by Parris Match
The brothers listened intently, beguiled with Dacoh’s opus-tale; the surrounding unheard dry rustle of autumns amber leaves, be the only choric muted sounds, or the soft tones of tenor, to complement; in this theatre’s embracing hollow. Tah sat hushed and unmoving in the neglected and diffused shadows of the little wickerup, seeking not to be seen, anxious that she would interrupt, if she stirred from her necessary hunger or natures summons.
“Concealed in the cold… thick milky and vulgar ground mist, sidling ever closer to the available mound of treasure, alert peering eyes or insect antennae eagerly searching, both each sound and every tremor. The auspicious Spirits, with utmost certainty, were on my side. Trembling with heated anticipation, the beat of my quickened heart and the stolen touch, my hands felt the very generous girth of the golden prize. An illuminated shiny plump ample treat, cream-engorged like a suckling’s lunar udder, clearly displayed from the moon’s fixed gaze. Twisting and SNAPPING the tethers of my trophy, precautious quick theft, not to upset the vibratory petitions of the black tattlers last serenade; harsh droning buzzzzzz, of the nights chattering gossips, heedful disruptions took nary a notice. Lifting and smugly hugging this incursions reward, softly tiptoeing from the corpulent filthy-swine’s larder. Scampering down the evident lit pathway; stealing-away, with my well-deserved coup. Racing ever so frantically, shunning the mute hoary bushes, to evade the sudden clutches from this wily malicious foe. By distance into the dark, relieved me from any perceptible pursuit, cold tense sweats before a grateful sigh; gleefully dashing and dodging with my coveted treasure; a splendid magnificent huge golden pumpkin”.
Hesitation and silence followed;
Then the seated brotherhood broke into delighted laughter, realizing Dacoh had tricked them up the winding and twisted rising pathway, alongside the towering mountain, leading them to a much desired cool lake in a deeply hidden highest glade, cleverly coaxing them around each imaginary curve in the selective direction taken, and then back again to their passive settled positions.
Tah, from her concealed vantage, was pleasured with the attentive response that her suitable man was receiving from his companions; ardent popular admiration was a potent stimulant. The silver-tongued lyric crooner softly plucks the strings of a flourishing harp; for it is not the substance, but the internal sense of harmony and rhythm, that firstly moves the neutral soul.
The brothers made their leave, after hooting-ly applauding Dacoh on his entertaining story, unnecessarily promising that they would return on the following morning with more fresh provisions.
Dacoh entered the lodge with the supplies, to include griddled and rolled flat bread, saw that the scrunched diffident girl needed her privacy, and motioned her, with a sweep of his hand and by holding the curtained flap, to leave the hut at her bidding. The necessary absence of the fawn passed very slowly, each fallen golden leaf and splintered airborne particle from the denuding trees, was definitely heard; Dacoh would not eat until his fawn returned; who was being tested, who was the master, and who was the pawn, them that go, or them that wait. In a lapse of time, Tah’s welcomed silhouette appeared in the doorway, and they sat and ate their simple cornmeal morning sustenance in their uncomfortable shadowy silence.
Afterward; to be seated separately, outside the tightly woven wickerup, under the random colorful fall of this calmed season, within the open courtyard; withdrawn beneath the indirect sparkly Sun-glints of the mornings shifting light. The erratic snapping thin whirligigs, impish amber-lucent winged faeries, twirl at chance with slow spirally descending ocher leaves, the only movement in time. Dacoh and Tah warily looked upon one another, seeking alike cagily, with subtle furtive glances, quickly exchanged across lonely space, never quite sure of their blush tint or muted nuance.
The loneliness of the silent earlier morning slipped away, empty time, vacant place, frozen in the static vacuous moment… … ; Dacoh arose from his solitary state, awkwardly crossed-over to his singular heart’s desire, and held out his cupped open correct hand, for her kind acceptance. Tah, coyly glancing up, then gently placing her proper hand within his, followed by an undeniable, delicate, almost imperceptible caress; Tah looking squarely into Dacoh’s arresting eyes, downy contracting petals blushed, and the avowing maiden softly smiling, willingly acknowledged her own surrender.
Retiring to within the closed enfolding woven cover of the somewhat shaded wickerup; made exposed, effervescent scented, intertwined naked forms bending in heady consideration; nuzzling and cuddling in the midst of the soft comforting pod of the furry pelts. Heated pungent feral passions, to feed the flames of the Spirit’s design; eager skin pressing, the thinnest opaque veil of divisive privacy still in place. With the noticeable first split effects of violence and pain, Dacoh zealously arose and forcefully planted the cherished seed of the enduring generation of his people. Tah, with swallowed pride, delirious frenzies drawn, guiding touch of open acceptance, and of the narrows slight complaint; readily provided a warm sweet budding embrace, begging for natures longedfor purpose, that this maternal instinct would eagerly and earnestly contract and fulfill.
Passions impulsive joyful repetition, this second unity of blithe laughter filled the remote little hollow; satisfied low moans / high echoes of pleasure; the giggles and titters of the playful tussling otters, were the only sounds heard in this private world. Held tightly, within each other’s arms and limbs, peaceful sated sleep ensued; while cheerful yellow-orange, ochereous, and shiny red-amber, swirling upward rising leaves; and the Sunshine glimmer glitters through the upper boughs, to transmit the timeless sacred blessing of the most high Spirit. Lively essential elements passing on the earthly good tidings; the Spirit’s law of fusion begets fission. Rustling lighter Spirits fleetingly aspiraling, joyously whirling, and gracefully dancing in the wickerups airy hollow; marking this advantageous wonderful celebration of blended glorious coloration that the divine events of springtime will come again.
Awakening through the pleasant sleepy haze of ardor’s trance, Dacoh began to comprehend woman’s innate power; soft smooth moistened skin, delicate tender child’s breaths, piqued upturned breasts yet again etched on his mind, nipped billows soothing comfort; fragrant throaty scented warmth, legs union clasped gently; nectar’s sweet promise within the flowers narrow passage; the vigorous pulsating return of passion’s heated staff. Tah dreamily awoke, pleasure was in her offering; gift-ly placing her hand to the back of her master’s appreciative suckling head, pressing/ kneading his phallic bounded-braid, pleased with his urgent hot searing need, and obvious sugary gratification. Inhibition certainly had no place; quickly mounting the little fawn, Dacoh forcefully assured the circumstance of his intense deep desire, and of his complete considerate dominion. Tah, willingly tamed, openly acquiesced; purring, softly purring, languorously quivering, harmonizing-ly breathing-out with a near quiet sigh; satisfied with her chosen natural role, in the grand exalted composition of the Spirit’s symphonic creation.
At the crisp first light of a new day, invigorating season’s fall, dewdrops on the stem and petals, sparkling yellow/orange/amber and ruby gemstones appearance, clear brilliant azure skies persist; mauve-rust shadowed cleavage, insightful light reveals the aged lines and wrinkles, of the dominating, coppery reddish-brown cliff ’s façade. Reflective soundless peaceful morning mood of the looming, over-towering, three crystal-crowned mountain peaks.
A lone all seeing airborne spectator, seemingly floating lazily, but of strict purpose in their offing, exactly meandering hawk, slowly revolving flight. The tranquil stillness of the drowsy breeze, the smells of sweet yet musty dried-grass / mild acrid pitch / and the faint tinge of transitory smoke, all ignored in gratified bliss; and the highest culminal Spirit passed the decided meridian, of the, near to dormant, polluted little valley.
Dacoh and Tah awoke belatedly from their sated sleep; both dressing, additionally Dacoh adorning a thigh-length belted shirt; they, hand in hand, left the chambers precious leaf-carpeted clearing, walking towards the village
. Nearing the harvested fallow fields, skirting the furtive peeking discernment of the simply inquisitive people, Dacoh and Tah set out for the veiled pocketed glade of the melodic little waterfall.
They, the newly couple, being whistle proclaimed through the crowded whitish shafts of the aspen wood grove, the bathing women and children quickly vacated the water-pools cleansing recesses. Noticeably retreating, herding noisily, as a drove of bleating nannies and their unruly willful kids, amongst the crackling twigs and the thick soggy carpeting of fallen leaves, abandoning their restricted water glade. Shepherded rapidly along the abrupt wall of the lighted cliffs towards their village compound. The women knowing that Dacoh and his curious stranger must have their complete privacy, until she was properly integrated into their kind; of the family, the Forgotten Ones.
Seeing that his sentimental giddy sisters had not emptied the contaminated pond in their hasty retreat, Dacoh lifted the flat-stone gate and the tainted water gushed down the draining gully thru the sundrenched grassy meadows and lower leaching marshy wetland. Stripping his clothes away with a new found sensual enthusiasm, Dacoh stepped directly beneath the tumbling cold waterfall, briskly washing away any residue of uncertainty, joyfully re-invigorated with his new passion for life. This wondrous airy glade in the cliffs heart-full niche, set on the sure face of the great mystical stone mountain; the inviting music of the tinkling and burbling cascade of the crystal pure water fount, buoyant tussling whisks of fresh cool air; was the most beautiful ideal moment, place and situation, he could envision in his own mind’s eye.
Strutting from the waterfalls splashing field; sun-drenched and muscular, wet bronzed skin glistening, positively posed as a snorting rutting stag, Dacoh relinquished the Spirits’ initiation waters-font to his new found fidelity. Restorative life-giving sap, given both from existent joy and sadness, bestowed from the benevolent heart of the mountain Spirit. The clear pure cleansing saline-free tears, prior pollution longtime pressed from the deep subterranean dwellings of the ancient spirits, would again ensure the future of Dacoh’s people.
The liberated fawn nimbly cavorted within the waters fall, lithely, sinuously stretching in a solitary small plummeting stream, long black slackened hair whipping with wild abandon, childlike frolicking could not be unnoticed; reflected silvery silk butterflies, playfully kissed her tanned skin. Dacoh lolled on a tabled rock, slowly stroke-drying his wetted limbs, craving yet again the near innocent prancing fawn, held in a leering intense stare. Witnessing Dacoh’s firm desire, Tah mischievously bound to his fore, quickly straddled his lap, and wantonly swallowed his primeval pride; hugging, squeezing, milking, and draining her succulent prize, nature’s time honored purpose was soon received. Grasping and holding the procreators seed of The Forgotten Ones, prolific harmonious harvests promised in their future. Dacoh’s devoted breath and generous heart was captured forever.
Chilled quivering skin brought them back to the light of day, spent pleasured labors were gone, deliberate sweet latest embrace in hesitated separation; dressing themselves with veiled satiated eyes, hands in a clasp, in their intended seclusion, after closing the stone gate, they walked down the pathway together, back to their little sanctuary, in the secreted personal vale.
Nine bright days passed in open-hearted cloudless harmony, Dacoh and Tah united in a common bond, sharing their delivered sustenance, and joining together in a warm to ardent, flesh and blood, passionate melody. Social interaction was for the most part absent, gladness like beauty and colors must be openly shared; mute empty moments were soon mute inane episodes. The brothers regular morning visits did not suffice; low murmurs and echoes of familial voices, unshared cups of grace, conspicuous spirals of smoke against the lofty cliffs invited interruption, aloneness and mild disaffection seeped into the little grey hollow.
“Tell Ahcoo’ah, we will join the village on the next sunrise”, Dacoh informed the brothers.
“Aie”, Eeboh responded, “The fawn is fully tamed”? he asked.
“Aie”, Dacoh answered, followed by;
“I miss the field of togetherness and my people!”
Tah had shyly stayed out of view in the darkness of the lodge, not altogether comfortable with the brothers’ presence.
In the awakening of the new mornings’, very early sparkling frostiness, ground hugging dew-mist; Dacoh and his little fawn made their way towards the close fields and community of The Forgotten Ones. Still out of sight of the village, Dacoh dropped his hand from holding the feminine hand cupped in his, and motioned her to follow in his footsteps; for he could not allow himself to be faced with shame in front of his people. Upon entering the village compound, the people of Dacoh’s extensive family, looking-on in curious silence, watched as Dacoh’s mother Malee, and Eeboh’s woman Oocee, came effusively scuttling forward, in an overt chirpy profuse greeting. Ahcoo’ah had made it quite clear that the people of the village, without a hint of prejudice, would treat the new sister with utmost kindness and acceptance, showing not the slightest indication of disapproval or alienation.
“A little bluebird”, Malee declared, as she patted Tah on her shoulder.
“A beautiful little bird”, she repeated for Dacoh’s benefit. Tah was taken aback by the sudden attention; she recognized Malee from the stern posture that she had first seen her in, standing on the rock above her, not showing her a hint of hope or sympathy; but now she was smiling and friendly, liberally pawing at her; it was disconcerting, and embarrassed Tah.
“Aie”, “A beautiful little bird”, Oocee reaffirmed, smoothing back some hair from Tah’s bowed fretful face. Oocee was older but nearer the age to Tah; it was anticipated that it would be more suitable for her to relate to the new little sister.
Malee and Oocee, each gently to take an arm, guided Tah away from Dacoh towards the open cooking hut where the other women were busily preparing the mornings meal. Tah, flustered and frightened by the changing circumstance, pleadingly jerked her head-back towards her kind dacoh; there he stood, grinning and nodding encouragingly, an evident conspicuous twinkle in his eyes, clearly showing his amenable consent.
Women bustling about, preparing the thin flattened corncakes, cooking them on a huge heated rock-slab; together, by instructed concert, suspended their activity, to welcome Tah to the family.
“Dacoh’s little bird”, Malee introduced her as, for she did not have a name.
“Aie”, each woman softly said, as they lightly touched Tah on her un-sleeved wing.
Tah suffered to take flight; but… where.
Every woman of the village gathered in front of Tah, touching her, “Aie, Dacoh’s little bird”, “Aie, Dacoh’s little bird”.
“Aie, Dacoh’s little bird”, as they patted her.
Tah felt inundated and smothered by the blatant pawing attention, but no hurt took place; Malee and Oocee firmly planted at her sides.
The women of the village jovially returned to their preparation, while Malee, Oocee, and their caged little bird, stepped aside.
Malee, tenderly raising Tah’s head by her chin, and softly running her finger across her own lips; and then she lightly thumped her fingertips on her bosom, saying, “Malee”, and repeating, “Malee”.
Oocee, gently turned Tah in her direction, patting her own chest, repetitively said, “Oocee”, “Oocee”, “Oocee”.
Tah did not understand.
Malee pointed away, and Tah followed her aim, seeing her master, her handsome alluring man, standing in the distance, nearby; “Dacoh”, “Dacoh”, “Dacoh”, Malee repeated.
Tah, at this moment, understood.
Looking Malee in her face, Tah meekly said; “malee?”
“Aie”, Malee answered smiling and nodding, taking and petting Tah’s hand, and accepting her to her bosom.
Turning to Oocee, Tah questioningly inquired; “Oocee?”
“Aie”, she answered, smiling, nodding and patting Tah’s arm.
Tah knew; DACOH was not only what he was, but who he was.
Malee and Oocee led Tah back to where the women were gathered, obtained their food and sat to eat; squawking and chattering filled the air, twittering magpies attention visibly centered on the poked-at cageling. Tah’s flushed withdrawn unease showed quite apparent; Malee and Oocee huddled to their little plucked chick, wings aflutter in a sympathetic shield, brood’s protective clucking comfort given.
The tall thin weathered old man, acknowledged patriarch of The Forgotten Ones, shuffled into the common area; even Tah recognized the subtle reserved deference afforded him, as he moved amongst the people; on reaching a position nearest to Dacoh, placing a hand on his shoulder, Ahcoo’ah spoke;
“ We welcome our brother, Dacoh, having returned safely to the cultivated fields and caring family of The Forgotten Ones…We know of his bravery and his firm resolve in this daytime of our disorder … Harmony will return again to the kindred nature of the Forgotten Ones…. The melodious warble of the singing birds, the murmuring whispers of the friendly wind, the pleasing concert of the tumbling and burbling stream, the reassuring happy chirrups of children’s laughter, the harmonious and agreeable sounds of new life will persist… in this…, our beautiful valley…. The perpetual Spirit of the Sun, and the brother spirits of the Moon and the Stars, will continue to be present in the valley of The Forgotten Ones…. Aie…; We will seek the perfect season, those enduring prolific flowered fields, the bright and colorful blossoms, of our tomorrows”.
Upon finishing his tribute to Dacoh, one of the women provided Ahcoo’ah some food and he retired, out of view, behind a men’s lodge; within earshot, Ahcoo’ah sat to eat, in his thumb-less difficulty. Ahcoo’ah, The Storyteller; sage, a prophet, their guide, the chosen chief of The Forgotten Ones, was neither their ruler nor their despot, yet he knew his constant immediate presence inhibited the free will of the people, so he took his sustenance alone.