Zamimolo’s Story, 50,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  Shortly after all the gifts were boarded, the boatmen got back on board their boats and the Nola Nola pushed them back into the deeper water. The time with the boys had ended and it would be a long time before they saw them again.

  Too put his arm around Sima and they began to climb the hill to home. Mechalu touched Olomaru-mia’s shoulder and pointed to the pair. Olomaru-mia smiled at him. “They will do well together,” she said with a great deal of relief. She pulled a section of her hair forward to examine. She was shocked at the large number of white hairs. She wondered briefly when that had happened. Small groups began to leave the seashore and return to their homes above. From their village, they could see the boats with red sails moving north.

  Zamimolo and Ba had walked to the burying grounds. Darkness would soon cover the land. His tanned face, so different from the pale face she first met attracted Ba the way it had when she first saw him. His hair was black mixed with white; his eyebrows black; his upper lip hair was black; his beard mostly white; and the hair on his chest was a mixture of black and white hair. His hair color spoke of a long life they had shared. His body, built on a stocky frame, was not fat but instead muscled well from his hunting. She smiled at him.

  “It has been fifteen years since I came to this land, Ba.”

  “Yes, it has. You keep count also?”

  “I do.” He smiled. “I know this land now, but sometimes I still feel like an intruder.”

  “You are part of this land now, Zami. How can you feel like an intruder?”

  “I still remember the old country where I was born—the quiet forests, the smooth mountains. It was cold but a gentler place. We had our hazards, but I feel that here they are so much more numerous.”

  “Is that thinking back to Olomaru-mia?”

  “Ba, in truth I haven’t thought of her in a long time, but her abduction would be part of it. I think it’s the different animals and the number of snakes, spiders, and other hazards and how well hidden they are. This is just to me a more dangerous place. It’s necessary always to be fully alert.”

  “Zami, drums!” Ba held his strong forearm and looked into his eyes.

  He touched her lips straining his ears to hear the message. It was unmistakable. The Northern Kapotonok were calling for assistance. There were Alitukit warriors heading to their border. “I must go,” he said and they turned for home.

  The People planned a rotating group of support warriors who would know to go if a request for help came. For almost fifteen years, they had kept the list, but they had not used it. Nevertheless, it was significant enough to them that they did not discard it from the disuse. They had not until this day had to use it, but each person knew whether it was his time to go if the call came. It was time for Zamimolo. He didn’t hesitate but went straight to his weapons and hurried to gather what he’d need in his backpack. He met Jup, Grakumashi, Obi, and Numing. Men who were not selected for this war made torches for the men to use since dark was on them. It was time for the evening meal, but the men did not stop to eat. They carried a lot of jerky in their backpacks, and they would eat that when they hungered. Although there was no need for quiet at their cave, the men left in silence as the People watched until they could no longer see. Zamimolo did not leave Ba without a hug. He was walking into the unknown. They’d been trained to be warriors, but he’d never faced war. Eliminating all other thoughts, he returned in his mind web to the warrior lessons they’d been taught. He reviewed them repeatedly, not wanting to miss any detail. He was also as watchful as possible for hazards on the path. The memory of Pikotek and his snakebite was still clear in memory.

  Ba watched him go. She was not filled with foreboding as she thought she might be, if this event ever occurred. Somehow, she had great confidence in his ability to live well in this land. She did wonder why he didn’t feel part of this land, but she attributed that to his feelings of helplessness when he realized he could not save Olomaru-mia. Then she remembered he’d mentioned that he’d not thought of her in a long time. Ba loved Zami completely. She did, however, live with the ghost of Olomaru-mia. There was something magical about the girl she’d never met. She seemed bigger than life. More beautiful than anyone. Kinder and gentler than normal. Ba had never felt she could compete with the ghost, so she’d quit trying and settled for what she thought of as second best—simply being herself. Had she known the mind of Zamimolo, she’d have realized that he loved her with a fierce love that stood on the foundation of knowing how easy it was to lose someone. Ba was his rock and he clung to that rock as a limpet to a rock. In his mind web there was no first or second best. They were one. She returned to the cave to settle the children for the evening meal.

  The men walked through the dark to reach their destination as soon as possible. There was barely enough light to see and the skittering of animals on the path and snapping branches off to their sides were occasionally unnerving, but the men continued. By morning they arrived at the Southern Kapotonok border. They followed the coastline north. When they reached the village where Zamimolo and Linpint had first made contact with people other than themselves in the new land, they stopped. Some men from that village had already left to help. The Kapotonok insisted they rest briefly and eat. While the men rested, the women of the Kapotonok fixed food. Before Linpint and Zamimolo were allowed to leave, the Wise One, hobbled to them. He gave five leaves to each man. “When you tire, chew one or half of one of these leaves. Don’t swallow them. It will give you energy to continue on.” Each man put the leaves in a place in his backpack where they would remain safely.

  The Wise One hobbled over to Zamimolo pointing a bony finger at him. “The time comes closer but is not quite here. You must control your desires, for they will try to overcome you. Heed my words!”

  “What do you mean?” Zamimolo asked, confused and eager to travel onward to battle.

  “Your hair grows white. You will find what you sought, but it is not what you expect. Do no evil, or you will be overwhelmed with regret.”

  “Are you talking about war?”

  “I am talking about the golden girl.”

  “You mean the girl I sought?”

  “Yes. That one.”

  “Thank you, Wise One. I’ll remember.” Zamimolo and the others took the path that went inland towards the Northern Kapotonok lands. Not far into the walk, Grakumashi tried chewing a half leaf. He told the others of the extra energy he felt. Each man chewed half a leaf.

  As they walked, Zamimolo remembered the words of the Wise One, “golden girl.” Where had he heard those words? He searched his mind web as he walked through the forest. He felt occasionally as if he were close to the memory and something would happen to distract him, such as falling water where they could drink and refill their gourds, proximity to a spiked-tailed armadillo or sloth, or the forest becoming deathly quiet too suddenly.

  As they arrived at a tree free hilltop, Zamimolo remembered: the drums from the south. They spoke of the golden girl. The golden girl was Olomaru-mia. It had to be! Why didn’t he realize it when he heard the message? But they didn’t say where she was. Zamimolo put the information in his mind web and purposed to address it when the war was over. He could ask the question on the drums. Drummers might be able to tell where she was. It was a novel thought and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it long ago. Then, he realized that she was supposed to have joined before he knew about the drums. He had a sinking feeling. He asked himself why he still chose to pursue her whereabouts. He had to admit that once he loved her. Love wasn’t something he could just end. He still loved her. Not as he did years ago. In his mind web she was still sixteen, while he was old. He didn’t know her any longer, but he still loved her. Differently. Was there a way, he wondered, to stop loving? He really wanted to know that she’d had a good life and was safe. He didn’t stop to think what he would do if she wasn’t happy or being treated well.

  Back at the People’s village, the children had been playing near the path that entered the
woods. Olf, Linpint’s grandson, small for his age of three, had climbed upon a strange rock. He sat upon it and enjoyed seeing from such a great height. Suddenly the rock moved. He shrieked.

  Chiru and Khlaput saw the little boy and realized the danger. He was sitting on the back of one of the huge armadillos near the path that went into the woods.

  “I’ll go for help. You watch,” Chiru screamed at Khlaput, though the volume was not necessary. He took off at a run as fast as he could go.

  Linpint heard Chiru and ran to meet him. Rustumarin and Ramaduku came up from the river. They followed Chiru to the place where Olf sat on the back of what they discovered was a smooth-tailed armadillo. Smooth-tailed or not, the tail of an armadillo, even if it wasn’t spiked, could deliver quite a hit.

  On the other side of the armadillo, unseen by any of the others was Amitu, a girl of ten years, granddaughter of Tokatumeta. Amitu was terrified of the armadillo, which she had thought to be a rock while it slept, but she was even more frightened of what could happen to Olf. When the men arrived at the far side of the beast, she ran toward the beast and grasped his great shell at the neck and pulled herself up, using the animal’s neck as a foothold. Shaking, she climbed the shell to the frightened little one. At the top of the shell, she sat with Olf in her lap as if she might be calmly doing what she’d done many times. She looked at the men waiting for them to tell her what do to next. Olf had calmed.

  The armadillo was aware that it was near people. It knew that it had a small weight on its back. Those things registered. It did not get defensive. Instead, the animal was trying to determine what was happening, because it was a new experience.

  Linpint asked Amitu to slide the boy down the side of the armadillo so he could reach him. Rustumarin had a spear poised near the animal’s head and Ramaduku had one near the tail. Amitu slowly slid the boy down and Linpint lifted him off the animal. He took Olf to a small hill and told the boy to stay there. He returned to Amitu.

  “Slide down the side of the animal, Amitu. I’ll be here to pick you up just like with Olf,” Linpint said, noticing the beast was starting to move. “Be quick!” he said trying not to show his concern in his voice.

  Amitu began her slide. The shell was rough, and the animal moved quickly in a shift to the side Amitu had slid down. No one realized the armadillos could move that quickly. Khlaput noticed the animal’s movement and ran for Olf. He picked up the little one and headed for the forested area where trees were too close together to allow the armadillo to enter at that point.

  Rustumarin held his spear against the neck of the armadillo to keep it turned away from Amitu. As soon as her feet hit the ground and Linpint saw she was standing securely, he let her go and she raced home. Ramaduku ran to the other side of the armadillo and poked it with his spear. It caused the armadillo to head toward the path that went into the woods. Finally, with some prods and thrown rocks, the men got the animal to go down the pathway that would take it to the lower land it used, if it chose to continue on the path.

  Khlaput came out of the woods with Olf and they walked home.

  “Wait,” Linpint called to Khlaput, “Who was watching over Olf?”

  “I think he came with his mother,” Khlaput said. “I haven’t seen her for a while,” he added.

  Linpint looked for Achi, his daughter-in-law. He didn’t see her anywhere. He returned to the cave, but Achi was not there. He went to a lookout point and did not see her anywhere. He called to his son, Lamitun.

  “Where’s Achi?” he asked his son.

  “I have no idea. She went with the women earlier to look for bird eggs.”

  “She may have been with Olf just before he climbed on the back of the smooth-tailed armadillo, but she hasn’t been seen since,” Linpint said with concern.

  “My son did what?” Lamitun couldn’t believe his son had climbed onto the back of an armadillo.

  “That can hold for a moment, son. The problem now is that your wife is missing.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Of course.”

  Lamitun immediately began to gather as many men as possible for a hunt for Achi. He found fourteen men and they immediately spread out in the area between the cave and forest to search. If not found, they would go through the forest. They searched for quite some time before Tukyatuk whistled three times. Tukyatuk was down in a deep arroyo not far from where Olf had encountered the armadillo. Under an overhang that shielded Achi from view above, she lay with a twisted leg. Tokatumeta brought a stretcher and they placed the unconscious woman on the stretcher. The leg that remained whole was swollen. The men quickly found two marks showing a snake had bitten her. They assumed it was poisonous due to the swelling of the leg.

  Lamitun was horrified. He quickly unrolled her sleeping skins and prepared a soft place for her. Uilo told the children that they were to come to her in the cave, not trouble their father while he looked after their mother.

  In all the confusion of the day, no one seemed to notice Amitu squatting in a quiet area of the cave, until Meninkua passed by her and stopped. She noticed that Amitu was shaking.

  “Are you sick, Little One?” she asked.

  Amitu shook her head, signifying the negative.

  Meninkua squatted down beside the trembling girl. “What’s causing you to shake?”

  “Armadillo,” was all she’d say.

  Meninkua hadn’t heard about the armadillo, so she didn’t understand.

  “Are you cold?”

  Amitu nodded her head affirmatively.

  Meninkua went to find a skin to wrap around the trembling girl. She saw Jalutui and asked her if she knew why Amitu was shaking.

  “She climbed on the back of the smooth-tailed armadillo to rescue Olf, who climbed up there. She’s probably terrified. Where is she?”

  “She’s back there near the herbs. I’m going to get a skin to wrap around her.”

  Jalutui walked back to the shivering girl. She sat beside her and pulled the girl into her ample lap. “Shhhhhhh,” she murmured, “You’re safe now.” Jalutui’s arms surrounded Amitu confirming her words.

  Amitu slowly, almost imperceptibly, began to relax. Meninkua returned with a furred skin that was not too heavy but would provide good comfort as well as warmth. Gently she laid it over the girl who lay on Jalutui’s lap and legs. Meninkua went to the herb keep and took a pinch of some leaves she’d mixed and kept in gourds. She put the herbs in a gourd and poured some hot water on them. She carried the gourd to Jalutui and said, “Get her to drink all of this. It’ll calm her.”

  Meninkua returned to the herb keep and took the snakebite paste and powder. She also gathered some straight pieces of wood and soft leather strips stored nearby for setting broken bones. Meninkua was the acknowledged bonesetter. She’d worked with Colitoba for years to learn the use of herbs and had become proficient. She had been on her way to get the supplies for Achi. Achi was still sleeping, and Meninkua wanted to do the painful work of setting the leg right, while the young woman was still sleeping.

  While Meninkua worked on the broken leg, Folifilo passed by.

  “Wait,” Meninkua said.

  Folifilo stopped and asked, “Are you talking to me, Meninkua?”

  “Yes. Your granddaughter is back by the herbs with Jalutui. She was the one who rescued Olf this morning by climbing on the armadillo and lowering him to Linpint. She is shivering in the back of the cave and Jalutui is comforting her. She is very shaken. Odd, isn’t it, that sometimes our heroes are shaken badly by the very events that caused them to be heroes.”

  Folifilo nodded at Meninkua. “Is she okay?”

  “I think she’ll be fine, but she needs some patience, understanding, and comfort right now. I think she’s terrified of the armadillo but was more frightened for Olf.”

  “Thank you, Meninkua. I’ll go back to see what, if anything, I can do.” She walked down the tube-like cave structure to the place where herbs were kept. She thought to herself that when she was Amitu�
��s age, she’d never heard of an armadillo, spiked-tailed or smooth. Life seemed so much simpler then. She smiled to herself as she remembered slogging through the snow, covered in furred skins. Maybe it wasn’t all that much easier.

  She squatted down near Jalutui and Amitu. Her granddaughter smiled weakly.

  Folifilo took Amitu’s hand and felt the chill. “I hear you were a real hero!” she said brightly.

  “I was terrified for me and for Olf. He was too young to leave alone on the armadillo. I didn’t have time to think what to do.”

  “You made the right decision.”

  “When I got back here, I really fell to pieces like a rock that shatters when it falls from a high place. I’m trying hard to put myself back together.”

  “You just rest there until you feel better. Don’t keep reliving it. It’s behind you. Olf is fine—thanks to you. You are fine. The men chased the armadillo down the path through the forest in the direction of the lowlands.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother. “

  “You’re welcome, Little Hero.”

  Folifilo got up and headed for Meninkua. She wondered how Achi was doing.

  Meninkua told her, “Achi awakened briefly and seemed concerned for Olf. She said she fell after the snake bit her. It was clear she remembered nothing else but worry for Olf. I told her Olf was fine, and the girl fell back into unwanted sleep.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Folifilo asked.

  “I’ve just finished up. Would you watch her for a while?”

  “Gladly,” Folifilo said seating herself to watch over the young woman.

  To the north Zamimolo, Jup, Grakumashi, Obi, and Numing were entering the village of the Northern Kapotonok. Chief Paaku came running to meet them. They stood there with their mouths hanging open. The men in the village were painted. Some had feathers in their hair. Most were without clothing.

  “Come quickly, so we can get you painted,” the Chief said.

  “Why the paint?” Grakumashi asked slightly offended by the idea.