The evening was very nice and we sat through a special show of musical performances and spoken word.
Several groups of various styles went up to perform. My favorite was when a group called “Inspired” began. Theirs was a smooth blend of music that was a cross between jazz, folk, hip hop and gospel and funk that still fell into my favorite genre of Niara Soul.
Their take on the style included the baiolin (an instrument that was as big as a bass, but could play notes all the way up to a violin) a conga drum, a mandolin and the Native American flute- all driven by urban baselines. The result was a type of music that was soothing, uplifting, and altogether cool.
After the performances, everyone milled about eating, talking and laughing. It seemed as if all of RoAam had come out for the celebration, young and old. Over in the corner, I could even see that some of the local gang members had come out for the festivities.
One particularly menacing looking group, off in a back corner, was gathered together. One member looked over to our group, settled his eyes on Aziz, and then began to walk over.
“Aziz, I think that guy is coming over to talk to you,” Teo said with a slight nod of his head.
He was a rough looking guy, and seemed about our age. He wore a fur vest that had been burned around the edges and treated with willow bleach.
“What up, Infa?!” the man stepped directly in front of Aziz, a questioning look in his eyes.
It took Aziz only moments to recognize him. “What's up, Brotha!” And he embraced the man in a bear hug.
“I thought that was you, Aziz! How's it been holding down with you, man?”
“Guys, this is Emil. He and I knew each other since Primary School on Deloria. His family moved here after what, 9th year?
“Yeah, man, that's right. It's going good. Got in with a tight crew down here, so it's all worthy. I got to head back to take care of some business, but we got to stay up, OK.?
“Man, for real,” Aziz said, slapping him on the back. They exchanged Tele-Com numbers: Aziz sliding out his outdated Tele-Stick and Emil his super slick one which looked really expensive.
Emil lifted his eyebrows at seeing Aziz's ancient Tele-Stick. “A little behind the times, Bro?”
Aziz gave a shrug, “Yeah, this is what I've got for now. I like what you've got tho, what is that, a Tele-Stick 3Trexel?
Emil turned his Tele-Stick back and forth in his hand. “Yeah, man. I've got some business going on, makes it so I can afford this type of stuff. You just let me know when you want to get down, OK?
Aziz glanced over to the rest of Emil's crew. “Nah, man, I can't hang with that. But thanks.” Aziz paused for a moment. “Emil, you know that stuff is killing our people. I know you. You're a strong Brother. You're a leader, man. We need more like you who can help our people, not hurt them. You be careful, OK?” The spidery looking tattoo on all of the gang members' arms told us they were part of the Shifters gang. Everyone knew that the gang's main stream of income came from selling drugs.
“Man, why you up in all of that? You don't even need it.” Aziz said concern in his voice.
Emil's hard exterior broke for a split second, then hardened again. “My family ain’t doin' too good. Gotta do what I gotta do. I gotta run, but stay in touch OK?
“OK, Brotha, let's do that.” Aziz said. They embraced again and Emil left.
“Uuugh, I hate it when I hear someone call another tribes-person 'Infa'. I said, shaking my head.
'Infa' was short for 'Inferior'. The Houdakin had began to call us Inferiors and themselves Superiors shorty after arriving on Mercia. For some reason, some amongst the tribe had taken to calling each other 'Infas' as a slang term that was supposed to make the derogatory phrase now cool.
“It's like destroying the meaning they put behind it, and showing that we have control” I had heard others defending it.
I just didn't get it. And I sure didn't want to call my Brothers or anyone else anything that originated from such an ugly thought.
“Are you gonna call him, Aziz?” I asked.
“Yeah, that's a good Brother. I know I can help him find a better way.”
I took a bite of my crab, chewing thoughtfully. There were so many out there like him, trying to provide for their families,... but destroying their communities and their own lives in the process.
The performances were over, but everyone was still enjoying the music, food and atmosphere. I got up to get another cup of drink and spotted Nonkululeko and Sigvard. I stopped by their area on my way back to my seat.
“Peace be upon you, Instructors. I meant to thank you both for the lesson today. It was great.” I said, bowing my head slightly. They returned the greeting.
“You all did a great job today. We are all very proud of you,” Sigvard said, then turned to Nonkululeko, “I'll be right back, honey,” he said, leaning over to give Nonkululeko a kiss on the cheek.
“OK, hon,” Nonkululeko said, and then she motioned for me to sit down.
I smiled. He had given her a kiss on the cheek during our training too. So they were definitely a couple.
“You guys make such a nice couple. The bond you have really is beautiful.”
“Yes, we have been blessed by the Creator. We have been married for 10 years now. It makes me happy to think about it.” She reflected for a moment.
“There was a time when the thought of our two cultures coming together was near impossible. But as the years went by and unions and more marriages happened, and grand children were born,...those children became a powerful peacemaking force. Think about that. People from two conflicting sides, come together and produce a child. Think about if the grandparents on each side were against each other for some reason, be it racism or what have you. Now the grandparents have a choice to make. To either throw away their -ism and love that child, or continue on in their same frame of mind. To accept and love that child is the beginning of opening your heart to a new way of thinking. Getting closer to God. “
“And blessed are the peacemakers.” I said, nodding.
Nonkululeko smiled and nodded too. “Exactly.”
Nonkululeko studied me for a moment, lost in thought. “You all really did do well today. We are in good hands. Just remember, when you feel fear try to creep in, use all of your energy to push it out.”
We were silent for a moment, looking around at others enjoying the merriment. Nonkululeko turned to me. Our eyes locked, and everything around us froze. Time seemed to stand still, and go in slow motion.
Nonkululeko spoke to me. I heard her voice, but her lips didn't move.
“Sister,” she said. My heart throbbed in my chest, not knowing if I should panic or not.
Her voice went on, “There will come a time where your faith will be tested. You will have to reach down very deep and not be temped to use your gifts the wrong way. Be strong, Sister. Be strong.”
And then time snapped back into motion. Nonkululeko was looking at me with puzzled eyes.
“Yaya, are you OK?”
I stared back, raising my eyebrows slightly. It didn't seem as if she knew what had just happened.
“Um, yeah, I'm OK.”
“Well,” she continued, “I just wanted to compliment you on how well you did today.”
“Thank you, Instructor. Your words mean very much to me.”
We both spotted Sigvard making his way back over to us.
“I had better get going,” I said. Nonkululeko leaned over and gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Peace unto you daughter Yaya. We will see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Have a blessed rest. You will need it.
Chapter 9
“And unto man he said, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.' "
The Holy Bible KJV, The Old Testament
Job 28:28
The next day, we all gathered at Mother Joy and Sister San-Iyah's house. The Kulindas, the Meulim, and all of us Gifted 5 sat seated in their li
ving room, sipping cups of elderberry tea and eating cinnamon and blueberry breakfast loafs.
The two sisters were beautiful, their silver-blue hair arranged in two thick braids that hovered just above their waists.
Nonkululeko stood up, “Peace be upon you, Brothers and Sisters. Today marks the end of your training. Tomorrow, we will prepare to invite our Sister tribes to join us to stand against the Houdakin. You will be challenged. There are many who have their own ideas on how the Houdakin should be dealt with, and its not likely they will receive being under the leadership of 5 teenagers.”
Hmmm. Well, that's just great I thought to myself.
“But, before we begin to send out our call for support, there is one more bit of information you will need to know. Mother Joy and Sister San-Iyah are the keepers of the sacred histories.
Mother Joy stood up, a worn leather bound book in her hands.
She spoke, her voice as smooth and as comforting as classical music. “We must now get down to a nasty bit of business that has remained hidden for over 350 years. Had this information been made public before, a riot would surely have started. Our people would have never been able to stand against the Houdakin. Until now that is. “
“Now relax. Your tea contained an extract of garlic found here on Mercia, which helps to regulate blood flow and heightens senses. This book is a projector. Once opened, anyone close by who has sensitized brain synapses will be able to experience the past as if really there.”
Sister San-Iyah continued. “No matter what you see, try not to become emotional. Emotions will interfere with the connection between the books signal and your brain.”
“And if we opt not to take this little journey?” Aziz questioned.
Sister San-Iyah just shook her head, while Mother Joy raised one eyebrow, staring at him. Her look clearly said that she did not find his question amusing.
“Not...that I don't want to go........oh, just beam us on up.” he backed down as we suppressed giggles.
Our eyes slowly fluttered close as she peeled open the cover of the tattered book. The room around us began to fade as ink spatters of a new scene slowly materialized.
Mother Joy's voice could be heard faintly. “You are the orbs of light. Stay together until the projection ends.”
Once our new reality had finally locked into place, I saw what she meant. We had been transported back to Earth, 2060, and we had become orbs of light, silently gliding in the air, able to fully take in a 360 view of the scene around us.
Our orbs floated into the middle of a house. It was both modern and simple. Clean lines and modular furniture was accompanied by sleek wooden molding. An eclectic mix of art hung from the walls: African tapestries, Indian artifacts and Japanese paintings. Cultural decorations were thoughtfully placed throughout the home.
I heard someone's breath catch as a tall dark man rushed into the room. We instantly recognized him as Maliki Midou.
“Its...” someone started, but San-Iyah's voice spoke, “Shhhhhh. Pay attention.” she reprimanded.
Our orbs glided and swished around Maliki as he tore throughout the home, opening drawers, slamming cabinets. A young woman soon rounded the corner holding a baby securely on her hip, and with a toddler clinging to her leg. There was a look of panic on her face.
“Maliki, you're scaring me. You've got to tell me what's going on.”
The desperation underlying the woman's words got his attention and he crossed the living room over to her in three long strides.
“Yuliana, they want to see me.” Maliki said
Her eyes searched his, and her brows crumpled.
“What does that mean? Oh Maliki, you have done nothing wrong! You've done nothing but good! You are paying for everyone to go to the new planet who cannot afford it. What is wrong with that?” She hissed, trying to contain the frantic emotion out of her voice so that she wouldn't scare the children.
“I don't know, my love. I did what was right. Sometimes, men are at odds with that.”
Everyone in the room knew what the implications were. The wealthy of the earth had been slowly becoming more and more subversive and secretive. Someone like Midou would certainly have the absolute loyalty and support of the middle and lower class population. Such a person could, with all that support, quickly become the most powerful man on the entire new planet.
Yuliana pulled her husband close, trying to will the issue away.
She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the scent of the frankincense oil on his coat. Maliki pulled back, held his wife's shoulders firmly in his grasp, and looked lovingly into Yuliana's eyes.
“Before they come to take me, you must leave here with the babies.”
Yuliana's eyes widened with the realization that he meant for her to implement the emergency plan they had laid out should anything go wrong. Fake identities had already been created for her and for the children. She wanted to scream. This wasn't suppose to happen—everything was upset inside, but she straightened her spine, rolled back her shoulders, and resolved to be strong for herself and her family.
She silently asked Why, Lord, why? and heard the distant reply as a memory of something one of her college professors once told her. “Trials are opportunities to get closer to God. To be able to hear His voice in times of panic and pressure.”
Yuliana and Maliki kissed.
“I love you.”Yuliana said.
“And I love you. May the Creator be with us.”
Yuliana and the children were long gone by the time Houdakin Capitol officials reached Maliki's front door.
They had already rendezvoused with her brother who whisked them away to the neighboring town by the time they put Maliki in handcuffs and lead him to a van outside.
Yuliana and her sons had already assumed their new identities by the time they injected Maliki's veins with poison.
And by the time they were settled into the safe house and Yuliana had rocked her sons to sleep---
By the time she looked at the only picture she had of her beloved husband, after committing every detail of his beautiful face to memory, before burning it so that no one could trace her identity.....By the time she knew in her heart that she would never see her husband again, Maliki Midou was found dead.
Chapter 10
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.”
The Holy Bible, KJV, The New Testament
Galatians 5:21-23
We floated up, but could hear remnants of a conversation-
“We had to kill him now. That idiot already paid for every Tom, Dick and Harry to go to Mercia too! Talk about 'there goes the neighborhood'!. If we had let him live and make it to Mercia, they would have turned him into a hero for sure. We don't need someone with that kind of power around. We've got to do this thing right from the beginning Everybody's got to know their place.”
Slowly, our spheres began to float upwards, the air hazy around us until reality began to fade back in.
Maliki Midou had been killed. Maliki Midou had been killed. We looked to Mother Joy and Sister San-Iyah. Their faces were solemn. Everyone had been told that he had committed suicide.
“Now, my children, you know the truth. This truth has remained hidden until now. Had it been revealed before, not only would there have been riots, but the tribes would have been destroyed from the backlash. There would have been no one to defend us. But now we, along with you five, will be able to stand up for our people. Just the same as Moses was called, we are being called.”
“Tonight, you will sleep, and the Creator will send you a Dream if your ears, minds and heart are open to receive it. You will return tomorrow morning and tell Mother Joy and Sister San-Iyah what you saw in your dream. If it aligns with what they were inspired with, you will officially be accepted to take your seat as one of the Gifted 5. If not, it will be a sign that you are not ready.”
We all looked ner
vously at each other. If we weren't ready, this could be the end of the road. After all we had been through together, nobody wanted to be left behind.
Hantaywee spoke, “What can we do to prepare?”
“Just pray my dears. Just pray to the Creator that He give you right guidance. Remember, your LORD is not the author of confusion.”
It was almost dusk. Everyone had gone their own way, wanting time to reflect, pray, and meditate--none of us not quite ready to sleep. We all wanted to prepare as much as we could.
All I wanted to do was walk and clear my head. I needed to get my mind in a state of peace. Being in nature and giving thanks was one way that I often did this.
I made my way past several, homes, shops, the Training Pavillion, and then finally came to the Community Garden. I entered with wonderment. The space was enclosed with a wall made of woven branches. Against the wall stood an outer row of dogwood and Magnolia trees, their warmth keeping the enclosed area comfortable.
The atmosphere was serene, light and fragrant. When you looked up you could see the beautiful soft blue sky. It was magnificent and breathtaking.
A nice sized pond was nestled in the middle of the garden, and was edged with weeping willow trees, benches and various flowering bushes.
Butterflies flitted about and birds whistled and chatted lightly with each other while gathering food, visiting relatives and going about their daily tasks. I could have stayed there all day.
I passed under the natural trellis the tree branches and vines made, my mouth agape. It was simply spectacular. I was so lost in thought that I jumped when I heard a voice behind me.
“Beautiful, isn't it?”
“Gorgeous!” I agreed without hesitation.
“Peace be upon you my Dear Sister. My name is Isa-Hahlia. Welcome to the RoAam Garden. Feel free to walk around the enjoy the beauty. There are vegetable and fruit patches all around. You can do some gardening if you like, or you can relax or meditate. Either way, I hope you enjoy yourself.”
“Thank you so much Sister. Peace to you!”
The Azurean Trilogy (All Three Books: 1, 2 & 3): Essentia, Burgeor & Manifest Page 15
