by M L Bellante
All four boys began to wail and begged his forgiveness. The oldest boy spoke for the others and pleaded, “Tahso, please forgive us!”
The shaman stared menacingly at the boys and finally said, “You must go now and be good. I will take you next time.” The kids scrambled away as quickly as their feet could carry them.
Tzeechoe began chuckling to himself. Then he broke into a full belly laugh. “Tondo, you are very funny.”
“What’s going on here?” the shaman asked Tzeechoe.
“The boys gave Tondo some fruit and he said, ‘I want to kiss your behind.’ I think he meant to say, thank you, but he didn’t say it right. Can you help him anymore?”
“I have done all I can. The rest is up to him,” the shaman said.
Coleman became lost in thought. Is that why those little urchins have been bringing me gifts all day? he said to himself. He then thought of Tzeecha’s shocked expression when he thanked her for his new clothes. He then hung his head in shame. No wonder Atura called me todo, he thought. “Tzeechoe, what do todo mean?”
The shaman answered instead, “Todo was a boy who lived in this village a long time ago. He wouldn’t listen to his elders’ advice. He’d always do things his way, no matter what. He never listened and he never learned.”
“Is he still here?” Coleman asked.
“One day, he wandered out of the village alone and was eaten by a pack of betzoes.”
“That bad! Did not anyone watch him?” Coleman wondered.
“Why? It’s not anyone’s duty to watch him. He should have watched himself.”
“That bad,” Coleman grumbled again in his limited vocabulary.
The shaman just looked at him and shook his head. “Now, the People say todo about anyone who won’t listen and learn. Why do you ask about Todo?”
“Atura call me todo. Now, I know why. She think I stupid.”
“Stoo-peed. Hmm, so she still calls you todo?” the shaman asked. Coleman nodded. “Then you must beat her.”
“Beat her? You say, I hit her?” he asked as he pounded a fist into an open palm?
“She is your woman and you can do with her as you wish. The chief decreed it and so it is.”
“What! The chief gave me Atura. What that mean?”
“Her father crossed-over recently. The chief waited to see if a man would take her into his family. No man wanted Atura, so there was no man to care for her. Now, you care for her. The chief is very wise.”
“I cannot care for myself. How can I care for Atura?”
The shaman turned to Tzeechoe. “Tzeechoe, teach Tondo how to care for himself and Atura. If he doesn’t learn, he will be sent away to die in the trees, and Atura will die, too.”
Coleman rolled his eyes and hung his head in disbelief as his mind raced. What am I going to do now? These people want me to stay, and the chief has trapped me with Atura’s life, he thought. “You say Atura die? Why she die?” he asked.
“A woman must be protected and cared for by a man; a father, a brother, a mate, a man of her family. If she has no man, she will be banished from the village and die in the trees. The chief thinks Batru sent you here to save Atura,” the shaman explained.
“Batru?” Coleman wondered.
“The great god,” the shaman told him.
Coleman groaned under this revelation. “Do she know this?” Coleman wondered.
“Yes, of course, she knows.”
“Why she hate me if I save her from dead?”
“Atura is very difficult. That is why she doesn’t have a man. Now, she is yours. The chief is very wise,” the shaman said with a toothy and repulsive smile.
“Oh, no! How do I get out of this mess?” Coleman lamented. The shaman and Tzeechoe watched as Coleman slumped to the log and then jumped to his feet as a sliver poked a bare spot on his butt. He rubbed his wound and held up an inch-long splinter for the other two men to see. “Now, that says it all,” he uttered in English. The two villagers looked at each other with confused but mirthful expressions.
The shaman turned and walked away and Tzeechoe resumed working on his basket. After checking the log for other sharp objects, Coleman gingerly sat, feeling as though a heavy weight was descending upon him. After a few minutes of brooding, Coleman asked, “Tzeechoe, anyone see white man like me before?”
“No, not like you. I have heard legends that the Anterrans are white. Are you Anterran?”
“No. Who Anterrans? Do they have big village?”
“The legend says Anterrans are very powerful. No one really knows if the legend is true.”
“Do they have big village?” Coleman asked in a pleading voice.
“I don’t know,” was the shaman’s reply.
“I need to visit the Anterrans. Can you take me there?”
“Tondo, you are crazy. The legend says Anterrans live a long, long way away. It would be a very dangerous journey.”
“I need to go there so I can talk to my people. I have to tell them I live. I want go home.”
“What will you do with Atura? Will you take her with you?”
“That very big problem for me. My home very different and Atura will not be happy there.”
Tzeechoe laughed and said, “Atura is not happy here. Maybe she’ll like your home better.”
“I do not think Atura wants to live in the same lodge with me.”
“How did you get lost? Why are you here?”
“My mission took wrong turn and I got here, not the Moon.”
“Mish-on? Munna?”
“Oh man, how can I explain this to you? I go to Moon and got here.”
“Munna?”
“Yeah, big ball in night sky.” Tzeechoe looked at Coleman, smiled, and shook his head. “Yes, I know. Tondo very funny,” Coleman said, reading Tzeechoe’s thoughts. “Tzeechoe, I heard one of the boys call the witch doctor Tahso. Is that his name?” Tzeechoe looked at Coleman as he tried to figure out the meaning of his question.
After a short pause, he said, “All men like him are tahso and have the name Tahso.”
“Are there any other tahso?”
“He is the only one in our village. I’ve been told there are men like him in other villages. They are very powerful.”
“How they powerful?”
“I don’t know about the others, but our tahso can heal the sick, make it easier for us to learn, help us when we hunt, and he can control fire.”
“Control fire? How he do that?”
“He uses tah.”
“What tah?”
“It is the power he has in here,” Tzeechoe said as he tapped Coleman’s chest.
Coleman was skeptical of this tribal superstition, but his thoughts turned to the worst days of his illness. Each time he was on the brink of death, the tahso seemed to pull him back. The others also thought that this tahso appeared to have something to do with his ability to learn the language. And he recalled how the shaman had seemingly lit a fire by magic. Coleman sat contemplating what he had been told and his recent experiences.
The two men sat silently as dusk slowly crept over the village. The clouds began to part and for the first time since his arrival, Coleman could see large patches of blue sky. His gloomy mood began to lift. He saw the reddish disk of the sun.
“What that?” Coleman asked, pointing at the setting sun.
“P´atezas, the mother of life,” Tzeechoe told him.
“P´atezas?”
Tzeechoe nodded and looked up from his work and scanned the sky. “Clouds go away. We will see many stars tonight and maybe munnas.”
Just then, a shout was heard near the entrance of the village as the day’s hunting party stepped into the clearing. A throng of villagers gathered to greet the hunters and to examine their efforts. Tzeechoe and Coleman were hungry and hoped for a good evening meal. From a distance, it looked like the hunters had something hanging from the poles they were carrying. As they approached, it became apparent that they had taken several monkeys.
Coleman didn’t care; he was ready to eat anything. Now that the worst of his illness had passed, he was famished and he craved meat.
Coleman watched as the women gathered in the center of the village. The central fire was stoked; the meat was prepared and roasted over open coals. In about an hour, the tahso stepped forth, cut off a large piece of meat and held it to the heavens. He uttered a few words that Coleman couldn’t clearly decipher other than Batru and Munnari. He then laid the meat on the fire as a sacrifice. The women took turns getting their fair share of the remaining cooked meat. Soon, Tzeecha and Atura took their turns and brought the meat to their men. Tzeechoe frowned, grabbed a large piece, and started eating. Coleman took another large piece, making certain there was enough remaining for the two women. The smell of the cooked meat made Coleman’s mouth water and he took a bite. After a few chews, he could tell it was tough, stringy, and greasy. He chewed and chewed as if he were chewing on gristle. He finally swallowed and felt it slowly slide down his throat.
“This not best meat I eat, but it better than snail I eat for survival training,” he said using English terms.
Tzeechoe continued chewing on his portion. The women looked at Coleman with befuddled expressions. “When I was a boy, there were no monkeys. Now, they are everywhere. No one knows where they came from,” Tzeechoe explained. He grunted and pointed to the remaining morsels. That was the women’s cue to take their turns. The four of them sat near the door of the lodge eating as the clouds separated and patches of stars could be seen.
Coleman scoured the heavens but couldn’t get a clear view of the constellations. Maybe later tonight I’ll get a good look at the night sky and find out if I’m in the northern or southern hemisphere.
When all four had finished eating, the women began preparing the bedding for the night. Coleman soon discovered that the meat did not agree with him and he had to make a quick dash to the latrine. Tzeechoe followed him and waited. As the men returned to the lodge, Coleman said, “Monkey meat not like me.”
“Tondo, you were very sick. Your insides may not like meat for a while.”
When the men entered the home, they found the women singing. Coleman found the tune uplifting and joyful. He didn’t understand most of the words, but he thought it was a story of young love. The men sat and listened for a few minutes, then Tzeechoe joined in the singing. After a while, Coleman picked up the chorus line and sang, as well. When the song ended, Coleman leaned back on his elbows. “My good friends, thank you for helping me.” Tzeechoe and Tzeecha began chuckling quietly.
Atura scowled and said, “Todo!”
“I guess I did it again. I sorry. Is there another way to say ‘thank you’?” Tzeechoe’s and Tzeecha’s chuckles turned into roars of laughter. Even Atura cracked a smile and began laughing, as well.
A conversation soon began between Tzeecha and Tzeechoe. She was asking about the upcoming hunt. From what Coleman could understand, it appeared Tzeechoe’s hunting team would soon have their turn and the responsibility of bringing food to the village. Tzeechoe told her that Tondo would be going with them by order of the tahso. He had two days to prepare Tondo for the hunt. That was not enough time to teach him how to use the spear—the atlatl—nor the bolo, but he could teach Tondo how to make and use a club and a knife.
“That is good. I want go,” Coleman told the group excitedly.
“It is very dangerous to leave the village. Some men have died on the hunt,” Tzeecha warned.
Coleman thought back to his encounter with the gorga. A shudder ran down his spine as he visualized the slashing teeth and claws of the beast. The nasty scar the monster carried across its snout was seared into Coleman’s memory. He absentmindedly rubbed his thigh. He meekly uttered, “Gorga.”
Tzeecha nodded and said, “Yes, the gorga has taken many hunters. You are the only one who has ever survived its attack. The gods favor you, Tondo. I think you will keep Tzeechoe safe.” Tzeechoe bowed his head, either in agreement or shame, Coleman couldn’t tell.
“Do all your people grow hair on their faces?” Atura asked.
“Most men do. There are a few who do not.”
“Do the women grow hair on their faces, too?”
Coleman smiled, “No, most do not. There are a few who do.”
Atura looked at Tzeecha and Tzeechoe, “Are all the people white like you?”
“No, some are black, some are brown.”
“Will the hair on your face grow more?” Atura asked.
“Oh, yes. If I not shave, I mean cut it, my beard get very long,” as he drew his hand across his waist.
Atura frowned, “You already look like a wild beast.”
“Okay, I cut face hair tomorrow, if that make you happy. I need something sharp.” Tzeechoe rummaged around the lodge and found an obsidian stone. It looked like the tool the women had used in the fashioning of his loincloth earlier in the day. Coleman took the stone and drew a finger across its blade. “Very sharp; I use in morning.” Coleman then asked, “Atura, do not anyone have blue eyes like me?”
“No, no one has ever seen blue eyes before. They are the color of Munnari.”
“So, Munnari the blue sky?” Coleman questioned.
“No, Munnari is the blue munna; the good munna.”
“I do not understand. Do munna mean moon?”
“Come here; I’ll show you,” Atura said in a commanding voice. She then stepped through the doorway with Coleman following.
He scanned the night sky. It was a beautiful, clear night, with a multitude of stars shining in the heavens; so many were there, he had difficulty getting his bearings. As he scanned the sky from horizon to horizon, he was amazed at the vast number of stars. It was as though the Milky Way covered the entire night sky. He was searching for Polaris, the North Star, or at least the Big Dipper, but he couldn’t locate either. He glanced over at the first quarter moon hanging just above the trees, near where the sun had set in the west. As he stared at the silvery moon, he noticed something odd about its appearance. The whiff of a cloud faintly obscured the view, but the moon’s markings didn’t seem quite right. As he watched the cloud pass, he heard Atura’s call.
“Over here; Munnari is over here,” she called.
“What? The munna is right here, just above the trees.”
“Come here!” she ordered gruffly.
Coleman reluctantly moved to the other side of the lodge and found, to his utter surprise and amazement, a huge first quarter blue moon hanging just above the trees in the east. Coleman stopped in his tracks in stunned silence. He retraced his steps and looked up at the silvery white moon he had been watching and then back to the blue moon. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His mind raced. Could this be another hallucination? Was he dreaming? He pinched himself and felt the pain. He stared into the night sky and noticed a first quarter reddish-orange disk rising above the trees near the blue moon. He looked back at the silver moon and realized it was rising above the tree line, not dropping behind it. It was moving in retrograde, west to east.
“Wait! This isn’t Earth? I’m on a different planet? Where have they sent me?” he cried in English as he dropped to his knees, his mind vacant with shock. He felt Atura’s hands on his shoulders and he opened his eyes. He found himself staring into her face.
“What’s the matter? Why are you so upset? I don’t understand,” she asked in a concerned voice.
Coleman could only shake his head slowly back and forth. Something had gone dreadfully wrong when he was ripped. He was expecting to ride the ripple to Tranquility’s He-3 Base on Earth’s moon, but instead, he had been sent by a dimensional shift to another world. He didn’t know if he was in the same galaxy or even the same universe anymore. For all he knew, he was in an entirely different dimension of time and space. The ramifications of this thought crashed over him like a wave.
“What’s the matter?” he heard Atura plead.
Atura glared back at him as her expression changed from worry to anger, “No, you’re todo! What’s the matter with you? You’re crazy!” she scolded as she arose and stomped back into the lodge. Soon, Tzeechoe came out and found Coleman still on his knees, scanning the night sky, looking from one moon to another.
Tzeechoe grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “What’s the matter with you? Atura said you went crazy.”
“Tzeechoe, in my world there is only one munna, but there are three here. Do you know what this means? It means I can never go home. I am stuck here until I die.”
“Oh, is that all? Go to bed. Things are always better in the morning.”
“Not this time,” Coleman sadly grumbled.
He returned to the lodge, plopped down on his bedding, and stared at the hole in the roof, his mind reviewing all he had seen and done since the time he entered the rip chamber at the Houston plant.
After a while, his thoughts changed from the mechanics of the rip to his home. He had thought little of his mother and father, his ex-girlfriend, Megan Klosky, and his other friends since he’d arrived here. He felt it would just be a matter of time before he returned to them. Now, with this new revelation, he began to miss them all. It was probable he would never see any of them again. He was sure the rip team would attempt to figure out what happened to him, but it was doubtful they would be able to do anything about it. Inanimate objects had disappeared during rips in the past and so had some monkeys. The rip team tried to figure out what went wrong in an effort to correct the problem, but never did they ever locate the lost objects, let alone recover one.
He felt a tear escape the corner of his eye and slide down the side of his face, but he quickly wiped it away. He couldn’t think about this right now. Maybe he would be clearer in the morning. “Tomorrow is a new day and a new life,” he voiced aloud in English.
From the darkness of the lodge, he heard Atura spout, “Todo!”
