Ghost Monkey

by Paul R. Davis

  Iron doors opened to reveal a well-lit interior, with beautiful tapestries filled with dyes from berries, plants, and bugs. Statues of otters were positioned along staircases which led to catwalks and large balconies. The eyes of the otter statues, unlike the ones outside, had sapphires inset.

  The smell was savory and thick, with plenty of meaty dishes spiced with delicious flavors lost to an otter's tongue and nose. Men and women danced in the center of the room, with tables all around them. Many wore little more than loin cloths and sheer tops, revealing beautiful forms. Ishku's cheeks were hot from the sight, and Piv leaned over. "Yet none of them are as beautiful as you."

  She chortled, not entirely sure why, then her senses snapped back to everything around her. She trembled, legs weak, until they gave in and she knelt. Piv knelt beside her. Warm arms wrapped around her and gave comfort. She focused on the warmth, drowning out the bewildering surroundings. He whispered into her ear, "It is okay. We are all confused our first time. It's intentional. When you see all these sensations in the city, they will be easier to process."

  The woman cried, wanting the simplicity of her otter life back. Yet the allure and complexity of these new senses would never allow her to be happy as the otter she was. Her stomach growled and snapped her out of self-pity. She went to a table and sat without another word. Fish beyond imagining adorned the table, and she picked one up and ripped through the flesh and tore apart the bones.

  Piv put his hand on hers to slow her down. "You can't eat the bones. Just a friendly warning. It's very uncomfortable." So she ate only slightly more daintily, making sure to pick out most of the bones before finishing the meal.

  Ishku gave into all the delights of the night. She ate a little bit of everything, until she ate a lot more than she should have. Feeling uncomfortably full was a strange sensation, something she could never acquire in the wild. She drank juices and spirits until her head was light, and everything made her laugh. The dancers invited her to join them. Overly long limbs flailed, a new born in comparison to the practiced performers.

  Moments before dawn, Piv took her into a back room with a bed, and she took part in mating as a human woman as well. Entwined with Piv, every pleasure melted away the apprehensions.

  The next morning Piv woke Ishku. Every chirp of a bird was a hammer to her skull. Piv's touch evoked cringes instead of thrills. He gave her a drink and said, "Take it. It will ease the pain." There was no humor in Ishku's heart, no matter how much Piv smirked and chuckled.

  The pain from the night dulled, and Ishku got out of bed. Piv said, "I am a craftsman. I make some of the most beautiful jewelry in all Jaya, and my creations are worn by nobility and priests. You are the most beautiful of our clan, and your heart is immense. They say you would delight in children, and I need children. Will you be my mate?"

  The formality didn't exist in nature. Ishku's father and mother met, it felt natural, and mother was added to his harem. Pairing led to horrible scarification on her face. Yet here, Piv spewed words with little meaning to Ishku, but they seemed kind and considerate.

  "I would be honored."

  MAIDENS TOOK ISHKU to the temple courtyard and dressed her in a red sari with golden threads at the trim to make a pattern appropriate for the otter clan. Henna marked along her arms and on her forehead, creating elaborate patterns, which intimidated the poor bride. Delicate gold links formed a circlet which adorned her head. A broach sporting a massive emerald, sapphire, ruby, and diamond, nestled in her hair. Pearls wrapped around her neck.

  One of the handmaidens said, "This is all crafted by your soon to be husband, Piv. He is beyond talented, and with you, beyond affectionate. You two will have a beautiful life filled with making lots of children."

  Ishku blushed as she went on to think of Piv's body, then her and the girls giggled.

  When Ishku was fully decorated, they escorted her outside. There was a canopy tethered to branches. Below the canopy there was a fire, a mound of rocks, a bowl of water, and a bowl with smoldering incense. Piv rested under the canopy in front of the four elements, and Ishku was led to join him, sitting elegantly on the floor.

  Piv whispered, "You look more beautiful every time I see you."

  "You've seen me twice," she said, smirking. "I fear I'm marrying a flatterer."

  "You are marrying a craftsman and a poet. May the words and jewelry I lavish you be equal to your beauty. Do you like what I made for you?"

  People filed in, though Ishku knew none of them. They all sat on the ground, leaving a path in the center for the priestess to walk down. Rubek stood at the other end and winked at Ishku. The familiarity, the only face she recognized in her short time as a janaav, filled her breast with warmth.

  "They are stunning, but I preferred last night." Her fingers gently brushed his. "One can feel quite lavish when wearing nothing at all." She took joy in him swallowing hard and turning red as if sunburned. It was the first time he was silent.

  Rubek approached the couple. Music strummed in the background. Rubek reached the canopy and lifted her hands, "To the spirits—the Ashtadash—I present Priv and Ishku, two who walk the dharma of the otter janaav, having known life as both otter and janaav, for it is only right to mix the blood of like generations." The crowd murmured a chant. Ishku couldn't make it out, though she wasn't sure if it was because the chant was so quiet, or they used a different language.

  "Do we have the consent of the spirits to marry these two?" Rubek continued.

  Ishku gasped and leaned back as the four elements in front of her came to life. The water came together to form a toad, which croaked, "I consent."

  The rocks cobbled together into a little statue, and the lips moved to groan, "I consent."

  The wisps of incense wrapped around each other until lips formed to whisper, "I consent."

  The top half of a woman with red skin came out of the fire. "I consent."

  "The spirits, on behalf of the Ashtadash, bless these proceedings. Priv and Ishku, take each others hands." And so they did, though Ishku felt the incense in her nostrils, and the world blurred. Her lungs and head were not used to the poignant fragrance.

  Rubek put a lotus in their cupped hands and poured oil over it. "You are anointed into your new life. May you follow the path of dharma, so that you may be reunited in all subsequent lives, until you are no longer bound to this world, but you are a part of all things." Then Piv guided Ishku so they walked around the elements several times, until he stopped back where they started. Every trip around made Ishku’s heart beat harder.

  Singing and music started. People threw flower petals. Bride and groom were hoisted up and carried into the otter clan building where another great feast awaited. They were placed at the head table, and all their food was brought to them. Ishku ate and drank without ever needing to speak a word. Then she asked, "What were those things? The toad, the woman—the things?" She was at a loss for words. Being an otter most her life didn't prepare her for the experience.

  Piv's eyes turned crescent from mirth. "Those are the spirits. There is water, earth, air, and fire. They guide us. Once we were guided by eighteen of the wisest: the Ashtadash. Now you only hear of your friend's brother's grandma seeing them."

  "What does that mean?" She squinted, trying to discern the weird phrase.

  "It means it probably didn't happen. It was likely too much drink or smoke. Maybe eating a bad frog or drinking of the wrong water." He shrugged. "They left us long ago, but the spirits here lead us as needed. By now, it's the janaav who lead anyway, with man following our instinct, strength, and courage."

  The rest of the day was one long celebration. Then, at night, Piv and Ishku bedded for the second time.

  Years of trying revealed that either Piv's seed was not strong enough to take root, or Ishku's womb was barren.

  One night, as they were about to bed, Piv stopped and sat up. "This is fruitless. We need a water spirit. Maybe she can tell us what is wrong. Perhaps my seed is weak and, spirits could gi
ve the needed strength. Or your womb is dry, and spirits could wet it to be receptive."

  Ishku's heart broke, and she looked away in shame. She helped birth children all day, but she couldn’t conceive her own.

  The following morning they went to a water spirit, Cadm, and Piv said, "Spirit Cadm, we can’t have children. Please, let us know if it is her womb or my seed. Give us a solution so we can have kids. If it’s dharma, give us a way to repent."

  Cadm did not appear as a person, but instead was a bowl of water with a fish in it. The fish said, "Have the woman place her finger in the bowl, but do not panic. This will scare you, but it will not harm."

  Ishku put her hand in the bowl, and water wrapped around her arm and climbed up. It traced down her torso and past her pounding heart. Finally it settled on her stomach, weaving around and soaking into her skin. Ishku gave a shriek at the cold entering her.

  "I see," the fish said. "Now, young man, put your hand in the bowl." The water went up his arm and disappeared, but the surprise in his eyes and sudden cough told Ishku where the water went. The water receded and again the fish said, "I see."

  There was a lengthy pause, where Piv and Ishku stood side by side waving back and forth in reticence.

  "The woman otter is barren. The seed will never find fertile ground. It may be physical, it may be her dharma." The fish then swam a circle, as if it said nothing and was simply a fish.

  Ishku dropped to her knees and wept. The news strangled her.

  Piv embraced her. He asked, "Is there anything we can do?"

  Cadm said, "I can try to heal her womb. Leave her here a week, and when she is returned, she will produce children for you."

  For the next week, the water spirit changed into many forms and poked and prodded at Ishku. Numerous teas of varying disgusting textures and flavors were provided. Every time she was tempted to stop drinking, she remembered Piv and saw their children together. Then, on the seventh day, Cadm said, "You are complete. Your womb will take his seed, and you will have children. My request is that the first child is mine for five years, and then I will return him. They will continue visiting me until they are twelve and their body changes. After that, they may visit, or they may not. Because I healed you, the water element will be in their blood, and I need to teach someone what I know. Are these terms acceptable?"

  The deception angered Ishku, but the healing was done. "Of course," she said, swallowing back the words she wanted to spew, the curses she wanted to lob at the trickster. At least it wasn't a life of servitude. She also knew it meant her first child would be powerful and revered. Janaav elementalists were exceedingly rare.

  "I wish you the best. Go and follow your dharma. The Ashtadash will bless you plentifully now that I've touched your womb. Just make sure you give birth as a woman. Give birth as an otter, and the child will be broken."

  Ishku went back to Piv, and she felt a glow emanating from her stomach. "Piv, my love," she said, "I am ready to give you children." They were with each other for many nights, and soon a man who knew the secrets of water confirmed she had a child in her belly. Piv threw a feast for seven days.

  "I never thought I'd have a child," Ishku said while laying in Piv's arms. "We will be greatly blessed."

  "The child will have a bright future as my apprentice. He will start while young."

  Ishku frowned. "Love, I have something to tell you. Cadm claimed our first born. She will teach the child until five, then periodically until twelve. She only told me after she healed me."

  Piv shuddered, arms tense until they crushed Ishku. At her pained mewls, he released her and sat up. "I will revoke the promise. We dealt with her in good faith, and only after you're healed she tells you what the cost is? I will kill her."

  "Husband, lay down. If she told us the price before healing me, I would have gone anyway. We will have three more children before our first returns to us. Please, do not upset her and make her go back on her word. Do not let her remove my fertile womb."

  He relented and dropped back down beside her. "When we have our child we will discuss with Cadm." He kissed Ishku's brow, and the two went to bed.

  People saw a happy pregnant couple, two parents incapable of staying quiet about their child. But privately, while in bed, Priv would sour about the deal made with Cadm. Ishku suffered the abuses knowing they would have a child either way, and when it was finished Piv would be overjoyed at fatherhood. She could endure for a few months. After three months, as they were otters as well as men, Ishku said, "I’m in labor. Fetch the physician."

  Piv ran off as servants helped Ishku to her bed. They put pillows under her and comforted her with towels dipped in cool water. When the physician arrived, he told her to push. She felt the small body leave her, and Ishku cried at what the spirits gave her. Then her heart sank when there was no crying. Piv roared in anger and tore his clothes. Ishku wept for the next month, mourning the loss and cursing everyone she knew.

  Then, after the month was up and she regained her wits, Ishku said, "It was an accident," she said. "We can try again." So they did. Three times.

  When the fourth child perished, Piv said, "I am going to Cadm. I will kill her and free us of her curse."

  "It is not her," Ishku said, sullen. "It is me. I will be back. Let me go for a walk, then I will drink to ease my mind."

  Ishku cried when she arrived at Cadm's hut. She said, "You failed. My body is not strong enough, even with your magic. Ease my pain. Give me poison so I can end my humiliation. Then Piv will marry a woman capable of having children."

  "I am sorry for your loss." Cadm formed into a woman for the first time, and tears drained from her eyes without ceasing. She captured them in a small flask, and said, "Add this to any drink and swallow it. Then you will die."

  Back home, Ishku ordered a servant to bring her wine, and Ishku poured the tears into the drink. "Go, and send my husband up in an hour."

  But the servant saw the despair and knew the signs of forsaking the path given to all living things, and she fled from the room down to Piv and said, "Your wife fights dharma by killing herself. She wants to release you from her."

  Piv dashed up the steps. As the cup touched Ishku's lips, Piv slapped the wine away. "You will not take your life, and I will not take your honor. Walk your path of dharma. You are good with pregnant women. Continue to comfort them. But you are no longer welcome in my house. I will find a wife who can bare children so my line continues. I’m sorry for whatever sin you committed in another life to be so cursed. I pray your dharma will set it right, and you will have a multitude of children in the next life."

  IT HAD BEEN WEEKS SINCE anyone outside her clients spoke to her, and Ishku shuddered as if woken from a dream. "Excuse me?"

  "You've a sad face. How do I make you smile?" She couldn't tell Aavu was a tiger. She couldn't see the stripes on his skin under his robes. She could only see his intense amber eyes boring into her. The look was one of either attraction or hunger.

  "Not looking at me would be a start. What are you? Men don't have those eyes." She wrapped her arms around her tighter, a hand covering her neck.

  Aavu laughed and sat full lotus in front of her. "I'm Aavu, a tiger janaav. I won't eat you. Our manners don't improve, but our eating habits do."

  Ishku snickered, then was solemn. "I see," she said, hiding mirth. It was the first time she felt humor in a long time. "I am Ishku, an otter janaav. I am cursed and cast out."

  The tiger was confused as he looked at her face more intently. "You don't have the marking of an outcaste." He touched her forehead, and she recoiled. "So what do you mean?"

  "My dharma as a caretaker remains. I help birth children. In return, I cannot birth my own."

  He grunted and sat next to her against the building. "Sounds difficult. Sorry this life sucks."

  "I get to watch everyone else pass on their line, unable to pass on my own." Tears welled up and spilled over her cheeks.

  "And imagine, as an otter you wouldn't be nearly a
s aware of this. Cruel fate." It was matter of fact, like they were talking about some distant plight. Though, as an otter, she would share her mate, and he would abuse—possibly kill—her.

  The two were silent, though the silence was engulfed by the din of the crowd. She looked up, sniffled, and wiped her cheeks.

  Aavu did not look at her. He looked straight ahead, watching people as they passed. "As an otter it's all instinct. You don't think about not having babies or having them. You just do what you'd do. But you're janaav."

  "You're not a nice man."

  "Maybe you're looking at life wrong. You get to enjoy a lot you wouldn't as an otter. It is a shame you focus on one issue."

  He smiled, stood up, and walked away, but Ishku was left with a dozen thoughts. First and foremost was how one of the greatest predators of Jaya was so simple and straightforward. After that, she pondered why she wasn't more grateful for what she had. Was ignorance better than awareness?

  The meeting shifted Ishku's view on life as she continued forward. Every birth gave her the same joy as the mother. Each child became her own in a way, and the mothers accepted this love. She had a small house on the outskirts of the city, near a small pond which fed into the Ganga River. As her reputation thrived, mothers came to her to birth in the small pond which remained warm all year long. Soon there was a line from the time the sun raised until it set. All of Jaya became her child, and it left a warmth in her chest during the day.

  At night, try as she might to remain grateful, the loneliness ached. She went out to find Aavu and found he was a tanner. The scent of the cured and drying hides wrinkled Ishku's nose.

  "Aavu, I am Ishku. You changed my life with your wisdom." She parted a few hung skins, and he stood over a fresh piece of leather with fur still attached.

  "How'd I do that?" He looked up briefly, then went back to his work, rubbing the hide roughly in order to toughen it and remove the fur.