by Marion Hill
If someone makes a mistake and seeks to correct it, shouldn’t they be forgiven? I wondered. Does that mean I shouldn’t seek forgiveness for any mistakes I’ve made in my life?
Questions like these ran through my mind constantly. Aunt Maxina had placed the Book of Kammbi back into the room in Ama’s Faddar after our visit. I would like to have read the whole thing to see what forgiveness meant to Kammbi.
Trayvonne came to pick me up for the visit in his RKV-100. The RKV-100 was not built anymore and was considered a rare automobile. Trayvonne kept that car looking like he had just bought it from the automobile dealer. It was the envy of the neighborhood. He sped away from my home, awakening my neighbors.
A few minutes later, he reached Ama’s Parkway, going northeast through the west side, heading toward the center of the city. I saw the vacant buildings and hated how my family had neglected this area of our city.
“Are you all right, bro?” Trayvonne asked.
“Oh, just looking at the scenery.”
“Remember, your Uncle Xavier doesn’t care about the ants.”
“Well, he should care, Trayvonne! What have these people done to him? Whether they came from Terrance during the migration or are native-born to the city, they deserve to have this area looking just like the east side.”
Trayvonne laughed and replied, “You really do hate your uncle.”
I must admit, at that moment I probably did. Maybe he felt the same way about me. We had never gotten along with each other, and I had stayed away from him while I was living in the family home. Things only seemed worse now that I had moved out.
Trayvonne made a left off Ama’s Parkway onto Charlesville Highway, heading west out of the city. He turned on the stereo, and Ruben Davar began to play. He was considered one of the greatest Kammarice musicians in all of the cities south of the Great Forest. Kammarice music originated from the city of Terrance and Ruben Davar cut his teeth amongst best in that city. Ruben had played in the other cities of the region: Walter’s Grove and Adrian. He was the first non-singer to play for my family when Uncle Xavier took over as ruler from Great-Uncle Myro. His sound on the guitar had been describing as enchanting. Hearing his music on the stereo calmed me down.
Twenty minutes later, we were outside of the city limits and reached an area where the remaining descendants of the original Makala tribe lived. Uncle Xavier forced them out of the city and they settled here, where they could live together and keep honoring those traditions.
The Makala lived in small, red-mud homes bunched together, much like their ancestors had lived during Charles and Mother Adrianna’s time. It made me realize how much the city had changed, and it saddened me as well. It meant our past was gone except here, and the city had lost something because of it.
“I bet you haven’t come out this far before,” Trayvonne said as he parked in front of the first house of the village.
“No, I haven’t. We have definitely gone back in time.”
He laughed as we both got out of the car.
The home was faded red and had one big window that looked like two eyes fused together. Trayvonne knocked and opened the door. I followed him inside. The living room was sparsely furnished, with one long sofa and a huge life chart hanging on the wall behind it. I had never seen one that size before.
“Hello, Trayvonne and Diondray,” an old man said as he entered the living room, holding a tray of mango bread and a couple of glasses of mango juice.
I was surprised he knew my name. I assumed that Trayvonne had been talking about me to him quite a bit.
“I knew you were coming to see me, grandson. We had an overcast day out here, and that was a sign to be expecting visitors.”
“Scarro, I brought Diondray to you to talk about Charles,” Trayvonne said as we both sat down on the sofa.
Scarro sat on the ground in front of us. He had earned his name. Scarro had a face-long scar that started underneath his left eye and went across his plump cheek, then ended where his left jawbone and neck met. I wondered what had happened to him.
“Charles Azur’s father was not Sidney Azur, the great leader of our tribe.” he started. “His father came from the north and tried to teach his strange beliefs to the Makalas.”
“I heard that recently, Scarro,” I replied.
He faced me and said, “I bet it surprised you, being an Azur.”
I nodded and replied, “Why would my family hide this history?”
“A woman’s scorn can last a long time,” he replied and laughed softly. That laugh had a tone like he had dealt directly with a woman’s scorn. “Mother Adrianna was banished by her tribe because she had a child with Oscar Ortega. She loved him and wanted to stay amongst her people, even though Oscar was married.
“The elders decided to have her and the baby, Charles, leave the tribe. Their tribe had become a believer in Oscar’s god, Kammbi, and knew this was the only choice they could make under the circumstances.”
“Oscar’s wife, Sophia, came to that tribe, and Adrianna had to go,” I replied.
Scarro laughed softly again and said, “At least for a young man, you have some understanding about women. That will serve you well when you are ready to find a mate.”
I glanced at Trayvonne and saw his smirk. It had been several years since my last lady friend, Mara. That had ended, and not well, when I decided to go live on the west side.
“I heard that read from the Book of Kammbi,” I said.
Scarro had a surprised look on his face. “The Book of Kammbi is still here in Charlesville?”
“Yes, it is in Ama’s Faddar. My Aunt Maxina read it to me recently.”
“Scarro, I didn’t believe it when Diondray told me. I remembered you telling me the stories about that book being destroyed after Oscar came to reconcile with Charles,” Trayvonne added.
“Yes, my grandson. I did tell you that. And if the Book of Kammbi is still here . . . then Oscar’s words will be fulfilled after all.”
“His words?” I asked.
“Diondray, I’m sure your aunt read Oscar’s words—his prophecy. That there will be someone to follow after him and unite this land as one. He couldn’t reconcile with Charles because his god wouldn’t allow it. However, Kammbi granted him a wish, and that prophecy was it.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He knew about Oscar’s prophecy! I was starting to believe in this alternate history.
MOTHER WAS SURPRISED when I called to ask if I could come and visit with her. She told me that after the birthday dinner, she had thought it would be a while before she saw me again. Two days had passed since my visit with Scarro and Trayvonne, and I needed to hear from Mother about all I had learned.
Willar greeted me when I arrived and took me immediately to Mother’s wing of the family home. Uncle Xavier, Aunt Maxina, and Mother each had a separate wing, and for the most part, each one stayed in his or her own area until social gatherings or official family business. He knocked and opened Mother’s room door.
“My son, so good to see you,” she said as we embraced.
I released her quickly as Willar closed the door. How much did he know about this other history? If he knew, was my family forcing him to be silent?
“Is there something wrong?” she asked as we both sat on chairs next to her dresser.
Mother’s room had that signature smell from her favorite perfume, a mixture of mangoes, brownberries, and oranges. She was dressed in a long, flowing orange dress that made the whole room feel tropical.
“Mother, who is Oscar Ortega?” I said.
She frowned. “Where did you get that name from?”
“Was he Charles’s birth father?”
“Where did you get that blasphemy from? Answer me! You are still my child!”
“I thought Charles Azur’s father was Sidney Azur, our great ancestor. His father was actually a man from the north, Oscar Ortega. This man had an inappropriate relationship with Mother Adrianna that caused her to be banished f
rom her tribe. How long have you known this history?”
She reached for my hands. “Lies! Who has fed my son these lies? It is time for you to return back home and get away from those west siders and their stories.”
I got up from the chair. “Why has this never been mentioned in the city’s official records or at the festivals?”
She stood from her chair and grabbed me. I felt the sting of her slap landing on my left cheek.
“Don’t you ever talk about this history with me or anyone else! Sidney Azur took care of Mother Adrianna and Charles as his own. He’s a real man, not that man from the north.”
“So it’s true,” I replied and pulled out from her grasp.
“I will find out who told you this information, and they will be punished for it. You better not spread this history amongst those ants on the west side.”
“Too late for that. I guess this is what it means for the truth to set you free.”
“You will never be forgiven if you spread this history, my son.”
“Well, at least I won’t be known as a liar.”
“Get out!” she screamed.
I searched Mother’s face and sensed a cold spirit from her that I had never known existed. I left the room.
Chapter 5
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST a full month since I had given my last themily reading. We reached the end of Carm, and rain had not come. Hopefully Lir, the fourth of the year, would bring much-needed rain to the city.
Trayvonne had called me several times in the last few days. He knew my schedule of giving a reading every seven to eight days and had not seen me at the park since the beginning of the month. He was concerned.
I assured him that I would be okay. I had a lot to digest and couldn’t get my words right for my next themily. He accepted that excuse and vowed to check on me until I returned to Aliki Park.
I was trying to decide if I should reveal more of this alternate history. Mother had been wrong when she said the people on the west side told lies and false stories about our family. They believed the history of Charles and Mother Adrianna just like the east siders did. It was what we all learned at school. I worried they would have a strong reaction like Mother had, and that kept me from giving my readings on schedule.
Finally, I returned to the park. I stood on the podium and noticed the look of anticipation on their faces. I glanced to my left and saw Trayvonne and Sialia giving me smiles for encouragement. I must admit I was surprised that he’d kept Sialia for this long. Trayvonne must finally have found the right woman for him.
At that moment, I wished Mara could be here. I would have liked a companion to be here for support, someone with whom I could share how I really felt about everything I had learned in the last couple of months. But Mara felt like Uncle Xavier and Mother about the west siders. They were not on her level, and she didn’t want to associate with them.
“I said in my last reading, ‘Do you confront the one who has told you the lies? Or do you continue to believe in the lie you have been taught all of your life?’”
The audience was silent.
“I got a response from someone in the audience that you should confront the one who has told you the lie. And that truth is freedom,” I said and glanced at Sialia. “Well, I have confronted the person who has told me the lies. It was my mother.”
The audience shook their heads, mouths agape in disbelief.
“I have found out some history in our family that has never been told before.”
I paused and scanned the audience. They remained silent, but their faces disagreed with my claim against Mother. Even though my family did not treat these people well, they felt some loyalty toward them. I took a couple of deep breaths and started pacing on the podium.
“Charles’ father is not Sidney Azur, the great leader of the Makala tribe.” I continued.
“That’s crazy, Diondray!” someone from audience shouted at me.
“Everyone knows that Sidney Azur is Charles’ father and Mother Adrianna was his wife,” another audience member shouted.
I raised my hand to quiet them and continued. “Let me finish before you make a judgment on my words.”
The audience obeyed my request and let me continue with the reading.
“That last statement has been confirmed by a book that has been in our city since Charles was alive. My aunt, Maxina Azur, read it to me at Ama’s Faddar in the month of Beru. It is called the Book of Kammbi.”
“The Book of Kammbi! I thought that book was gotten rid of during Charles’s time,” someone from the audience yelled out.
I didn’t look out at the audience to find out where that comment came from. Instead I continued to pace the podium. “I believed that as well. However, the Book of Kammbi is still here in Charlesville, and it reveals that Charles’s father was a man from the north named Oscar Ortega.”
“He can’t stay still on the podium!” another voice from the audience yelled back. “He’s making this up!”
“Who made you get up to say these words, Mr. Azur?”
The audience erupted, and I had lost control of them. Trayvonne and Sialia rushed to join me on the podium. She reached out for my arms and stopped me from pacing.
“It’s all right,” Sialia whispered in my ear while embracing me. “You did good.”
Trayvonne was calming down the audience by telling them my claim was true. I looked out and saw the audience split into two sections. They were some CRG guards coming toward us.
The CRG guards were the city’s police force and protectors of our family. All of them were at least 6'3 inches tall and weighed close to 230 pounds. The guardsmen wore their custom bright yellow shirts and shorts that glowed off their night-colored skin. They demanded respect, and no one attempted to cross them.
“Diondray Azur, please come with us,” the first CRG guard who reached the podium said.
“For what?”
“You are being taken into holding for disseminating false information to our citizens,” he replied.
“What false information?” I replied as I was being escorted away.
He didn’t reply as the rest of the CRG Guards opened a path through the audience. I overheard some of the audience’s comments that thought I should be arrested. Was this the kind of freedom that truth brought?
I ARRIVED AT A HOLDING cell a few minutes later. I was told that Trayvonne and Sialia had been interrogated at the park and allowed to go home. It was disheartening to see that some of the audience wanted the CRG guards to arrest me. I’d thought I had gained their trust after the past three years of themily reading. Now I realized that trust could be fleeting, especially after revealing a truth that could change so much.
I demanded an explanation as to why I was brought to the holding cell. I had not done anything wrong, and I wanted to know who made the decision to keep me here. I was told I would get an explanation from the head of the CRG soon.
The size of the holding cell reminded me of my storage room back at the family home. I kept my wardrobe and shoes in that storage room, and it was not a large space. The bare walls of the holding cell were aqua blue like the water in the Bay of Charlesville. A long table similar to the one in Scarro’s home took up the center of the holding cell. I sat on the bench next to the table and wondered how long I was going to be kept here.
A few minutes later, I heard a turning at the door of the holding cell. A guard entered, holding a tray of food and a pitcher. He looked young, probably about my age of twenty-three. I didn’t know they allowed those of my age to join them.
The guard placed the food tray and pitcher on the table. There were brownberries, cooked redfish, and bread on that tray. I looked into the pitcher beside the food and saw it was brownberry juice. I guessed those who were held in this cell didn’t get mango bread and mango juice. That was not good.
Moments later, he returned with a glass and placed it next to the pitcher. He left the holding cell without talking. At least I was going to get fed wh
ile being here.
After dinner, the head of the CRG came to visit me.
“Mr. Azur, I know you have questions about this arrangement,” he said as he sat down at the table. “But I’m only allowed to say that you will be held indefinitely until your family decides to release you.”
“Indefinitely! Who decided that?”
“Mr. Azur, you are being accused of spreading false information to our citizens. And that is considered a crime. However, you belong to the first family of the city and can’t be punished like someone else under the circumstances.”
“A crime!” I said and rose from the table. “I’m considered a criminal for speaking words? Who authorized this arrangement?”
The head guard rose from the table and stood in his official position. His hands were by his side and his posture straight as a line.
“You can relax,” I said and sat back down.
He complied. “Your mother, Olivia, has made this accusation against you. She believed you were going to spread information about the city’s history that was untrue.”
“My mother!”
He nodded and continued. “We will make sure you have the best living arrangements for as long as you are here.”
He left. I couldn’t believe Mother would have me arrested and brought here. Why was she so passionate about keeping this alternate history from being revealed to our citizens?
I WAS TREATED WELL in the holding cell for the past three days. The bed was quite comfortable for sleeping, and I had three meals each day. The guardsmen were pleasant under the circumstances. However, none of that helped the fact that Mother had placed me here.
I was told that Mother was coming to visit today. My emotions ranged from anger to sadness in anticipation of her visit. What kind of explanation would she give me for my predicament? I didn’t want to see her, and I thought about asking the head guard not to allow her into this cell.
I heard the doorknob turn, and Mother entering the cell. Her face was swollen from tears and had a horrified look. It didn’t comfort me.