Ki'ti's Story, 75,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  Nanichak-na felt compassion from her. He lowered his head. “I will not lie again!” he said, and did a strong and loud palm strike.

  She repeated his palm strike.

  Nanichak-na left feeling clean for the first time since he lied.

  The structure that would be home for the People was finally finished. At high sun they began the move of personal items from the cave to their new home with great excitement. The younger hunters’ benches/sleeping places were located just inside the entryway. So they could respond quickly to any emergency. The older hunters who were still active came next. The older people who did not actively hunt were located further back into the structure. The arrangement was similar to the cave arrangement. The hearths would be tended by the same People who tended them in the cave and their benches/sleeping places were convenient to the hearths. It turned out everyone was pleased with their spaces. The benches/sleeping places were a real surprise; the bedding would be much more comfortable off the ground. The children who were given elevated sleeping places were delighted. Ki’ti and Untuk’s sleeping place was located near the very back of the structure. Because it was so far from a hearth, bear skins were hung as curtains to keep what warmth they generated inside their enclosure. Ki’ti and Untuk were delighted with the privacy the skins afforded. Manak-na had built benches for them at the farthest inside center pole so they could survey the entire structure at a glance. That bench had soft skins laid on it for comfort.

  The People had provided safety exits through the grasses at certain spots along the structure wall. From inside, the grasses could be pushed out, moving on leather ties, unlike the other parts of the lower grass levels which were tied to be inflexible. The exits were marked with mud smeared all over the grasses and were between bench/sleeping places. They were not to be touched for exit unless needed for fire or attack. The dwelling was snug, and the People were happy that they would not have to move to distant lands.

  Ki’ti felt a horrible ripping pain in her abdomen. She kept from crying out, but asked Untuk to get Likichi quickly. Likichi ran to find Ki’ti doubled up in pain. She asked several questions, and from the signs said to Ki’ti, “It looks like you are pregnant and the baby is coming too soon.”

  “How could I be pregnant?” Ki’ti asked.

  “My Dear, when two adults, male and female . . .”

  “I didn’t mean that. I felt no signs of pregnancy,” Ki’ti said petulantly, through the pain.

  “Then you must be losing it early,” Likichi said. “I’m so sorry.”

  The thought if this were early, how on earth could a woman pass a baby at full term, wandered through Ki’ti’s mind web. Finally it was over, and Likichi showed her the tiny little thing that might have become one of the People. Ki’ti looked at the odd shape. She’d seen incompletely formed babies before. It was sad, but she felt disassociated from the shape she saw, as opposed to how she’s feel at the appearance of a full term baby that had life.

  “Can you tell what it was: boy or girl?”

  “Not positively,” Likichi said.

  Ki’ti composed herself. Some women’s wraps and absorbent material had been brought quietly by Minagle. Ki’ti went to the lower part of the cave to wash. She dressed. She felt empty and very tired. Untuk came for her and picked her up, carrying her to the upper level where he helped her stand. They walked hand in hand to their new home. Going directly to their room, he helped her lie down. He gently covered her with the bear skin.

  “Sleep a while,” he said. He lowered the bear skin curtain making the little room nearly dark. She closed her eyes and was asleep in minutes.

  People were settling in their new spaces. Hearths were already in use for the evening meal. There would be a feast for this first night. Ki’ti slept through it all. Wamumur held the men’s council for her. He blessed the new structure asking for Wisdom to heal Ki’ti quickly. Ki’ti entered into a prophetic Wisdom dream in which she was part of a time to come. She clearly saw herself with two children, leading her People along a trail that descended to an immense valley. They would cross the valley on the trail, but she saw no trail. She stood staff in hand, with her hair blowing in the wind, gazing at the land below. She felt as if she’d done this at another time, as if she were seeing what had been, not what was to come, yet in her dream she knew it was to come. She looked into the valley and could see a bright white light floating beckoning her on.

  “Come, come, this way, come,” it seemed to say.

  “Who are you?” Ki’ti demanded.

  “I come from Wisdom. I am a messenger sent to show you the way. Come.”

  Ki’ti hesitated. She was unsure this light was really from Wisdom. She’d never experienced anything like this.

  “Do not be afraid. Follow me! I am from Wisdom.”

  “How do I know where you are from?” she demanded again.

  “Because I am Wisdom’s messenger to the People. I am Kimseaka, the Guiding Light. I showed Maknu-na and Rimlad where to go. I spoke to Wamumur telling him to leave the old home land. I now guide you.”

  Ki’ti sighed resignedly. She beckoned to her resting People to follow her, and they did. She followed the light. She didn’t realize that her People did not see the light.

  When Wisdom returned color to the land, she awoke. She struggled to understand where she was. She was not trekking. There was no guiding light or valley or cave for that matter. She was confused but soon remembered the new long tree home and the loss of what might have been a child now gone.

  Ki’ti spoke to the People she saw on the way to the privy, but felt part of something else, not part of this happy group. Untuk noticed something different about her, and hurried to her side. He stayed while she made water, then walked her back to their seating place in their new home.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  “I am well, Untuk, but I feel disconnected somehow. I’m sure it will pass as the day goes on,” but she had unvoiced doubts.

  He pulled her toward him. Looking into her eyes he said, “I’m sorry we lost a baby.”

  Tears flooded her eyes. She could see genuine pain in his face, and realized he hurt not only for her but also he grieved for the loss of their child who would never be. It was enlightening for her to realize a man who never carried a baby internally could care as much for it as a woman who had. “I’m sorry too, my husband. I didn’t know I had a child in my belly. I never felt it move.”

  “Maybe that’s why we lost it. Maybe Wisdom never gave it life.”

  She looked at him, amazed. “My husband, you understand much about Wisdom.”

  “My Dear One, I could not love you, join you, and live with you, and not learn about Wisdom. I try to learn new things daily.”

  “Thank you, Wisdom,” Ki’ti softly said looking up, “for giving me this wonderful man.”

  Untuk hugged her tightly. He loved her with great passion.

  No one in the long tree home that day would know their Wise One had any problem. She appeared the same to all. Ki’ti had seen what was to come and, though it was not now, she knew it was inevitable they would eventually leave. She did not know why. She grieved for her unborn child, and for the eventual move. She, too, loved this place and would be sad to move. She wanted to speak to Wamumur and Emaea. She asked Untuk to find them.

  They arrived together. Wamumur said, “Good morning, Little Girl, I’m saddened to hear about your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, thoughtfully smiling in recognition that a once harsh name had become a term of endearment.

  Emaea put her arm around Ki’ti’s shoulders, saying nothing.

  “I’ve had a dream,” Ki’ti admitted wearily. “I can’t talk to any but you about this. It’s another time. I’m so confused and tired. In the dream I’m leading the People from here. I don’t know why we had to leave. We did not seem saddened or frightened during the trek. At the top of a great hill, I saw a great white light. The light insisted we follow. It proclaimed it was
the same light that led Maknu-na and Rimlad. It said it was the same light that led you, Wamumur, from the old land. The light said its name was Kimseaka.”

  “If you ever see that light, Little Girl, follow it. It is of Wisdom,” Wamumur said.

  “Wise One, in this . . .”

  “Stop!” Wamumur said firmly. “Little Girl, you do not call me Wise One any longer for any reason! There is only one Wise One—it is you. Don’t ever do that again,” he admonished.

  “Wamumur and Emaea, please listen, in this dream I had two children. The boy was about” she flashed ten fingers “and the girl” she flashed seven and then eight with a facial reflection of uncertainty as to which number would be accurate.

  Emaea smiled and brushed her hand over Ki’ti’s hair. “You are now Wise One. You will have dreams. Information to guide the People will be given to you in various ways. You know how to protect yourself. The dream you describe tells what will be and when,” Emaea said. “The dream will not come to pass until the time you have those children and they have reached that age. I think the dream is lovely, for it means you will have children, who will live. You will be blessed, Dear One.”

  Wamumur added, “Little Girl, you are Wise One. You have been given permission from Wisdom now to receive these dreams and use the information for the People. You may come to us at any time you choose, as long as we are in this world.”

  “Thank you both. I wonder if we can go back a moment, Emaea, with another concern. After the pain of yesterday, I cannot imagine passing a fully live baby through my body.”

  “Little Girl!” Emaea said, “what a thing to say! Don’t be afraid. At that time, the body makes changes that make it possible.”

  “That is good,” Ki’ti said, sounding unsure.

  “One thing is certain,” Wamumur said, “When the time comes to have a baby, you will have it.”

  The three of them along with Untuk laughed. Some of Ki’ti’s tension drained away. They hadn’t laughed at her dream. In fact, they had told how to use the dream for guidance in the future. And if she ever saw this light called Kimseaka, it was not to be feared.

  Wamumur cleared his throat and said, “Many years ago, I fear you may have seen something you should not have seen. We were trekking to the cave called Kwa. I had my back to the trekking line and I was angry.”

  “I saw,” Ki’ti responded. “I turned away for fear of seeing something I shouldn’t have seen.”

  “I let you think I’d never blasphemed Wisdom,” he admitted. “I did blaspheme that day. I was angry that we were forced to move. People were struggling almost beyond endurance. Wisdom had the power to stop the volcano.”

  Emaea was shocked but covered well. Ki’ti remained silent, feeling privileged to hear his admission.

  “That was terrible sin toward Wisdom,” Wamumur continued. “I know in the deepest part of my belly that Wisdom ALWAYS blesses us even though sometimes the blessings may look to us like curses. We must always take the time to learn why the difficult times are blessings. What I see is that we have found a wonderful place to live in peace. We have thrived here and yet we are going to have to move again. I think for us we will always be on the move. Still, I don’t know why it must be so. The move here was more than ashfall.”

  Ki’ti eyed him carefully. Finally, she knew what she’d seen all those years ago.

  Wamumur continued, “Why I want you to know this truth is so you will continue to search for the reason we had to leave the place to the south. There has to be more to it than simply avoiding a volcano. Wisdom works all things for purposes. So, my Wise One, I leave you with the charge of continuing to search for why Wisdom caused us to move. It’s another story.”

  Ki’ti was dumbstruck! After spending time thinking, she responded, “I will accept this responsibility, and when it becomes clear—whether in my life or the next Wise One’s life or after that—it deserves a story. A story so others will not be tempted to sin against Wisdom through misunderstandings.”

  “Thank you, Little Girl. You have made me proud to be your father and proud to have been part of training you to be the Wise One. You have excelled in what you do. I fully approve you.”

  Emaea interjected, “I agree fully. You are approved by all, Little Girl.”

  The long tree home of the People resonated with joy. It was warm enough in seasons of cold days and cool in seasons of warm nights. The smoke hole covers at the top permitted the smoke to exit while blocking white rain and snow. The People remained healthy. Their relationship with the Mol was infrequent but good. The Mol had claimed the remains of the man with the green bag and his family. The Mol were certain it was the son of Torkiz and his family. They were surprised at his clothing, for it was not Mol.

  Earthquakes continued, and sometimes large pieces of the caves would drop to the cave floor. That was especially true in the part of the cave where they had lived, so the move prevented some probable deaths. Although it was unusual for the People, their population increased. The long tree home did require enlarging. The front entrance was moved and the home extended. It seemed a real blessing to have to add on.

  Within ten years, Wamumur and Emaea were still living. In fact, none of the older People had died since Gruid-na and Veymun. Panriku had died and his place had been taken by Achiriku (Pretty Wolf ) a female pup who at this time was old herself. Their population of the People had expanded to about 100. Ki’ti had become pregnant and gave birth to a boy. They named him Yomuk, which meant a stone that was very hard to break. He had the physical characteristics of the Mol and a loving spirit. When Ki’ti became pregnant with the second child, she knew it would be a girl. Wamumur and Emaea were beside themselves with joy, but both remembered as did Ki’ti, that this was prophetic. They were amazed when Ki’ti had another boy at a seemingly early time. The baby was fully formed but tiny. He survived only a few days. Ki’ti found herself pregnant again immediately after the loss of their little son. This one, she knew, would live. It would be female. The timing of age was right. When the girl was born, they called the baby Elemaea.

  Ki’ti thought of the passing of time in terms of the ages of her children. When Yomuk was five years old, Chamul-na went to Wisdom quietly in his sleep. A sadness passed over the People, and his grave was heavily laden with flowers. When Yomuk was in his sixth year, Pechki and Neamu-na had gone fishing at the lake when a storm arose. The raft was found, but the bodies were never located. Ki’ti made a memorial grave where they would have been buried. It contained some of their personal things, and a large part of Ki’ti’s heart. Her grandparents were so special, and not having a proper burial for them grieved her. She was confident that Wisdom found them even underwater, but it was outside the realm of normal.

  When Yomuk was eight years old, Ki’ti remembered hearing a scream. She wondered where it originated, until she realized she was the source. She had been walking with Emaea, who was eighty-three and Wamumur who was two years older. They were at the north end of the caves on the rock walk. It was a walk the three shared since they moved to these caves. They walked there just to talk and reminisce about the growth of the People. As they stood at the end of the walk, an earthquake hit. Emaea fell over the edge and in his attempt to catch her, Wamumur joined her. The position of their bodies made it clear to Ki’ti that both had gone to walk with Wisdom. Untuk came running when he heard her scream. So did most of the hunters. No one could have imagined such a death for the former Wise Ones.

  Quickly, hunters ran to the rocky ground where the bodies lay. Neither retained any life. It was the saddest day the People had known. Untuk carried Ki’ti to their little curtained bed in the long tree home. She had ceased screaming and simply sobbed quietly. Untuk held her, cupping the back of her head in his left hand. He felt the little rise in the back of her head that was a characteristic of the real People. Wamumur and Emaea both had it. Minagle did not. He knew Minagle was Likichi’s daughter, but she didn’t look like it. She wasn’t adopted. Untuk smiled, and distr
actedly remembered his first thoughts that the bump was the place where their phenomenal memories were stored.

  Likichi brought a gourd containing tea. Ki’ti drank the tea, thinking as she sipped it that it had a vile taste. Moments after she returned the cup, she was asleep.

  The next day, she had to rise and preside over the burial of her adoptive parents. No one would be standing nearby to be sure she told the story correctly. No one else would be able to share with her spiritual things that taught her of Wisdom. She alone had full responsibility for the spiritual well being of the People. She was truly overwhelmed.

  Somehow, she got through the grave side service. She noticed that the shared grave was half filled with flowers of every color imaginable. It was so filled with flowers the bodies were totally covered. For that Ki’ti was grateful. She could not see that the bodies were covered with red ocher, a gift of the Mol, a gift with preservative qualities. She did notice Wamumur’s neck bag with the yellow owl hanging around Untuk’s neck. He whispered he’d been given it in trust for the next Wise One.

  Pain ripped her belly. She returned to her sleeping place and slept for three risings of the sun, when Untuk shook her arm and woke her. Achiriku lay on the sand floor just outside Ki’ti’s sleeping place, keeping watch.

  “You have slept long enough,” he said. “You have important responsibilities.

  Ki’ti knew he spoke the truth. She steeled herself and rose to resume the role Wisdom had given her. The People were relieved to see her return. Somehow they knew that life would continue on.

  Within a month, Achiriku died in her sleep and she was buried as the others had been with the People there to wish her well. And many flowers were brought to cover her body before burial.

  As Ki’ti and Untuk’s children grew, the People continued to grow in number, albeit they mixed with the Minguat and Mol. When Yomuk was nine, it was clear that something had to change. Winds were blowing, Winds of Change. It was the irresistible force making things shift whether from place to place, or ways of doing things, whatever Wisdom chose. The number of game animals required to feed the growing number of people was diminishing. That fact had been apparent for several years. The People would soon have to move to a place where they could find enough game to feed themselves. The time had come to plan the move. It would take a year of preparation for the move to begin. Ki’ti had not forgotten her dream. She knew what to do. The men’s council had known of the dream for years. They were ready when the time came.