One Life Well and Truly Promised

by Richard D. Parker

  “Hush now,” Akintunde pleaded. He had to get her to the hut. Everything would be all right if they reached the hut.

  “A life Tunde,” she continued on belligerently, her voice growing stronger somehow. “Promise me a life…a complete life, full of children and love.”

  “Akhila!” Akintunde gasped, his eyes darting about fearfully, searching for the gods he knew must be listening. ‘She shouldn’t be talking like this again…certainly not now.’

  “Promise me,” Akhila insisted. “A full, happy life together,” she added pulling to a stop and forcing her weary body to stand upright. She stared into Akintunde’s eyes and he could see what the effort was costing her, but her gaze was unwavering and unafraid.

  “Please Tunde,” she begged and he melted, loving her, loving her bravery despite the situation. He bowed his head, slightly ashamed at his own overpowering fear.

  “I promise,” he replied softly, then raised his head, his fear suddenly replaced by white hot anger. “Akhila I promise you a life…a full life…a hundred lives,” he shouted loudly, daring and damning the gods at the same time.

  Akhila smiled and her face glowed with happiness, her beauty overshadowing her injury and pain. “Tunde…I promise you a full life…a hundred lives,” she repeated softly and then sagged against him. “Now take that knife out of me,” she demanded, and as her grip on consciousness fluttered she sagged heavily against him.

  He struggled to hold her up for a moment then realized the futility of the situation and lowered her as gently as possible to the ground. She was on her stomach, the back of her tunic soaked red with her blood. The offending knife stuck high out of her back, as if proud of its accomplishment.

  Tears flooded Akintunde’s eyes, blurring his vision for several long minutes as he fought to control his sadness.

  “Take it out,” Akhila mumbled and with one quick angry motion Akintunde grabbed the hilt and jerked it from his love.

  Akhila groaned as Akintunde threw the weapon away, but even so she managed a smile. She started to say something then coughed and spat up a well of blood.

  “Take me home,” she finally managed and Akintunde nodded.

  He struggled to lift her several times before he realized he didn’t have the strength to carry her in his arms, so he pulled her to a kneeling position and threw her over one shoulder and staggered to his feet.

  He moved as quickly as he dared, tears blurring his surroundings as the Onion Hut finally came into view.

  “Almost there, Akhila. Almost there,” he whispered like a prayer, lurching into camp.

  Akintunde tried to ease her to the ground, but she fell off his shoulder and hit the ground hard. Akhila groaned, her eyes fluttering.

  “Promise you will find me,” she croaked weakly, but it was loud enough that he heard.

  “I promise,” he replied as he moved over and pulled the flap to the hut open. “I will find you. I promise,” he repeated and knelt by her side.

  Akhila smiled up at him, her lips and teeth tinted with blood. He forced a smile onto his face and tried to lift her again but he was exhausted and in the end had to hoist her by her armpits and drag her into the safety of the hut.

  “We made it,” Akhila rasped and then broke into a coughing fit. Akintunde’s false smile turned into a grimace as he moved about the hut, raising flaps and letting in more light. His back was to Akhila when her coughing suddenly stopped. He heard her take two rasping breaths and then silence.

  Akintunde froze in the act of securing a tie, silently straining to hear another breath from his friend, from his love. It never came. Slowly Akintunde turned, more afraid now than he’d ever been in his life. One look and he knew; Akhila was dead. Even so he scrambled to her side and cradled her head. Her beautiful but lifeless eyes stared up at him and he started to cry. Numb with shock he watched absently as his tears fell from his cheeks and mingled with the blood congealing on her chin.

  For several hours he sat with her, stroking her hair and occasionally bending to kiss her forehead before slowly coming out of his stupor of sorrow. He knew that he couldn’t stay in the hut with her forever, no matter his desire. He gently lifted her head and eased his legs out from beneath her, and in a fog began to gather firewood and stack it inside the Onion Hut with his lost love.

  He moved tirelessly, without thinking, without caring, utterly numb to the world around him. He did not stop until every piece of dead wood in the camp was inside the hut.

  He hesitated for a long while, becoming aware of his surroundings for the first time since returning to the hut. It was late in the afternoon or early in the evening; he couldn’t decide which and didn’t much care. The sun was hanging just above the mountain tops in the western sky as Akintunde stirred what was left of the main fire. Slowly he built up a small fire outside in the pit without truly being aware of what he was doing. He rummaged the area for a few more dead branches and added them to the fire, building it up thoughtlessly. He desperately tried to think of something to say to the gods that would make them look after his friend, but nothing came to mind. He wasn’t surprised; he was done with gods…at least in this life. He didn’t wait for inspiration to strike; instead he took one flaming branch and carefully added it to the pile of wood stacked in the hut.

  The fire grew slowly at first but then suddenly caught and the hut was quickly engulfed in flames.

  “I will find you Akhila,” Akintunde whispered, daring the gods to try and stop him. “I promise,” he added as he watched the hut burn. Its loss did not concern him; he knew he couldn’t stay, not without Akhila.

  He stood silently in the waning afternoon, uncaring as the flames soared and licked at the low hanging branches of the nearby trees. Thick black smoke billowed up unnoticed, effortlessly flowing through the thick canopy to the blue sky above. Within ten minutes the hut collapsed in on itself and the stacks of packed lumber burned a hot blue and red.

  Twenty minutes later the first of the Sumerian warriors found their way into the protected glade. There were thirty of them in all. They moved with confidence, drawn by the smoke rising thick and dark from the large fire.

  They spotted Akintunde just before they reached the edge of the pine forest, and the lead men shouted with excitement. Akintunde turned at the commotion and spotted the group of warriors moving quickly his way. Instead of reaching for his sling however, he simply turned and began walking calmly toward the ravine. The warriors closest to Akintunde broke into a run, streaking in his direction, lusting to avenge their prince, Akhila’s attacker that Akintunde had killed earlier with his sling.

  Despite the closing threat, Akintunde remained unreasonably calm, utterly without concern. The Sumerians ran closer and closer, racing past the burning hut in pursuit of their prey, but Akintunde continued to move almost leisurely. The first lance fell short and the second deflected off the trunk of a tree and went wide, but still Akintunde refused to hurry.

  The closest Valley warrior was only fifty paces behind him when Akintunde reached the edge of the chasm. He glanced back at the men with deadpan eyes. The closest of the warriors thought the young man might turn and fight, for they saw no fear in his eyes. Several let out the shrill cries of war, but Akintunde did not slow his pace and instead of attacking he stepped off the edge of the cliff. He moved so calmly off solid ground that several of the pursuing Sumerians believed he might actually walk on the air. But of course he disappeared immediately, much to their surprise, and a few of the closest suspected some sort of trick.

  The ravine was very deep, and as Akintunde plummeted quickly down he was surprised by the strength of the wind on his face. For the first time in his life he had no fear of heights. Instead, he felt strange and wonderful. A feeling of power rushed through his young body as the ground raced toward him. Still he felt no fear, and had the good fortune to form one final thought just before his body smashed into the rocks below.

  ‘Akhila!’

  Encounter Two

  Chapter
Five

  Ke’alohi and Leilani

  873 B.C.

  Women lined the white beach of the lagoon, ostensibly to bid Prince Io’lana good fortune on his journey to claim his bride from the island of Ka’kao, but deep inside most had come to celebrate Ke’alohi’s first ocean voyage. It was a milestone many had been waiting for, some secretly, and some not so secretly. For when the handsome young man returned from the sea, he would finally be a man, and thus able to marry. Ke’alohi was a popular fantasy for many of the tribe’s young women…and a few of the older, married women as well. Nearly every eligible woman on the island vied for his attention, and no one wanted to be absent for the launch. Each girl hoped in her heart that it would be her face gently coming aglow in Ke’alohi’s mind, tenderly lighting his lonely voyage across the moonlit waters. After all, it was a long journey to Ka’kao and back, and the young man had to dream of someone.

  Truth be told, Ke’alohi’s popularity was nearly as universal among the men of the tribe. His mana was strong; all the men could sense it. At seventeen, he was already half a head taller than any other, with shoulders nearly as broad as their island. Furthermore, even at his young age, Ke’alohi’s strength was widely celebrated, only Fat Pe’kelo was stronger. It didn’t hurt that Ke’alohi was also the fastest swimmer, the highest jumper and a prodigious eater, again second only to Pe’kelo, who was an island legend. Ke’alohi’s reputation was bolstered by the fact that he was quick to smile and had an infectious laugh. He was also free with compliments and treated everyone, old and young, as if they were his very special friend. It also didn’t hurt that he had the face of a god, with high cheekbones, large dark eyes that twinkled in the sunlight and black hair that flowed like a silken river down his muscled back. Ke’alohi liked everyone, and everyone liked Ke’alohi.

  “Come Ke’alohi push,” said Ka’pena, the captain of the twin hulled catamaran, or wa’a wa’a. He lightheartedly slapped the younger man on the back. “Flex those muscles and give all the ladies a show.”

  “He should flex his ule, if he’s giving the ladies a show,” Me’lei remarked and all the men laughed.

  “Careful now, my esteemed grandmother is in the crowd,” Li’liha quipped.

  “Not to fear,” Me’lei shot back, “if you can believe Ke’alohi, it’s large enough that even she can see it with her bad eyes. Come on Ke’alohi; give an old woman something to light her lonely nights.” Again everyone laughed.

  “Yes, give it a waggle,” Me’lei encouraged and soon all the men were hooting and cheering him on. Even some of the women joined, though they were not privy to the joke.

  Ke’alohi laughed along, but his lap-lap remained steadfastly in place.

  “Push,” he commanded the older men, and smiling widely he began to shove the large catamaran with all his strength. Incredibly, despite the vessel’s great size, the end of the wa’a Ke’alohi was pushing began to slide sideways in the sand. Ka’pena’s eyes widened, for he knew the large boat was exceedingly heavy, but Li’liha and the others just laughed in admiration. At Ka’pena’s insistence however, they soon began to help Ke’alohi launch the boat.

  “Ke’alohi is in a hurry to leave,” Me’lei remarked once the bulk of the twin hulled craft was in the water and the pushing became easier, “his ule must be much smaller than he brags.”

  Again the men laughed as they guided the boat farther out into the lagoon. Once it was serenely floating on the water the twelve men deftly climbed aboard, six to a wa’a, or canoe. Without a spoken command the men began to paddle and the boat skimmed across the smooth water. The crowd on the shore cheered and waved and all the departing men, including the prince, returned the gesture. It wasn’t until they were leaving the safety of the lagoon that Li’liha scrambled from his lead position up onto the decking that separated the two canoes and raised the twin Pe’a, or sails, which were made of thick pandanus matting. In the distance they heard a faint cheer rise from the lingering crowd.

  Li’liha smiled and with uncommon grace leapt from the deck and up onto the small shelter that would protect the Princess Ma’hine on the return voyage. He shouted enthusiastically toward the beach and gave those left behind a two handed wave before slowly climbing down and slipping back into the front of the wa’a. The cheers slowly faded as the boat picked up speed, the sails billowing in the strong, westerly breeze.

  With practiced ease the men broke into a rhythm with their paddles. Even Ke’alohi fell mindlessly into the tempo Ka’pena set with his measured and timeless sea chant. Ke’alohi, though he’d never before been on an ocean voyage beyond the sight of land, had been paddling and sailing the shallow waters around the island since he was old enough to walk and swim. Of course such close-in adventures happened in a much smaller craft, certainly not in a large ocean-worthy wa’a wa’a. But like the rest of the crew, Ke’alohi was a strong paddler and could keep up the rhythm for hours on end. If the wind was right, the sails would provide the bulk of the power; however, tacking with the wind was not yet a skill the People had mastered, so the paddles were vital during any long sea crossing.

  They paddled on steadily until they finally cleared the outer reef, which protected the island from the open ocean, and then Mo’nana broke into his favorite sailing song. His voice was a smooth deep baritone, and beautifully pitched, but that did not keep all those with lesser talent from quickly joining in. The song was well known and told of how the god Rangi threw rocks from the heavens and created the Mau’ka, or islands, that dotted the vast and endless ocean.

  Singing and sailing was a way of life for the people and everyone sang lustily, happy to be back on open water. They sang and paddled for nearly two hours before Ka’pena suddenly called for silence. He stood and climbed up onto the deck, his weight shifting effortlessly from one leg to the other as the gentle ocean waves rocked the boat.

  “We have made it to the edge of the world,” he said loudly and motioned for Ke’alohi to join him. The young man smiled and eagerly jumped to his side.

  Ka’pena suppressed a smile at the young man’s exuberance and gently took him by the shoulders. Standing at his back, the captain of the vessel pointed out to the west, motioning toward the vast ocean.

  “Ke’alohi, small boy of the islands, what do you see?”

  “Papa, the mother earth, gourd of all creation,” Ke’alohi replied, thrilled to be finally reciting the words that would make him a man. The men, still sitting in the canoes, repeated his words in one loud chant.

  Controlling his excitement with difficulty, Ke’alohi found his gaze following the straight line of Ka’pena’s arm as it pointed out into the watery nothingness. He sucked in a breath, impressed by the vast emptiness despite the familiarity of the scene. He’d looked out over the empty ocean since he was a very young boy, but the view from the boat resonated with a power that could not be experienced standing on the safety of land. All around him, the ocean swelled and ebbed, every horizon devoid of land, devoid of safety, with only the frail craft rocking beneath his feet keeping him from the watery depths. Ke’alohi was filled with awe at the size and vastness of the ocean and suddenly felt very humble and small. Ka’pena sensed the emotions coming from the boy and smiled, remembering his own first encounter with the sea, but without uttering a word he slowly turned until they pointed due north.

  “Ke’alohi, small boy of the islands, what do you see?”

  “Papa, the mother earth, gourd of all creation,” Ke’alohi repeated as did the rest of the men on the boat. Ka’pena then guided him to the east and the ritual was repeated and finally they faced due south.

  “Ke’alohi, small boy of the islands, what do you see?”

  “Papa, the mother earth, gourd of all creation,” Ke’alohi repeated softly and the men of the boat cheered. Suddenly, in pairs, they jumped to the deck to congratulate Ke’alohi for he was now a man in the eyes of the tribe.

  Ke’alohi smiled and laughed and hugged his brothers before finally everyone settled down into
their positions once again.

  Mo’nana immediately broke out into another song, singing loudly and with obvious joy, for it was a happy time for them all. It was a favorite of the men and everyone quickly joined in.

  E mihi atu ki Te Matua, ki a Ranginui, ki a Rangiroa,

  Tāwhirirangi, Te Hauwhakaora, Te Hau e pāngia ngā kiri o te tangata.

  E mihi atu ki a Papatūānuku, ki a Papatūārangi

  Te Papa i takatakahia e ngā mātua tūpuna, te papa i waihotia e rātou mā

  Te Papa e maroro ki te itinga, e maroro ki te opunga

  Te Papa-awhi, e awhi ana i a tātou, o tēnā, o tēnā, o tēnā o ngā whakatupuranga e tupu ake nei.

  Te Ūkaipō, Te Ūkaiao o tātou katoa.

  Greetings to the sky father, the great heavens, the expansive heavens,

  The heavenly winds, the life-giving winds, the winds that caress the skin of all people.

  Greetings to the earth mother, extending beyond the visible land and beyond the visible heavens.

  The earth mother trampled by our ancestors, the earth mother left in heritage by the ancient ones

  The earth mother that stretches unto the sunrise, that stretches unto the sunset

  The embracing earth mother, which embraces each of us from all generations sustained by her grace.

  She that sustains us night and day.[1]

  They sang and paddled intermittently for several more hours, sailing to the northwest until suddenly Ka’pena shouted and everything came to a stop. Without a word Ka’pena laid his paddle across the sides of the canoe and dangled his hands in the warm, salty water and closed his eyes, concentrating on the waves and the wind. Everyone waited expectantly, and after a long while Ka’pena opened his eyes and smiled. All the men shouted and hooted loudly as Ka’pena once more took up his paddle, and guided the craft to the west. Ka’pena had found the strong ocean current that would help them on their way to Ka’kao. Even with the current however, the trip would take nearly three full days, but on the return voyage, without the help of the sea, the journey would last twice as long.