Ki'ti's Story, 75,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  Ki’ti covered her face and cried quietly. “Is it because I shamed you?” she asked.

  Likichi threw her arms around her daughter and assured her that they fully approved her. Likichi said, “When you told the story with your eyes shut today, did you not feel something wonderfully strange and new?”

  Ki’ti had promised not to tell people about what happened to her, but she did answer, “Yes.”

  “That is why we are doing this. Emaea and Wamumur both live in the world you were in today. They can help you grow into it. We cannot. We don’t know that world.” Likichi put her fingers to Ki’ti’s mouth. “Be careful not to say something which you should not say, Dear One.”

  Ki’ti’s eyes clouded with tears as she looked at her parents. “You will still be here? Minagle will still be my sister? My brothers will be my brothers? If I want to talk to you, it is permitted?”

  “Of course, we will be right here. But the mothering will be done by someone who can truly mother a Wise One. Someone, for example, who knows after storytelling you must sleep. I had no idea.”

  Ki’ti’s eyes pierced her mother to the bottom of her belly. “You are sure they can mother and father me better than you?”

  “Yes, because you are going to be a Wise One. Now, didn’t you need to sleep?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “but I didn’t know it. I felt like I could go on sleepless forever. Yet I am tired even now.”

  “These are things they are better equipped to handle. It would be inefficient if they had to come to us to tell us when you need to sleep. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. It is hard to learn to be a Wise One.”

  Her mother laid her fingers to Ki’ti’s lips again. “Don’t, my Dear One. Don’t think like that. Wisdom chose you and that ends it. Nobody can help you but you yourself. The only way you can help yourself is to give up your own wants and give Wisdom what is Wisdom’s due. We all understand that, but usually it takes us until we’re grown to understand. For you it is very early. And that’s why we have done this thing. We do it because we love you and we respect Wisdom. Ki’ti, you must do your best. Do not shame us now that this has happened. Do not shame your new parents. Instead, make us all approve you. Will you do this?”

  “Oh, Mother, I will try with all I have in my belly to do as you wish.”

  “Very well, now and for the future, you address your father as Grypchon-na and me as Likichi. Do not call us Mother and Father again.”

  Tears welled up in Ki’ti’s eyes. Her back was as stiff as a board. “Very well, Likichi and Grypchon-na, does that also mean I have to move my sleeping mat?”

  “Yes, but not until after the pronouncement.”

  “What will my sister think?”

  “Your sister will understand,” Grypchon-na said with assurance.

  Ki’ti picked up her dog and hugged him tight. “Grypchon-na, will you please accompany me outside?”

  “Of course.” He and the dog followed her outside.

  “My husband, what is troubling you,” Pu asked in another part of the cave.

  Abiedelai-na sighed.

  “You look like a lake troubled by rough wind. What is it?”

  Abiedelai-na looked around. No one was near enough to hear that he spoke very quietly in his language to his wife. “I feel vulnerable for the first time in my life. I don’t know how to get over it or whether I can.”

  “What is giving this feeling to you? You’ve never seemed anything but invincible to me.”

  “What is giving me this feeling? My wife, because of my blindness, I almost lost the Minguat. As it was, many children died. We almost starved to death. If these People hadn’t taken us in, we would have died. I have been blind to so much.”

  “My dear, it cannot be so bad. We are fine. You brought us to these People and we didn’t have to fight them because you took off your shirt.”

  “But Pu, you don’t get it. One of the men here asked me what would happen if I lost my life in a hunting accident?”

  “You’re too good a hunter for that.”

  “I used to think that myself,” he said as he shook his head from side to side looking at the floor. “But in truth, I could have an accident as easily as another. Then the hunters would fight to see who would be the next Chief. We could have a disaster.”

  “My Dear, we aren’t hunting right now.”

  “Wife, we will have to make a decision after the cold time whether to leave or stay with these People. I think we should leave, but some of the way they choose to live makes them far stronger than we are. I want to learn about this. I don’t want to feel vulnerable like this again. I have seen what our way can do to us. I don’t like it. All they think about is the good of all. I have thought of the good of the Minguat, but I have thought alone. They think as a group. They have all of the minds working on the same issues. It is a better way. They share responsibility so that no one carries it alone.”

  “Don’t you think that if you decided to use their way, our hunters would fight you? Don’t you think they prefer our way? They are not used to having to think things through the way these People are. These People are nice when they disagree. Can you imagine our people disagreeing nicely? And then from the beginning of time we’ve said we’re superior to the People. You can’t change that by issuing an order. It’s part of us. We’re living for the future right now because we are still too thin and weak.”

  “That is why I feel vulnerable, I think. Some of our heritage is needlessly time consuming or destructive. Until I met these People I never understood that. It could bite us when we least expect. Like this volcano event.”

  “Well, you cannot let it eat your belly. You have a long time until the cold time ends. It’s not even here yet.”

  “True. I’m thinking that if there is a way to return a favor to these People for saving us, it is to go east when the season of new leaves comes. Down in our innermost selves, I know we do not mix well.”

  “My Dear, the evening meal is served. Let us go to eat and ease yourself. Give yourself time to think things through. You’ll see that our way is superior after all, I’m sure of it. I agree with you that we should separate, but for very different reasons.”

  After the evening meal and the clean up from it, Gruid-na stood and called to the group. After they gathered, he said in a loud voice, “Today, the two groups of the People have joined. Wamumur and Emaea now join as husband and wife. Totamu now is the mother of Domur. And, Emaea is now the mother of Ki’ti. That is all I have to say.”

  Ermol-na began to play the drum and there was dancing of the People and the Others.

  Totamu smiled and nodded to no one in particular. It was good. She approached Nanichak-na and reminded him that his tunic was about to come apart. “Give it to me and I will fix it tonight,” she told him.

  He smiled. He returned moments later wrapped in his covering for sleep. Totamu took the garment and managed to get it repaired before all had turned in for sleep. When she handed it back, he lowered his head, “Thank you,” he said. Nanichak-na loved the garment. He slowly ran his fingers over the holes he’d made in it lingering in the last one. His tunic was a summary of his life. Totamu did not understand the depth of his feeling about it or even what it meant to him, but she knew not to repair any of the holes he’d obviously made in it. In a place where privacy was more an idea than reality, the People did not probe the personal thoughts of another. People would share what they chose to share and safeguard what they didn’t. But when Totamu saw him moving his fingers on the holes and lingering on the last, she suddenly understood why the holes were there.

  Totamu tapped Domur on the shoulder and motioned for her to follow. She and Domur would share an evening of closeness, sitting shoulder to shoulder, sharing bits of Domur’s life with Enut that were important to Domur. Totamu had not forgotten how to mother.

  The evening was good. Wisdom sucked the color from the land, while the firelight danced lively on the cave walls and the group
was one in dance and happiness. The Minguat had been strangely affected by the day’s events. Most could not put their experience into words but there was a slight shift in their view of the People. It was time for all to start thinking about sleep. It had been a huge day.

  Ki’ti carried her sleeping mat and her cover to Emaea. “Where do you want me to sleep, Mother?” she asked, feeling awkward.

  Emaea savored the words without emotional display. “Here, against the wall will be good,” she told Ki’ti. “Come here, Little Girl,” she said.

  Ki’ti dutifully went to her. “Before you go to your sleeping mat at night, I want you to come to me. Give me a hug and kiss my cheek and I will kiss your cheek. If there is anything you want to talk about and haven’t, let it out then. Do not go to sleep in anger or frustration. Little Girl, do you have questions? Are you angry or frustrated?”

  Dutifully, Ki’ti hugged Emaea and kissed her cheek. She received Emaea’s kiss. She looked into blue eyes and asked, “How long will it take before my belly stops hurting?”

  Emaea was seated and she pulled Ki’ti to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around the little child. “Time controls part of it, Little Girl. You control the other part.”

  “I?” Ki’ti asked.

  “Yes.” Emaea stroked Ki’ti’s hair, “You see, the sooner you let go of what is past and begin to learn to accept that you are going to be a Wise One, the sooner your belly will stop knotting up and hurting. It could be a day or two or it could be a very long time with you sickening.”

  Ki’ti rested in Emaea’s lap while Emaea stroked her gently. Very, very quietly, Emaea hummed to her. The sound floated her off into sleep. Wamumur fixed her sleeping mat and he gently put her on it. He covered her along with the little dog which had snuggled up to her belly.

  “She will be fine,” Emaea said. “There has been so much for her to get used to so fast. Imagine being called to be a Wise One at age,” she flashed seven. “You and I had childhood, not an ashfall. I cannot conceive of how she feels.”

  “Well, I can,” Wamumur said, “and it isn’t easy for me to live with it. At the same time, I love her dearly and deeply. I also know how important she is to us. And I know I have a responsibility to help her overcome pride.”

  “And I appreciate that as much as you.” Emaea sat next to Wamumur holding his hand. “We have a responsibility, my husband.” She looked into his eyes. They both had eyes that were shining as brightly as they ever had. Tonight, a dream had been realized, not a Wisdom dream, but a human dream as old as time itself.

  The cave noise slowly lowered. Totamu thought just as she closed her eyes for sleep that she only had a few more men to finish up removing facial and scalp hair. Then she’d see how well that worked for a solution to the head lice problem. She smiled and was asleep. Grypchon-na and Likichi held hands as they lay on their backs side by side. It had been a rough day with Likichi’s loss of her sister and their having Emaea mother Ki’ti. At least there had been a way for Manak and Domur to have a joining in the future with Totamu mothering her instead of Likichi. Likichi thought about mothering. Among the People, the mothering links were fairly fluid, because all was done for the good of the group. Ki’ti was too young to have seen the shift in mothering, but it was not uncommon in the least. Poor Dear, she thought, the Winds of Change were tougher on some than others. How wonderful, however, to know that the next generation would have a storyteller, and who better to prepare that person than Wamumur and Emaea? Wisdom had smiled on them.

  Blanagah had set her sights on Ghanya. He was one of the Others, but if that’s the best she could do, that would have to do. He had picked up a little weight but still looked terribly thin. He appeared to be a good worker and everyone seemed to like him. He was one of Arkan-na and Ey’s children. She’d found he was age sixteen, and his black hair, now all gone, was like Minagle’s. In fact, now that she thought about it, Ghanya looked a little like Minagle. She would have to work her way into his consciousness as they both worked in Cave Sumbrel. If they joined and the Others split off from them, it would mean that he’d have to go with her People. That might be tough, but time would make that clear. She twisted and turned and finally drifted off into sleep.

  The fire crackled as it died down. The flickers of the fire were dancing exaggeratedly on the cave walls and ceiling. They had been fortunate to find the cave when they did, Chamul-na thought, as he shifted to a softer place for his hip. He was watching the flickering and thinking of mortality as he drifted off to sleep. Beside Ki’ti, Ahriku twitched as if he were running but he didn’t disturb Ki’ti’s sleep.

  The guard, Ermol-na, had gotten some stones to reshape while he guarded. He was hitting them with a deer antler tip and little pieces were littering the floor. In the morning, a woman would sweep. He needed to resharpen some of his tools, and it was a good way to stay awake.

  In the morning, Manak and Ermi met on the way back from the privy. They had enjoyed their journey to see where the ash ended and thought it would be good to go again but maybe for ten days out and ten days back. Before the morning meal, the men gathered and discussed it. They favored a five-day trip and wanted a trail left in the ash so they could follow the trail in the future if they found a way out of the ash. They also wanted day cache markers so that they could eventually place food along the trail. What the men saw as unwise was for Ermi to go. His wife had an infant. He should not go for so long. Cue-na said that he thought one of his Minguat should go. Fim volunteered and was accepted to accompany Manak. The two would eat, pack their minimum necessary items, and leave as soon as they could get ready.

  With the stirring in the cave, Wamumur, Emaea, and Ki’ti sat on their sleeping mats and stretched. The three went out to the privy and then returned to the cave. They straightened their sleeping mats and put them against the wall. Each went to get some food and they ate as a group quietly. Ki’ti knew that this day would start an examination of the significances of the stories. She would have to learn them well. She was determined that this would be a day when she would do her very best.

  Wamumur took a skin with the hair on it and placed it on the rock near the entrance. He sat on it. Ki’ti went over and kneeled to his side, sitting on her heels.

  “Begin with the first story,” Wamumur said, “and include the significances.”

  Ki’ti was off into the world of the stories. When there, she was prideless, her focus on getting the story and the significances right for the People. Self was irrelevant as she perfected her information. There was pleasure in the learning, so much so that it removed her from her surroundings. Only when Ahriku licked her did she surface, and then only to touch the dog, and then to submerge back into the concentration needed to do the integrative memory work she had to do to gain understanding.

  The hunters had eaten and gone to the other cave. The women were getting prepared to leave to work the skins. Wamumal, Shmyukuk, and Mitrak were to care for the seven youngest group members. Tita was making marked improvement and Ey was delighted. Even Ey was looking a little better. The routine of the cave had become established. It was good.

  Minagle, Domur, Aryna, Meeka, and Liho had been given a couple of bowls and sent with sticks to see whether any more blueberries were available. They were cautioned not to stray too far into the woods. It took awhile but they did find another group of blueberries and they picked those bushes in no time, taking the bowls back to be emptied repeatedly. These blueberries were better than the first group. They wondered why that was. Their laughter brought vibrancy to the desolate scene. Since the ashfall, there had not been a single bird song or noise from any living thing except the cave dwellers.

  Manak and Fim had five dogs and they were ready. Their own packs were bulging with water bags and extra sleeping skins and food. They were excited as young men can be to have a chance to prove themselves in their survival to an ash-free world. They headed out following the track that Manak and Ermi had made earlier. That would take them a long day. Fi
m was twenty-three and felt much older than Manak, but in this case, Manak had been on the first part of this trek and he hadn’t. There was little need for leadership in any case except to be sure that they did not deviate from north as the direction in which they headed. They wanted to be away from the volcano. Fim knew that in the Minguat ways of doing things, one would have been designated leader. Here, no one was. It felt strange. Maybe that was why he still felt no integration with the People.

  They quickly passed the place where they had found an elephant and continued on. “It all looks the same,” Fim remarked.

  “Yes. Later you’ll see that the land rises and falls. But that’s all I’ve seen. I haven’t even seen a river.” Manak readjusted his pack. It was heavier than any he’d ever carried.

  They walked onward, dragging the stick so that they had a trail to follow on their return. The land rose slightly. They could tell not visually but rather the way their legs felt. They would have wanted to run if they hadn’t been laden down with packages and had their feet encumbered with the boots. Neither liked the boots but would not have taken them off. They didn’t carry enough water for washing their legs and feet. The men did not stop until it became dark. They had promised to sleep, so they did, drinking water to get them up so that they did not sleep overlong. Neither lingered into sleep.

  In the cave, all were getting settled down. Blanagah had made advances to Ghanya, only to discover that he definitely wasn’t interested. That came as a shock to her. Little did she know that he found her differences unattractive. He had looked around and thought Minagle was appealing but she was not woman and he really wanted a woman of the Minguat or a similar group, not from the People. He felt superior to the People but hid it well. He had been cleared for joining by Abiedelai-na, but his cousin, Vanya had not. They were the same age. He often wondered how the Chief made his decisions. Vanya was his friend. Vanya was a little more daring than he, and they had great hunts together. At the present, he felt he could wait a while longer until they were out of the ash and were able to meet with the Minguat for exchange of women and men. That’s how it had always been. He was in no hurry. One thing was certain. When people joined, they ended up with babies and he didn’t feel ready for that responsibility in this time of ashfall. It was permitted for him and Blanagah to copulate even when they were not joined, but he didn’t want her to think he was interested, so he refused all her proposals. At one of the men’s meetings at a gathering of the Minguat the previous year, he’d heard one man say he had to join with his wife because they had been copulating before joining and she stuck to him like she’d been tied. The group wouldn’t have approved if he’d refused. So Ghanya did not look to females but instead stayed with the men to work and talk. He dozed off to sleep easily.