“Ti told us about the search. Did it go well for your People?” Chief Paaku asked, his voice cracking, age showing.
“These two we brought from home decided they really wanted each other,” Linpint commented, followed by laughter from the Kapotonok while Linpint pulled a fish bone from his mouth. “Picota found a man of the Nola Nola and we went with her to his village. That is where we were before we arrived here. Tas found a wife and left for the far south, and Nob. What can I say about Nob? He seemed not to fit well. He didn’t know what to do. He met a young man who wanted to adventure through the big country to the south, and Nob decided to accompany him.”
“Some men are designed for adventure and exploring. They seem unable to remain confined to a village. The allure of the big land to the south is strong. You two have some of that desire for adventure in you. Those are the people who bring understanding to others of things in this land we don’t know—if they return,” the Chief said.
The people chatted until dark and the Chief gave them a place to sleep in a tent shelter next to his hut. After the morning meal, they left on the path that would take them over the mountains to home.
When the People arrived back home, they went through the armadillo barrier and many raced from the lowland and cave to meet them. Some wondered why Ahah and Ventumoko had been unsuccessful.
Ventumoko found Lomah and hugged her.
“Why is it, my Son, that you are here with no wife?”
“Mother,” he chuckled, “Ahah is my wife!”
“No,” she said with mock disbelief. “That is a good source of humor. The two of you had to go that distance to know what everyone here has known for years?”
Ahah arrived and overheard the conversation. She added, “It took my seeing the hungry eyes of others on Ventumoko for me to realize how I loved him and how jealous I was of others who might want to take him from me. I was terribly blind, but I see much clearer now.”
Lomah hugged her. “Welcome home, Daughter,” she beamed. “Ba,” she called to Ahah’s mother, “Welcome your son.”
“Oh, no, you took that trip to discover that you were meant for each other?”
Ahah hugged Ba and replied, “Yes, Mother. I was slow to see what was right before me.”
“I’m glad you finally saw. Welcome home, Ventumoko.”
“Thank you, Mother,” he said using that term for the first time with Ba. “We had a wonderful trip, saw so much of the land, and are very happy to be home.”
“Where is Picota?” Colitoba called as she waddled down from the hill where the cave was located.
Linpint sprinted to her and told her, “Picota found a very good man of the Nola Nola. He wanted to remain with the Nola Nola. She decided to join him to live there, so we accompanied her there to be sure all was well. She joined with Bul the night before we left. She lives on the big land to the south on the central part of the north by the sea.”
“Does she appear happy?”
“Colitoba, Picota seems very, very happy.”
“I will miss her.”
Linpint put his arms around her. “She will miss her People, but she will be happy among the Nola Nola with Bul.” Linpint wondered whether he should tell her about Olomaru-mia, but he decided he’d better discuss it with Zamimolo before sharing that information.
Later Zamimolo and Linpint walked to the burial ground. The view from there was the best in the area. They listened for the drums. There was no sound that night.
“I had an awkward thought when Colitoba came to ask about Picota. I did not tell her about Olomaru-mia. Should we share that?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. For some reason, Mia didn’t want us to recognize her, so that may hold true for all the People. She’ll eventually realize that Picota is her sister, but she’ll handle the information however best for the two of them. I think we should leave things of the past to the past.” Zamimolo walked over to a smooth rock and climbed to the top of it. He threw his arms wide as if to embrace the sea.
Linpint leaned against a tree and wondered why, after what he’d seen Zami do, he asked him for counsel on anything. Then he realized that Zami was still Zami, regardless of what he’d done. Before the trip he depended on Zami. There was no real reason not to do the same after the trip. He felt confused, and momentarily covered his face with his hands. Inwardly he wanted to scream out to Zami asking him why he did such an evil deed. It still sickened Linpint. But, Linpint reasoned, he’d done evil deeds in his life, so he really had no right to consider himself better somehow. He also knew that Mechalu had pushed Zami to the ends of his coping with life for a long time. He thought how Ba saved Zami from himself, bringing him to life in some ways. Their life was good. He thought how he had spied upon his friend. Had he not done that, he’d never have known. Was his knowledge what soured his present view? Linpint knew Zami had no desire for any other murder. Zami had been sober on the trek from the land of the Nola Nola to their home. His normal lighthearted, natural humor absented itself in silence. The young people didn’t seem to notice the change, but Linpint and Zamimolo knew each other very well. Linpint could hear Zami speaking. Some of the words were clear to him.
Zamimolo stood on the rock and opened his heart to Wisdom: “I have done evil in your sight, Wisdom. I killed a man for something he did far in the past. I hated him for a long time, since he stole Mia from me. There was no need for me to murder. Mia was happy with him and he seemed a good man. Who was I to take his life? That is what the old man warned me against, and I didn’t understand. Wisdom, I hurt Mia by doing that. I didn’t think at the time that I would deprive her of a husband. The last thing I wanted to do was deprive her of happiness. Wisdom, I ask you to forgive me for murder. I ask you to take good care of Mia. She deserves all the good that life can bring. Forgive me for hurting her.” He drew his arms close to him, put them to his face, and wept. He got to his knees and continued to weep. He’d held it in since the murder. Finally, he’d acknowledged his evil to Wisdom. He hoped to bury his evil at the burying ground. He flattened himself on the rock that still retained heat from the sun.
Linpint didn’t know whether to leave or remain there. Because Zamimolo had no apparent sense of his environment, Linpint decided to remain to watch over him. Finally, Zamimolo returned to a kneeling position. He threw his arms wide again and looked to the sky. “Never again will I murder. I swear upon my own life, Wisdom, I shall never murder again.” Slowly, he got to his feet and turned, realizing that Linpint was there.
“You heard?” he asked.
“I heard some of your words, Zami. The wind blows here, so I didn’t hear all. I understand what happened.”
“I feel like a broken man, unfit somehow.”
“Zami, you did something evil. You’ve determined never to repeat it.
You’ve asked Wisdom for forgiveness. You have done all you can do. You have responsibilities in life. Take them seriously. Go to Ba. Treat her well. Do good for your People. Wisdom has forgiven you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re still among us—healthy.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s go back.”
The two began the walk to the cave.
It had been two years since the great wife/husband search. Linpint and Numing were at the Southern Kapotonok village when a boat appeared on the horizon. Many watched to see whether it appeared to be a threat. It came toward them. The boat had no sail. It was made from a tree trunk that had been burned and dug out and burned and dug out until the huge tree trunk made a large boat that could be rowed. The boat continued towards them. The occupants took a rock that was tied by rope to another rock and tossed one of the rocks over the side of the boat. That anchored the boat, so that the occupants could leave the boat and come to shore, knowing the boat would not drift off. Leaving the boat was one very dark skinned person, one with dark tan skin and one a little lighter, and one with very pale skin. Linpint recognized Picota.
Chief
Hirmit, very old but still well, hobbled from his seat to hold his hands open and out in greeting. The greeting was returned by the man with the dark tan skin.
“Welcome to our village,” Chief Hirmit said, his voice firmer and far younger looking than his body.
“Thank you,” Coshiga said.
“I am Chief Hirmit, Chief of the Southern Kapotonok. Our land runs from the river north of here all the way to the place where this narrow land connects with the big land to the south. We are part of a large group of people who live from places in the big land to the south to the big land to the north. We have lived here since our ancestors crossed the western sea. That was before time.”
“I am Coshiga, traveler and now part of the Nola Nola. This is my wife, Tuna. The small woman with the very dark skin smiled. This is my son Bul, and this is his wife, Picota. We come here searching for the leaves to chew that keep one from fatigue when traveling. Are any available here or do you have some for which we could trade?”
The Chief made it clear they would discuss that soon. He asked about weapons and they assured him their weapons were on the boat.
Picota recognized Linpint and Numing, but she did not show it to them, except with her eyes. Meetings like this were formal and all were to be silent until the initial formalities concluded.
At length the Chief led all of them to the gathering place. He served them fruit and nuts. The food was finally removed and the Chief asked what they had to trade.
“I have a clear crystal of great beauty,” Coshiga said and then asked, “Do you have a supply of the leaves we seek?”
The old Chief nodded.
“I would like to see the crystal,” the old Chief said, his eyes fixed on the sand.
Coshiga looked at Bul. He said nothing.
“I’ll get it, Father.” He stood up and trotted off to the boat. He returned with a small leather wrapped object. He didn’t know whether to hand it to his father or the Chief.
“Hand it to the Chief, Son,” Coshiga said smiling.
Chief Hirmit opened the wrapping and looked at the crystal inside. In all his years he’d never seen anything like the crystal. He held it up to the light and then tasted it. He didn’t understand it, had no idea how or where it originated, what its use might be, but he wanted it. Coshiga observed him as he studied it. He had been a trader. He knew how to determine the interest of someone studying an object.
“We have leaves in supply that we dry. They fill pouches when we trek. Chewing them keeps us filled with energy.”
“I need a pouch this size,” Coshiga showed with his hands. “For that I will trade the crystal.”
“That’s almost all we have,” Chief Hirmit said plaintively.
Coshiga sat patiently, looking at the Chief. He said nothing. For quite some time no one made a sound.
Finally, Chief Hirmit looked at Tomarghi, “Get a new pouch and fill it as he showed. I will have this crystal.”
Once the exchange was made, the people gathered in different groups and talked before the Nola Nola would leave. Linpint saw Picota at the water’s edge and he walked towards her.
“Picota, are you well?”
“Yes, I adore Bul. I am so happy we found each other. How are the People?”
“They are fine. How are Chief Uvela, Mechalu, and Olomaru-mia?”
“That’s a sad story. The Chief is not well. Mechalu had a place where he used to sing and dance on an outcropping on a hill. He’d do it with his eyes shut! Apparently, he went there and while he had his eyes shut, he fell and died. In addition, long ago it seems Mechalu abducted Olomaru-mia. He was on his trial of manhood and he had to find a prize that showed he was a man. He abducted her for his prize of valor. The problem with that choice is that when a man of the Nola Nola dies, his prize of valor is buried with him.” She paused. Tears fell down her cheeks.
Linpint’s stomach sickened.
Picota wiped her tears and continued. “One of the Nola Nola killed her so she could be buried with Mechalu. They killed her, because they don’t bury people alive. The children were separated among the villagers to raise. I understand that Olomaru-mia was greatly loved. She was the storyteller. Nobody talks much about her or Mechalu because it brings too much sadness. Linpint, she was my sister.”
“I know,” he replied. “I will not ever share this with the People.” Linpint wanted to retch, but he controlled himself. He did not want her to see the turmoil that raged within him. In many ways he wished he hadn’t asked. Why, he wondered, did he seek after information that later turned into burdens for him?
“Nor will I, if I ever see them again,” she whispered.
Bul joined Picota and Linpint. “I remember you,” he said. “How are you?”
“Doing well, and you?” Linpint affected a lighthearted spirit that he did not feel.
“Couldn’t be better. We’re off on a journey with our traveling parents. They’ve been everywhere. This time we’re heading north to explore the big land to the north. Fortunately, I went to the Alitukit School, so they know me. They won’t give us trouble for passing their land.”
“I wish you a good trip.”
“Thank you. I’m sure we’ll have one. Coshiga loves to travel, so this time we decided to go with him. We’re enjoying it so far.”
Linpint watched them wade out to the boat and get in. He watched as they rowed along the shoreline. True to his word, he did not share the information about Olomaru-mia with Numing. Some knowledge was to be a burden, and he reasoned this was another one of those.
That night, Linpint lay on his bedding on the sand with the starry sky above him. He tried to make sense of Mechalu’s abduction of Olomaru-mia and Zamimolo’s murder of Mechalu. He and Zami knew Mechalu had been murdered. He and the Nola Nola knew Olomaru-mia had been killed. Only he knew the whole story. The Wise One of the Southern Kapotonok knew it all, but he was dead. When he and Zamimolo died, he hoped none of the People would ever know what happened.
He wondered whether he should tell Zamimolo what he learned from Picota about Olomaru-mia. For a long while he let his thoughts stop racing through his mind web. He relaxed. Finally, he knew. He wouldn’t share that horrifying news with Zamimolo. What would be the point? Zamimolo already had burden enough over what he’d done. To add this might be a burden he could not endure. Linpint purposed to carry the burden himself. People would continue with no need to hear this, no need for this story to spread the evil by sharing the thought that murder was an option, no need to vilify Zamimolo’s name for all the ages. The deed was evil on the part of both men. Best if it were left unspoken. By leaving it unsaid, it also would not give others birth to the idea that they might do what Zamimolo had done. Some day that idea would be born among the People as it had with Zamimolo, but he would not be the one to spread it now. Zamimolo’s idea a few years ago on the rock at the burying ground was a good one. Bury the knowledge in the burying ground. Linpint made a burying ground in his mind web. He would bury it there and live his life according to Wisdom’s plan—for the good of the People.
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