“It have somewhere I could lie down?” she begged. “I tired too bad.”
*Come, I go show you.* Benta led them all to an aerial buttress vine. On a regular banyan it would have been narrow. On this mako tree it was bigger than Tan-Tan could wrap her arms round. There were handholds carved into it.
Her eyes more accustomed to the dusky light now, Tan-Tan could see how the daddy tree come in like a mangrove. It had many vast trunks to uphold its bulk. A fluorescent fungus grew everywhere, giving off guiding light. Tan-Tan gasped when Zake leapt right off the branch, opening his gliding flaps with a snap. He was heading downwards into the dark. Abitefa chirped something to her mother and started climbing down the aerial root.
“Get on Benta back,” Chichibud told Tan-Tan. He grabbed a liana and swung down.
Tan-Tan looked at Benta. Benta cooed something. Tan-Tan frowned, feeling more like crying, in truth. She didn’t understand. She wanted to go home. She couldn’t go home. Benta sidled up to her and tried to put one shoulder under Tan-Tan’s thigh, but no matter how low the douen woman crouched she was still too tall for Tan-Tan to throw her leg over the broad back. Benta warbled. Tan-Tan shook her head impatiently, running her hands over her hair. The hinte tapped Tan-Tan on the shoulder with her beak. Tan-Tan looked down where the beak was pointing. Benta had crooked one leg akimbo, making a step for Tan-Tan to climb up on.
“Climb up on your foot, Benta?”
*Yes.*
And is so Tan-Tan found herself straddling a hinte bareback. She had barely settled when Benta gathered herself and swooped down from the tree branch. Tan-Tan’s belly did a somersault. She grabbed for Benta’s snaky neck, squeezed with her thighs as hard as she could. Benta hadn’t puffed up her wings!
But they glided safely, Benta landing on one branch then pushing off to fall gracefully to a next one. Tan-Tan closed her eyes against the sight of leaves rushing too fast past her face. Her ears popped, her bruised legs protested. Benta connected with a thump on a hard surface. This time she didn’t immediately leap to another branch. The world was still again. Tan-Tan opened her eyes.
The structure in front of them was a cluster of room-sized spheres the colour and texture of dried leaves. Tan-Tan struggled for a childhood memory. The thing looked like a giant wasp nest. It had a halwa tree growing beside it, digging roots into the daddy tree like a parrot on a perch. Plants clustered all round the structure, feeding directly through the daddy tree’s branches. Stuck into the surface on either side of the wasp nest structure were the two beak halves from the mako jumbie that Chichibud had killed many years ago. Zake was perched at the very top of one of the beak halves. Benta screeched at him and he slid down to the branch, threw himself backwards through a hole in the wasp nest structure. Chichibud came out of the same hole, Abitefa clambering clumsily after him.
*Get down now,* said Benta. Tan-Tan let go Benta’s neck, although her arms-them felt like they wanted to lock there permanently, oui? She slid off the douen woman’s body.
“So you reach!” Chichibud laughed. “I was beginning to think say Benta let you fall.” Abitefa screeched and ruffled her body in douen woman mirth.
“Easy for oonuh to laugh,” Tan-Tan muttered. “Oonuh make to travel this way. I ain’t no ratbat, you hear?”
*Come inside.*
Up close, Tan-Tan could see the mudlike substance that formed the domes of the dwelling, the twigs and dead leaves mixed in for strength. A soft moss grew over it, with tiny square leaves. Probably that would make it waterproof.
The douen family had disappeared through the door hole. Tan-Tan had to crouch down to get inside. Her bruises stretched painfully.
Inside, it did spacious and airy. Glowing fungus everywhere made it bright, aided by kerosene lamps—traded from the humans—hanging from every level of the space. The domes connected on the inside in a waffle shape, rising to three-four storeys. Some of the walls had round holes knocked out of them for windows; or doors, Tan-Tan supposed, since the douens-them could fly or climb through any one they wished.
Some of the dwelling’s domes had been built right around smaller branches of the daddy tree. The structure would be very stable.
Zake hopped over to an aerial root. It had the same handholds carved in it that Tan-Tan had seen before. In no time at all the boy shinnied up the branch to the next storey. He opened his arms wide and threw himself into the air, screaming with glee, to glide down to the ground level. He took off at a hopping run into another room. Tan-Tan and the others followed.
A low oval table was in the middle of the room. It had logs in a circle around it; probably they could be seat or perch, depending on who was using it. Zake dove for a pile of approximately spherical cushions against one wall, all different sizes and shapes. He gathered them round himself in a temporary nest then reached out and broke off a piece of fluorescent fungus that was growing by the wall. To Tan-Tan’s surprise he popped it into his mouth and started eating it. He stared at her, saying nothing.
Tan-Tan recognised the dye-work on the fabric of the cushions; is Chichibud’s wife’s work . . .
“How Benta does do she weaving?”
Chichibud said, “Ask she nuh, doux-doux? I sure she go like to show you.”
Tan-Tan felt her ear tips heating with embarrassment. She’d forgotten again to speak directly to Benta.
*This way.* The hinte led her past a room with a hole right through the floor. Tan-Tan had to pee, but she wasn’t going to squat with her bottom exposed to the outside to do her business, like some kind of wild animal, a leggobeast in the bush. The room didn’t even self have a door! She felt her mouth screwing up in disgust.
A next room, too dark to see good, then Benta’s workspace. Weaving and dyeing were everywhere: cayenne red and ochre yellow strips were draped to dry on lines strung from wall to wall; cloth was folded into squares and stacked on one of the low tables; a sloping loom was strung with a half-finished piece. Tan-Tan could discern the dancing black figures that Benta was weaving into it. How, with no hands?
Benta waddled to the loom. In her beak she picked up a warp thread that had been dangling off to one side. The end of the thread was attached to a shuttle. Benta started shunting it through the warp, using her beak and one foot just like a parrot eating a nut. With the foot on the ground she pressed the treadle.
“But eh-eh!” Tan-Tan laughed. Everything here so strange!
Benta stopped the loom, chirped, *Bath for you now.*
The bathing room was the dark one next to the piss hole room. It had one mako big flowertop growing from the daddy tree right into the space. It put Tan-Tan in mind of a pineapple top, but at least three metres across. The tips of it extended out through small holes in the side of the room. Cool, diffuse light came through the holes. A lantern hanging from one of the spiny flower petals threw a quivering mandala of light on the wall. As her eyes adjusted, Tan-Tan could see that the crown of the flower was full of water; a natural bathtub. Abitefa was strewing crushed herbs from a small bowl into the water, stirring it with her arms that were crooking into wings. The herbs smelt strengthening, like the scent of coffee brewing. Abitefa stood and from a low shelf took a little iron pot with holes cut out the sides. She waved it in the air and a sweet-smelling smoke curled from out the pot. The bathing place felt peaceful and quiet, the perfect space to cleanse your body and your mind.
Benta left the two of them alone in the room. Abitefa glanced at Tan-Tan, looked away, made to shuffle past her. “Ahm, Abitefa?” said Tan-Tan. The young hinte woman stopped and looked at her silently. Did she speak Anglopatwa? “I need to, uh, I need to piss.”
Sure enough, Abitefa led her into the adjoining room that she had walked past a few minutes ago. Tan-Tan peered down into the squatting hole. There was some kind of bowl hanging below it. Her stomach roiled at the sight of the pale, fat grubs churning in the mess inside. But she was going to burst, she had to go. “You could watch the door for me?”
Abitefa warbled, then sw
itched languages: *Watch why.*
It was a question. “I mean, stand by the door and make sure nobody come by and look ’pon me while I peeing.”
Abitefa ruffled her developing feathers in amusement, but waddled to the door and stood. She skreeked loudly, *Nobody coming.* There was a flurry of answering calls and cries from somewhere in the dwelling. Tan-Tan hurriedly did her business while Abitefa rustled and bustled with laughter. The acid urine stung Tan-Tan where . . . feeling Bad Tan-Tan stirring, she abandoned the thought. She quickly pulled up her clothing and said loudly to Abitefa, “I done now.”
Abitefa took her back, continued preparing the bath. Not knowing what to say to her, Tan-Tan just looked round. On the floor beside the bromeliad tub it had a bowl with scrubbing husks. A handful of arm-thick stalks jutted out one side of the tub, pushed themselves out of a hole that had been cut for them trunkside of the room. Abitefa pulled one of the stalks to the inside. It was a big dark blue flower, pitcher-shaped, with a deep cup. Abitefa bent the stalk over the bath, emptied its load of water in.
“Oho,” Tan-Tan said.
*Bathe now,* Abitefa sang. She left Tan-Tan to figure it out herself.
Tan-Tan stood closer to the bromeliad tub. She could see a trickle of condensation running from the tip that went outside down into the tub. It would refill itself constantly and the douens could top it up from the pitcher flowers if they needed to. How did they drain it?
She was alone, finally. The flicker-lace light from the lamp threw soft, gentle shadows on the leaves and branches. Tan-Tan dabbled her hand in the bath water. It was warm. The trickle sound of the water was a soothing balm. It had a scent in the room of growing things, of peace. She was tired for true, seen. She was nearly swaying on her feet with fatigue. She made to strip off her shirt—but the door, it ain’t have no door!
She yelped when Abitefa shuffled back into the room unannounced. Startled, Abitefa dropped the folded unbleached cloths she’d been carrying. They stood staring at each other. Was the young hinte shy? Vexed? Indifferent? The elongated hands of Abitefa’s going-to-wings arms-them retained their fingers on their ends, that’s how she grasped things. Abitefa picked up one of the cloths and rubbed it against her own body.
“You mean I must dry myself with them?” asked Tan-Tan.
*Yes.*
She was gone again. Tan-Tan knotted two-three of the soft cloths together and tied them across the door.
Finally some quiet, oui. Tan-Tan took off her clothing and climbed into the flowertop. Her feet slid into the centre, where the wide spikes of the bromeliad overlapped to hold the water. It was warmer there. The heat seemed to be coming from the core of the flower. So strange to be inside a living bath! She lowered herself in.
As her behind hit the warm, fragrant water all her nicks and cuts from the day before awoke stinging. She sucked in air against the pain and eased in slowly. Her hands were trembling, her knees shaking. All of a sudden she felt sick. Every scratch was a memory, every gash an image. Bad Tan-Tan was screaming at her, accusing her. She could see the raised welts on her legs from Daddy’s belt. Sobbing, she scooped up some water, splashed her face with it. The water made a spot on her cheek burn. She touched it gently. A bruise, from Antonio’s slap. Another, a branch-whip from their flight through the bush.
The herbs in the water were soothing, eventually eased the pain of her wounds to a blessed numb tingle, but Tan-Tan was sobbing by the time she was clean. This wasn’t just a day trip, an adventure. She had had home torn from her again.
Tan-Tan crouched in the tub, watching the tears dropping one by one into the water. She felt sick to her stomach. Only good for dead, hissed Bad Tan-Tan. Her dripping eye water made rings in the bath.
She stayed there so until the chilling of her skin from the water brought her back to herself. She was hungry, yes? She climbed down from the bath and dried her skin. She picked up her birthday skirt—today was her birthday—to put it back on. A faint smell snaked out from it, different from the cleansing scents of herbs and smoke. A smell of blood. Tan-Tan skinned up her face and dropped the skirt into the bath water. She swirled it round, wrung it, laid it over one of the flower spikes to dry. She found a dryish piece of cloth from the pile Abitefa had brought her. She tied it into a dhoti round her hips, wrapped another cloth round her chest and tied it into a halter at neck and waist. She looked down at herself with a wry smile. “But look at what I come to, ee? Living in a tree like a monkey, wearing a halter top and a diaper. Lord, if Janisette see this outfit, she would dead with laugh.”
Janisette. Tan-Tan’s mind shut tight like a mouth again.
Her belly grumbled. Maybe Chichibud and them would give her something to eat? She slipped her sandals back on and left the bathroom, looking for Chichibud and his family.
The main room was empty. Benta wasn’t in her weaving room. Tan-Tan couldn’t find Abitefa or Zake anywhere.
“Allyou?” she called out softly. Then, a little louder: “Is where everybody gone!”
*Up here, doux-doux!*
Tan-Tan looked up. Three-four ropes hanging from the ceiling were threaded through a round hole. The whole family was looking down on her from a next room up there.
Chichibud called down, “I still smelling the heat from the lantern, child. Bush Poopa don’t like a unwatched fire.” So she had to go back and blow out the lantern. When she returned, Chichibud told her to climb one of the ropes and join them for the day meal.
The ropes had spaced knots that she could wrap her toes round, had they been long and prehensile like douen toes. But she had always liked to climb . . . She kicked off her sandals and grabbed hold of a rope. The climb seemed to take forever. By the time she stuck her head through the hole, she had added rope burns to her other abrasions. The muscles in her arms were burning like pepper. Chichibud and Benta had to pull her the rest of the way, with her grinning like a fool. She had done it. “Is a good thing I know how to tie dhoti, ain’t?” she announced to the family. “Couldn’t have do all of this in that little short skirt.”
A piece of the daddy tree trunk formed one wall of the space in which she found herself. Two branches stuck out from the trunk along one wall surface, and then poked out to the outside. The trunk grew right up through the ceiling-self. There was a hole cut out for it. Thick, succulent daddy tree leaves grew from the trunk and branches; some hand-sized, some long as she. In amongst the branches, it had more of the flowerstalk that had been in the bathroom sticking through the windows. There was lots of water available for food preparation. Somebody had dug small pits in the meat of the branches-them, lined them with what looked like dried leaves, then planted herbs inside. Their roots probably tapped into the daddy tree’s own food systems. Tan-Tan recognised peppermint and scotch bonnet pepper that the douens had probably traded with humans for, but it had a whole set of plants too besides that she didn’t know.
The family was sitting or crouching on a crescent-shaped rug on the floor. It had bowls in front of them, but Tan-Tan couldn’t really make out what was inside.
“Sit, Tan-Tan,” Chichibud said.
He hopped over to a table that was right under the herbs. One set of wooden and iron bowls had been put on the table, and some piles of what looked like meat and plants. Chichibud picked up a cleaver, overturned one of the bowls and started chopping up the things that had tumbled out. The things tried to crawl away as he chopped. Tan-Tan’s skin crawled; they were the same kind of grubs she had seen in the toilet. Maggot juice flew as Chichibud diced away with his cleaver. He caught one grub just as it wormed its way off the table. He popped it into his mouth and chewed contentedly. Tan-Tan swallowed hard to keep from spewing up her belly contents right there. Mama Nanny, is what she doing here?
“I ain’t too hungry, you know,” she announced.
“Well, if you ain’t eat now, is hours before night meal.”
Chichibud said something to Zake. The boy stood and collected two bowls and a pile of wood skewers from the chopp
ing table. He took them over to where the family was sitting. Chichibud brought the bowl of minced grubs himself. The table was set. Tan-Tan squatted down beside Abitefa, who presented her with a gap-toothed grin; smile or grimace, who knew? The sight of Abitefa’s funny half-beak-half-muzzle mouth made Tan-Tan queasy. Between these bird-lizard people and the offal they ate, is what she land-up herself in now? She leaned forward to look into the bowls-them to see is what they really expected her to put into her mouth in truth.
A tiny lizard darted from a crevice in the nest wall. It ran right over her hand, snatched a piece of salad from out one bowl, and glided back towards its hole on little wingflaps just like the ones douen pickney had. Tan-Tan yanked back her hand.
Abitefa warbled. She held out her own hand to intercept the lizard. The reptile ran right up onto Abitefa’s shoulder and stood there on its hind legs, stuffing salad leaf into its mouth with tiny claws.
“Cousin,” Chichibud cooed at the lizard, “good you come to visit.” From one of the bowls, he picked up something that had enough still-wriggling legs for twelve centipedes, oui. He waved it in front of the lizard’s face. Its eyes-them got big like cat eye when she see cockroach a-run past. It flew off Abitefa’s shoulder, straight at the centipede thing. Chichibud let it go. The lizard wrestled the centipede to the ground and bit off its head one time, just like Chichibud had done with the tree frog. The lizard settled down to its afternoon meal, crunching up chitin and all.
Tan-Tan swallowed hard. “I could just have some salad? Plain salad, with nothing on it?”
*Yes,* said Benta. The family settled down to their food, taking from the various bowls and pushing raw meat and live insects and everything into their mouths. Every so often, one of them would dip some writhing something into a bowl of lavender paste that Abitefa had put there and pop it into their mouths, making hissing noises, like if the mess they were eating tasted good for true. A delicious smell came from the bowl of chopped-up grubs. Tan-Tan’s belly grumbled at being denied. She ignored it.
Midnight Robber Page 19
