by Leeda Vada
“It’s okay, neto,” she said, turning to face him. She clasped his hands and guided him back to the bench. “You sit this time.”
She positioned herself to face him. “I need you to listen to me. Do not interrupt. What I am about to tell you will be difficult for me to say and even more difficult for you to hear, but I can no longer delay the telling. I’m sure you have heard of the conflict between warring tribes for dominance, secured by the acquisition of captive slaves and territory.”
Neo nodded.
She continued, “I am descended from the Sere tribe, which has its roots in Gambia. Our village was a small one, so we were all very close, one big extended family. Though we were near the coast, there were plenty of thick forests, so our people could roam and hunt freely. There were other tribes across the area, but we respected each other’s territory and kept our distance. As was bound to happen with the greedy nature of man, our idyllic state did not last. The truth of how the raids began has been lost over the centuries, but by the time I reached my maturity, they were rampant. One of the ancient raiding tribes carried the lupine Were gene. During the inevitable rapes that are part and parcel of such attacks, the Were gene took root and produced half-breed offspring infected with lupine DNA. As soon as these children were discovered, they were destroyed along with their mothers to maintain the purity and viability of our species. Eventually, word of what we were doing reached the lupine hierarchy. One of its most powerful Alphas was given the mission to end the practice and rescue any children who had survived. Thus began a century of persecution as they and their descendants sought vengeance on any of our line they could find. Fortunately for us, by the 1700s, the slave trade was booming. Some of our line escaped the country on board slave ships like The White Lion and others. Some of our ancestors ended up in Southwestern Virginia. Still fearful of pursuit, we all assumed Indian names to prevent any connection to our Sere ancestors. That’s when I became Donoma. My African name is Quanna, ‘fragrance of the flower’. We settled on Bear Mountain in Amherst County and became part of the Monacan tribe. As fate would have it, and unbeknownst to us, descendants of the lupine Were line had also migrated to the Southwestern part of Virginia, but over the centuries, they had lost the ability to shift. By the twentieth century, they had evolved into Canid, beings with predominantly human DNA with lupine DNA a close second. They kept their lupine blood a closely-guarded secret. Their dominant human genes allowed them to walk the earth and interact with the human populace undetected.”
She paused. “But the predatory Were elements were not eradicated, they just lay dormant until they received the command to become active. I don’t know how, but those predatory genes, sensing our presence in the area, rose to dominate their human side. But they would tolerate no threat to their territory or the survival of their species. The territorial wars began again. Because over the years we had assimilated ourselves into the civilized, modern Monacan culture, our people were unprepared for the ferocity and savagery of the Canid Warriors. Our tribe was annihilated, only a few of us escaping the carnage. As far as I am aware, my grandson and I were the only ones who survived the attack on our village. My husband had been killed in an earlier attack. My daughter, Catori, and her three daughters—ten-year-old twins, Nita and Nokosi, and little three-year-old, Leena—were massacred before my eyes. I had been in a nearby field, digging yams with my grandson. We ran and hid in a nearby cave.”
Neo bent toward her as if to interrupt her. She raised her palm to stop him. She knew the question he wanted to ask.
“What happened to my grandson? He was only four years old. I knew the location of the Canid war camp and made my way there. Hiding in the nearby woods, I watched over my neto, my last connection to my old life.”
She rose and turned her back to Neo.
“I tore two strips of cloth from what was left of my calico underskirt and used one to blindfold him and made a ball of the other and stuffed it in his mouth. Then, I began to beat him, punching and kicking his little body. He struck out frantically with his arms and legs, trying to defend himself. Having stripped a branch from a nearby birch tree, I pulled up his pant legs and whipped his legs and arms until they ran with blood. After satisfying myself that he was as close to death as he could be without expiring, I scooped him up and carried him to the outskirts of the Canid camp. I deposited my baby’s bruised and tortured little body on the cold ground, removed the bloody, snot-drenched gag from his mouth, and walked away. His cries for his ‘bibi’ almost undid me, but I could not weaken. He would have no chance of survival as a descendant of the Sere line. His only chance at life would be as part of the Canid community. Once under Canid protection, his safety would be assured.”
“Wouldn’t the Canid sense his Sere blood?” Neo inquired.
“The chances of that happening were very slim. After the attack, I went back to our village and retrieved one of our warrior’s discarded weapons. I used the bloody blade to cut into the boy’s wrist and my own to allow Canid blood to enter our veins. Though Sere DNA would be present, the stronger, dominant Canid scent would mask it. The Powhatan Council would not take the chance of harming a child connected by blood to their species even if they were suspicious of his origins,” Donoma explained.
Neo was stunned by the story. Was she his grandmother? Images came flooding back to him, images of some of the things Donoma was describing. Though her features were hazy, he recalled the warmth of being held by his mother. He remembered laughing little girls chasing him as he ran to hide amidst his mother’s skirts.
He looked at Donoma more closely, searching for a familiar feature, expression, or gesture that would assure him that this was his “bibi” who had come to live with them after his father’s death.
“It was you,” he finally said. “You were the one who beat me. Why?” he asked, incredulous.
“Because there could be no suspicion that you were an orphan from the Sere tribe. No tribal member would savage its own offspring the way you were beaten, so I prevented the chance of any suspicion attaching itself to you.”
By this time, Neo had moved several feet away from her.
“Don’t you see that it was the only way?”
“The only way?” he replied with disdain. “To savage a child? To abandon him to strangers? Strangers who, if they ever discovered who he was, would kill him?”
Donoma approached and reached for him.
“Don’t touch me. God, don’t touch me!” he shouted, backing away from her. “You’re a monster!”
“No, son. You must understand,” she pleaded. “I did it for you, all for you.”
“Neo!” came a shout. “Where are you?”
The patio door opened, and Chayton walked in. Sensing the turmoil in the air and alarmed by the expression on Neo’s face, he halted. “Sorry to interrupt. Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” Neo said, forcing calmness into his voice.
As he and Chayton made their way to Stealth headquarters, Chayton asked, “Discovered anything I need to know?”
After a moment, Neo replied, “Nothing.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
When John Alexander first received his cancer diagnosis, he researched the most recent advances in medicine that could prolong his life indefinitely, ensuring improvement in his physical and mental abilities.
But despite the protests of his family, he resolved not to use any of them. At eighty-five years of age, he was ready to make the journey to be with his beloved Sarah. His children, Belen and Erol, were both in secure relationships, and he had been blessed with ten healthy, robust grandchildren.
He had witnessed the emergence of the Canid community and watched with pride as his grandsons, Dakota and Canaan, blazed the trail for their assimilation into the wider human culture. However, there was still a long way to go to mutual acceptance between the species. Still, the die had been cast, and things would only move forward.
Though he would not be present to m
eet the next generation, he felt secure that they would go forth and continue to multiply, and his immortality was guaranteed in their descendants.
There was just one task still left to him before he could leave.
The door opened, and his son, Erol, ushered in the two he had been waiting on, Canaan, his eldest grandson, and Canaan’s wife and mate, Calli. At John’s signal, Erol closed the door as he stepped out into the hall.
“Come closer, you two,” he called to Canaan and Calli. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Canaan guided Calli to the chair on the right at the head of the bed. He then pulled the small writing desk chair over to sit beside her.
Leaning over the bed, he took his grandfather’s hands and brought them to his lips.
“We’re here, old man,” he rasped, his tone subdued. “What can we do for you? Tell me what will get you out of that bed?”
“I’ll be leaving this bed soon enough, so you never mind,” his grandfather grumbled.
Turning to Calli, “Where’s my hug and kiss, Calli Girl?” he asked, reaching for her. “And what’s this? Are those tear tracks? None of that,” he scolded.
Rising and leaning over to kiss his forehead, Calli whispered, “Still soliciting hugs and kisses from young women, are you?”
“I’m not dead yet,” he chuckled. “And I can still take that young cub behind you, I’ll have you know.”
“I don’t know about that, Old Man,” Canaan retorted.
Calli perched on Canaan’s knees. Switching to a serious tone, John took one hand of each of his guests and clasped them together.
“I believe in the two of you,” John Alexander told them. “You have endured a lot, and you will face more challenges as you journey through life together. However, your love is strong and your commitment to each other unwavering. You have both proven that.”
Looking at Calli, he continued, “We all make mistakes, and contrary to what your elders tell you, age does not guarantee wisdom. It can however guarantee intractability in some of our other less stellar traits, such as stubbornness and hubris. However, the hope is that as long as we keep living, we have a chance to reach a state of grace, to be able to forgive, not only to forgive others but also to forgive ourselves. That is when we find peace. Never doubt how much you bring to this family—to all of this family—not just to Canaan. Promise me that you will not give up on them,” he bade her.
“I won’t,” Calli assured him, tears flowing freely. Canaan pulled her closer, stroking her arm.
“Now, you, grandson of mine,” he commanded, drawing Canaan’s gaze. “You have made me and your grandmother proud. We could not have asked for a more exemplary grandson to lead the next generation. As such, we have demanded a lot from you, too much at times. We sometimes forgot that you were only a man, not a god, and that sometimes everyone needed to set aside the burdens of responsibility and experience the unfettered joys of life. My one regret as I go to join my Sarah is that I have failed in ensuring that you had that. That is why I was overjoyed when you told me that you wanted to restore the castle and make it your new home. It is now yours. I am leaving it to you and Calli, to be passed on to your children and their children. The only restriction in the deed is that the property can never be part of the Canid pack’s communal real estate holdings. With it not being entailed as part of the Powhatan pack’s assets, Calli, you needn’t fear that if something happens to Canaan, it can be taken from you.”
Calli gasped. There was no way to express to him how much his gift meant to her. Canaan’s grandfather was giving her a home, a place to belong, to belong in a way she had not belonged since that fateful Warrior graduation day.
“Both of you, make it a home, a haven from the trials of the outside world with its ubiquitous slings and arrows.”
Canaan glanced over his wife’s head to catch the eye of his grandfather as he lowered himself back onto the pillow.
“Go and call in the others now, Canaan,” his grandfather whispered. “I want all my family around me as I greet our Sarah.”
#
The patriarch of the Alexander clan was buried on his two hundred-acre ranch next to his beloved Sarah. They rested in a grove of birch trees, a grove resplendent with a rainbow of assorted rose bushes scattered among small, two-person Pleasant Bay benches. Sarah spent the last years of her life cultivating her beloved roses just for this spot.
This was where she had brought their children and grandchildren to have special time with each child. Even after her death, it was here that John, Belen, Erol, and Sarah’s grandchildren still came, seeking solace when one or more had a difficult decision to make or needed a place where they knew they would receive unconditional love.
Attended by Canid and human dignitaries from the worlds of politics, business, and commerce, the funeral was a massive affair. Because John Alexander had risen to the rank of bishop in the Catholic Church, Archbishop Denton delivered his eulogy. John’s granddaughters Tamby, Adonna, Eshe, Bena, Shani, Nia, and Nura were flower girls, and his grandsons Canaan, Tau, Dakota, and their friends, Rand, Khan, and Saxe were pallbearers.
Back at the ranch house after the service, mourners visited with family members.
Canaan and his team were conspicuous in their determination not to leave Calli vulnerable to any displays of resentment or criticism. One or two of them were always in close proximity to her.
#
Seizing an opportunity to speak to her daughter-in-law alone, Belen followed Calli to the rear of the house into one of the restrooms, which Calli had chosen to ensure privacy.
She blanched when she saw her mother-in-law waiting for her as she left the stall. She avoided Belen’s gaze as she washed her hands.
“I didn’t come in here to fight.”
“And you expect me to believe that?” Calli responded.
“Probably not,” Belen shrugged. “With our history, that probably would be too much to hope for.”
Sighing, Calli asked, “What is it, Belen. I don’t want to cause you any distress on this of all days.”
“I just lost my father,” Belen said. “I don’t want to lose my son too.”
“You’re not going to lose your son,” Calli protested. “Canaan loves you. You could never lose him.”
“His feelings are different now, ever since your trial when he witnessed what happened to you.”
“I don’t understand,” Calli replied.
“Canaan holds me responsible for what happened to you.”
“That’s impossible,” Calli responded. “You had nothing to do with what happened to me.”
“Maybe not directly, but someone blocked your phone call for help during the attack. Since the phone was in our home, he is afraid that the person who did so felt they were supporting me by blocking your access to him,” she explained.
“Let me see if I understand this. Someone in Alpha House did not relay the message that I needed help?” she asked, incredulous.
“It looks that way,” Belen confirmed.
“I can’t believe that. That would mean that someone wished me dead.”
“Yes.”
“No, Belen. I refuse to accept that. Killing me would be the same as destroying Canaan. No matter how the Canid community feels about me, they love Canaan. They would never do anything to hurt him,” Calli insisted.
“You may be right, Calli, but we can’t take the chance,” Belen said.
“So, what is your proposal?”
“A truce, at least in public,” Belen put forth. “We must squash any rumors that you and I are feuding, that there is still conflict between us.”
“In other words,” Calli responded, “pretend that we don’t dislike each other.”
“I wish we didn’t have to pretend,” Belen replied.
“And I wish I had never been raped,” Calli retorted, then felt guilty for the thoughtless comment.
Sighing, Belen said, “I probably deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t,�
� Calli returned. “I apologize. There was no reason to be cruel to you, especially today.”
“We are both grieving someone we loved. It would please him so much if we healed the breach between us. It would please the rest of the family as well, especially Canaan.”
Calli took a deep breath.
“You’re right, of course. Now, how do we go about it?”
“Well, we can start by leaving this restroom together.”
“Not hugging and kissing surely,” Calli responded, fighting a smile.
Belen groaned at the slightly sardonic tone. “Maybe just not pulling each other’s hair out for now,” she responded in kind.
Both women turned as the restroom door slammed into the wall. Laura, clearly agitated, advanced on Belen. “Isn’t anything sacred to you?” she yelled. “Even at your own father’s funeral, you can’t put a hold on your vendetta against her!”
“Mom. No,” Calli protested. Stepping between the two women, she turned to face Laura. “You’ve got it all wrong,” she insisted. “Belen and I are declaring a sort of truce. We’re not fighting.”
Having been alerted by Calli’s guards that Belen had entered the restroom right after Calli, Canaan reached the door a second before Apollo and Odin.
He rushed to Calli’s side. “Mom, not now,” Canaan implored his mother. “Don’t do this, not today of all days.”
Calli grabbed his arm. “No, Canaan. Leave her alone. She is not doing anything.”
Apollo, going quickly to his wife’s side, pulled her into his arms and turned to face his son. “How dare you raise your voice to your mother? She just buried her father, for Christ’s sake!” he bellowed. “I’m done with you and your bitterness.” Still staring at his son, Apollo continued, “I’m asking you and your wife to leave. And don’t return until you can show your mother the respect she deserves.”
“Stop it,” Belen interrupted, pushing at Apollo’s chest. “We’re all upset and saying things we will come to regret.” Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the door. “Come, we must return to our guests.”
