Twin Savage

by Sunniva Dee

  Luka and I exchange a glance.

  “He doesn’t need backup anymore?” I whisper.

  “Seems like it.”

  I lean back against Luka and let him link his arms around me. His chin drops to my head, and together, we watch Raka stand from her crisscrossed position on the ground, eyes lifting and fixing on the warrior as he stops in front of her. He speaks in sweet, low syllables, and that’s when it happens, when everything changes. Raka replies!

  “Oh my god,” I choke out. Luka squeezes me silently.

  The young warrior holds her face tenderly. He tips it up so he can look deep into her eyes. He speaks again, and her eyes flood with tears, but—

  “Is that a smile on her lips?” I ask.

  “Yeah. She’s happy to see him.”

  The young warrior lifts her. Stands there for a moment with his fairytale maiden who needed to be rescued. She’s Yarunami all over again, fulfilling her cycle when she kisses him back. They take their time like this, in each other’s arms, until he lowers her into the hammock and climbs in.

  I turn in Luka’s embrace and kiss my man too. Instinctive, he presses me close.

  “Let’s go back to the village,” I murmur.

  “You don’t want to make sure he sleeps over?”

  “I know he will. What we just witnessed was Raka’s surrender.”

  Luka lets out a slow exhale, heating my temple with it before he finds my lips again.

  Three days later, Muku comes running into our hut. He hops a little on his feet. Naked from the waist and down, he wears the t-shirt I bought him in the village. It was the only one in English and reads I still live with my parents. Luka thought it was hilarious. Everyone else found it to be true and therefore a valid choice.

  Words stumble out of Muku’s mouth at record speed, but without Levari we’re pretty lost. I understand “celebration,” and “jungle,” and when he opens his arms wide and adds something that includes the name Raka, I get up and run after him.

  Levari ducks out of her family’s hut at the same time. Her grin is so big she must have had a visit from our little messenger too. “We’re getting Raka back from the jungle today! She’s chosen her husband, and the men are repairing the middle-house for them next to Yarunami’s now. As soon as it’s ready, we go.”

  “The middle-house?” I thought I knew most concepts related to widows’ grief amongst the Lara’, but this expression is new.

  “Yes. It’s where the new couple lives and rides out the last part of her waves of sorrow, until she’s clean enough to move back into the village.” Levari presses her hands together happily. “Many make babies, and then it’s easy to see the wife is ready to move back to the living.”

  I smile at how simple that sounds.

  An hour later, the whole village is congregated outside Chief Pap’s hut. They talk loudly. They laugh. The children chase each other the way they often do. I notice Raka’s sister there with a baby on each hip. The fussiest of them has Raka’s eyes.

  “All right, it’s time!” Levari translates the chief’s orders. He speaks with a toothless grin, pointing at the young warrior we now know well. I’ve wanted to talk with Raka’s suitor for a while, but Levari advised against it. “Wait until we know for sure. Wait until she’s out of the jungle.”

  In only a week, Luka and I will be on a plane that takes us far away from Lara’ Nation. I can’t believe how fortunate I am to be here for this, so soon after Tujy’s death. Maybe it’s divine intervention. Maybe the great king jaguar felt like showering me with random luck as an adopted member of the Lara’.

  At the front of the group, the young warrior straightens, his black mane bejeweled with shiny red and yellow parrot feathers.

  “I didn’t know that anyone but the chief wore parrot feathers.” I frown. “Wait. Are they related?”

  Levari nods. “You didn’t know? Raka has chosen Makajanti, Chief Pap’s oldest son. Even as children, he followed her everywhere, and look. Look at his face now.”

  I squint, homing in on him. With red brushstrokes of celebration streaking his cheekbones, his features are smooth with anticipation.

  Makajanti leads the village into the woods. Branches and leaves rustle under our feet, but hushed concentration sinks over us as we approach Raka’s temporary home. I squeeze my notebook, aware that I won’t be writing in it. I’ll be soaking up every second of love-in-bloom as its petals unfold.

  In the small clearing surrounding her hammock, Raka sits with her legs crossed. Her food basket is empty, and she isn’t staring into an invisible abyss tonight.

  “Does she know?” I ask Levari, who shakes her head.

  “No. This is a judgment call made by the elders, after examining the widow from afar and discussing with the new husband.”

  I tap Luka’s shoulder. Point to a curve in the path that leads toward the side of the hammock. “Let’s get a better view. I want to study both of their reactions.”

  He takes my hand. Notices my half-assed hold on the notebook and shoves it into his shorts pocket without ceremony. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Eyes fixed on his bride, intention radiates off Makajanti. I’m lucky, so lucky, when Luka and I reach our position before Raka reacts. I’m blessed to see her look up, stand, and freeze at the sight of Makajanti. I watch him still for that one heartbeat that suspends in time and becomes all-encompassing.

  Silent, nimble, he moves toward her, a jaguar himself. She knows what’s about to happen, and I can’t tell how she feels. Is it too early, or is this the night? Her eyes flash in the semi-darkness of this eve chosen by their elders.

  Makajanti halts. From a foot away, he looks down at her with a smile that grows. My heart stutters, hoping it’s a good sign. He sinks to both knees and forms his hands around Raja’s hips. There’s so much hope in the way the muscles of his arms tense, in the way they quiet her anxious shifts.

  The audience doesn’t breathe. On their mothers’ hips, even the babies remain silent. Makajanti lowers his head until his forehead meets Raka’s thighs in supplication.

  Hesitant, Raka’s fingers twitch. What does she want, to push him away or accept him? I hold my breath. The warm wall of Luka against my back keeps me moored.

  She breaks the stillness, arms rising from their position along her thighs. I watch as small, feminine hands settle on Makajanti’s shoulders, as he cautiously raises his head to meet her gaze.

  She lets go, touch suspended until she cups red paint that screams celebration. Her lips move, jerk upward, and it’s what Makajanti needs. He springs to his feet, grabs her by the waist and swings her in the air. His shouts of victory echo through the forest.

  The villagers explode into action. They hug, dance, barge forward. They pat Raka’s and Makajanti’s backs. Chief Pap initiates a song that’s nothing like the laments of the funeral party. The children chant, and as Makajanti sets his future wife on her feet, he waves her sister forward. A fussy baby is handed off to his mother, and at that I have to turn away. I’m going blurry-eyed, and for once it’s not out of sadness.

  Luka laughs softly. “That’s what it took to break you? Raka getting her baby back?”

  “But look at them,” I snivel.

  “I know. They’re happy.”

  Goodbyes are never good, but this one was especially tough. I came here to study Lara’ Nation, immerse myself in their culture and describe their coping mechanisms for my little scientific nook of the world. I got so much more.

  This amazing people shared their love and their laughter. They let me in, in ways I could never have dreamed up. They shared their pain and their deepest grief, and in addition to it all, they taught me about myself.

  “You miss them already.” Luka’s smile is mischievous. I love when he curls one side of his mouth more than the other.

  I wipe my nose, chuckling while I fasten my se
atbelt. “I guess. That was ten full weeks, huh? Whoosh.” I shrug helplessly. “So much happened. These guys, I swear.”

  The plane engines revv up outside.

  Luka’s eyes narrow with tenderness as he pulls me close. “They’re fucking special is what it is.”

  I swallow hard. I’ll never see them again. If one of them gets pneumonia, Luka won’t be there. What will the future bring them? Us?

  When we land in L.A., will Luka and I slide apart? Will I see him in that old light, of someone with a past that’s indigestible? Will I? What will he do?

  What if I return to the darkness of memories and the comfort of men? No. I am past it.

  “Luka,” I say once we’re in the air. “Where will we be when we land?”

  “In Los Angeles?” he replies as if he’s not sure he understands. “We should go visit Mama as soon as we can. If you don’t mind? She’s eager to see us.”

  Us.

  “I’d like that.” My lips purse, forcing air out in a slow circle. “But where will you and I be?”

  He rocks me in the small cocoon of our seats. Kisses my forehead and lets his lips linger there. “I thought you were finally mine. Is that not so?”

  My face plumps with a smile, but I shut my eyes over this unlikely bliss.

  “I love you, Geneva. You love me. So why wouldn’t it be us?”

  “It should be us, right?”

  “I think it has to be us.”

  Luka called the guys, so I’m sure they’re tidying up last minute. He says I should stop worrying, that everything will work itself out naturally, but I’m not so sure. I’m jittery when our taxi pulls up to the Queen.

  Mid-November in the Valley can go both ways temperature-wise. This year, it’s hot and dry and yellow. Gorgeous, even with its off-the-charts contrast to the beauty we just left behind in Brazil.

  “What’s that smile for?” Luka’s thumb rubs over my knuckle. He secured my hand in his lap as soon as we got in the cab and hasn’t let go since.

  “Thinking back to Lara’ Nation.”

  “Oh.” His smile spreads, showing gleaming canines I used to think of as predatory. “You know, it could possibly be the smallest nation on the planet.”

  “You know, I think you might be right.” I wink and twist out of the taxi, pulling my backpack with me.

  The door to the Queen flies open, and Joy lunges out, down the porch steps and into my arms. “Oh god. You’re whole?”

  “I’m whole.” I grin. “Did you miss me?”

  “Like a lunatic and I don’t take that lightly.”

  Diego appears behind her. “Hey, dude.” He slaps Luka’s shoulder and proceeds to a weird gangster-shake I’ve never seen before. There’s much wiggling and nudging at first, but then they cave in to some sort of wrestle-hug.

  “Dude.” Luka’s timbre is dark and understatedly happy. “You up to?”

  “Hangin’, ya know.” Diego slaps his back hard, and I can’t help laughing. Of all people, I’d expect the Queen’s future psychologist to be a little more verbally expressive.

  “So, you’re happy to see each other?” I ask.

  “S’all right,” one replies while the other bobs his head lazily.

  The Queen is spotless. I stare at Luka, who doesn’t see what I see: complete and utter cleanliness, drapes hanging perfectly straight along every window and nothing out of place. We have a new tablecloth in the dining room. It’s deep red with golden dots and streaks all over it, making me think of surreal movies from the nineties. It’s ostentatious and gorgeous, and I glance at Joy, who shrugs.

  “No way they did that.”

  “Fine, so I helped a little. What’s it to you?” She puckers her mouth, and from the sheer joy of being here with all our friends, I lean forward and peck her. The guys erupt!

  “Sorry, baby,” I murmur to Luka.

  “So, what’s with the baby thing?” Lenny asks Luka during dinner. He says it loudly enough for me to hear.

  The food is delicious. Joy eats with us, and all the Fratters are here, except Connor.

  Luka’s gaze floats to me. It’s bright and tender, and I beam back at him. For one moment, his pupils darken with pain. His unintentional telepathy hits me straight in the heart, making it contract with some erratic jerk. Because god, we’re back where it began, where Julian lived, where Julian died. Above my head, my room is full of him. Our memories are there, the future we didn’t have, a future that’s now a dream of the past.

  Luka and I sit next to each other, the way we did before we left the Queen. So much has changed since then. He slides a strong hand into my lap. Dry and warm, it wraps us together.

  “I think I’m going to break the news,” Luka murmurs, waiting for me to disagree. I know what he’s referring to, and I don’t disagree even as my heart shrinks with the what-was.

  Only months ago, a girl was about to marry her fiancé. He died. His brother whisked her off. Now, she’s about to admit in front of their close friends that she’s in a serious relationship with his twin, and that is—

  a little bit fucked up!

  For a moment, I can’t breathe.

  “Okay.” I sound like huffed oxygen.

  Luka brings my hand up from my lap. He does it slowly and doesn’t stop until those pink lips I love meet the top of my knuckles. Joy gasps at his caress, while the Fratters shuffle in their seats.

  “So guys. Lenny asked me a question, and I’m gonna come clean to all of you.”

  “Have a feeling where he’s going with this,” Marlon whispers to the ceiling.

  “I’ve always liked Geneva a fucking lot, and…”

  “Yep, there you go.” Marlon earns a few chuckles.

  “This chick right here is fucking awesome, and I can’t believe that I’ve been lucky enough to spend ten weeks with her on my own. I’ve gotten to know her on a whole different level, and…”

  “Bet he has. Who-o-ole new level.” Marlon again. Lenny suppresses a snort.

  Luka shoots them a look. “Anyway. Geneva and I’ve had a chat.”

  “About what?” Lenny asks. Did he just bat his eyelashes?

  “About us. Right, baby?” Luka turns, and his nose is so close I could lean forward and caress it with my own.

  “Yeah.” My voice breaks, so I clear my throat.

  “It’s this girl and me now.”

  “As in you’re taking over for...?” James’ eyebrows sink a little.

  “No, he’ll never replace Julian,” I burst out.

  “Right! My brother is my brother. It’s— He was Geneva’s first. You gotta look at it like someone getting a divorce and finding a new guy.” Luka’s gaze widens. “No, that’s not what I meant. Fu-u-ck.” His features crumble, and I slide my arms around him and nudge my nose against his neck.

  “I love my brother.” Luka’s voice shatters midways through.

  “I know. I know. Remember Makajanti?” I mouth my question against his ear. “You’re Makajanti, and I’m getting there too. I’m following Raka’s lead.”

  Slowly, Luka swings his head until his lips graze the corner of my mouth. His touch ripples a chill up my spine. Then he straightens. Pulls in a deep breath and blinks back moisture.

  “All right. I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I love this woman, and I don’t care about much else right now. It’s been a hard fucking time since Julian died. I shouldn’t be doing this or feeling what I feel, but you know what? It’s not that easy.

  “I’ve said it to Geneva, and I’m admitting it to you: it’s not unheard of that brothers love the same woman. And— Fuck.” He hunches into his cupped hand, letting go of me to cover his fight. Around us, our friends wait in silence until he’s ready to talk again.

  “Julian had his time with Geneva. He... let. It. Go.”

  Joy inhales sharply,
and Diego strokes her shoulder.

  I climb onto Luka’s lap. I want to envelop him with my body, but my size can’t do that for him. I guide his head into the curve of my neck. His tears moisten me while he screeches the chair away from the table and twists us toward the window.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I can’t believe you did this. We could have waited.”

  He shakes his head, unable to reply.

  “You know what’s pretty funny?” There’s amusement in Nathaniel’s pitch.

  “What’s pretty funny?” James asks.

  “You see what he’s doing, right?”

  “What’s he doing, Nate?” I don’t have to look up to recognize Marlon’s chocolate depth.

  “That sonofabitch has deprived us of the babe for ten weeks, and now he’s claiming her for, like, forever.”

  Stunned silence. Then Lenny starts to laugh. James joins him with his signature snicker, and before I know it, everyone’s laughing. I find myself smiling too.

  “Oh my, someone’s having fun down here.” A voice I don’t recognize cuts through the amusement. The sound is musical and sexy and one hundred percent female. “What’s going on? Is Luka home already?”

  Belen sways her hips down the last steps of the stairs. She’s wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt that reaches her mid-thigh. It’s buttoned up to the middle of her breasts, and when she turns to wave at James, a nipple pokes against the fabric.

  Behind her is Connor. Shiny-eyed and with his hair in bed-disarray, he blinks twice and stalks forward. First a handshake with Luka, and then a dive-in to hug me. “Whoa, look at you. You’re all gorgeous and tanned, and that hair?”

  Yeah, I guess it got bleached. I can conjure poker-faced under distress. This is a good time for that. “Hey, Connor,” I say brightly.

  “Man, we’ve missed you. You been good?” he asks, looking me over, and I’m relieved that Belen isn’t all over him. Until she joins James on the couch and strokes her bare thigh down his pant leg.