by Lynn Moon
“Very interesting retrospect,” Professor Graysonian says, standing in front of our table.
Why always our table?
“And Takoda, what did you learn?”
With a glance at me, Takoda replies, “Sir, I learned to never underestimate anyone. I discovered hidden deep inside each of us is a secret person we never share. And it is not until the right situation presents itself, our hidden self emerges. We never know when, but when we least expect it, we will meet and have to deal with that hidden person.”
Professor Graysonian stands silently for a few moments. “You must have given this some thought. I will definitely enjoy reading your reports.” The rest of class passes quickly as we hear everyone’s experiences. I never knew there were so many different places to explore. It was interesting.
• • •
Our fathers meet us at the train and they don’t look happy. The school officials must have informed them of our altercation with Anneeta and her friends.
“I’m fine, Dad, really,” I argue as he fusses over me.
“Why would this girl attack you?” Dad asks, glaring at Takoda.
“She’s jealous,” I say, hoping to draw attention away from Takoda.
“She was to be unioned with Takoda,” Fretoda adds.
“I see,” my father states.
“We did nothing to her,” Takoda repeats, defending us. “They were waiting for us when we arrived. There was nothing we could do.”
“You are fine so I guess no real harm done,” Dad says, putting his arm around my shoulder. “Looks like the medical team patched you up pretty good. There shouldn’t even be a scar.”
“She threatened us, Father.” It clearly is still bothering Takoda.
Fretoda sighs and glances over at my father for support.
“I’ll take care of it,” Dad says as he hugs me in closer. “Takoda did break off their relationship before my daughter arrived here, yes?”
“We never had a relationship,” Takoda snaps. “The girl is crazy. Union with her would have been suicide.”
“I’ll agree with that,” I agree. “She could use a good counselor, for sure.”
“It’s a major dishonor for her family if they do not union. It was agreed upon by our families and the oracles. But I want my son to be happy. I would never force him to be with someone he didn’t love.” Fretoda winks at me.
“Thank you, Father,” Takoda says. “Can we leave now?”
“Certainly,” Fretoda replies. It shows he loves his son and he’s proud of him.
Fretoda gives me a kiss goodbye. I know he approves of us. His acceptance makes me feel a little better. But I’m still worried about Anneeta.
“Dad?” I ask, on the way home. “How much trouble could Anneeta cause for us?”
“If she can persuade the authorities your relationship with Takoda is more than friends, you could be charged. But Abeytu and I will make sure that does not happen.”
“Great,” I say, wondering what the jail outfits look like here. I hope they aren’t striped.
Abeytu’s ugly yellow truck is in our driveway when we return; someone had to stay with Makayah. But another car, a black shiny one with a colorful emblem on the door, is parked next to the truck. A driver sits patiently inside.
“Who’s here?” I ask.
“Oh my.” His expression is strained.
“Dad? Could she have put in a complaint that fast?”
Dad shakes his head. After everything that’s happened, I don’t feel like diving head first into more trouble.
Abeytu meets us and speaks to my father. I can’t hear what he’s saying but he points to the lake. She’s standing by the water’s edge admiring the moon and the reflection on the water. I recognize her immediately. Not knowing what I’m going to say or do, I walk slowly. I need time to gather my thoughts. No one follows me. I guess I’m alone on this one. After all, I did demand to meet her.
She turns and I’m shocked, her face is so familiar. The way she stands, the way she holds her hands. I remember her. Memories flood back and tears fall. She walks toward me but I hold out my hand. I need her to stay right where she is and not move.
“I remember dolls, little dolls in boxes,” I cry between tears. “They had different colored hair. No two were alike.”
Tears form in her eyes, and she grabs her stomach.
“I remember late night movies in front of a TV with lots of blankets. I remember cookies and milk. I spilled the milk. I thought you would be mad, but you got a towel and never said a word. We pulled a blanket from my bed and cuddled on the floor.”
“Baby.”
Again I hold out my hand. “I remember listening to your belly. You said it was my little sister. I remember singing to her.”
I hesitate for a moment trying to remember the song, but she sings it for me instead. “There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile…” I remember her smell and touch.
“He found a crooked sixpence,” I continue, “upon a crooked stile.”
Chawlya takes a couple of steps. “He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse.”
“And they all lived together in a little crooked house,” I finish. “I remember.”
Everything is coming together and the bad memories hit me. Standing next to Aunt Rachael and holding her hand while watching my mom and dad drive away. The deep pain. I felt alone, lost.
“You said you’d come back for us!” I yell. “You said you would come back but you never did. You never did!”
“Baby,” she cries, reaching for me.
I want to run away, but I also can’t leave. I remember the deep love I had for her. How could she do this to us? Why did she do this to me?
“I have one question,” I yell.
“Okay,” she replies, taking a few more steps toward me.
“Why?”
“Journey, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re not sorry or you would have come back for us! You left us there. Thousands, millions of miles away—with a stranger! What kind of a mother would do that? Can you explain that to me?”
“Please, let me talk.”
“I’ve been here how long, and I’m the one that had to ask for you to come see me!” I scream. “Did you even ask about me? How I was doing? What did I look like? Did you even care?”
“Oh I care,” she cries. “I care more than you’ll ever imagine.”
She hands me a tablet, I scroll through the pictures. They’re all of me, hundreds of pictures, every one different.
“I have another set of Makayah. Without these, I never could have gone on,” she says, crying. “Without those pictures I would have died, Journey. I also have videos so I can hear your voice. You’ve grown up better than I ever could have imagined. I am so proud of you and Makayah. You are both so beautiful. Look, I can show you…”
I can’t stand any more. The tablet falls from my hand and I turn, ready to run. But Takoda’s standing there holding my little sister’s hand. She looks confused and scared.
“Journey?” Makayah asks. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”
“That, Makayah, is our mother,” I say, kneeling to hug her.
“Our mother died, Journey. Remember?” she says. Tears fill her eyes.
“Our adoptive mother died, baby,” I explain. “This is the woman who gave birth to us. This is the woman who married our father. But this is not the woman who raised us, who gave us love and guidance, who kissed away our tears. This person is a stranger to us, Makayah.”
“Girls, please,” Chawlya begs.
I glance at Takoda. He looks at Chawlya. “May I have a few minutes with Makayah and Journey? Please don’t leave, just give me a few minutes.”
She nods and my father escorts her to the cabin. He hugs her and the love he displays for her startles me.
“Girls, come sit for a minute,” Takoda asks. “Please.”
We sit on a log our father pulled from the forest. I’m crying and shakin
g, and Makayah has tears in her eyes. She’s confused and so am I.
“Let me just say a few words, then if you still want to hate her, I’ll understand,” Takoda says, watching us. We nod and he continues. “It’s different here. Our world is guided by the Elders. They are our government; they are the law. They have so much power, if they decide you are to die, you die. They determine where you live and what you will become. When a person breaks the law, they take a chance of losing everything.
“Chawlya did nothing wrong but be born a child of a mixed union. Chawlya’s mother is from here, and her father is from Journey. He is Swetaachata just like me. His color is not vibrant like mine because he was born here. He too started Kupatanna early and Lylillea, your grandmother, was there to help him through it. The same as you did for me, Journey. They bonded. They were marked, as we are marked. Their destiny was written for them, just as ours has been written for us.”
My stomach hurts, but my love for Takoda keeps me calm. I listen even though I don’t want to.
“Chawlya,” he continues, “knew she should never have children and if she did, she would be punished and the children put to death. But she loved your father so much she didn’t have the strength to terminate the pregnancy—you, Journey. After you were born, she didn’t want you to be alone, so they tried for another. But the difference in us made it difficult, and several years passed before Makayah was born.”
Takoda places his fingers over my mouth to silence me.
“I did some research today and discovered the law is definite. She had no choice but to take her place on the Council. Just as someday, you will take your place. If she refused, they would have come for her, and imagine a craft as large as the one you saw the other day suddenly showing up over North Carolina or Colorado? What would have happened?”
I’m sure my eyes are swollen from crying, but I nod, I understand. “The military would try to bring it down.”
“Yes, and we would have been at war, and we are far more advanced than Earth. No one would have had a chance. You would have been put to death the moment you returned.”
“But won’t we still be killed?” I ask.
“Once you reach the age of understanding, and can come to conclusions, your souls are complete. A complete soul is considered sacred. Once a mixed child reaches the age of about ten Earth years, the Council will not touch them. It’s a law put in place by the original captain. Her name was Gaia and she was known for her caring and understanding. Even when people broke the laws, she realized there were reasons why, and sometimes those reasons are more powerful than the laws themselves. Journey, you must understand, if Chawlya did not return home when she did, Earth would have been destroyed. Would you allow another planet to be destroyed because of what you do?”
I shake my head.
“Then how could you expect her to? And if she brought you back with her, you would have been killed. What would you do to save our babies?”
I suddenly understand why she did what she did. “I would have done the same thing. I need to talk to her.”
“I’m here, baby.” I feel her hand touch my shoulder.
When I look up, I’m staring into my mother’s swollen eyes. I grab her and hug her harder than I’ve ever hugged anyone. I bury my face deeply into her thick hair.
“Mommy,” I cry. “Mommy, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know,” she cries. “I’ve missed you too.”
Makayah sits there and stares at us. She really doesn’t understand any of this, but my father holds her close.
“Everything will be okay, Makayah. I’ll explain everything to you,” he says, gently. “But I’d like you to meet your mother, your real mother. The woman I love, the woman I married.”
“Hello,” Makayah says in a very meek voice.
Her hello is enough to break the tension, and we all laugh. My mother can’t take her hands off me. She keeps touching my face, my hands, my back. I’m hers and she isn’t going to let me go again.
23
DECISIONS
BETWEEN CLASSES and getting to know my mother, my life is pretty hectic. We spend many hours talking, and the final month of classes is a complete blur. Everything is great, until my mother suggests we move to Traveler, so we can be together as a family.
I sit listening to George and Chawlya make plans, plans for where we would live, where we would go to school, and where we would vacation together as a family. Makayah is excited, but Abeytu just stands silently by the door and watches. I can’t take any more of this happy family reunion. I walk to the lake, and Abeytu is not far behind. He places his hand on my shoulder. We both admire the reflection off the water and the songs of the birds as they fly overhead. Neither of us speaks for some time, we just enjoy the moment together.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say.
“You’ll have to tell them,” Abeytu says, tossing a rock into the lake.
“Tell them what?” I ask, glancing at him.
“That you and Takoda shared Kupatanna while on Trial.” He says it so matter-of-factly I take a step back.
“How did you find out?”
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you two bonded,” he replies, with a grin. “He keeps showing up whenever you are upset or hurt. You don’t carry a phone on you, therefore there’s really no way for him to know. Unless…”
“Unless we’ve bonded,” I say. “Darn, I need to start keeping that phone with me!”
“You have to tell them, now. You can’t leave Takoda behind.”
“I know, but…”
“It’s personal, and you were not expecting it to happen?” he suggests. “Am I right.”
“You’re right,” I answer.
“Your parents are not stupid, Journey. Your mother’s parents, your grandparents, went through the same situation. Believe me when I say that they will understand.”
“But…”
“There is no reason your mother cannot come here to be with you,” he adds. “Besides, I do not want you to move away. So there is a little selfish motive here too.”
“I know you’re my uncle,” I add.
“You learned a lot on your Trials,” he replies, giving me a hug. “I hope you do not mind sharing my bloodline.”
“I don’t mind you being my uncle as long as when I’m ready to ask questions you’ll give me answers.”
“Not a problem.” He laughs. “I’ll answer any question you have. But for now, you have some news to give to your parents.”
“Great,” I reply, heading to the cabin.
Being only sixteen, it feels weird to tell my parents I’m sort of engaged. Or at least that’s how I feel. Things are definitely not turning out the way I’d expected. In fact, things are getting more complicated every second. The secluded little village Takoda and I stumbled on during our Trial seemed like a nice place to be right about now. But when I run away, I’m the one that gets hurt, and I don’t think my body can take much more. When Takoda and I are alone, everything seems so natural, so perfect. Add other people and everything gets all jumbled.
“Excuse me, you two,” Abeytu says, entering the cabin. “Journey needs to tell you something, least before you finalize your plans.”
“Oh?” George says, staring at me.
Abeytu laughs a little. “You may want to sit down.”
“Oh no,” Chawlya states with a sorry expression.
“I’m not pregnant!” I yell. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You bonded with Takoda,” George blurts out shocking me to no end. I nod.
“Well, that does change things somewhat,” my mother says, sitting on the couch.
“Come and sit, Journey,” My uncle suggests.
I sit on a kitchen stool, keeping my distance. Makayah comes running in and screeches to a sudden stop.
“Okay, now what?” she asks. “I don’t like these looks you get. It means there’s something going on no one has told me about—and it’s alwa
ys bad news.”
“How about if you and I go into town,” Abeytu asks her.
“Yep, something’s definitely going on,” Makayah states, firmly crossing her arms. “Okay, I’ll go, but you’ve got to tell me everything. Deal?”
“Deal,” he agrees, as they leave together.
Now I really feel stupid and embarrassed. I wonder if girls my age feel this way when they tell their parents they’re pregnant. It’s almost the same thing, right? Only this problem can get one of us arrested. This oh-so-not-good.
“Look, it’s not the end of the world,” my mother states. “We’ll just have to change our plans a little, that’s all.”
My dad stands behind her placing his hands on her shoulders. He doesn’t look so good right now.
“I’m so sorry,” I say meaning every word. “If I ever…”
“Journey, don’t apologize,” my mother adds jumping from the couch and startling my father. “My mother had no control over her love for my father. Even though her life was tough, she would never change any of it.”
“Not even the prison time?” I ask.
“Well, maybe that part, but believe me when I tell you she never regretted loving my father or having me.”
The phone rings and startles us.
“That will be Takoda,” I announce.
“He knows you’re upset,” my mother says, with a little laugh.
She hugs and kisses me on the cheek as I talk to Takoda. I tell him everything and he says he is coming over. When he arrives, he has his father and little sister with him.
“We need to discuss what to do next,” my mother says, trying to control the situation. “I understand what happens after Kupatanna. I know we cannot separate them for very long. They could become ill, some have been known to die. It is serious. They get their strength and health from being together. For some reason when Kupatanna is not between two Swetaachata, the chemistry is stronger, and much more dangerous. There’s so much we do not understand about it.”
“They’re too young to union,” Fretoda states.
“No marriage…no union…or whatever you want to call it.” I stammer, surprising even myself. “I’m too young for all of this.”
