The Bridge Home

by Matthew Williams

  Eventually Obasi was able to coax a small burning ember into a roaring fire. They cooked their haul of sand crabs in a pot of boiling water and ate them in silence under the stars. With each bite, Akiiki found himself enjoying the small burst of sea water and soft flavor more and more. They ate all the crabs and finished their meal with a large drink of water.

  “How do you learn to take control over yourself?” Akiiki asked after they had both finished drinking.

  Obasi looked at him. “What?”

  “Before, you said that someone’s true power comes when they learn how to take control over themselves. How can I do that?”

  “It is a choice, a choice to accept responsibility for the consequences of your actions whether they are good or bad. But to truly make a choice, the heart must be centered and the mind focused. A heart centered on the truth knows what is right and what is wrong, and to a focused mind, our mistakes and failures serve not as deterrents, but as lessons. In nature, good and bad exist as opposing forces that each work together to push and pull life forward. In this way we can choose our actions not based on the world around us, but on the world within us.”

  Akiiki closed his eyes and listened to the crashing waves in the distance. He took a deep breath and stared up into the night sky.

  “What lesson can there be in my father’s death?”

  “Lessons that come from death can be particularly hard for us to learn. Unfortunately, man has been corrupted by greed, envy, hate and mistrust which turns the heart cold. It is a shame so many live with such negativity in their hearts, but to let men like Lael turn your heart cold would be to allow him to have power over you and your destiny.”

  “It hurts so badly. It feels like there is a hole in my heart that will never go away.”

  “Of course. The loss of someone near to our hearts always pains us, because their bodies have left this earth. But a person lives through the memories and lessons they leave us. As long as we hold them in our mind and hearts they can never truly be gone, they live in our daily actions and our choices. Do not weep for your father, smile each time you are filled with his memory and laugh every time you hear his voice inside of you, for he still communicates with you from the land of gods.”

  Tears began to well in Akiiki’s eyes. “But I miss him so much. It’s not fair.”

  Obasi moved closer to Akiiki and put his arm around his shoulder. “Life is not fair,” he said in a whisper. “Every man, woman, and child who has ever lived has learned that lesson, but each of us have the strength within us to make it past any obstacle placed in our way.”

  Akiiki started to cry. Long trails of tears dripped from his chin into the sand. His throat ached as he sobbed, and the world around him suddenly became a silent portrayal of his misery. Silence was the absence of a heartbeat, the darkness, a shadow that blocked the light. Even Obasi’s tender embrace felt like that of a stranger.

  The pain in his chest worsened, and he gasped for air as he tried to speak.

  “I know my son. Let it out.”

  Thoughts of his father crashed against the rocky shore of his consciousness, and as the waves receded, they left remnants from another distant life scattered across his memories. He lost his strength and leaned his weight against Obasi. His eyes closed as Obasi gently laid him down and covered him with a small blanket.

  “Rest now my son. Things will seem brighter in the morning.”

  He heard Obasi’s words as he drifted away into sleep.

  ***

  He awoke to a clear, light blue sky, and the distant fleeting melodies of a soft familiar voice. Sitting up, he looked to his side and saw Obasi lying in the sand, his shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. As he made his way through the cool morning sand toward the ocean, the world passed through Akiiki’s body. The earth beneath his feet told stories of the wisdom of past generations and music from the wind sang to him, replacing his thoughts with voices and melodies played in perfect harmony. He became absorbed in the world of the music until the sand, ocean and even the horizon ahead of him, became not a place, but a moment flooded with a beauty he had never experienced. As he stepped into the wet sand and the water rushed over his feet, he looked up into the sky and his eyes filled with tears. But there was no sadness in his tears, only a deep overwhelming clarity.

  A voice from behind sent the music tumbling away as the comforting grip of the earth retreated into the depths.

  “How are you feeling my son?”

  Akiiki shook his head as the world returned to its normal state. “Much better,” he said as he turned towards Obasi.

  “Ah, very good! We will try to make up ground today from our slow travels. Come, we need to get going.”

  As they walked, Akiiki searched for the music of the wind and the wisdom of the earth, but both were nowhere to be found. Their absence left Akiiki feeling divided and incomplete.

  Akiiki turned to Obasi. “This morning when you found me by the water, I felt, different,” he said.

  Obasi turned to him. “Really? How did you feel?”

  “I heard the music of the wind and my body felt things in the earth I have never felt before, just like the visions I had.”

  Obasi looked at him and smiled. “The truth in nature is a very powerful thing. Most only grow farther away from it as they age, but once the mind and body rediscover truth, it is not uncommon to experience it during times of inner peace.”

  “But I can’t feel it anymore. What happened?”

  “When you first begin to recognize the truth around you, it comes and goes as a part of your instinct, as part of the true nature within you. But you will learn it is your own thoughts that drown out nature and her truths, and that with practice you can quiet your mind so that nature speaks to you always.”

  “I see. Are we going to do another healing tonight?”

  “If you feel up to it.”

  They walked the rest of the day in silence before making camp under the setting sun. Again, Akiiki tried his hand at building a fire with no success.

  “We are almost out of water,” Obasi said as he worked his drill into the fire-board.

  “Go gather some so we can fill our pouches.”

  Akiiki took the pot and filled it with water from the ocean. When he returned to the camp, Obasi had the fire started. Akiiki put the pot of water in the fire, and they waited quietly as the sun set and the water boiled. Using a piece of cloth, Obasi took the lid off the pot, removed the jar and poured the clear water from the jar into the pouches.

  “Are you ready?” he asked when he had finished filling the pouches.

  “Yes,” Akiiki nodded.

  Obasi took out his jars and began to mix the fine powder on the plate in front of him. When he was finished, his eyes were dark and focused, and he placed a pair of antlers in the sand. Akiiki’s heart beat quickened, and he shivered as Obasi poured the mixture of powders into the fire with a puff of smoke. Slowly the smoke condensed in the sand in front of Akiiki and began to take the shape of a small deer. It stood in the sand and looked at Akiiki, who stared back at it. Suddenly, it leaped towards him and he fell back into the sand with his eyes closed.

  HIS EAR TWITCHED in the blowing wind and he stopped nibbling at the small dry blades of grass under his feet long enough to scan the horizon. Danger hung heavy in the air, flooding his senses with awareness. The earth trembled in his legs with each step, though he knew the true threat hid in what he could not smell, hear or see.

  Scanning the plains around him, he searched for movement, listening for the soft crackling of dead grass.

  The tranquility of the moment added to his restlessness as he slowly dropped his head back to the earth to eat. He kept his eyes focused on the horizon as he stepped across the dry hardened sand, ripping dead grasses from the floor with his teeth.

  With each passing moment of peace, the chaos in his mind swelled. The silence in the air was filled with hidden terrors as dea
th, a constant companion in his life, hid in the grass around him. He continued to pick at the grasses near his feet, methodically working his way across the ground.

  A faint whisper of movement echoed through the air and terror rattled through his body. He quickly turned toward the sound before it melted away into silence. He waited, heart racing, and the entire world seemed to wait with him.

  With a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, his muscles exploded with the pent-up energy of fear and terror. The ground trembled behind him as he ran for his life through the tall grass. His chest burned from exhaustion, but driven by the will to survive, he quickened his pace. The world around him became a blur as his senses focused onto a single point of survival. His eyes shot over the land, searching for open space away from the dangers that hid in the grass, and the ground underneath his feet disappeared as he sprinted for his life.

  As the footsteps behind him weakened, and the imminence of danger in his body began to disappear, he darted across the plain until he no longer felt the pounding of paws behind him. His muscles begged for him to rest, and finally out of danger, he slowed to a trot. Slowly, the world around him came back into focus as the terror in his mind cleared and he took a breath.

  His small moment of peace shattered around him in an instant.

  A storm erupted by his side that froze his body in shock and spread darkness across his mind. Sharp claws tore at his flesh and he tumbled into the grass. Pain ripped through his body and he was overcome by an acceptance of his fate that extinguished his will to fight. As his attacker fell upon him, his body went limp and the world fell in around him.

  ***

  Akiiki’s heart thundered in his chest and he gasped for air as he sat up in the sand. He opened his eyes toward the sky. The darkness seemed strange and new as the world filled in around him and he slowly started to regain his sense of self.

  A comforting hand landed across his back. “Easy my son,” Obasi’s voice was a guiding light in the darkness. Akiiki looked down at the fire and took a deep breath.

  “That’s it, just breathe,” Obasi said as he walked over and grabbed the water pouch from the sand.

  “Drink,” he said as he handed the pouch to Akiiki. Akiiki took a long sip. The water helped soothe his beating heart.

  “What happened?” Akiiki asked, taking another sip of water. His thoughts began to settle but the hollow remains of terror jumbled his memory.

  “You experienced the other side of power,” Obasi said as he sat down beside Akiiki.

  “The other side of power?”

  “Fear,” Obasi said coldly. “If power comes from the control one has over their own life, fear exists when we lose control over our life to the world around us. In this way the world is dangerous, for a person without power is left to the mercy of not only the unrelenting power of nature, but also to those who wish to exploit the powerless for their own selfish pursuits.”

  Akiiki listened to Obasi’s words over the rapid beating of his heart. A pressure in the air weighed across his shoulders, and he hung his head in the silence.

  Obasi moved closer until he was sitting right beside Akiiki. “Fear is a truth in all things. A mother fears the starving of her children and a man may fear losing his crops to drought. The old fear the surety of death, and the young fear the endless possibilities of life. In each case the fear is of the unknown. Much like the salmon that swims upstream against the mighty current to lay her eggs, we must face our fears head on. Power comes not from being blind to fear, but from the foundation of strength that develops by our struggle to conquer our fears.”

  Akiiki could only sigh. His body was weak, and his eyes were heavy. He dropped his head once again and fixed his gaze upon the fire as Obasi continued.

  “We exist in a oneness with nature. Fear and power, happiness and sadness, life and death, are merely the colors we use to paint the portrait of our lives. For example, the loss of your father makes you sad, and this sadness is a darkness in your life, but the darkness you feel now is only a mere shadow in the portrait of your life. If you choose to accept only the sadness of your father’s death, at the end of your life you will find your canvas dark and colorless. Instead, allow the shadow of your father’s death to add depth and meaning to the masterpiece of your life. It is a mistake we all make in our youth, to become trapped in the turmoil of the present, but with wisdom we can learn to step back and see our lives as beautiful portraits of both color and shadow.”

  Akiiki relaxed slightly with Obasi’s words.

  “Rest now,” Obasi said as he stood up and added more sticks to the fire. The wood crackled as the flames consumed the new fuel. “You will feel better tomorrow when the sun rises and warms your spirit.”

  Akiiki closed his eyes as he laid down in the sand. Sleep was a fleeting companion for him throughout the night, as his dreams rotted into nightmares in which his father stared at him coldly with dark empty eyes and disappointment smeared across his face. With each nightmare, he awoke gasping for air in a deep sweat of panic, haunted by the image of his father’s eyes.

  Relief from his unsettling dreams came as sunlight broke across the horizon. He rolled onto his side and faced the rising sun as he cried quietly to himself. His tears were full of the anger towards the ways of deceitful men, and the pain of a grieving son, as well as the doubt of a boy lost, not only to the world, but to himself. Tears streamed down his face as the rays of sunlight extended their reach over the desert, warming the sand and chasing away the dark spell in the night air. Akiiki wiped the tears from his face, sat up, and looked out at the sun, which hung in the air like a bright orange jewel.

  “There is nothing quite like the rising sun to remind us of our true place in the world,” Obasi said behind him. “The sun has cast its light upon all that has ever come to be in this world, and still it continues to rise. It has witnessed the kindness of the human spirit as well as its malice, but still it rises just as it has since the beginning of time, just as it will after you and I are gone from this earth.”

  Akiiki turned his attention from Obasi and back to the sunrise over the water. The bright colors of the morning sky blended together into a fabric that seemed to cradle the land, gracefully waking it from its slumber.

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” Akiiki said softly.

  “Do what?” Obasi asked.

  “Be a strong king like my father,” Akiiki said, fighting the urge to cry. “I’m not strong enough.”

  “Ultimately in life, our true regrets come not from the failure of our actions but from failing to act. You cannot allow fear to blind you from the strength you carry within.”

  “But I don’t know the first thing about being king. Not really. The world is so much different than the books and stories I have studied. How can I succeed when my father failed?”

  “A person’s strength can only be determined by the amount of responsibility they choose to bear in this world. The gods created us with all of their strength already inside us. Only by testing ourselves against fear and impossible odds can we learn the true strength of our character. You may feel like you are not yet set to rule, but there is no teacher like that of experience. If being king is the destiny you choose for yourself, your will shall be tested by many difficulties and when the sun sets on your life, you will look back and only then realize how strong you truly were.”

  Considering Obasi’s words, Akiiki stood up and with his toes in the cold sand and faced Obasi. “Do you really think I would make a good king?”

  Obasi looked at him, his eyes alive with passion and focus. “You have a good and kind spirit. I can see it in your eyes. Your father was a man of great honor. His death speaks more to the conditions of the times and the fragility of men, than to his character. He taught you well when you decide to take the throne, I believe the kingdom would be in great hands.”

  Akiiki kicked sand on the smoldering embers of the fire.

  “What are
you doing?” Obasi asked.

  “There is no time to waste! If I am to be king, we must get going.”

  Obasi smiled. “Of course, my King,” he said as he bowed his head.

  They had not walked for long when they saw a strange object far off in the distance. Akiiki squinted and saw a small boat propped upside down on three long poles in the sand.

  They were still a good distance away when two dark bodies made their way down the sand towards the boat. Obasi reached an arm in front of Akiiki, and they both stopped in the wet sand.

  As they watched, the two strangers began to untie the boat from its stilts. They worked in silence, oblivious to Akiiki and Obasi, until one of them turned towards them and stopped. The other, noticing her partners gaze, turned and looked at them as well.

  The breath held in Akiiki’s lungs as the two women stared at them. They were young and strong, with deep brown skin that beamed in the sun. Around their waist they wore long skirts of dried grass, and their chests were wrapped with a simple white cloth. They had no hair on their heads, and one had large tusks threaded through her nose while the other had large wooden plates that dangled from her ears.

  The four of them stood in the sand staring at each other for a moment before Obasi spoke. When he was finished, the two women turned their attention back to the boat. They quickly untied the boat and lifted it off its stilts. As they began to make their way inland, they motioned towards Obasi.

  “Stay close to me,” Obasi whispered.

  Akiiki moved closer to Obasi as they made their way up the sandy slope.

  “Who are they?” Akiiki asked.

  “They are the Chinyanja, a small band of ocean hunters that live off the bounty of the sea,” Obasi said as the came over the top of the dune.