Island's End (19 page)
Authors: Padma Venkatraman
Tags: #Young Adult, #Survival Stories, #Asia, #Fiction, #Indigenous Peoples - India, #Apprentices, #Adventure, #Indigenous Peoples, #Social Issues, #Girls & Women, #Juvenile Fiction, #Business; Careers; Occupations, #Shamans, #Historical, #Islands, #People & Places, #Nature & the Natural World, #History, #Action & Adventure, #India, #General, #Andaman and Nicobar Islands (India), #India & South Asia
Sitting cross-legged by the water’s edge, I let my spirit drift out into the ocean.
My spirit animal’s eight arms reach out and I swim into them. She rocks me gently.
Holding on too long to Lah-ame’s body is disrespectful to his spirit. A leader must help her people be strong, not drown in her own grief.
“Uido?” I hear Danna’s voice and feel him giving my shoulder a little shake. “Come.” He slips his arm around me and drags my unwilling body into the jungle. There he forces me to sit on a fallen log, pries my lips apart and dribbles water down my throat.
The cool water soothes me, like rain filling up the hollow of a dried-up stream.
Danna runs his strong fingers across my forehead, my cheeks, my chin. “Lah-ame will never truly leave us.”
I return to the village with him. Seeing me, Mimi gathers the women and children together while Danna goes to tell the men I am ready. Kara and his hunters carry Lah-ame’s body down from the platform. Kara pours the embers from the funeral fires into a torch and hands it to me. The elders remain behind to take the platform down and bury it beneath the tree.
“Where should we take Lah-ame?” Kara asks me.
“The cliff top,” I say.
The women wail as we leave the village, myself at the head of the procession, taking the place of Lah-ame’s family. Kara follows close behind, carrying Lah-ame single-handedly. Danna brings me Lah-ame’s nautilus shell filled with water, then joins the other men who walk in a long line behind Kara.
My spirit animal’s power surges into my arms, helping me to hold the torch aloft all the way toward the cliff. We reach the spot near the tall rock where Lah-ame used to pray. There I stop and plant the torch into the ground. Kara sets Lah-ame’s body in the shadow of the rock and the men gather around in a circle.
I ease Lah-ame’s chauga-ta off his neck and slide it over my head. His bone necklace drops softly into place beside my own, as though Lah-ame’s ancestors know that I belong in their family now.
The men breathe on Lah-ame’s face in a last farewell and return downhill one by one. Only Danna remains behind. The two of us take turns standing guard over Lah-ame’s body the rest of that day and the following night. Together we tend to the torch so it does not go out.
At first light, I kneel and scratch at the ground with my bare hands to dig up enough earth to put the fire out. From my medicine pouch I take out a dried pitcher plant leaf and crush it between my fingers. The scent refreshes me. Holding my bone rattle above my head, I shake it. The rattle’s sound fills my ears, together with the rush of the sea breeze, drowning out the loudest echoes of pain.
I will bury your grief beneath the ocean as you bury Lah-ame’s body.
Danna and I work side by side, carving a deep hole into the earth with sharp rocks. I hear the mournful whistle of doves awaking in the jungle,
gu-roo, gu-roo
. But as the sun climbs higher, the
mita-tas
’ whistles fade and we hear the cheerful
kan-wick, kan-wick
of terns diving for fish in the sea below. I feel that the birds’ spirits are encouraging me to carry my people forward.
gu-roo, gu-roo
. But as the sun climbs higher, the
mita-tas
’ whistles fade and we hear the cheerful
kan-wick, kan-wick
of terns diving for fish in the sea below. I feel that the birds’ spirits are encouraging me to carry my people forward.
At last the hole is deep enough. I place the nautilus shell vessel inside and sit back on my haunches. “We bid you farewell, Lah-ame,” I say.
We lower Lah-ame’s body into the grave and pile earth back on top. The earth feels soft now, its touch comforting to my fingers. Our work done, I press my cheek against the mound of earth for a moment, wanting to get as close as possible to Lah-ame’s remains. Then I stand up and Danna blows the dirt off my fingers. Facing east, I bow my head and scrub off the mourning clay that still sticks to my forehead.
In the bright sky spread out above us, I see an eagle soaring. It circles around us four times, so low that we can hear the beat of its wings. Then it glides away.
Together, we watch the eagle disappear into the sunshine.
“Down?” Danna asks.
Hand in hand, we walk back to join the rest of the tribe.
38
A
s soon as we are within sight of the village, Tawai runs up to us. “Uido, should we prepare for the feast now?” he asks.
s soon as we are within sight of the village, Tawai runs up to us. “Uido, should we prepare for the feast now?” he asks.
I rest my hand on his thick curls as my people gather around me. “Lah-ame rests well,” I say. “Tonight we will dance to celebrate his life.”
Tawai pulls off the mourning palm leaves from the front of our hut and lays them in the center of the clearing. The other children follow his actions, shouting in happy anticipation of the feast ahead. Soon there is a huge pile of dry leaves, waiting for the evening’s bonfire.
Natalang stands alone in front of her family’s hut. I walk over to join her. “Would you like to go gathering together this morning?” I ask.
Her full lips part in a smile. “I was waiting for you, Uido,” she says. I see Mimi nod with approval as we leave the clearing together, baskets in hand, Natalang’s free arm tucked through mine.
“Uido, I have chosen the man I want to marry!” Natalang bursts out.
“Is it Ashu?” I try to sound enthusiastic.
“He gave me this!” She fingers a shell necklace that dangles between her breasts. Strung with bits of polished scallop shell, it glows pink, green and white, a rainbow of soft color. I am surprised that Ashu could make something so delicate.
“It is beautiful, Natalang,” I tell her.
“Ashu is very attentive and loving,” she says, describing my brother in a way I hardly recognize. “And yet he is so manly, too. He drew such intricate patterns on his legs during the scarification ceremony! It took him longer than anyone else. He had to use two tolma crystals to finish his tattoo, but he did not wince once.” Looking at me sideways, she says, “Nor did Danna.”
I say nothing.
“Danna’s love could help you forget your grief over Lah-ame,” Natalang suggests. She speaks for the rest of the day about how many babies she hopes to have after she marries Ashu, what she wants to name their babies, then about the other new couples in the tribe.
It feels good to listen to Natalang’s cheerful voice again. But knowing how angry and jealous Ashu can be, I also worry a little, wishing Natalang had chosen a kinder man.
As daylight fades, we return to the village to help the women cook the evening meal. The men have brought back a great deal of food to honor Lah-ame’s spirit: four monitor lizards, several boars, a large turtle, plenty of fish and crabs.
I enter Lah-ame’s hut and bring out his fire tools. Everyone seems to be watching me as I kneel down to start my first fire. But my nervousness disappears as I concentrate on the image of my spirit as a shining light kindling the wood. The muscles in my arms are so strong now that it feels easy to churn the fire stick in the hollow of the trunk with Lah-ame’s vine rope. Soon I have a fire crackling.
Sitting in a circle around the fire, we each say a few words to thank Lah-ame’s spirit for being among us. Then we eat until our bellies feel heavy. Once everyone has wiped their hands and picked their teeth clean, I carry Lah-ame’s drum out into the clearing and beat out a dance rhythm. A circle of dancers forms, shoulders shaking, hips swaying, feet thumping.
I play until my palms are tired. Noticing the slowness of my hands, one of the elders finally takes over and frees me to dance out my feelings.
Joining the circle, I stamp and kick at my sadness until my feet feel light again, light enough to fly. Facing the fire, I lift my arms and whirl and soar the way an eagle does. I feel like a wind lifts me and blows power into my spirit. I weave in and out of the dancers, touching the bare shoulders of others with my eagle wings, the way Lah-ame touched all of our lives.
After I have danced myself to exhaustion, I leave the circle and sit in front of Lah-ame’s hut. Natalang drops down next to me. Pearls of sweat glisten above her lips.
“I was glad to see you dancing, Uido,” she says. “I know you loved Lah-ame very much, but he would want you to be happy again, as soon as possible.”
“It is hard,” I say. “There is so much I wanted to ask him, so much we will never share now.”
She nods and lays her soft hand on my arm. “So tell me about the strangers. Are they all as fat as Ragavan?”
I sense she is trying to cheer me up, but her words remind me of the hungry beggar child and the frail woman so broken in spirit. I shudder.
“If you will not tell me, I will have to find out myself,” Natalang says.
“I am sorry, Natalang. It is difficult for me to speak of the strangers’ world just now. Some of what I saw there was terrible. Thinking of it brings despair to my spirit.”
“I really will see for myself soon,” Natalang goes on. “I did not tell you yet, did I? Ashu and his friends are carving out a huge log to make the biggest canoe ever. The moment it is ready, we are going to visit the strangers’ island!”
39
W
hat?” I shout so loudly that some of the dancers turn to stare at me.
hat?” I shout so loudly that some of the dancers turn to stare at me.
“I know you and Ashu fought about the strangers,” Natalang says. “But surely now that they saved Tawai, you no longer dislike them.”
“Natalang, listen to me—”
“Uido, I am tired of being on this little island all the time. So is Ashu.”
“But their world has nothing that we need. You think they have a lot of food, but they do not share like we do. They let children of their tribe go hungry. You cannot imagine it.”
She sighs. “I am sorry, Uido. I should have said nothing about the strangers.”
“Natalang, I saw a woman there from another tribe like ours. She was thinner than anyone should ever be. Her spirit was lost in the strangers’ world. Our spirits will die like hers if we try to live the way they do.”
But Natalang is gazing at the dancers and my words do not seem to reach her. “Uido, let us not spoil the evening by fighting. I only wanted to cheer you up. I am truly sorry I upset you. Come, dance some more.” She tugs at my hand.
I stand, but instead of joining the dancers again as she does, I look for Danna and pull him away from the circle.
“You look worried,” he says.
I tell him what I heard from Natalang about Ashu’s boat.
But Danna does not seem shocked at all. He pats my cheek and says, “The sea calls to many, Uido.”
“Not you too?” For a moment I feel abandoned by how calm he acts.
“No, not me. This island is large enough to hold me as long as you stay here.”
I open my mouth to speak again, but Danna’s lips close over mine, forcing me to stop. He pulls my arms around his sturdy waist. We press together and I feel his heartbeat, strong and fast against my own chest.
“Uido,” he whispers, “stop worrying about the tribe for now. First, you need to refresh your spirit with happy thoughts.”
Danna is right. I feel too drained to fight with Ashu tonight. Or even to continue thinking about him and Natalang. My thoughts slow down as my hands wander across Danna’s back, feeling the curve of his hips.
Danna’s lips move to my earlobe. “I found a beautiful spot in the jungle a few days ago . . .”
I run my fingers over his mouth. “Shall we go there now?”
We wander out of the village into the soft blackness of the jungle. In the distance, I hear the
uk-uk, coo-roo
of an owl.
uk-uk, coo-roo
of an owl.
Nestling together beneath the great black trunk of a moro-ta tree, we look at the moonlight dripping through its branches. Fireflies glow around us like fallen stars, and the scent of vanilla flowers drifts in the air.
For a while, nothing exists but the magic of shared silence and beauty of our togetherness.
40
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