Ki’ti was a handful. At such an advanced age for him to join with Emaea and to have a child, he was so overjoyed he feared it would spill out.
“That would not only simplify things, but also it would make two old People fill up with joy,” Emaea said. “No,” she added, “I think overflow with joy is better said,” she paused. “They really want to do this?” she asked.
“Actually, it was their idea. They saw what we all saw this morning. Did you see how her face radiated Wisdom as she spoke—even with her eyes shut?” he asked Emaea.
“I did and I knew that I was witnessing an amazing thing. I think even the Others knew that something fantastic was occurring. The Winds of Change are blowing hard here.”
“They are. It is strange that you had me agree to do the pronouncement. When I got to Nanichak-na he agreed with you that I should do it.”
“Wisdom,” Wamumur grinned.
Gruid-na wanted to say that he’d had about as much Wisdom as he could handle for one day, but he knew that would be out of order. He held his peace.
“I know what you were thinking, Gruid-na,” Emaea said.
“Go back to being young again,” Gruid-na said as he turned and went back upstairs.
“Wait a minute, Gruid-na,” Wamumur called to him. “You get Likichi and Grypchon-na to tell the little girl. Tell them to make her know that she is not being rejected.”
“I will tell them. Can they awaken her now?”
“Of course, we’ll be up soon.” And Wamumur’s arms encircled Emaea and they were transported to a different world and time briefly.
When Grypchon-na and Likichi got the news that they needed to be the ones to deliver the message to Ki’ti, they braced themselves and awakened the child. They let her become fully awake before they told her that she would be mothered by Emaea. They were not rejecting her but they knew the Winds of Change and it was time for that move. Wisdom had made it clear.
Ki'ti's Story, 75,000 BC Page 12