Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “Oh, no…”

  “The furroids started leaving their caves and coming down the mountain. I couldn’t turn back. They were behind us, doddering on their short legs.”

  “You should’ve hurried!”

  “I did hurry. They, in fact, weren’t in a hurry. They knew the canyon was a dead-end trap.”

  Tanti continued telling them how he rode his horse between the steep mountains, how the road became narrower, and he had no choice but to ride forward. “The furroids moved quietly,” he said. “They weren’t in a hurry. They were certain that my horse and I would be trapped in the narrow junction of the mountains. In fact, they were very quiet. Even when they bit Gayalo’s legs.”

  “Why were they quiet?”

  “Probably because of the echo. The canyon wasn’t only a trap for passersby, but also a sound trap. Every sound you made was heard over and over again, and each time louder than before.”

  “Oh, no… Abaya…”

  “Oh, my…”

  “And then, when one of the furroids caught my leg, I shouted.”

  “Of course! No need to be ashamed. Anyone would’ve shouted in your place. I would’ve screamed, not only shouted.”

  “Shut up and let him tell the story.”

  “What happened?”

  “The noise caused an avalanche of stones, and the roar of that avalanche caused another avalanche. The stones rolled down and hit the furroids.”

  “Well done!” The village people started clapping. “Serves them right!”

  “You should’ve yelled louder.”

  “I did,” Tanti said. “But the noise was awful. The entire valley shook, until one huge boulder started rolling down the mountain. The furroids, those still alive, wouldn’t stop chasing me. Some of them did try to escape. By then, the path was narrow, like a tunnel, and whoever was on the path was trapped and crushed beneath the rolling boulder.”

  “Wow!” The crowd cried out anxiously.

  “My horse galloped like crazy. By now, I feared both the avalanche and the noise. Behind me, there was a pile of injured and dead furroids. Some of them were chasing us persistently. The huge boulder was horrifyingly close, and before me, I saw a very narrow entrance. We could’ve been trapped there forever.”

  There was a moment of silence. It seemed as though everyone was holding their breath.

  “At the last moment, we managed to shove ourselves through the entrance. We were seriously scratched, but we passed. The rolling boulder stopped with a boom and blocked the passage. The furroids remained trapped in the canyon.”

  “Hurray!” The village people cheered. A sigh of relief rose from the crowd. They told each other what they had heard (or what they thought they had heard), getting excited all over again. They continued asking him questions, requesting that he repeat and describe a certain scene. Milo was ecstatic. None of the stories he made up in order to exalt his friend, Tanti were as good as the story about the furroids.

  A huge golden moon rose in the sky. Someone made a small bonfire and placed on it a pot of fragrant tea, which was served in wood cups.

  Tanti sat there and raised his face to the sky. Dionnie sprawled next to him, weary, humming to herself and stroking the head of a little girl who’d fallen asleep on her lap. The flower in her hair closed its petals on the butterfly napping in it.

  Tanti imagined the white grove, its flowers falling like snowflakes, revealing a vague figure that smiled at him and disappeared in the white. Blue spy, Blue spy. The cries echoed in his ears. Catch him! Then he saw the White queen sitting at a trial, scowling and stern. She hadn’t said a word when he was sentenced to prison.

  Yet she didn’t hand him over to the guard when they were at the spring. Had she realized he wasn’t dangerous? How beautiful she was when she calmly sang to herself, stroking Gayalo. As if in a dream, the song began.

  Clouds pass silently

  White flowers stroke my face tenderly.

  Oh silvery moon, how is the Queen

  with lovely eyes, and fair?

  The people surrounding him fell silent and listened. In the distance, jackals howled. Tanti continued.

  Bless and give thanks for this beautiful night.

  How lovely the blue,

  How lovely the white,

  The graceful night a pleasant caress,

  As the heart is heavy with secret’s distress.

  Without adding another word, he turned and entered the house.

  Chapter 21

  Snails, a Forest Man, and Leaving Bird Village

  Tanti tried to lift his head. He heard something rustling around him, accompanied by a dull thudding, which rose and fell, rose and fell. Dum dum do do, dum dum do do. Something was on his chest, his stomach, his arms. To his horror, he saw snails crawling all over his body, moist and sticky, heavy and growing bigger from second to second. They started crawling toward his neck. He started breathing heavily. Halohalamana. He heard voices surrounding him. Where am I? He heard his thoughts asking repeatedly. A semitransparent rock towered some distance from his face. In it, he noticed a blurry image, twisting and thrashing, trying to escape the rocky trap. Blue spy, spy, the dull voices said, mingling with each other. He tried to scare them away, to push them from him, but they seemed to multiply. He tried to get up, go to the rock, and rescue the image begging for his help, but he couldn’t budge. The snails pressed on his chest, making it hard to breath. Hang him, hang the spy. They crawled closer to his face.

  He woke up shouting, sat up in alarm, and his hand bumped into a bundle on the small night table. Something fell and rolled on the floor.

  Dionnie came out of her room and went to him, wearing a billowy nightgown with decorations of butterflies and blueberries. She held a lamp. The soft light expelled the last of the snails.

  Tanti could still feel that rhythm, rising and falling. Dum dum do do.

  “What happened?” she asked. “I heard you shouting.”

  “I guess I had a bad dream.” He sat up, embarrassed. His shout still echoed in the room.

  Dionnie placed the lamp on the table and tried to calm him.

  “I can imagine you’ve been through some difficult days.” Her foot bumped into the rolled letter that had fallen on the floor. Before Tanti could stop her, Dionnie picked up the letter and studied it.

  “Snails!” she said. “This letter is all snails. Are you, Tanti, a White after all?”

  “No! I’m not a White!” Tanti couldn’t control his anger. “I’m not Blue, and I’m not White.”

  “To tell you the truth,” Dionnie said. “Right now, you look very Red.”

  She sat on the bed and reached for his hand. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll make you some sage tea with cinnamon. After that, you’ll sleep better.”

  Tanti calmed down and apologized for his outburst. “You don’t have to make me anything, dear Dionnie. I think I can sleep now.”

  Dionnie was already busy making tea. She returned after several minutes and handed him a cup of tea. The tea was hot, fragrant, and wonderfully tasty.

  She studied the letter again. Tanti reached out and retrieved the letter. “Please,” he said. “I must bring this letter to its destination.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear Tanti.” Dionnie laughed. “I don’t understand the writing. I just like looking at it. It’s so swirly and pretty. In fact, there are only two people in Nautilin who know how to read and write this snail writing. But maybe in Izmiralda…”

  “Izmeran,” Tanti said.

  “What’s Izmeran?”

  “It’s my country. That’s where I live. We use letters when we write. Not snails.”

  “I understand. Like the Reds. Here we ‘arrow.’” She took a drink of her tea and studied the letter again. Suddenly, she stared at Tanti, as though seeing him for the first time. />
  “You need a horse to reach the king’s city, right? This letter is for the king.”

  “How did you know?”

  Dionnie laughed again. “Like I told you, Tanti, two people in all of the Blue country know how to read this writing, and they are the king and his advisor, Balanter. Maybe also the queen’s advisor, whose father was a great scholar. I assume your quest is very important.”

  Tanti lowered his head and remained silent.

  “Drink your tea, Tanti,” Dionnie said softly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to help.”

  “I know. Thank you, Dionnie, for everything.”

  “Don’t thank me. You brought me news that brought joy back into our lives. Dionun and I, we’re twins, you know. We don’t look alike, yet our souls are entwined. I can feel him when he’s far away. Knowing that he’s free has liberated my soul after many days of pain and worry.” A tear glistened in her eye, but she smiled her beaming smile. “I know that what you say is true. I can feel and I know that he’s active and full of life, just like he loves to be.”

  Tanti nodded.

  “Maybe I can bring the letter to someone who can bring the letter to the king more easily? Someone we can trust.”

  “What did Dionun tell you when he gave you the letter?”

  “That I give it to the king.”

  “Well then, you have to deliver it yourself. It’s your mission, and no one can do it for you. And the less people you involve in these matters, the better, if you ask me.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t make it on time. That I’ll get lost on the way. I’m not sure the king will agree to see me. He might think I’m a White spy.”

  “Not our king.” Dionnie laughed. “He doesn’t play war and spy games. Maybe it’d be better if he’d pay attention to what’s happening at the borders instead of chasing the Lizards. The fact that you’ve been in Anura and seen what you’ve seen may convince him that the situation is grave.”

  Dionnie got up. “You have to sleep and gather strength, Tanti. And don’t worry needlessly. I’ll see what we can do regarding the delivery of the letter.”

  When Tanti opened his eyes, the sun was high in the sky. At his feet, on the covers, sat two rust-and-orange-colored chickens, bobbing their heads here and there and clucking, as though they were seriously stating their opinion about him.

  Tanti pulled his legs back and got up, scaring them both away.

  Two spotted eggs rested in the dimple from which the chickens rose. The chickens continued clucking and gossiping while they toddled toward the open door, from which he heard talking and loud laughter.

  He dressed hurriedly. On one of the chairs was a bowl of water, a towel, and soap. He washed his hands, face, and neck, combed his hair with his fingers, and went to the yard.

  Under a large, leafy tree stood a table and benches. Dionnie, with her mane of blue-black hair, decorated with the flower and the butterfly resting in it, looked fresh and full of life. Next to her stood an extraordinarily tall man with a long, thick beard. They stood side by side and talked.

  Milo, who stood next to them, his school bag on his shoulder, noticed Tanti first.

  “Tanti!” he said happily and ran to him, leaping into his arms and hugging his neck tightly. “We waited for you to wake up. Martam Og came to visit. But I have to go to school.”

  “You should’ve left an hour ago,” Dionnie said and smacked him lightly on his behind. “Come on, run off, or you’ll have to answer thirty questions in history. Good morning, Tanti.”

  “I don’t care,” Milo said before Tanti could answer. “Girit prepares my homework, and I fix her dolls and wagons and stuff. I can stay a bit more.”

  “You’re going now!” Dionnie handed him a bag containing a light meal.

  Milo said a reluctant goodbye and left.

  “Good morning, Tanti!” Dionnie said. “We were waiting for you to wake up. Breakfast is getting cold.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I was really tired.”

  The guest was so tall that the top of Tanti’s head barely reached his chest. Tanti inclined his head at him. He was afraid to shake his hand and reawaken the pain that had eased since the previous day.

  “This is Martam Og, from the TransRiver people, as you can see,” Dionnie said.

  “No longer TransRiver, sir.” The man’s voice rumbled, and his eyes flashed like two flames. “But a poor farmer on the edge of the mountains. Oh dear, oh dear. There wasn’t a man in all of the TransRiver who knew how to swing an ax like Martam Og. Who knew how to shoot an arrow straight into the heart of a wild animal as it ran? And who won all the wine drinking contests, who?” He turned to Dionnie. “Tell him.”

  “Sit and eat, Martam Og. Calm down and don’t start complaining. Anyway, those drinking competitions don’t lead to a good place.”

  “Of course. You should know. Forgive me.” Martam Og sat at the table. “I’m not sorry that those rowdy wine celebrations are over. If I had a wife like you, Dionnie, I wouldn’t lose her because of the bottle. But when I find myself wandering the valley with produce of the field, and everyone I meet offers me his best wine… Well… Yes. I stopped hunting and carousing some time ago.”

  “And all this happened because of one unnecessary swing of the ax.” Dionnie giggled.

  “Hush, Dionnie,” the man said. “Don’t remind me of that unfortunate event. Dear, oh dear, oh dear. That’s how I lost my friend and neighbor.”

  “With the stroke of an ax?” Tanti asked in alarm.

  “One, unintentional stroke of an ax.” Martam Og continued lamenting.

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Worse.” Martam Og sobbed. “I chopped off his beard. With one stroke. How can a poor man get over the shame? He didn’t leave his house for three months. His twelve brothers are still searching for me, in order to avenge him. I wandered the entire country until I arrived at the edge of the neighboring mountains. Who knows if they’ll find me?”

  “And no one can interfere? Don’t you have friends to protect you?”

  “Protect me?” Martam Og laughed. “I can crush half of them with my fists, with one blow. It’s my own strength that I fear. But revenge is revenge. It’s their familial duty.”

  “Maybe that stroke of an ax wasn’t so pointless,” Dionnie said affably. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come to live in the neighborhood, and we wouldn’t have met you.”

  Martam Og fixed his flashing eyes on Dionnie. She blushed and started fussing with the dishes on the table. The butterfly in her hair fluttered its wings, revealing its delicate colors.

  “Sit. Sit and eat,” she said and started rushing here and there, placing food on the table. Martam Og eagerly ate everything set before him.

  “Tanti,” Dionnie said. “Martam Og will take you to the City of Water. I told him what he has to know. He’s very familiar with the way, and he’ll make sure you arrive quickly and safely.”

  Martam Og nodded. “We must leave immediately,” he said. “Are you ready, Tanti?”

  “Of course!” Tanti leaped up. He rushed inside to get his bag. Dionnie gave Martam Og two bursting rucksacks.

  “When did you find the time to arrange supplies?” Tanti asked in wonder.

  “When your snails woke me up,” Dionnie said and winked at him. “And now, be on your way. When you complete your quest, return to us, and we’ll have another party, maybe bigger this time.”

  He thanked Dionnie again before following Martam Og to the gate. On the path stood a half-full wagon, harnessed to two horses. Tanti stopped, his mouth falling open.

  “Dionnie…” He turned back. Dionnie snuck into the house.

  “Dionnie!” He called again.

  She returned and approached the gate. “I know you expected something else.”

  “Dearest Dionnie, I just need a
fast horse, not a delivery wagon.”

  “We have no fast horses in our village. Except Ganoli’s blind mare, who certainly was fast in her youth.”

  “Come on, Tanti.” Martam Og’s voice rumbled from his place high up in his seat. “They’re waiting for me at Cicada Farm, and after that, I have to go to those complainers at the olive press.”

  “Don’t make him wait,” Dionnie said and lowered her voice. “I promise you that this is the quickest and most discreet way we could find for you, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m in a hurry, Dionnie.”

  “Well then, you’d better leave immediately.”

  Suddenly, Tanti felt himself fly lightly in the air, and before he realized what was happening, he landed on the wagon seat. Martam Og, who didn’t look as though he’d exerted himself in any way, climbed up again on the wagon, grasped the reins, and clicked his tongue. The mares started walking.

  “I’m sorry I rushed you. It’s hard to say goodbye to Dionnie. Her beauty blinds every man in all of the region.”

  “What blinds who?”

  “I think you’re still young. And your height, I’d say, isn’t adequate. But with women, who can account for taste?”

  “Who can account for what?” Tanti settled more comfortably on the pillow-padded wood bench. He was starting to understand what Martam Og was saying. Before he could respond, Milo appeared on the path, waving and blocking their way. Martam Og stopped the horses. “Take me to school,” Milo said, and Martam Og reached out and pulled him into the wagon, just as he’d pulled Tanti several minutes ago. Milo sat between them, joy emanating from him.

  “Can I hold the reins?” he asked, and Martam Og gave him the reins.

  “Just don’t rush them now. We’re starting to climb up a steep incline.” The mares continued, familiar with the road.

  “He came back. I saw him yesterday,” Milo said.

  “Who did you see?” Martam Og asked.

  “My father. He stood on the other side of the gate.”

  “And no one invited him in?”

  “They didn’t see him. My mother didn’t see him, either. He had a bottle in his hand, and the bottle was almost empty.”